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Title: Benjamin Franklin
Representative selections, with introduction, bibliograpy, and notes
Author: Frank Luther Mott
Chester E. Jorgenson
Release Date: March 6, 2011 [EBook #35508]
Language: English
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*
AMERICAN WRITERS SERIES
*
HARRY HAYDEN CLARK
General Editor
*
* AMERICAN WRITERS SERIES *
Volumes of representative selections, prepared by American scholars under
the general editorship of Harry Hayden Clark, University of Wisconsin.
Volumes now ready are starred.
American Transcendentalists, Raymond Adams, University of North
Carolina
*William Cullen Bryant, Tremaine McDowell, University of Minnesota
*James Fenimore Cooper, Robert E. Spiller, Swarthmore College
*Jonathan Edwards, Clarence H. Faust, University of Chicago, and
Thomas H. Johnson, Hackley School
*Ralph Waldo Emerson, Frederic I. Carpenter, Harvard University
*Benjamin Franklin, Frank Luther Mott and Chester E. Jorgenson,
University of Iowa
*Alexander Hamilton and Thomas Jefferson, Frederick C. Prescott,
Cornell University
Bret Harte
*Nathaniel Hawthorne, Austin Warren, Boston University
Oliver Wendell Holmes, Robert Shafer, University of Cincinnati
*Washington Irving, Henry A. Pochmann, Mississippi State College
Henry James, Lyon Richardson, Western Reserve University
Abraham Lincoln
*Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Odell Shepard, Trinity College
James Russell Lowell, Norman Foerster, University of Iowa, and Harry
H. Clark, University of Wisconsin
Herman Melville, Willard Thorp, Princeton University
John Lothrop Motley
Thomas Paine, Harry H. Clark, University of Wisconsin
Francis Parkman, Wilbur L. Schramm, University of Iowa
*Edgar Allan Poe, Margaret Alterton, University of Iowa, and Hardin
Craig, Stanford University
William Hickling Prescott, Claude Jones, Johns Hopkins University
*Southern Poets, Edd Winfield Parks, University of Georgia
Southern Prose, Gregory Paine, University of North Carolina
*Henry David Thoreau, Bartholow Crawford, University of Iowa
*Mark Twain, Fred Lewis Pattee, Rollins College
*Walt Whitman, Floyd Stovall, University of Texas
John Greenleaf Whittier
Pen drawing by Kerr Eby, after an
engraving by Mason Chamberlin
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
ÆT. 56
REPRESENTATIVE SELECTIONS, WITH
INTRODUCTION, BIBLIOGRAPHY, AND NOTES
BY
Frank Luther Mott
Director, School of Journalism
University of Iowa
AND
Chester E. Jorgenson
Instructor in English
University of Iowa
AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY
New York · Cincinnati · Chicago
Boston · Atlanta
Copyright, 1936, by
AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY
All rights reserved
Mott and Jorgenson's Franklin
W.P.I.
Made in U.S.A.
[v]
PREFACE
Benjamin Franklin's reputation in America has been singularly
distorted by the neglect of his works other than his
Autobiography and his most utilitarian aphorisms. If America
has contented herself with appraising him as "the earliest incarnation
of 'David Harum,'" as "the first high-priest of the
religion of efficiency," as "the first Rotarian," it may be that
this aspect of Franklin is all that an America plagued by growing
pains, by peopling and mechanizing three thousand miles
of frontier, has been able to see. That facet of Franklin's mind
and mien which allowed Carlyle to describe him as "the Father
of all Yankees" was appreciated by Sinclair Lewis's George F.
Babbitt: "Once in a while I just naturally sit back and size up
this Solid American Citizen, with a whale of a lot of satisfaction."
But this is not the Franklin of "imperturbable common-sense"
honored by Matthew Arnold as "the very incarnation of
sanity and clear-sense, a man the most considerable ... whom
America has yet produced." Nor is this the Franklin who
emerges from his collected works (and the opinions of his
notable contemporaries) as an economist, political theorist,
educator, journalist, scientific deist, and disinterested scientist.
If he wrote little that is narrowly belles-lettres, he need not be
ashamed of his voluminous correspondence, in an age which
saw the fruition of the epistolary art. The Franklin found in
his collected and uncollected writings is, as the following
Introduction may suggest, not the Franklin who too commonly
is synchronized exclusively with the wisdom and wit of Poor
Richard.
Since the present interpretation of the growth of Franklin's
mind, with stress upon its essential unity in the light of scientific
deism, tempered by his debt to Puritanism, classicism, and neoclassicism,[vi]
may seem somewhat novel, the editors have felt it
desirable to document their interpretation with considerable
fullness. It is hoped that the reader will withhold judgment as
to the validity of this interpretation until the documentary
evidence has been fully considered in its genetic significance,
and that he will feel able to incline to other interpretations only
in proportion as they can be equally supported by other evidence.
The present interpretation is also supported by the
Selections following—the fullest collection hitherto available
in one volume—which offer, the editors believe, the essential
materials for a reasonable acquaintance with the growth of
Franklin's mind, from youth to old age, in its comprehensive
interests—educational, literary, journalistic, economic, political,
scientific, humanitarian, and religious.
With the exception of the selections from the Autobiography,
the works are arranged in approximate chronological order,
hence inviting a necessarily genetic study of Franklin's mind.
The Dissertation on Liberty and Necessity, Pleasure and Pain,
never before printed in an edition of Franklin's works or in a
book of selections, is here printed from the London edition of
1725, retaining his peculiarities of italics, capitalization, and
punctuation. Attention is also drawn to the photographically
reproduced complete text of Poor Richard Improved (1753),
graciously furnished by Mr. William Smith Mason. The Way
to Wealth is from an exact reprint made by Mr. Mason, and
with his permission here reproduced. One of the editors is
grateful for the privilege of consulting Mr. Mason's magnificent
collection of Franklin correspondence (original MSS), especially
the Franklin-Galloway and Franklin-Jonathan Shipley
(Bishop of St. Asaph) unpublished correspondence. With Mr.
Mason's generous permission the editors reproduce fragments
of this correspondence in the Introduction.
The bulk of the selections have been printed from the latest,
standard edition, The Writings of Benjamin Franklin, collected[vii]
and edited with a Life and Introduction by Albert Henry
Smyth (10 vols., 1905-1907). For permission to use this material
the editors are grateful to The Macmillan Company,
publishers. The editors are indebted to Dr. Max Farrand,
Director of the Henry E. Huntington Library, for permission
to reprint part of Franklin's MS version of the Autobiography.
Chester E. Jorgenson is preparing an analysis and interpretation
of Franklin's brand of scientific deism, its sources and
relation to his economic, political, and literary theories and
practice. Fragments of this projected study are included, especially
in Section VII of the following Introduction. For the
past two years Mr. Jorgenson has enjoyed the kindness and
generosity of Mr. William Smith Mason, and has incurred an
indebtedness which cannot be expressed adequately in print.
The work of the editors has been vastly eased by Beata
Prochnow Jorgenson's assistance in typing, proofreading, et
cetera. They are extremely grateful to Professor Harry Hayden
Clark for incisive suggestions and valuable editorial assistance.
F. L. M.
C. E. J.
[viii]
[ix]
CONTENTS
Introduction
Chronological Table, cxlii
Selected Bibliography
Selections
- From the Autobiography, 3
- Dogood Papers, No. I (1722), 96
- Dogood Papers, No. IV (1722), 98
- Dogood Papers, No. V (1722), 102
- Dogood Papers, No. VII (1722), 105
- Dogood Papers, No. XII (1722), 109
- Editorial Preface to the New England Courant (1723), 111
- A Dissertation on Liberty and Necessity, Pleasure and Pain (1725), 114
- Rules for a Club Established for Mutual Improvement (1728), 128
- Articles of Belief and Acts of Religion (1728), 130
- The Busy-Body, No. 1 (1728/9), 137
- The Busy-Body, No. 2 (1728/9), 139
- The Busy-Body, No. 3 (1728/9), 141
- The Busy-Body, No. 4 (1728/9), 145
- Preface to the Pennsylvania Gazette (1729), 150
- A Dialogue between Philocles and Horatio (1730), 152
- A Second Dialogue between Philocles and Horatio (1730), 156
- A Witch Trial at Mount Holly (1730), 161
- An Apology for Printers (1731), 163
- Preface to Poor Richard (1733), 169
- A Meditation on a Quart Mugg (1733), 170
- Preface to Poor Richard (1734), 172[x]
- Preface to Poor Richard (1735), 174
- Hints for Those That Would Be Rich (1736), 176
- To Josiah Franklin (April 13, 1738), 177
- Preface to Poor Richard (1739), 179
- A Proposal for Promoting Useful Knowledge among the British Plantations in America (1743), 180
- Shavers and Trimmers (1743), 183
- To the Publick (1743), 186
- Preface to Logan's Translation of "Cato Major" (1743/4), 187
- To John Franklin, at Boston (March 10, 1745), 188
- Preface to Poor Richard (1746), 189
- The Speech of Polly Baker (1747), 190
- Preface to Poor Richard (1747), 193
- To Peter Collinson (August 14, 1747), 194
- Preface to Poor Richard Improved (1748), 195
- Advice to a Young Tradesman (1748), 196
- To George Whitefield (July 6, 1749), 198
- Proposals Relating to the Education of Youth in Pensilvania (1749), 199
- Idea of the English School (1751), 206
- To Cadwallader Colden Esq., at New York (1751), 213
- Exporting of Felons to the Colonies (1751), 214
- Observations Concerning the Increase of Mankind, Peopling of Countries, Etc. (1751), 216
- To Peter Collinson (October 19, 1752), 223
- Poor Richard Improved (1753)—facsimile reproduction, 225
- To Joseph Huey (June 6, 1753), 261
- Three Letters to Governor Shirley (1754), 263
- To Miss Catherine Ray, at Block Island (March 4, 1755), 270
- To Peter Collinson (August 25, 1755), 272
- To Miss Catherine Ray (September 11, 1755), 274
- To Miss Catherine Ray (October 16, 1755), 277
- To Mrs. Jane Mecom (February 12, 1756), 278
- To Miss E. Hubbard (February 23, 1756), 278
- To Rev. George Whitefield (July 2, 1756), 279
- The Way to Wealth (1758), 280
- To Hugh Roberts (September 16, 1758), 289
- To Mrs. Jane Mecom (September 16, 1758), 291
- To Lord Kames (May 3, 1760), 293
- To Miss Mary Stevenson (June 11, 1760), 295
- To Mrs. Deborah Franklin (June 27, 1760), 298
- To Jared Ingersoll (December 11, 1762), 300
- To Miss Mary Stevenson (March 25, 1763), 301
- To John Fothergill, M.D. (March 14, 1764), 304
- To Sarah Franklin (November 8, 1764), 307
- From A Narrative of the Late Massacres in Lancaster County (1764), 308[xi]
- To the Editor of a Newspaper (May 20, 1765), 315
- To Lord Kames (June 2, 1765), 318
- Letter Concerning the Gratitude of America (January 6, 1766), 321
- To Lord Kames (April 11, 1767), 325
- To Miss Mary Stevenson (September 14, 1767), 330
- On the Labouring Poor (1768), 336
- To Dupont de Nemours (July 28, 1768), 340
- To John Alleyne (August 9, 1768), 341
- To the Printer of the London Chronicle (August 18, 1768), 343
- Positions to be Examined, Concerning National Wealth (1769), 345
- To Miss Mary Stevenson (September 2, 1769), 347
- To Joseph Priestley (September 19, 1772), 348
- To Miss Georgiana Shipley (September 26, 1772), 349
- To Peter Franklin (undated), 351
- On the Price of Corn, and Management of the Poor (undated), 355
- An Edict by the King of Prussia (1773), 358
- Rules by Which a Great Empire May Be Reduced to a Small One (1773), 363
- To William Franklin (October 6, 1773), 371
- Preface to "An Abridgment of the Book of Common Prayer" (1773), 374
- A Parable against Persecution, 379
- A Parable on Brotherly Love, 380
- To William Strahan (July 5, 1775), 381
- To Joseph Priestley (July 7, 1775), 382
- To a Friend in England (October 3, 1775), 383
- To Lord Howe (July 30, 1776), 384
- The Sale of the Hessians (1777), 387
- Model of a Letter of Recommendation (April 2, 1777), 389
- To —— (October 4, 1777), 390
- To David Hartley (October 14, 1777), 390
- A Dialogue between Britain, France, Spain, Holland, Saxony and America, 394
- To Charles de Weissenstein (July 1, 1778), 397
- The Ephemera (1778), 402
- To Richard Bache (June 2, 1779), 404
- Morals of Chess (1779), 406
- To Benjamin Vaughan (November 9, 1779), 410
- The Whistle (1779), 412
- The Lord's Prayer (1779?), 414
- The Levée (1779?), 417
- Proposed New Version of the Bible (1779?), 419
- To Joseph Priestley (February 8, 1780), 420
- To George Washington (March 5, 1780), 421
- To Miss Georgiana Shipley (October 8, 1780), 422[xii]
- To Richard Price (October 9, 1780), 423
- Dialogue between Franklin and the Gout (1780), 424
- The Handsome and Deformed Leg (1780?), 430
- To Miss Georgiana Shipley (undated), 432
- To David Hartley (December 15, 1781), 434
- Supplement to the Boston Independent Chronicle (1782), 434
- To John Thornton (May 8, 1782), 443
- To Joseph Priestley (June 7, 1782), 443
- To Jonathan Shipley (June 10, 1782), 445
- To James Hutton (July 7, 1782), 447
- To Sir Joseph Banks (September 9, 1782), 448
- Information to Those Who Would Remove to America (1782?), 449
- Apologue (1783?), 458
- To Sir Joseph Banks (July 27, 1783), 459
- To Mrs. Sarah Bache (January 26, 1784), 460
- An Economical Project (1784?), 466
- To Samuel Mather (May 12, 1784), 471
- To Benjamin Vaughan (July 26, 1784), 472
- To George Whately (May 23, 1785), 479
- To John Bard and Mrs. Bard (November 14, 1785), 481
- To Jonathan Shipley (February 24, 1786), 481
- To —— (July 3, 1786?), 484
- Speech in the Convention; On the Subject of Salaries (1787), 486
- Motion for Prayers in the Convention (1787), 489
- Speech in the Convention at the Conclusion of Its Deliberations (1787), 491
- To the Editors of the Pennsylvania Gazette (1788), 493
- To Rev. John Lathrop (May 31, 1788), 496
- To the Editor of the Federal Gazette (1788?), 496
- To Charles Carroll (May 25, 1789), 500
- An Account of the Supremest Court of Judicature in Pennsylvania, viz. the Court of the Press (1789), 501
- An Address to the Public (1789), 505
- To David Hartley (December 4, 1789), 506
- To Ezra Stiles (March 9, 1790), 507
- On the Slave-Trade (1790), 510
- Remarks Concerning the Savages of North America, 513
- An Arabian Tale, 519
- A Petition of the Left Hand (date unknown), 520
- Some Good Whig Principles (date unknown), 521
- The Art of Procuring Pleasant Dreams, 523
Notes, 529
[xiii]
INTRODUCTION
I. FRANKLIN'S MILIEU: THE AGE OF ENLIGHTENMENT
Benjamin Franklin's reputation, according to John Adams,
"was more universal than that of Leibnitz or Newton, Frederick
or Voltaire, and his character more beloved and esteemed than
any or all of them."[i-1] The historical critic recognizes increasingly
that Adams was not thinking idly when he doubted
whether Franklin's panegyrical and international reputation
could ever be explained without doing "a complete history of
the philosophy and politics of the eighteenth century." Adams
conceived that an explication of Franklin's mind and activities
integrated with the thought patterns of the epoch which fathered
him "would be one of the most important that ever was written;
much more interesting to this and future ages than the 'Decline
and Fall of the Roman Empire.'" And such a historical and
critical colossus is still among the works hoped for but yet unborn.
Too often, even in the scholarly mind, Franklin has
become a symbol, and it may be confessed, not a winged one,
of the self-made man, of New-World practicality, of the successful
tradesman, of the Sage of Poor Richard with his
penny-saving economy and frugality. In short, the Franklin
legend fails to transcend an allegory of the success of the doer
in an America allegedly materialistic, uncreative, and unimaginative.
It is the purpose of this essay to show that Franklin, the
American Voltaire,—always reasonable if not intuitive, encyclopedic
if not sublimely profound, humane if not saintly,—is
best explained with reference to the Age of Enlightenment, of
which he was the completest colonial representative. Due attention[xiv]
will, however, be paid to other factors. And therefore it is
necessary to begin with a brief survey of the pattern of ideas
of the age to which he was responsive. Not without reason does
one critic name him as "the most complete representative of his
century that any nation can point to."[i-2]
When Voltaire, "the patriarch of the philosophes," in 1726
took refuge in England, he at once discovered minds and an
attitude toward human experience which were to prove the
seminal factors of the Age of Enlightenment. He found that
Englishmen had acclaimed Bacon "the father of experimental
philosophy," and that Newton, "the destroyer of the Cartesian
system," was "as the Hercules of fabulous story, to whom the
ignorant ascribed all the feats of ancient heroes." Voltaire then
paused to praise Locke, who "destroyed innate ideas," Locke,
than whom "no man ever had a more judicious or more methodical
genius, or was a more acute logician." Bacon, Newton,
and Locke brooded over the currents of eighteenth-century
thought and were formative factors of much that is most characteristic
of the Enlightenment.
To Bacon was given the honor of having distinguished between
the fantasies of old wives' tales and the certainty of
empiricism. Moved by the ghost of Bacon, the Royal Society
had for its purpose, according to Hooke, "To improve the
knowledge of naturall things, and all useful Arts, Manufactures,
Mechanick practises, Engynes and Inventions by Experiments."[i-3]
The zeal for experiment was equaled only by its miscellaneousness.
Cheese making, the eclipses of comets, and the intestines[xv]
of gnats were alike the objects of telescopic or microscopic
scrutiny. The full implication of Baconian empiricism came to
fruition in Newton, who in 1672 was elected a Fellow of the
Royal Society. Bacon was not the least of those giants upon
whose shoulders Newton stood. To the experimental tradition
of Kepler, Brahe, Harvey, Copernicus, Galileo, and Bacon,
Newton joined the mathematical genius of Descartes; and as
a result became "as thoroughgoing an empiricist as he was a
consummate mathematician," for whom there was "no a priori
certainty."[i-4] At this time it is enough to note of Newtonianism,
that for the incomparable physicist "science was composed of
laws stating the mathematical behaviour of nature solely—laws
clearly deducible from phenomena and exactly verifiable in
phenomena—everything further is to be swept out of science,
which thus becomes a body of absolutely certain truth about
the doings of the physical world."[i-5] The pattern of ideas known
as Newtonianism may be summarized as embracing a belief in
(1) a universe governed by immutable natural laws, (2) which
laws constitute a sublimely harmonious system, (3) reflecting a
benevolent and all-wise Geometrician; (4) thus man desires to
effect a correspondingly harmonious inner heaven; (5) and feels
assured of the plausibility of an immortal life. Newton was a
believer in scriptural revelation. It is ironical that through his
cosmological system, mathematically demonstrable, he lent reinforcement[xvi]
to deism, the most destructive intellectual solvent
of the authority of the altar.
Deists, as defined by their contemporary, Ephraim Chambers
(in his Cyclopædia ..., London, 1728), are those "whose distinguishing
character it is, not to profess any particular form,
or system of religion; but only to acknowledge the existence of
a God, without rendering him any external worship, or service.
The Deists hold, that, considering the multiplicity of religions,
the numerous pretences to revelation, and the precarious arguments
generally advanced in proof thereof; the best and surest
way is, to return to the simplicity of nature, and the belief of
one God, which is the only truth agreed to by all nations."
They "reject all revelations as an imposition, and believe no
more than what natural light discovers to them...."[i-6] The
"simplicity of nature" signifies "the established order, and
course of natural things; the series of second causes; or the laws
which God has imposed on the motions impressed by him."[i-7]
And attraction, a kind of conatus accedendi, is the crown, according
to the eighteenth century, of the series of secondary causes.
Hence, Newtonian physics became the surest ally of the deist
in his quest for a religion, immutable and universal. The Newtonian
progeny were legion: among them were Boyle, Keill,
Desaguliers, Shaftesbury, Locke, Samuel Clarke, 'sGravesande,
Boerhaave, Diderot, Trenchard and Gordon, Voltaire, Gregory,
Maclaurin, Pemberton, and others. The eighteenth century
echoed Fontenelle's eulogy that Newtonianism was "sublime
geometry." If, as Boyle wrote, mathematical and mechanical
principles were "the alphabet, in which God wrote the world,"
Newtonian science and empiricism were the lexicons which the
deists used to read the cosmic volume in which the universal
laws were inscribed. And the deists and the liberal political
theorists "found the fulcrum for subverting existing institutions[xvii]
and standards only in the laws of nature, discovered, as
they supposed, by mathematicians and astronomers."[i-8]
Complementary to Newtonian science was the sensationalism
of John Locke. Conceiving the mind as tabula rasa, discrediting
innate ideas, Lockian psychology undermined such a theological
dogma as total depravity—man's innate and inveterate
malevolence—and hence was itself a kind of tabula rasa on
which later were written the optimistic opinions of those
who credited man's capacity for altruism. If it remained for
the French philosophes to deify Reason, Locke honored it as the
crowning experience of his sensational psychology.[i-9] Then, too,
as Miss Lois Whitney has ably demonstrated, Lockian psychology
"cleared the ground for either primitivism or a theory of
progress."[i-10] In addition, his social compact theory, augmenting
seventeenth-century liberalism, furnished the political theorists
of the Enlightenment with "the principle of Consent"[i-11] in their[xviii]
antipathy for monarchial obscurantism. Locke has been described
as the "originator of a psychology which provided democratic
government with a scientific basis."[i-12] The full impact of
Locke will be felt when philosophers deduce that if sensations
and reflections are the product of outward stimuli—those of
nature, society, and institutions—then to reform man one
needs only to reform society and institutions, or remove to
some tropical isle. We remember that the French Encyclopedists,
for example, were motivated by their faith in the
"indefinite malleability of human nature by education and
institutions."[i-13]
"With the possible exception of John Locke," C. A. Moore
observes, "Shaftesbury was more generally known in the mid-century
than any other English philosopher."[i-14] Shaftesbury's
a priori "virtuoso theory of benevolence" may be viewed as
complementary to Locke's psychology to the extent that both
have within them the implication that through education and
reform man may become perfectible. Both tend to undermine
social, political, and religious authoritarianism. Shaftesbury's
insistence upon man's innate altruism and compassion, coupled
with the deistic and rationalistic divorce between theology
and morality, resulted in the dogma that the most acceptable
service to God is expressed in kindness to God's other children
and helped to motivate the rise of humanitarianism.
The idea of progress[i-15] was popularized (if not born) in the
eighteenth century. It has been recently shown that not only[xix]
the results of scientific investigations but also Anglican defenses
of revealed religion served to accelerate a belief in progress.
In answer to the atheists and deists who indicted revealed
religion because revelation was given so late in the growth of
the human family and hence was not eternal, universal, and immutable,
the Anglican apologists were forced into the position
of asserting that man enjoyed a progressive ascent, that the religious
education of mankind is like that of the individual. If,
as the deists charged, Christ appeared rather belatedly, the
apologists countered that he was sent only when the race was
prepared to profit by his coming. God's revelations thus were
adjusted to progressive needs and capacities.[i-16]
Carl Becker has suggestively dissected the Enlightenment in
a series of antitheses between its credulity and its skepticism.
If the eighteenth-century philosopher renounced Eden, he discovered
Arcadia in distant isles and America. Rejecting the
authority of the Bible and church, he accepted the authority
of "nature," natural law, and reason. Although scorning metaphysics,
he desired to be considered philosophical. If he denied
miracles, he yet had a fond faith in the perfectibility of the
species.[i-17]
Even as Voltaire had his liberal tendencies stoutly reinforced
by contact with English rationalism and deism,[i-18] so were the
other French philosophes, united in their common hatred of the
Roman Catholic church, also united in their indebtedness to
exponents of English liberalism, dominated by Locke and Newton.
If, as Madame de Lambert wrote in 1715, Bayle more than
others of his age shook "the Yoke of authority and opinion,"
English free thought powerfully reinforced the native French
revolt against authoritarianism. After 1730 English was the[xx]
model for French thought.[i-19] Nearly all of Locke's works had
been translated in France before 1700. Voltaire's affinity for the
English mind has already been touched on. D'Alembert comments,
"When we measure the interval between a Scotus and a
Newton, or rather between the works of Scotus and those of
Newton, we must cry out with Terence, Homo homini quid
præstat."[i-20]
Any doctrine was intensely welcome which would allow
the Frenchman to regain his natural rights curtailed by the
revocation of the Edict of Nantes, by the inequalities of a state
vitiated by privileges, by an economic structure tottering because
of bankruptcy attending unsuccessful wars and the upkeep
of a Versailles with its dazzling ornaments, and by a religious
program dominated by a Jesuit rather than a Gallican
church.[i-21] Economic, political, and religious abuses were inextricably
united; the spirit of revolt did not feel obliged to
discriminate between the authority of the crown and nobles and
the authority of the altar. Graphic is Diderot's vulgar vituperation:
he would draw out the entrails of a priest to strangle a king!
Let us now turn to the American backgrounds. The bibliolatry
of colonial New England is expressed in William
Bradford's resolve to study languages so that he could "see with
his own eyes the ancient oracles of God in all their native
beauty."[i-22] In addition to furnishing the new Canaan with[xxi]
ecclesiastical and political precedent, Scripture provided "not
a partiall, but a perfect rule of Faith, and manners." Any dogma
contravening the "ancient oracle" was a weed sown by Satan
and fit only to be uprooted and thrown in the fire. The colonial
seventeenth century was one which, like John Cotton, regularly
sweetened its mouth "with a piece of Calvin." One need not
be reminded that Calvinism was inveterately and completely
antithetical to the dogma of the Enlightenment.[i-23] Calvinistic
bibliolatry contended with "the sacred book of nature." Its
wrathful though just Deity was unlike the compassionate, virtually
depersonalized Deity heralded in the eighteenth century,
in which the Trinity was dissolved. The redemptive Christ became
the amiable philosopher. Adam's universally contagious
guilt was transferred to social institutions, especially the tyrannical
forms of kings and priests. Calvin's forlorn and depraved
man became a creature naturally compassionate. If once man
worshipped the Deity through seeking to parallel the divine
laws scripturally revealed, in the eighteenth century he honored
his benevolent God, who was above demanding worship,
through kindnesses shown God's other children. The individual
was lost in society, self-perfection gave way to humanitarianism,
God to Man, theology to morality, and faith to reason.
The colonial seventeenth century was politically oligarchical:[xxii]
when Thomas Hooker heckled Winthrop on the lack of suffrage,
Winthrop with no compromise asserted that "the best
part is always the least, and of that best part the wiser part is
always the lesser."[i-24] If the seventeenth-century college was a
cloister for clerical education, the Enlightenment sought to
train the layman for citizenship.
With the turn of the seventeenth century several forces came
into prominence, undermining New England's Puritan heritage.
Among those relevant for our study are: the ubiquitous frontier,
and the rise of Quakerism, deism, Methodism, and science. The
impact of the frontier was neglected until Professor Turner
called attention to its existence; he writes that "the most important
effect of the frontier has been in the promotion of
democracy here and in Europe.... It produces antipathy to
control, and particularly to any direct control.... The frontier
conditions prevalent in the colonies are important factors in
the explanation of the American Revolution...."[i-25] In the
period included in our survey the frontier receded from the coast
to the fall line to the Alleghenies: at each stage it "did indeed
furnish a new field of opportunity, a gate of escape from the
bondage of the past; and freshness, and confidence, and scorn
of older society, impatience of its restraints and its ideas, and
indifference to its lessons, have accompanied the frontier."[i-26]
One recalls the spirited satire on frontier conditions, as the above
aspects give birth to violence and disregard for law, in Hugh
Brackenridge's Modern Chivalry. Under the satire one feels the
justness of the attack, intensified by our knowledge that Brackenridge
grew up "in a democratic Scotch-Irish back-country
settlement." If the frontiersmen during the eighteenth century
did not place their dirty boots on their governors' desks, they
were partially responsible for an inveterate spirit of revolt,[xxiii]
shown so brutally in the "massacres" provoked by the "Paxton
boys" of Pennsylvania. One is not unprepared to discover
resentment against the forms of authority in a territory in
which a strong back is more immediately important than a
knowledge of debates on predestination. Granting the importance
of the frontier in opposing the theocratic Old Way, it
must be considered in terms of other and more complex factors.
Reinforcing Edwards's Great Awakening, George Whitefield,
especially in the Middle Colonies, challenged the growing
complacence of colonial religious thought with his insistence
that man "is by nature half-brute and half-devil." It has been
suggested that Methodism in effect allied itself with the attitudes
of Hobbes and Mandeville in attacking man's nature, and hence
by reaction tended to provoke "a primitivism based on the
doctrine of natural benevolence."[i-27]
The "New English Israel" was harried by the Quakers,[i-28]
who preached the priesthood of all believers and the right of
private judgment. They denied the total depravity of the natural
man and the doctrine of election; they gloried in a loving
Father, and scourged the ecclesiastical pomp and ceremony of
other religions. They were possessed by a blunt enthusiasm
which held the immediate private revelation anterior to scriptural
revelation. Faithful to the inner light, the Quakers seemed to
neglect Scripture. Although the less extreme Quakers, such as
John Woolman, did not blind themselves to the need for personal
introspection and self-conquest, Quakerism as a movement
tended to place the greater emphasis on morality articulate in
terms of fellow-service, and lent momentum to the rise of
humanitarianism expressed in prison reform and anti-slavery
agitation. Also one may wonder to what extent colonial Quakerism
tended to lend sanction to the rising democratic spirit.
In the person of Cotton Mather, until recently considered a[xxiv]
bigoted incarnation of the "Puritan spirit ... become ossified,"
are discovered forces which, when divorced from Puritan theology,
were to become the sharpest wedges splintering the deep-rooted
oak of the Old Way. These forces were the authority
of reason and science. In The Christian Philosopher,[i-29] basing
his attitude on the works of Ray, Derham, Cheyne, and Grew,[i-30]
Mather attempted to shatter the Calvinists' antithesis between
science and theology, asserting "that [Natural] Philosophy is no
Enemy, but a mighty and wondrous Incentive to Religion."[i-31]
He warned that since even Mahomet with the aid of reason
found the Workman in his Work, Christian theologians should
fear "lest a Mahometan be called in for thy Condemnation!"[i-32]
Studying nature's sublime order, one must be blind if his
thoughts are not carried heavenward to "admire that Wisdom
itself!" Although Mather mistrusted Reason, he accepted it as
"the voice of God"—an experience which enabled him to discover
the workmanship of the Deity in nature. Magnetism, the
vegetable kingdom, the stars infer a harmonious order, so wondrous
that only a God could have created it. If Reason is no
complete substitute for Scripture it offers enough evidence to
hiss atheism out of the world: "A Being that must be superior
to Matter, even the Creator and Governor of all Matter, is
everywhere so conspicuous, that there can be nothing more
monstrous than to deny the God that is above."[i-33] Sir Isaac
Newton with his mathematical and experimental proof of the
sublime universal order strung on invariable secondary causes,
Mather confessed, is "our perpetual Dictator."[i-34] Conceiving of
science as a rebuke to the atheist, and a natural ally to scriptural[xxv]
theology, Mather, like a Newton himself, juxtaposed rationalism
and faith in one pyramidal confirmation of the existence,
omnipotence, and benevolence of God. Here were
variations from Calvinism's common path which, when augmented
by English and French liberalism, by the influence of
Quakerism and the frontier, were to give rise to democracy,
rationalism, and scientific deism. The Church of England
through the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries had "pursued
a liberal latitudinarian policy which, as a mode of thought,
tended to promote deism by emphasizing rational religion and
minimizing revelation."[i-35] It was to be expected that in colonies
created by Puritans (or even Quakers), deism would have
a less spectacular and extensive success than it appears to have
had in the mother country. If militant deism remained an
aristocratic cult until the Revolution,[i-36] scientific rationalism
(Newtonianism) long before this, from the time of Mather,
became a common ally of orthodoxy. If a "religion of nature"
may be defined with Tillotson as "obedience to Natural Law,
and the performance of such duties as Natural Light, without
any express and supernatural revelation, doth dictate to man,"
then it was in the colonies, prior to the Revolution, more commonly
a buttress to revealed religion than an equivalent to it.
Lockian sensism and Newtonian science were the chief
sources of that brand of colonial rationalism which at first complemented
orthodoxy, and finally buried it among lost causes.
The Marquis de Chastellux was astounded when he found on a
center table in a Massachusetts inn an "Abridgment of Newton's
Philosophy"; whereupon he "put some questions" to his
host "on physics and geometry," with which he "found him
well acquainted."[i-37] Now, even a superficial reading of the eighteenth
century discloses countless allusions to Newton, his[xxvi]
popularizers, and the implications of his physics and cosmology.
As Mr. Brasch suggests, "From the standpoint of the
history of science," the extent of the vogue of Newtonianism
"is yet very largely unknown history."[i-38]
In Samuel Johnson's retrospective view, the Yale of 1710 at
Saybrook was anything but progressive with its "scholastic
cobwebs of a few little English and Dutch systems."[i-39] The year
of Johnson's graduation (1714), however, Mr. Dummer, Yale's
agent in London, collected seven hundred volumes, including
works of Norris, Barrow, Tillotson, Boyle, Halley, and the
second edition (1713) of the Principia and a copy of the Optics,
presented by Newton himself. After the schism of 1715/6 the
collection was moved to New Haven, at the time of Johnson's
election to a tutorship. It was then, writes Johnson, that the
trustees "introduced the study of Mr. Locke and Sir Isaac
Newton as fast as they could and in order to this the study of
mathematics. The Ptolemaic system was hitherto as much believed
as the Scriptures, but they soon cleared up and established
the Copernican by the help of Whiston's Lectures, Derham,
etc."[i-40] Johnson studied Euclid, algebra, and conic
sections "so as to read Sir Isaac with understanding." He
gloomily reviews the "infidelity and apostasy" resulting from
the study of the ideas of Locke, Tindal, Bolingbroke, Mandeville,
Shaftesbury, and Collins. That Newtonianism and even
deism made progress at Yale is the tenor of Johnson's backward
glance. About 1716 Samuel Clarke's edition of Rohault was introduced
at Yale: Clarke's Rohault[i-41] was an attack upon this[xxvii]
standard summary of Cartesianism. Ezra Stiles was not certain
that Clarke was honest in heaping up notes "not so much to illustrate
Rohault as to make him the Vehicle of conveying the
peculiarities of the sublimer Newtonian Philosophy."[i-42] This
work was used until 1743 when 'sGravesande's Natural Philosophy
was wisely substituted. Rector Thomas Clap used Wollaston's
Religion of Nature Delineated as a favorite text. That
there was no dearth of advanced natural science and philosophy,
even suggestive of deism, is fairly evident.
Measured by the growth of interest in science in the English
universities, Harvard's awareness of new discoveries was not
especially backward in the seventeenth century. Since Copernicanism
at the close of the sixteenth century had few adherents,[i-43]
it is almost startling to learn that probably by 1659 the
Copernican system was openly avowed at Harvard.[i-44] In 1786
Nathaniel Mather wrote from Dublin: "I perceive the Cartesian
philosophy begins to obteyn in New England, and if I conjecture
aright the Copernican system too."[i-45] John Barnard,
who was graduated from Harvard in 1710, has written that no
algebra was then taught, and wistfully suggests that he had been
born too soon, since "now" students "have the great Sir Isaac
Newton and Dr. Halley and some other mathematicians for their
guides."[i-46] Although Thomas Robie and Nathan Prince are
thought to have known Newton's physics through secondary
sources,[i-47] and, as Harvard tutors, indoctrinated their charges
with Newtonianism, it was left to Isaac Greenwood[i-48] to transplant[xxviii]
from London the popular expositions of Newtonian
philosophy. A Harvard graduate in 1721, Greenwood continued
his theological studies in London where he attended
Desaguliers's lectures on experimental philosophy, based essentially
on Newtonianism. From Desaguliers Greenwood learned
how
By Newton's help, 'tis evidently seen
Attraction governs all the World's machine.[i-49]
He learned that Scripture is "to teach us Morality, and our
Articles of Faith" but not to serve as an instructor in natural
philosophy.[i-50] In fine, Greenwood became devoted to science,
and science as it might serve to augment avenues to the religious
experience. In London he had come to know Hollis, who in
1727 suggested to Harvard authorities that Greenwood be
elected Hollis Professor of Mathematics and Natural and Experimental
Philosophy.[i-51] Greenwood accepted, and until 1737
was at Harvard a propagandist of the new science. In 1727 he
advertised in the Boston News-Letter[i-52] that he would give
scientific lectures, revolving primarily around "the Discoveries
of the incomparable Sir Isaac Newton." From 1727 through
1734 he was a prominent popularizer of Newtonianism in
Boston.[i-53]
It remained for Greenwood's pupil John Winthrop to be the
first to teach Newton at Harvard with adequate mechanical and
textual materials. Elected in 1738 to the Hollis professorship
formerly held by Greenwood, Winthrop adopted 'sGravesande's
Natural Philosophy, at which time, Cajori observes, "the teachings[xxix]
of Newton had at last secured a firm footing there."[i-54]
The year after his election he secured a copy of the Principia
(the third edition, 1726, edited by Dr. Henry Pemberton, friend
of Franklin in 1725-1726). According to the astute Ezra Stiles,
Winthrop became a "perfect master of Newton's Principia—which
cannot be said of many Professors of Philosophy in
Europe."[i-55] That he did not allow Newtonianism to draw him
to deism may be seen in Stiles's gratification that Winthrop
"was a Firm friend to Revelation in opposition to Deism."
Stiles "wish[es] the evangelical Doctors of Grace had made a
greater figure in his Ideal System of divinity," thus inferring that
Winthrop was a rationalist in theology, however orthodox.[i-56]
A cursory view of the eighteenth-century pulpit discloses
that if the clergy did not become deistic they were not blind
to a natural religion, and often employed its arguments to augment
scriptural authority. Aware of the writings of Samuel
Clarke, Wollaston, Whiston, Cudworth, Butler, Hutcheson,[i-57]
Voltaire, and Locke, Mayhew revolts against total depravity[i-58]
and the doctrines of election and the Trinity, arraigns himself
against authoritarianism and obscurantism, and though he draws
upon reason for revelation of God's will, he does not seem to
have been latitudinarian in respect to the holy oracles. Although
he often wrote ambiguously concerning the nature of Christ,
he asserted: "That I ever denied, or treated in a bold or ludicrous
manner, the divinity of the Son of God, as revealed in scripture,[xxx]
I absolutely deny."[i-59] He is antagonistic toward the mystical in
Calvinism, convinced that "The love of God is a calm and
rational thing, the result of thought and consideration."[i-60] His
biographer thinks that Mayhew was "the first clergyman in New
England who expressly and openly opposed the scholastic doctrine
of the trinity."[i-61] Coupling "natural and revealed religion,"
he does not threaten but he urges that one "ought not to leave
the clear light of revelation.... It becomes us to adhere to the
holy Scriptures as our only rule of faith and practice, discipline
and worship."[i-62] In Mayhew one finds an impotent compromise
between Calvinism and the demands of reason, fostered by
the Enlightenment. Like Mayhew's, in the main, are the views
of Dr. Charles Chauncy, who reconciled the demands of reason
and revelation, concluding that "the voice of reason is the voice
of God."[i-63] Jason Haven and Jonas Clarke are typical of the
orthodox rationalists who were alive to the implications of
science, and to such rationalists as Tillotson and Locke. Haven
affirms that "by the light of reason and nature, we are led to
believe in, and adore God, not only as the maker, but also as
the governor of all things."[i-64] "Revelation comes in to the assistance
of reason, and shews them to us in a clearer light than
we could see them without its aid." Clarke observes that "the
light of nature teaches, which revelation confirms."[i-65] Rev.
Henry Cumings, illustrating his indebtedness to scientific rationalism,
honors "the gracious Parent of the universe, whose[xxxi]
tender mercies are over all his works ...,"[i-66] a Deity "whose
providence governs the world; whose voice all nature obeys;
to whose controul all second causes and subordinate agents are
subject; and whose sole prerogative it is to dispense blessings
or calamities, as to his wisdom seems best."[i-67] Simeon Howard
discovers the "perfections of the Deity, as displayed in the
Creation" as well as in the "government and redemption of the
world."[i-68] Both Phillips Payson[i-69] and Andrew Eliot[i-70] affirm the
identity of "the voice of reason, and the voice of God."
No clergyman of the eighteenth century was more terribly
conscious of the polarity of colonial thought than was Ezra
Stiles. Abiel Holmes has told the graphic story of Stiles's
struggles with deism after reading Pope, Whiston, Boyle,
Trenchard and Gordon, Butler, Tindal, Collins, Bolingbroke,
and Shaftesbury.[i-71] If he finally, as a result of his trembling and
fearful doubt, reaffirmed zealously his faith in the bibliolatry and
relentless dogma of Calvinism,[i-72] Newtonian rationalism was a
means to his recovery, and throughout his life a complement to
his Calvinism.[i-73] Turning from his well-worn Bible, the chief
source of his faith, he also kindled his "devotion at the stars."
It should be remembered, however, that this tendency among
Puritan clergy to call science to the support of theology had
been inaugurated by Cotton Mather as early as 1693,[i-74] and that
it was the Puritan Mather whom Franklin acknowledged as
having started him on his career and influenced him, by his
Essays to do Good, throughout life.
[xxxii]
Only against this complex and as yet inadequately integrated
background of physical conditions and ideas (the dogmas of
Puritanism, Quakerism, Methodism, rationalism, scientific
deism, economic and political liberalism[i-75]—against a cosmic,
social, and individual attitude, the result of Old-World thought
impinging on colonial thought and environment) can one attempt
to appraise adequately the mind and achievements of
Franklin, whose life was coterminous with the decay of Puritan
theocracy and the rise of rationalism, democracy, and science.
II. FRANKLIN'S THEORIES OF EDUCATION
Franklin's penchant for projects manifests itself nowhere more
fully than in his schemes of education, both self and formal. One
may deduce a pattern of educational principles not undeservedly
called Franklin's theories of education, theories which he successfully
institutionalized, from an examination of his Junto
("the best school of philosophy, morality, and politics that then
existed in the province"[i-76]), his Philadelphia Library Company
(his "first project of a public nature"[i-77]), his[xxxiii]
Proposal for Promoting Useful Knowledge among the British Plantations in
America, calling for a scientific society of ingenious men or
virtuosi, his Proposals Relating to the Education of Youth in
Pensilvania and Idea of the English School, which eventually
fathered the University of Pennsylvania, and from his fragmentary
notes in his correspondence.
Variously apotheosized, patronized, or damned for his practicality,
expediency, and opportunism, dramatized for his allegiance
to materiality, Franklin has commonly been viewed
(and not only through the popular imagination) as one fostering
in the American mind an unimaginative, utilitarian prudence,
motivated by the pedestrian virtues of industry, frugality, and
thrift. Whatever the educational effect of Franklin's life and
writings on American readers, we shall find that his works contain
schemes and theories which transcend the more mundane
habits and utilitarian biases ascribed to him.
Franklin progressively felt "the loss of the learned education"
his father had planned for him, as he realized in his
hunger for knowledge that he must repair the loss through assiduous
reading, accomplished during hours stolen from recreation
and sleep.[i-78] Proudly he confessed that reading was his
"only amusement."[i-79] In 1727 he formed the Junto, or Leather
Apron Club, his first educational project. Franklin was never
more eclectic than when founding the Junto. To prevent Boston
homes from becoming "the porches of hell,"[i-80] Cotton Mather
had created mutual improvement societies through which
neighbors would help one another "with a rapturous assiduity."[i-81]
Mather in his Essays to do Good proposed:[xxxiv]
That a proper number of persons in a neighborhood, whose
hearts God hath touched with a zeal to do good, should form
themselves into a society, to meet when and where they shall
agree, and to consider—"what are the disorders that we may
observe rising among us; and what may be done, either by
ourselves immediately, or by others through our advice, to
suppress those disorders?"[i-82]
Since Franklin's father was a member of one of Mather's "Associated
Families" and since Franklin as a boy read Mather's
Essays with rapt attention,[i-83] and since his Rules for a Club
Established for Mutual Improvement are amazingly congruent
with Mather's rules proposed for his neighborly societies, it is
not improbable that Franklin in part copied the plans of this
older club. One also wonders whether Franklin remembered
Defoe's suggestions in Essays upon Several Projects (1697) for
the formation of "Friendly Societies" in which members covenanted
to aid one another.[i-84] In addition, M. Faÿ has observed
that the "ideal which this society [the Junto] adopted was the
same that Franklin had discovered in the Masonic lodges of
England."[i-85] Then, too, in London during the period of
Desaguliers, Sir Hans Sloane, and Sir Isaac Newton, he would
have heard much of the ideals and utility of the Royal Society.
Many of the questions discussed by the Junto are suggestive
of the calendar of the Royal Society:
Is sound an entity or body?
How may the phenomena of vapors be explained?
What is the reason that the tides rise higher in the Bay of
Fundy, than the Bay of Delaware?
[xxxv]
How may smoky chimneys be best cured?
Why does the flame of a candle tend upwards in a spire?[i-86]
The Junto members, like Renaissance gentlemen, were determined
to convince themselves that nothing valuable to the
several powers of life should be alien to them. They were urged
to communicate to one another anything significant "in history,
morality, poetry, physic, travels, mechanic arts, or other parts
of knowledge."[i-87] Surely a humanistic catholicity of interest!
Schemes for getting on materially, suggestions for improving
the laws and protecting the "just liberties of the people,"[i-88]
efforts to aid the strangers in Philadelphia (an embryonic association
of commerce), curiosity in the latest remedies used for
the sick and wounded: all were to engage the minds of this assiduously
curious club. Above all, the members must be "serviceable
to mankind, to their country, to their friends, or to
themselves."[i-89] The intensity of the Junto's utilitarian purpose
was matched only by its humanitarian bias. Members must swear
that they "love mankind in general, of what profession or religion
soever,"[i-90] and that they believe no man should be persecuted
"for mere speculative opinions, or his external way of
worship." Also they must profess to "love truth for truth's
sake," to search diligently for it and to communicate it to
others. Tolerance, the empirical method, scientific disinterestedness,
and humanitarianism had hardly gained a foothold in
the colonies in 1728. On the other hand, the Junto members
were urged, when throwing a kiss to the world, not to neglect
their individual ethical development.[i-91] Franklin's humanitarian[xxxvi]
neighborliness is associated with a rigorous ethicism. The
members were invited to report "unhappy effects of intemperance,"
of "imprudence, of passion, or of any other vice
or folly," and also "happy effects of temperance, of prudence,
of moderation." Franklin reflects sturdily here, and boundlessly
elsewhere, the Greek and English emphasis on the Middle Way.
If this is prudential, it is an elevated prudence.
The Philadelphia Library Company was born of the Junto
and became "the mother of all the North American subscription
libraries, now so numerous."[i-92] The colonists, "having no publick
amusements to divert their attention from study, became
better acquainted with books, and in a few years were observ'd
by strangers to be better instructed and more intelligent than
people of the same rank generally are in other countries."[i-93] It
is curious that although many articles have been written describing
the Library Company no one seems to include a study
of the climate of ideas represented in its volumes.[i-94] One must
be careful not to credit Franklin with solely presiding over
the ordering of books. At a meeting in 1732 of the company,
Thomas Godfrey, probable inventor of the quadrant and he
who learned Latin to read the Principia, notified the body
that "Mr. Logan had let him know he would willingly give
his advice of the choice of the books ... the Committee esteeming[xxxvii]
Mr. Logan to be a Gentleman of universal learning, and the best
judge of books in these parts, ordered that Mr. Godfrey should
wait on him and request him to favour them with a catalogue
of suitable books."[i-95] The first order included: Puffendorf's
Introduction and Laws of Nature, Hayes upon Fluxions, Keill's
Astronomical Lectures, Sidney on Government, Gordon and
Trenchard's Cato's Letters, the Spectator, Guardian, Tatler,
L'Hospital's Conic Sections, Addison's works, Xenophon's
Memorabilia, Palladio, Evelyn, Abridgement of Philosophical
Transactions, 'sGravesande's Natural Philosophy, Homer's Odyssey
and Iliad, Bayle's Critical Dictionary, and Dryden's Virgil.
As a gift Peter Collinson included Newton's Principia in the
order. The ancient phalanxes were thoroughly routed! Then
there is the MS "List of Books of the Original Philadelphia
Library in Franklin's Handwriting"[i-96] which lends recruits to
the modern battalions. Included in this list are: Fontenelle on
Oracles, Woodward's Natural History of Fossils and Natural
History of the Earth, Keill's Examination of Burnet's Theory of
the Earth, Memoirs of the Royal Academy of Surgery at Paris,
William Petty's Essays, Voltaire's Elements of Sir Isaac Newton's
Philosophy, Halley's Astronomical Tables, Hill's Review of
the Works of the Royal Society, Montesquieu's Spirit of Laws,
Burlamaqui's Principles of Natural Law and Principles of Politic
Law, Bolingbroke's Letters on the Study and Use of History,
and Conyer Middleton's Miscellaneous Works. From the
volumes owned by the Library Company in 1757 it would
have been possible for an alert mind to discover all of the
implications, philosophic and religious, of the rationale of
science. No less could be found here the political speculations
which were later to aid the colonists in unyoking themselves
from England. The Library was an arsenal capable of supplying[xxxviii]
weapons to rationalistic minds intent on besieging the
fortress of Calvinism. Defenders of natural rights could find
ammunition to wound monarchism; here authors could discover
the neoclassic ideals of curiosa felicitas, perspicuity,
order, and lucidity reinforced by the emphasis on clarity and
correctness sponsored by the Royal Society and inherent in
Newtonianism as well as Cartesianism. In short, the volumes
contained the ripest fruition of scientific and rationalistic modernity.
One can only conjecture the extent to which this library
would perplex, astonish, and finally convert men to rationalism
and scientific deism, and release them from bondage to throne
and altar.
In 1743 Franklin wrote and distributed among his correspondents
A Proposal for Promoting Useful Knowledge among
the British Plantations in America. From a letter (Feb. 17,
1735/6) of William Douglass, one-time friend of Franklin's
brother James, to Cadwallader Colden, we learn that some years
before 1736, Colden "proposed the forming a sort of Virtuoso
Society or rather Correspondence."[i-97] I. W. Riley suggests that
Franklin owes Colden thanks for having stimulated him to form
the American Philosophical Society.[i-98] There remains no convincing
evidence, however, to disprove A. H. Smyth's observation
that Franklin's Proposal "appears to contain the first suggestions,
in any public form [editors' italics] for an American
Philosophical Society." P. S. Du Ponceau has noted with compelling
evidence that the philosophical society formed in 1744
was the direct descendant of Franklin's Junto.[i-99] That in part
the Philadelphia Library Company was one of the factors in[xxxix]
the formation of the scientific society may be inferred from
Franklin's request that it be founded in Philadelphia, which,
"having the advantages of a good growing library," can "be the
centre of the Society."[i-100] The most important factor, however,
was obviously the desire to imitate the forms and ideals of the
Royal Society of London. Both societies had as their purpose
the improvement of "the common stock of knowledge"; neither
was to be provincial or national in interests, but was to have in
mind the "benefit of mankind in general." A study of Franklin's
Proposal will suggest the purpose of the Royal Society as
interpreted by Thomas Sprat:
Their purpose is, in short, to make faithful Records, of all
the Works of Nature, or Art, which can come within their
reach: that so the present Age, and posterity, may be able to
put a mark on the Errors, which have been strengthened by
long prescription: to restore the Truths, that have lain neglected:
to push on those, which are already known, to more
various uses: and to make the way more passable, to what
remains unreveal'd.[i-101]
The Royal Society, no less than Franklin's Proposal, stressed
the usefulness of its experimentation. Even as it sought "to overcome
the mysteries of all the Works of Nature"[i-102] through
experimentation and induction, the Baconian empirical method,
so Franklin urged the cultivation of "all philosophical experiments
that let light into the nature of things, tend to increase the
power of man over matter, and multiply the conveniences or
pleasures of life."[i-103] Though Franklin may have stopped short
of theoretical science,[i-104] he was not only interested in making[xl]
devices but also in discovering immutable natural laws on which
he could base his mechanics for making the world more habitable,
less unknown and terrifying. Interpreting natural phenomena
in terms of gravity and the laws of electrical attraction
and repulsion is to detract from the terror in a universe presided
over by a providential Deity, exerting his wrath through portentous
comets, "fire-balls flung by an angry God."
Franklin's program is no more miscellaneous, or seemingly
pedestrian, than the practices of the Royal Society. As a discoverer
of nature's laws and their application to man's use,
Franklin, the Newton of electricity, appealed to fact and experiment
rather than authority and suggested that education in
science may serve, in addition to making the world more comfortable,
to make it more habitable and less terrifying. The
ideals of scientific research and disinterestedness were dramatized
picturesquely by the Tradesman Franklin, who aided the
colonist in becoming unafraid.
Although his Proposals Relating to the Education of Youth
in Pensilvania (1749) furnished the initial suggestion which
created the Philadelphia Academy, later the college, and ultimately
the University of Pennsylvania, it is easy to overestimate
the real significance of Franklin's influence in these
schemes unless we remember that political quarrels separated
him from those who were nurturing the school in the 1750's. In
1759 Franklin wrote from London to his friend, Professor Kinnersley,
concerning the cabal in the Academy against him:
"The Trustees have reap'd the full Advantage of my Head,
Hands, Heart and Purse, in getting through the first Difficulties
of the Design, and when they thought they could do without[xli]
me, they laid me aside."[i-105] After Franklin failed to secure
Samuel Johnson,[i-106] Rev. William Smith was made Provost and
Professor of Natural Philosophy of the Academy in 1754. He
quoted Franklin as saying that the Academy had become "a
narrow, bigoted institution, put into the hands of the Proprietary
party as an engine of government."[i-107]
[xlii]
With Milton, Locke, Fordyce, Walker, Rollin, Turnbull,
and "some others" as his sources, Franklin adapted the works of
these pioneers in education to provincial uses. (One finds it
difficult to discover any original ideas in the Proposals.) Like
Locke and Milton, he urged that education "supply the succeeding
Age with Men qualified to serve the Publick with Honour
to themselves, and to their Country."[i-108] Here he was unlike
President Clap, who in 1754 explained that "the Original End
and design of Colleges was to instruct and train up persons
for the Work of the ministry.... The great design of founding
this school [Yale] was to educate ministers in our own
way."[i-109] As early as 1722, in Dogood Paper No. IV, Franklin
caricatured sardonically the narrow theological curriculum
of Harvard College.[i-110] Existing for the citizenry rather than
the clergy, offering instruction in English as well as Latin and
Greek, in mechanics, physical culture, natural history, gardening,
mathematics, and arithmetic rather than in sectarian theology,
Franklin's Academy was to be more secular and utilitarian
than any other school in the provinces. Indeed, Rev. George
Whitefield lamented the want of "aliquid Christi" in the curriculum,
"to make it as useful as I would desire it might be."
Franklin stressed the need for the acquisition of a clear and
concise literary style. He observed: "Reading should also be[xliii]
taught, and pronouncing, properly, distinctly, emphatically; not
with an even Tone, which under-does, nor a theatrical, which
over-does Nature." Hence he reflected the virtues of neoclassic
perspicuity and correctness. (These plans he more fully expressed
in his Idea of the English School, published in 1751.) As
he grew older he apparently became less tolerant of the teaching
of the ancient languages in colonial schools: in Observations
Relative to the Intentions of the Original Founders of the Academy
of Philadelphia (1789), he charged that the Latin school had
swallowed the English and that he was hence "surrounded by the
Ghosts of my dear departed Friends, beckoning and urging me to
use the only Tongue now left us, in demanding that Justice to
our Grandchildren, that our Children has [sic] been denied."[i-111]
The Latin and Greek languages he considered "in no other light
than as the Chapeau bras of modern Literature."[i-112] Like Emerson's,
his opposition was to linguistic study rather than to the
classical ideas.
Although he emphasized the study of science and mechanics,
it is important to observe that he kept his balance. He warned
Miss Mary Stevenson in 1760: "There is ... 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."[i-113] Not without
reserve did he champion the Moderns; remembering several
provocative scientific observations in Pliny, he wrote to William
Brownrigg (Nov. 7, 1773): "It has been of late too much the
mode to slight the learning of the ancients."[i-114] He would not
agree with the enthusiastic and trenchant disciple of the[xliv]
moderns, M. Fontenelle, that "We are under an obligation to
the ancients for having exhausted almost all the false theories
that could be found."[i-115] Although he would agree that the
empirical method of acquiring knowledge is more reasonable
than authoritarianism reared on syllogistic foundations, and
with Cowley that
Bacon has broke that scar-crow Deity ["Authority"],[i-116]
he was not blithely confident that science and the knowledge
gained from experimentation would create a more rigorously
moral race. He wrote to Priestley in 1782: "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, not the
animate or moral part of them, the more I discover'd of the
former, the more I admir'd them; the more I know of the latter,
the more I am disgusted with them."[i-117] He often suggested,
"As Men grow more enlightened," but seldom did this clause
carry more than an intellectual connotation. Progress in knowledge[i-118]
did not on the whole suggest to Franklin progress in
morals or the general progress of mankind.
Essentially classical in morality, extolling a temperance like
that of Xenophon, Epictetus, Cicero, Socrates, and Aristotle,
Franklin could not cheerily champion the moderns without
serious reservations. Considering only progress in knowledge,
man may be considered as pedetentim progredientes, but,
Franklin thought, man seemed to have found it easier to conquer
lightning than himself. If science and other contemporaneous
knowledge detracted from cosmic terror, it did not solve the
problem of the mystery of evil and sin: like Shakespeare, Franklin
was perplexed by the inexplicability and ruthlessness of
Man's potential and actual malevolence.[i-119] Thus in stressing[xlv]
utility and vocational adaptiveness, Franklin did not forget to
stress the need for development of character, man's internal self,
and here he did not find the ancients dispensable.[i-120] If unlike
Socrates in his studies of physical nature, he was like the Athenian
gadfly in his quest for moral perfection in the teeth of "perpetual
temptation," in his strenuous and sober effort to know
himself. Too little attention has been paid Franklin's Hellenic
sobriety—even as it has had too meagre an influence. Let
Molière challenge, "The ancients are the ancients, we are the
people of today"; Franklin, although confident that he could
learn more of physical nature from Newton than from Aristotle,
was not convinced that the wisdom of Epictetus or the
Golden Verses of Pythagoras were less salutary than the wit
of his own age. A modern in his confidence in the progress of
knowledge, Franklin, approaching the problem of morality,
wisely saw the ancients and moderns as complementary. Aware
of the continuity of the mind and race, he was not willing to
dismiss the ancients as fit to be imitated. Yet he failed to discover
in the welter of egoistic men any continuous moral progress,
although, unlike the determinists, he thought that the individual
could improve himself through self-knowledge and
self-control. Unlike contemporary exponents of the "original
genius" cult who scorned industrious rational study and conformity,
Franklin as an educational theorist was the exponent
of reason and of conscious intellectual industry and thrift; he
would mediate between the study of nature and of man, and, like
Aristotle, he would rely not so much upon individualistic self-expression
as upon a purposeful imitation of those men in the
past who had led useful and happy lives.
[xlvi]
III. FRANKLIN'S LITERARY THEORY AND PRACTICE
[i-121]
Uniting the "wit of Voltaire with the simplicity of Rousseau,"
Franklin achieved a style "only surpassed by the unimprovable
Hobbes of Malmesbury, the paragon of perspicuity." Characterized
by simplicity, order, and a trenchant pointedness, his
prose style was "a principal means" of his "advancement."[i-122]
He was "extreamly ambitious ... to be a tolerable English
writer." In the Autobiography he recalls that he read books in
"polemic divinity," Plutarch's Lives (probably Dryden's translation),
Pilgrims Progress, Defoe's Essays upon Several Projects,
Mather's Essays to do Good, Xenophon's Memorabilia,[i-123]
the Spectator papers, and the writings of Shaftesbury and Collins.
Born in Boston, he knew the Bible,[i-124] characterized by[xlvii]
the apostle of Augustan correctness, Jonathan Swift, as possessing
"that simplicity, which is one of the greatest perfections
in any language." If Franklin did not achieve its "sublime
eloquence," he approximated at intervals its directness and
simplicity. In reading Defoe's Essays he learned that Queen
Anne's England urged that writers be "as concise as possible"
and avoid all "superfluous crowding in of insignificant words,
more than are needful to express the thing intended." (It is possible
that Defoe's efforts "to polish and refine the English
tongue," to avoid "all irregular additions that ignorance and
affectation have introduced," influenced Franklin in favor of
"correctness" and against provincialisms.) Defoe's "explicit,
easy, free, and very plain" rhetoric is Franklin's.
After Franklin's father warned him that his arguments were
not well-ordered and trenchantly expressed, he desperately
sought to acquire a convincing prose style. In 1717 James,
Franklin's elder brother, returned from serving a printer's
apprenticeship in London. James had known and been attracted
to Augustan England, the England of the Tatler, Spectator, and
Guardian. Familiar is Franklin's narrative of how he patterned
his fledgling style on the pages of the Spectator papers, and
learned to satisfy his father—and himself. Like the neoclassicists,
Franklin learned to write by imitation, by respectfully
subordinating himself to those he recognized as masters, and
not, like the romanticists, by expressing his own ego in revolt
against convention and conformity to traditional standards. The
group who supplied copy for James's New England Courant,
we are told, were trying to write like the Spectator. "The very
look of an ordinary first page of the Courant is like that of the
Spectator page."[i-125] In the Dogood Papers (1722) and the Busy-Body[xlviii]
series (1728) Franklin's writings show a literal indebtedness
to the style and even substance of the Spectator.[i-126] If, after
the Busy-Body essays, Franklin's writings bear little resemblance
to the elegance and glow of the Spectator, he did learn
from it a long-remembered lesson in orderliness. From the
Spectator he may have learned to temper wit with morality and
morality with wit; he may have learned the neoclassic objection
to the "unhappy Force of an Imagination, unguided by the
Check of Reason and Judgment";[i-127] he may have acquired
his distrust of foreign phrases when English ones were as good,
or better, insisting on the use of native English undefiled. It is
interesting but perhaps futile to conjecture to what degree
Franklin at this time, on reading Spectator No. 160, "On Geniuses"
(warning against a servile imitation of ancient authors,
a warning which anticipates the cult of original geniuses of later
decades), would have been predisposed against ancient literature
and languages. If the Spectator was partially responsible for his
pleasantries at the expense of Greek in Dogood Paper No. IV, his
attitude toward the ancients is more ostensibly the result of his
later preoccupation with the sciences,[i-128] and of contact with
representatives of the deistic time-spirit whose faith in progress
led them to underrate the past.
When Franklin went to live in London in 1724-1726, and
became familiar with such men of science as Dr. Henry Pemberton
and others, he must have become aware of ideals of prose
style not a little unlike those practised by the preachers of his
Boston. In Boston he had heard (and in the polemical works
in his father's library, read) sermons couched in a style satirized
in Hudibras as a "Babylonish dialect ... of patched and piebald
languages" (ll. 93 ff.). Sensing the disparity between the seventeenth-century[xlix]
prose styles and the empirical, logical, and orderly
method of science, the Royal Society not long after its
inception inaugurated a campaign for a clarity akin to the pattern
urged by Hobbes: "The Light of humane minds is Perspicuous
Words, Reason is the Pace, Encrease of Science the way;
and the benefit of man-kind the end. And on the contrary,
Metaphors, and senseless and ambiguous words, are like ignes
fatui; and reasoning upon them, is wandering among innumerable
absurdities."[i-129] Summarizing the intent of the stylistic
reformations instituted by the Royal Society, Thomas Sprat
urged writers "to reject all the amplifications, digressions, and
swellings of style: to return back to the primitive purity, and
shortness, when men deliver'd so many things, almost in an
equal number of words ... a close, naked, natural way of
speaking; positive expressions; clear senses; a native easiness:
bringing all things as near the Mathematical plainness, as they
can: and preferring the language of Artizans, Countrymen, and
Merchants, before that, of Wits, or Scholars."[i-130] It is asserted
that the program of the Royal Society "called for stylistic reform
as loudly as for reformation in philosophy. Moreover,
this attitude was in the public mind indissolubly associated with
the Society."[i-131] It is only reasonable to infer that Franklin (as
a member of the Royal Society and as founder of the American
Philosophical Society) was alive to the movement toward "undefiled[l]
plainness" which had for half a century been gathering
momentum.[i-132]
Even as Cartesianism[i-133] in France is said to have fostered
logic and lucidity of detail, and that which is universally valid
and recognized by all men, and that art which is aloof to the
non-human world, so in England may Newtonianism (which
overthrew Cartesianism) have conditioned writers to develop
a uniform style, purged of tenuous rhetorical devices. An age
characterized by a worship of reason, which was supposed to
be identical in all men, an age deferring to the general
mind of man, would be hostile to the rhetorical caprices of
those expressing their private, idiosyncratic enthusiasms. If
the neoclassic apotheosis of simplicity and freedom from intricacy
was the result of a "rationalistic anti-intellectualism,"[i-134]
expressed in terms of hostility to belabored proof of ideas
known to the general will, then it would seem that one of the
factors sturdily conditioning this hostility was Newtonian
science. Admitting that reason leads to uniformitarianism, one
may recall that the processes of science are discoverable by
reason, and that such a cosmologist as Newton illustrated
mathematically and empirically a system, grand in its lucidity,
and capable of being apprehended by all through
reason. If the deistic fear of "enthusiasm" in religion—the
individual will prevailing against the consensus gentium—parallels,
according to Professor Lovejoy, the neoclassic fear of
feeling and the unrestrained play of imagination in art, then
Newtonian science, as it reinforced deism, was no negligible
factor in discrediting enthusiasm, and hence indirectly militating
against originality, emotion, and the unchecked imagination.
Is it not conceivable that the Newtonian[i-135] cosmology, popularized[li]
by a vast discipleship, challenged the scientists and men
of letters alike to achieve a corresponding order, clarity, and
simplicity in poetry and prose?
After Franklin's return from London, he reinforced his Addison-like
style with the rhetorical implications of science and
Newtonianism: in his Preface (1729) to the Pennsylvania Gazette
he observed that an editor ought to possess a "great Easiness
and Command of Writing and Relating Things clearly
and intelligibly, and in few Words."[i-136] Good writing, in
Franklin's opinion, "should proceed regularly from things
known to things unknown [surely the method of all inductive
reasoning and science] distinctly and clearly without confusion.
The words used should be the most expressive that the language
affords, provided that they are the most generally understood.
Nothing should be expressed in two words that can be as well
expressed in one; that is, no synonyms should be used, or very
rarely, but the whole should be as short as possible, consistent
with clearness; the words should be so placed as to be agreeable
to the ear in reading; summarily it should be smooth, clear, and
short, for the contrary qualities are displeasing."[i-137] Like the
members of the Royal Society, Franklin would bring the words
of written discourse "as near as possible to the spoken."[i-138] In
1753 he observed: "If my Hypothesis [concerning waterspouts]
is not the Truth itself it is [at] least as naked: For I have not with
some of our learned Moderns, disguis'd my Nonsense in Greek,
cloth'd it in Algebra or adorn'd it with Fluxions. You have it
in puris naturalibus."[i-139] He briefly summarized his rhetorical
ideal, in a letter to Hume: "In writings intended for persuasion[lii]
and for general information, one cannot be too clear; and every
expression in the least obscure is a fault."[i-140]
Unlike Jefferson, "no friend to what is called purism, but a
zealous one" to neology, Franklin had an inveterate antipathy
toward the use of colloquialisms, provincialisms, and extravagant
innovations.[i-141] In another letter to Hume, he hoped that
"we shall always in America make the best English of this
Island [Britain] our standard."[i-142] If he did not hold the typical
eighteenth-century view that "English must be subjected to a
process of classical regularizing,"[i-143] neither did he, with his
friend Joseph Priestley, espouse the idea of correctness, dependent
only on usage. In general, he seems to have had a tendency
toward purism; it is not unlikely that as a youth he was influenced
by Swift's Proposal for Correcting, Improving, and
Ascertaining the English Tongue.[i-144] Striving for correctness, and[liii]
the avoidance of "affected Words or high-flown Phrases"[i-145] he
approximated the curiosa felicitas of the neoclassicists.[i-146]
A solid neoclassicist[i-147] in style. Franklin accepted the canon
of imitation as it was imperfectly understood in the eighteenth
century. To the extent, however, that the models were conceived
of as approximating the consensus gentium, fragments
illustrating universal reason, there may be little disparity between
neoclassic imitation and Aristotle's use of the term in the
sense of imitating a higher ethical reality. His own life, Franklin
thought, (with the exception of a few "errata") was "fit to
be imitated."[i-148] A. H. Smyth notes, perhaps extravagantly,
"Nothing but the 'Autobiography' of Benvenuto Cellini, or the
'Confessions' of Rousseau, can enter into competition with it."[i-149]
This may suggest a clue to the durable nature of Franklin's
life-tale. Cellini, it is true, was tremendously alive to Benvenuto,
even as Michel de Montaigne was interested in his own whims,
but neither Cellini, nor Montaigne, nor Franklin, could have
penned the Confessions, the thesis of which is that if Rousseau
is not better than other men at least he is different. Cellini,
Montaigne, and Franklin, on the other hand, while allowing us
to see their fancies and singular biases, tended to emphasize[liv]
those qualities which they held in common with their age,
nation, and even the continuity of mankind. Montaigne, it will
be remembered, sought to express la connaissance de l'homme en
général. With no aspirations to become an original genius,
Franklin, both in his prose style and his yearning for perfection,
sought the guidance of models, which he conceived as embodying
universal reason. Had he been a writer of epics[i-150] he would
with Pope have acquired "from ancient rules a just esteem"—when
the rules were, in his mind, "according to nature."
Likewise Franklin is representative of the Enlightenment in
his description of the province of the imagination. It is an
axiom that "the belief that the imagination ought to be kept in
check by reason, pervades the critical literature of the first half
of the eighteenth century."[i-151] Franklin observes that poetasters
above all need instruction on how to govern "Fancy [Imagination]
with Judgement."[i-152] He implies that imagination is a
power lending an air of unreality to a creation, often like "the
Effect of some melancholy Humour."[i-153] He feared that the unchecked
fancy would vitiate his ideals of simplicity and correctness,
and a sober and practical argument.
[lv]
Posing as no original genius independent of the wisdom of
the ages,[i-154] confessing that "from a child" he "was fond of
reading" and that as a youth "reading was the only amusement"
he allowed himself, Franklin was not backward in cataloguing
many of the authors who helped to motivate his thought. He
seems to have been acquainted with portions of Plato,
Aesop, Pliny, Xenophon, Herodotus, Epictetus, Vergil,
Horace, Tacitus, Seneca, Sallust, Cicero, Tully, Milton, Jeremy
Taylor, Bacon, Dryden, Tillotson, Rabelais,[i-155] Bunyan, Fénelon,
Chevalier de Ramsay,[i-156] Pythagoras, Waller, Defoe, Addison
and Steele, William Temple, Pope, Swift, Voltaire,
Boyle, Algernon Sidney, Trenchard and Gordon,[i-157] Young,
Mandeville, Locke, Shaftesbury, Collins, Bolingbroke, Richardson,
Whiston, Watts, Thomson, Burke, Cowper, Darwin,
Rowe, Rapin, Herschel, Paley, Lord Kames, Adam Smith,
Hume, Robertson, Lavoisier, Buffon, Dupont de Nemours,
Whitefield, Pemberton, Blackmore, John Ray, Petty, Turgot,
Priestley, Paine, Mirabeau, Quesnay, Raynal, Morellet, and
Condorcet, to suggest only the more prominent.[i-158] Such a
catalogue tends to discredit the all too common idea that the
untutored tradesman was torpid to the information and wisdom
found in books.
If his prose style shows none of the delicate rhythms and
haunting imagery of the prose born of the romantic movement,
it is nevertheless far from pedestrian. If it seems devoid of
imaginative splendor, it is not lacking in force and persuasion.[i-159]
After one has noted Franklin's canon of simplicity[lvi]
and order, his insistence on correctness, his assumed role
as Censor Morum, his acceptance of the doctrine of imitation
and the use of imagination guided by reason, one
returns to the question of the degree to which the ideals
of rhetoric fostered by the men of science may have helped to
motivate Franklin's prose style, and to what degree his acceptance
of deism augmented by Newtonianism may have furnished
him with a rationale which lent sanction to his demand for a
simple style.
Sir Humphrey Davy found in Franklin's scientific papers a
language lucid and decorous, "almost as worthy of admiration
as the doctrine"[i-160] they contain. S. G. Fisher buoyantly maintained
that Franklin's "is the most effective literary style ever
used by an American." After reading Franklin's paper on stoves
he was "inclined to lay down the principle that the test of literary
genius is the ability to be fascinating about stoves."[i-161]
Whether he writes soberly (albeit tempered by Gallic fancy) of
the mutability of life, as in The Ephemera, or of sophisticated
social amenities, as in the letters to Madame Brillon and
Madame Helvétius, or in his memoirs, in which solid fact
follows solid fact, sifted by the years of good fortune,
Franklin's style never loses its compelling charm and vigor.
If he never wrote (or uttered) less than was demanded
by the nature of his subject, neither would he have disgusted
the Clerk of Oxenford who
Nought o word spak he more than was nede.
[lvii]
He was no formal literary critic such as Boileau, Lessing, or Coleridge,
and no acknowledged arbiter of taste, such as Dr. Johnson.
Yet Franklin, in voluminous practice, enjoying tremendous
international vogue, proved that his theories bore the acid test
of effectiveness. Indirectly he challenged his readers to honor
principles of rhetoric which could so trenchantly serve the
demands of his catholic pen, and make him one of the most
widely read of all Americans.
IV. FRANKLIN AS PRINTER AND JOURNALIST
Franklin was a printer chiefly because of two proclivities
which were basic in his personality from childhood to old age—a
bent toward practical mechanics ("handiness") and a fondness
for reading (bookishness). Further, he was a journalist and
publisher chiefly because he was a printer.
A thorough printer is both an artisan and an artist; he has
both the manual dexterity of a good workman and the aesthetic
appreciation of the amateur of beauty. Franklin always took
pride in his ability to handle the printer's tools, from the time
when, at the age of twelve, he became "a useful hand"[i-162] in the
print shop of his brother James, until the very end of his life.
One of the pleasantest anecdotes of the old printer is that which
tells of his visit to the famous Didot printing establishment in
Paris, when he stepped up to a press, and motioning the printer
aside, himself took possession of the machine and printed off
several sheets. Then the American ambassador smiled at the
gaping printers and said, "Do not be astonished, Sirs, it is my
former business."[i-163]
Even in his boyhood, it was a pleasure to Franklin "to see
good workmen handle their tools," and he tells in his autobiography
how much this feeling for tools meant to him throughout
his life.[i-164] His flair for invention, though founded on this same[lviii]
"handiness," was not always directed toward the production of
tools; but in the two fields of "philosophical" experimentation
and the printing trade, his dexterity and cleverness in making
needful instruments and devices were invaluable.
Partly because of the fact that printers' supplies must be imported
from England, and partly because of his natural tool-mindedness,
Franklin manufactured more of his own supplies
than any other American commercial printer before or since.
He cast type, made paper molds, mixed inks, made contributions
to press building, did engraving, forwarded experiments
in stereotyping, and worked at logotypy. Long after he had
retired from the printing business. Franklin continued to influence
developments in that field. It is a common saying
among printers that one never forgets the smell of printer's ink.
Franklin kept touch with his former business through various
partnerships, through correspondence with printer friends,
through the establishment of a private press in his home at
Passy during his ambassadorship to France, and through his
personal supervision of the education of his grandson in "the
art preservative of arts." "I am too old to follow printing again
myself," he wrote to a friend, "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-165]
As to just how adept Franklin was on the distinctively aesthetic
side of printing, critics must differ. It has been customary
to assume that the output of his shop was far superior to that of
the several other printing houses in the colonies.[i-166] Such broad
generalizations are misleading, however; and it is certainly possible[lix]
to find Parks and even Bradford imprints which compare
favorably enough with some of Franklin's. In typography, the
phase of printing which affords the widest aesthetic scope,
Franklin was by no means a genius. William Parks, of Annapolis
and later of Williamsburg, was at least Franklin's peer during
the seventeen-thirties and 'forties in the artistic arrangement of
type; and William Goddard, who practiced the art a little later
in several of the colonies, was his superior. Yet Franklin was
an outstanding printer in a region blessed with few good presses.
The difference between him and most of the other colonial
printers may be stated thus: Franklin maintained a high average
of workmanlike (though not inspired) performance, while his
contemporaries were inclined to be slovenly, inaccurate, and
generally careless.
In the later years of his life Franklin gave no little attention
to fine printing, though as a dilettante rather than as a commercial
printer. In France he was friendly with François Ambroise
Didot, the greatest French printer of his times, and put his
grandson Benjamin Franklin Bache to school in Didot's establishment.
With Pierre Simon Fournier, who ranked next to
Didot among French printers, Franklin corresponded from time
to time. In England the American printer maintained touch
with prominent practitioners of his craft from the time of his
first visit abroad until his death. Samuel Palmer, Franklin's
first London employer, was but a mediocre printer; but John
Watts, to whose house the young American went after a year
at Palmer's, stood much higher in his vocation.[i-167] Both Watts
and Palmer were patrons of William Caslon, from whom
Franklin later bought type. But John Baskerville, Caslon's
rival, was the founder whom Franklin did most to encourage
and to bring to the attention of discriminating printers. The
English printer with whom Franklin was upon the terms of[lx]
greatest intimacy—and that for many years—was William
Strahan, member of Parliament, King's Printer, and a successful
publisher. Strahan was a man of parts, a great letter writer, and
a friend of David Hume and Samuel Johnson. The latter referred
to the Strahan shop as "the greatest printing house in
London."[i-168] Another correspondent was John Walter, logotyper,
press builder, and founder of the London Times.[i-169] In all
his letters to his printer friends, Franklin shows not only a lively
interest in improvements and inventions for the trade, but also
an increasing interest in the artistic side of printing and type-founding.
The "bookish inclination" which Franklin credits in the
Autobiography with being the quality that decided his father to
make a printer of him, appertained to the trade because printers
were commonly publishers and sellers of books and pamphlets,
and often editors and publishers of newspapers. How the young
Franklin satisfied his literary urge in the print shop of his brother
James is a familiar story, and his theories of writing are traced
in another section of this Introduction. The contribution to
literature which he made as a publisher of original books is negligible,
but he did his part both as publisher and bookseller to
spread that bookishness to which he felt that he owed much of
his own success. Like all publishers before and since, he was
forced by his customers to issue books of a lower sort than he
could fully approve in order to float editions of more desirable
works: he tells plaintively of his public's preference for "Robin
Hood's Songs" over the Psalms of his beloved Watts.[i-170] In still[lxi]
another way, Franklin promoted the bookishness of his community:
he founded the first of American circulating libraries,
and he built up for himself one of the largest private libraries
in the country.[i-171]
Journalism was a common by-product of the printing trade.
When Franklin and Meredith took over Keimer's The Universal
Instructor in all Arts and Sciences: and Pennsylvania Gazette in
1729, there were six other newspapers being published in the
colonies—three in Boston and one each in New York, Philadelphia,
and Annapolis. The Williamsburg press had a newspaper
a few years later, but the other two printing towns in the
colonies had to wait some thirty years for journalistic ventures—a
newspaper in New London and a magazine in Woodbridge.[i-172]
The fundamental question to be asked in analyzing a newspaper
may be stated thus: What is the editorial conception of the
primary function of the press? Franklin had received his early
newspaper training on his brother's New England Courant,
which frankly acknowledged entertainment as its primary
function and relegated news to a minor place. Of his contemporaries
in 1729, the oldest, the Boston News-Letter, held the
publication of news to be its sole function; while the Boston Gazette,
the New York Gazette, and the Maryland Gazette took
much the same attitude. In the main, they were rather dreary
reprints of stale European news. Bradford's American Weekly
Mercury, in Philadelphia, gave somewhat more attention to
local news; but with the exception of the Franklin-Breintnal
Busy-Body papers, contributed in 1728-1729 in order to bring
Keimer to his knees, the Mercury gave very little attention to
the entertainment function. Only the New England Weekly
Journal, carrying on something of the tradition of the old Courant,
dealt largely in entertainment as well as in news. This[lxii]
bi-functional policy was the one adopted by Franklin's Pennsylvania
Gazette, which was always readable and amusing at
the same time that it was newsy.
Of the editorial or opinion-forming function of newspapers
there was little evidence in Franklin's paper,[i-173] at least in the
field of politics. The obvious reason was the active governmental
censorship. It remained for John Peter Zenger to introduce
that function into colonial journalism in the New York
Weekly Journal in 1733: his struggle for the freedom of the
press is well known.[i-174] But the Pennsylvania Gazette never became
in any degree a political organ while Franklin edited it;
and his first political pronouncement was published not in his
paper but in a pamphlet, Plain Truth, issued just before his
retirement from editorial duties.
Two common misconceptions in regard to Franklin's newspaper
call for correction: (1) The Pennsylvania Gazette was not
connected as forerunner or ancestor with the Saturday Evening
Post. The Gazette, a newspaper to the end, closed its file in
1815;[i-175] the Post, a story paper, issued its Volume I, Number 1,
in 1821. Throughout much of the latter half of the nineteenth
century, the Post carried the legend "Founded in 1821" on its
front page; and not until after the Curtis Publishing Company
bought it in 1897 did it begin to print the words "Founded A.D.
1728 by Benjamin Franklin" on its cover. The sole connection
of the Post with Franklin lies in the fact that it was first issued[lxiii]
from an office at 53 Market Street which Franklin had once
occupied.[i-176] (2) Franklin did not publish a "chain" of newspapers.
A "chain" implies some kind of co-operative connection
between the various members, but the several papers which
Franklin helped to finance had no such relationship. In some he
was a six-years partner,[i-177] keeping his interest until the resident
publisher, usually a former employee, was established; to some
he made loans or, in the case of relatives, gifts.[i-178]
One of his journalistic ventures which is not mentioned in
the Autobiography is the General Magazine, of 1741. It missed
by three days being the first of American magazines: Andrew
Bradford had learned of Franklin's project and, with his American
Magazine, beat him in the race for priority. But the American
Magazine was a failure in three monthly numbers, while
Franklin's periodical, though more readable, died after its
sixth issue.[i-179] As an initial episode in the history of American
magazines, the General Magazine has a certain eminence; but
Franklin's neglect of it when writing his Autobiography, after
the events of nearly fifty busy years had apparently crowded it
out of his memory, is sufficient commentary on its unimportance.
To the end of his life Franklin was proud of his trade of
printing, with its handmaiden journalism. His last will and
testament begins: "I, Benjamin Franklin, Printer...." Though
clearly not the chief interest of his life, it was one to which he
was fundamentally and consistently attached.
[lxiv]
V. FRANKLIN'S ECONOMIC VIEWS
An eighteenth-century colonial who wrote on paper money,
interest, value, and insurance, who discussed a theory of population
and the economic aspects of the abolition of slavery, who
championed free trade, and who probably lent Adam Smith
some information used in his Wealth of Nations, who was an
empirical agriculturist, who was "half physiocratic before the
rise of the physiocratic school"—such a colonial has, indeed,
claims to being America's pioneer economist.
Franklin's hatred of negro slavery was conditioned by more
than his humanitarian bias. It may be seen that his indictments
of black cargoes were the resultant of an interplay of his convictions
that economically slavery was enervating and dear
and of his abstract sense of religious and ethical justice. One
should not minimize, however, his distrust of slavery on other
than economic bases. He was acutely influenced by the Quakers
of his colony who, like gadflies, were stinging slaveholders to
an awareness of their blood traffic, and by the rise of English
humanitarianism. In his youth he had published (first edition,
1729; second, 1730), with no little danger to himself and his
business, Ralph Sandiford's A Brief Examination of the
Practice of the Times, an Amos-like vituperative attack on
the "unrighteous Gain" of slaveholding. He also published
works of Benjamin Lay and John Woolman.[i-180] Friend of
Anthony Benezet, Benjamin Rush, Fothergill, and Granville
Sharp, and after 1760 a member of Dr. Bray's Associates,
he lent his voice and pen to denouncing slavery on religious
and ethical grounds; and in England, after the James Sommersett[lxv]
trial (1772), he "began to agitate for parliamentary
action" toward the abolishing of slavery in all parts of the British
Empire.[i-181] Following the Sommersett verdict, Franklin contributed
a brief article to the London Chronicle (June 18-20,
1772) in which he denounced the "constant butchery of the
human species by this pestilential detestable traffic in the bodies
and souls of men."[i-182] Losing his temperamental urbanity when
observing "the diabolical Commerce,"[i-183] "the abominable
African Trade," he recollects approvingly that a certain French
moralist[i-184] could "not look on a piece of sugar without conceiving
it stained with spots of human blood!"[i-185] Conditioned by
Quakerism, by his deism, which suggested that "the most
acceptable Service we render him [God] is doing good to his
other Children," and by the eighteenth century's growing repugnance
toward suffering and pain,[i-186] Franklin (although he
took little part in legislating against slavery in Pennsylvania)
became through his writing a model to be imitated, especially
in France, by a people more intent on becoming humane than
saintly.
His letter to Anthony Benezet (London, July 14, 1773), however,
clearly indicates that for economic, as well as humanitarian
reasons, he had sought freedom for slaves:
I am glad to hear that such humane Sentiments prevail so
much more generally than heretofore, that there is Reason to
hope our Colonies may in time get clear of a Practice that[lxvi]
disgraces them, and, without producing any equivalent Benefit,
is dangerous to their very Existence.[i-187]
Franklin's view of the economic disabilities of slavery is best
expressed in Observations Concerning the Increase of Mankind,
Peopling of Countries, Etc. (1751). Arguing against British restraint
of colonial manufactures, he observed that "'tis an ill-grounded
Opinion that by the Labour of slaves, America may
possibly vie in Cheapness of Manufactures with Britain. The
Labour of Slaves can never be so cheap here as the Labour of
working Men is in Britain."[i-188] With arithmetic based on empirical
scrutiny of existing conditions, resembling the mode of economists
following Adam Smith, he charged that slaves are economically
unprofitable due to the rate of interest in the colonies,
their initial price, their insurance and maintenance, their negligence
and malevolence.[i-189] In addition, "Slaves ... pejorate the
Families that use them; the white Children become proud, disgusted
with Labour, and being educated in Idleness, are rendered
unfit to get a Living by Industry."[i-190] Slaves are hardly
economical investments in terms of colonial character. Looking
to the "English Sugar Islands" where Negroes "have greatly
diminish'd the Whites," and deprived the poor of employment,
"while a few Families acquire vast Estates," he realized that
"population was limited by means of subsistence,"[i-191] which
foreshadowed the more pessimistic progressions of Malthus.
Having just maintained that "our People must at least be
doubled every 20 Years,"[i-192] and intuitively suspecting that
the means for subsistence progress more slowly, he exclaimed,
"Why increase the Sons of Africa, by planting them in America,
where we have so fair an Opportunity, by excluding all Blacks
and Tawneys, of increasing the lovely White and Red?"[i-193] He
saw mere economic extravagance as the short-time effect of[lxvii]
slavery; he feared that the long-time effect would be to create an
aristocracy subsisting at the head of a vast brood of slaves and
poor whites.[i-194]
It was inevitable in a state having no staple crop, such as rice,
sugar, tobacco, or cotton, which offered at least economic justification
for negro slavery, that abolition of slaves should be
urged partially on purely economic grounds, and that Pennsylvania
should have been the first colony to legislate in favor of
abolition, in 1780. Although one may feel that economic determinism
is overly simple and audacious in its doctrinaire interpretations,
one can not refuse to see the extent to which economics
tended to buttress humane and religious factors in
Franklin's mind to make him a persuasive champion of
abolition.[i-195]
A Modest Enquiry into the Nature and Necessity of a Paper
Currency[i-196] has been appraised as "by far the ablest and most
original treatise that had been written on the subject up to 1728[lxviii]
and was probably the most widely read work on paper currency
that appeared in colonial America."[i-197] That Franklin's interest
in paper money was not unique, one may gather from the fact
that between 1714 and 1721 "nearly thirty pamphlets appeared"
on this subject in Massachusetts alone.[i-198] One of the 1728
theses at Harvard, answered in the affirmative, was: "Does the
issue of paper money contribute to the public good?"[i-199] "Since
there was a scarcity of circulating medium, caused by the
constant drain of specie for export," explains Mr. D. R.
Dewey, "it is not strange that projects for converting credit
into wealth should have sprung up in the colonies."[i-200]
Franklin argued in his Modest Enquiry[i-201] that (1) "A plentiful
Currency will occasion Interest to be low," (2) it "will
occasion the Trading Produce to bear a good Price," (3)
it "will encourage great Numbers of labouring and Handicrafts
Men to come and settle in the Country," and (4) it "will
occasion a less consumption of European Goods, in proportion
to the Number of the People." Thus he saw paper money as
a "Morrison's Pill," promising to cure all economic ills.[i-202] It
has been suggested that as a printer Franklin naturally would
favor issues of paper money. In view of his later apostasy one
should note that in this essay Franklin apparently accepted the
current mercantilist notions, best expressed here in his conviction
that paper money will secure a favorable balance of trade.[lxix]
Demands for emissions of paper money were inevitable in a
colony in the grip of such a restrictive commercial policy as
British mercantilism. It must be observed, however, that Franklin
differed from the proper mercantilists to the extent that
simple valuable metals were not to be measures of value. Deriving
his idea from Sir William Petty, Franklin took labor as the
true measure of value,[i-203]—a position later held by Karl Marx. In
his preoccupation with the growth of manufactures and favorable
balances of trade, Franklin gave no suggestions that at
least by 1767 he was to become an exponent of agrarianism and
free trade. One wonders to what extent his warnings against
the purchase of "unnecessary Householdstuff, or any superfluous
thing," his inveterate emphasis on industry and frugality,
were conditioned by his view that such indulgence would essentially
cause a preponderance of imports, hence casting against
them an unfavorable trade balance.[i-204]
In 1751 Parliament passed an act regulating in the New England
colonies the issue of paper money and preventing them
"from adding a legal tender clause thereto"; in 1764 Parliament
forbade issue of legal tender money in any of the colonies. As a
member of the Pennsylvania assembly, Franklin had successfully
sponsored issues of paper money; in London, following the
1764 act, he urged that one of the causes breeding disrespect for
Parliament was "the prohibition of making paper money among
[us]."[i-205] Economics blends into politics when we remember that
the 1764 restraining legislation was "one of the factors in the
subsequent separation, for it caused some of the suffering that[lxx]
inevitably follows in the wake of an unsound monetary policy
whose onward course is suddenly checked."[i-206] In 1766 Franklin
was yet an ardent imperialist, who sought politically and
economically to keep whole "that fine and noble China Vase,
the British Empire." His Remarks and Facts Concerning
American Paper Money (1767), in answer to Lord Hillsborough's
Board of Trade report circulated among British merchants,
is an ardent plea for legal tender paper money. He
argued that British merchants (since yearly trade balances had
regularly been in their favor) had not been deprived of gold and
silver, that paper money had worked in the Colonies,[i-207] and that
British merchants had lost no more in their colonial dealings
than was inevitable in war times. Franklin concluded that since
there were no mines in the colonies, paper money was a necessity
(arguing here very shrewdly that even English silver "is obliged
to the legal Tender for Part of its Value"). Hence, at least for
colonies deserving it, the mother country should take off the restraint
on legal tender. What Franklin seems not to have known
and what the merchants had actually felt (they had their accounts
staring at them) was that in the past, especially after 1750, much
of the legal tender was in effect nothing but inconvertible fiat
money. Mr. Carey quotes from an uncollected item, Franklin's
"The Legal Tender of Paper Money in America," in which he
threatened that "if the colonies were not allowed to issue legal-tender
notes there was no way in which they could retain hard
money except by boycotting English goods."[i-208] Franklin suggested
(to S. Cooper, April 22, 1779) that depreciation may
not be unmixed evil, since it may be viewed as a tax: "It should[lxxi]
always be remembered, that the original Intention was to sink
the Bills by Taxes, which would as effectually extinguish the
Debt as an actual Redemption."[i-209] Not a little Machiavellian
for one who was not blind to the sanctity of contracts!
With the Revolution and the attendant depreciation in currency,
Franklin tended to warn against over-issues.[i-210] Like
Governor Hutchinson, who said that "the morals of the
people depreciate with the currency," Franklin confessed in
1783 "the many Mischiefs, the injustices, the Corruption of
Manners, &c., &c., that attended a depreciating Currency."[i-211]
There is no evidence to show that Franklin dissented from the
conservative prohibition in the Constitutional Convention of
1787 against issues of legal tender paper.[i-212]
Deborah Logan (in a letter in 1829) stated that Franklin
"once told Dr. Logan that the celebrated Adam Smith, when
writing his 'Wealth of Nations,' was in the habit of bringing
chapter after chapter as he composed it, to himself, Dr. Price
and others of the literati; then patiently hear [sic] their observations,
and profit by their discussion and criticism—even sometimes
submitting to write whole chapters anew, and even to reverse
some of his propositions."[i-213] James Parton observed that
the allusions to the colonies which "constitute the experimental
evidence of the essential truth of the book" were supplied by
Franklin.[i-214] But Rae reasonably counters: "It ought of course
to be borne in mind that Smith had been in the constant habit of
hearing much about the American Colonies and their affairs[lxxii]
during his thirteen years in Glasgow from the intelligent merchants
and returned planters of that city."[i-215]
In general, we may conclude that Franklin and Smith were
exponents of free trade in proportion as they were reactionaries
against British mercantilism. Each in his reaction tended to
elevate the function of agriculture beyond reasonable limits.
Unlike the physiocrats and Franklin, however, Adam Smith did
not hold that, in terms of wealth-producing, manufacturers
were sterile. Even if Franklin saw only agriculture as productive,
he was not blind to the utility of manufactures, especially after
the break with the mother country, when he realized that home
industry must be developed to supply the colonial needs
formerly satisfied by British exports.[i-216]
Finally, each was, in varying degrees, an exponent of laissez[lxxiii]
faire.[i-217] Since we shall discover that politically Franklin was less
a democrat than is often supposed, we may feel that his belief in
free trade led him to embrace reservedly the principle of laissez
faire, rather than that free trade, an economic concept, was but a
fragment of a larger dogma, namely, that government should be
characterized by its passivity, frugality, and maximum negligence.
V. L. Parrington quotes[i-218] from George Whately's
Principles of Trade, which contained views congenial to Franklin:
When Colbert assembled some wise old merchants of France,
and desired their advice and opinion, how he could best serve
and promote commerce, their answer, after consultation, was,
in three words only, Laissez-nous faire: "Let us alone." It is
said by a very solid writer of the same nation, that he is well
advanced in the science of politics, who knows the full force of
that maxim. Pas trop gouverner: "Not to govern too much!"
which, perhaps, would be of more use when applied to trade, than
in any other public concern. (Present editors' italics.)
Laissez faire in Franklin's as in Whately's view tended to be
synonymous with free trade. Laissez faire was suggested by
his insistence on free trade, as he progressively expressed his
antipathy for mercantilism, rather than that free trade was simply[lxxiv]
a natural deduction from a more inclusive economic-political
dogma.
Writing to the pro-colonial Jonathan Shipley, Bishop of St.
Asaph, whose "sweet Retirement" at Twyford he had long
enjoyed, Franklin, seeing no hopes of a reconciliation between
the colonies and Great Britain, uttered what marked him as
the first American disciple of Quesnay's school of economic
thought: "Agriculture is the great Source of Wealth and Plenty.
By cutting off our Trade you have thrown us to the Earth,
whence like Antaeus we shall rise yearly with fresh Strength
and Vigour."[i-219] Upon learning of the colonists' "Resolutions
of Non-Importation" he wrote to "Cousin" Folger
that they must promote their own industries, especially those
of the "Earth and their Sea, the true Sources of Wealth and
Plenty."[i-220] Learning that the colonists had threatened to boycott
English manufacturers by creating their own basic industries,
Franklin demurred in a letter to Cadwallader Evans: "Agriculture
is truly productive of new wealth; manufacturers only
change forms, and whatever value they give to the materials
they work upon, they in the mean time consume an equal value
in provisions, &c. So that riches are not increased by manufacturing;
the only advantage is, that provisions in the shape of
manufactures are more easily carried for sale to foreign markets."[i-221]
Positions to be Examined, Concerning National
Wealth[i-222] affords a succinct statement of Franklin's agrarianism.
"There seem to be but three ways for a nation to acquire
wealth. The first is by war, as the Romans did, in plundering
their conquered neighbours. This is robbery. The second by
commerce, which is generally cheating. The third by agriculture,[lxxv]
the only honest way, wherein man receives a real increase of the
seed thrown into the ground, in a kind of continual miracle,
wrought by the hand of God in his favour, as a reward for his
innocent life and his virtuous industry."[i-223] Dupont de Nemours,
as early as 1769, had written: "Who does not know that the English
have today their Benjamin Franklin, who has adopted the
principles and the doctrines of our French economists?"[i-224]
Before attempting to appraise the real indebtedness of Franklin to
the physiocrats, it is well to seek to learn how he came in contact
with their ideas, and especially why by the year 1767 he was
acutely susceptible to their doctrine. In the summer of 1767, in
the company of Sir John Pringle, Franklin went to Paris, not an
unknown figure to the French savants, who were acquainted
with his scientific papers already translated into French by
D'Alibard. That he was feted by the Newtons of the physiocrats,
François Quesnay and the elder Mirabeau, as "le Savant,
le Geomètre, le Physicien, l'homme à qui la nature permet de
dévoiler ses secrets,"[i-225] we are assured, when to De Nemours
(July 28, 1768) he writes regretfully: "Be so good as to present
my sincere respect to that venerable apostle, Dr. Quesnay, and
to the illustrious Ami des Hommes (of whose civilities to me at
Paris I retain a grateful remembrance)...."[i-226] Having missed
Franklin in Paris (1767), De Nemours had sent Franklin "un
recueil des principaux traités économiques du Docteur Quesnay"
and his own Physiocratie (1768), which cast him in the role
"of a propagandist of Physiocratie doctrines."[i-227] Franklin
admitted, "I am perfectly charmed with them, and wish I
could have stayed in France for some time, to have studied in[lxxvi]
your school, that I might by conversing with its founders have
made myself quite a master of that philosophy."[i-228] That Franklin
was not before 1767 unacquainted with the Économistes we
learn when he tells Dupont de Nemours that Dr. Templeman
had shown him the De Nemours-Templeman correspondence
when the latter was Secretary of the London Society for the
Encouragement of Arts, Manufactures, and Commerce. A
second trip to Paris (in 1769) to confer with Barbeu Dubourg,
an avowed physiocrat, concerning his forthcoming translation
of Franklin's works, served to acquaint him still further with
the doctrines of the new school.
Franklin's agrarianism[i-229] is congruent with physiocracy[i-230] in
as far as he observed that agriculture alone, of the many industries,
produced a surplus of wealth after all of the expenses of
production had been paid.[i-231] Each laborer produced more than[lxxvii]
enough to satisfy his own needs. This surplus the Économistes
termed the produit net. A worker in manufactures, it was assumed,
consumed foodstuffs and other materials in proportion
to the value he created in his manufacturing process. Hence
there obviously could be no produit net accruing from manufactures.
Like the physiocrats, Franklin felt that manufactures
were sterile, to the extent that no new wealth was created. The
physiocrats believed, however, that laborers in manufacturing
industries could create a produit net if they stinted themselves in
consuming foodstuffs, et cetera, but it was argued that this prudential
asceticism was not a characteristic habit. To this extent
at least the physiocrats were empirical.
Free trade no less than agrarianism characterized physiocracy.
Although Franklin indicated his antagonism toward governmental
restraint of trade, internal and among nations, in his
antipathy toward British mercantilism, it was not until after he
became impregnated with French doctrine that he began to express
very fully his advocacy of free trade. After Connecticut
imposed a 5% duty on goods imported from neighboring
colonies, Franklin wrote to Jared Eliot in 1747 that it was likely
that the duty would devolve on the consumer and be "only another
mode of Taxing" the purchaser. In addition he recognized
that smuggling, virtually a colonial art, would cause the
"fair Trader" to "be undersold and ruined."[i-232] He urged that[lxxviii]
the import duty might suggest selfishness, and might also tend
to deter Connecticut commerce. Here, it must be admitted,
Franklin did not sanction free trade with a priori appeals to the
"natural order," the key in the arch of physiocracy. He rather
appealed to the instincts and observations of the prudential
tradesman. His Plan for Regulating Indian Affairs (1766), unlike
his 1747 letters, suggested (if it did not express concretely)
inviolable laws of commerce in the words: "It seems contrary
to the Nature of Commerce, for Government to interfere
in the Prices of Commodities.... It therefore seems to me,
that Trade will best find and make its own Rates; and that Government
cannot well interfere, unless it would take the whole
Trade into its own hands ... and manage it by its own Servants
at its own Risque."[i-233] To Dupont de Nemours he admitted that
British mercantilism had not achieved "that wisdom which sees
the welfare of the parts in the prosperity of the whole."[i-234] To
Sir Edward Newenham, representing the County of Dublin, he
expressed admiration for Irish efforts to secure freedom of commerce,
"which is the right of all mankind." "To enjoy all the
advantages of the climate, soil, and situation in which God and
nature have placed us, is as clear a right as that of breathing; and
can never be justly taken from men but as a punishment for
some atrocious crime."[i-235] Three years before he met Quesnay
(though after he had read Dupont de Nemours's letters to
Templeman), Franklin sanctioned free trade through appeal to
other than utilitarian prudence: first he admitted that British restraint
of colonial commerce, for example with the West Indies,
will tend to prevent colonists from making remittances for[lxxix]
British manufactured goods, since "The Cat can yield but her
skin." Then with a suggestion of philosophic generalization he
hoped that "In time perhaps Mankind may be wise enough to
let Trade take its own Course, find its own Channels, and regulate
its own Proportions, etc."[i-236] Restraint of manufactures
"deprive[s] us of the Advantage God & Nature seem to have intended
us.... So selfish is the human Mind! But 'tis well there
is One above that rules these Matters with a more equal Hand.
He that is pleas'd to feed the Ravens, will undoubtedly take
care to prevent a Monopoly of the Carrion."[i-237] Glorifying the
husbandman and suggesting that trade restrictions disturb a
natural order, Franklin wrote to David Hartley in 1783 that
Great Britain has tended to impede "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."[i-238]
That Franklin was not without his influence in eighteenth-century
economic thought we may gather from Dugald Stewart's
opinion that "the expressions laissez-faire and, pas trop gouverner
are indebted chiefly for their extensive circulation to the short
and luminous comments of Franklin, which had so extraordinary
an influence on public opinion in the old and new[lxxx]
world."[i-239] Mr. Carey maintains that Franklin, unlike the physiocrats,
inveighed against trade regulations because they led to
smuggling rather than because to any important degree they
violated the "natural order." The physiocrats are tenuous,
amorphous, and ambiguous when they seek to define L'Ordre
naturel. At times Dupont de Nemours seems to identify it
with a primitivistic past.[i-240] Quesnay, on the other hand, says:
"Natural right is indeterminate in a state of nature. The right
only appears when justice and labour have been established."[i-241]
Again, he asserts: "By entering society and making conventions
for their mutual advantage men increase the scope of natural
right without incurring any restriction of their liberties, for this
is just the state of things that enlightened reason would have
chosen."[i-242] Natural order is a "providential order": "Its laws
are irrevocable, pertaining as they do to the essence of matter
and the soul of humanity. They are just the expression of the
will of God."[i-243] According to the physiocrats, the laws of the
natural order are "unique, eternal, invariable, and universal."[i-244]
Now it is true that nowhere did Franklin assert that his advocacy
of laissez faire and agrarianism was neatly dependent on
these a priori bases. Even though this is true, there are references
(quoted above) which seem to suggest that trade restrictions are
violations of the very nature of things. It is not wholly fanciful
(bearing in mind Franklin's adoration of a Deity who is the creator
and sustainer of immutable, universal physical laws which
together present the mind with the concept of a vast, wonderfully
harmonized physical machine) to conjecture to what extent
this matchless physical harmony tended to challenge him with
the possibility of discovering a parallel economic machine
operating according to immutable laws capable of proof and
human adaptability.
[lxxxi]
O. H. Taylor has shown that "The evolution of the idea of
'laws' in economics has closely paralleled its evolution in the
natural sciences."[i-245] In searching for these economic constants,
"the economic mechanism was regarded as a wise device of the
Creator for causing individuals, while pursuing only their own
interests, to promote the prosperity of society; and for causing
the right adjustment to one another of supplies, demand, prices,
and incomes, to take place automatically, in consequence of the
free action of all individuals."[i-246] After giving due weight to the
fact that Franklin saw in the doctrine of the physiocrats trenchant
arguments to buttress his attacks on British mercantilism,
one has cogent evidence for at least raising the question, To
what extent may his apprehension of a demonstrable physical
harmony have suggested to his speculative mind an economic
analogy?[i-247]
[lxxxii]
VI. FRANKLIN'S POLITICAL THEORIES
Plague of the Pennsylvania proprietaries, propagandist of the
American Revolution, moderator of the Constitutional Convention,
Franklin was all through his life a politician and statesman
in an age characterized above all by political speculations
and changes in the destiny of states. Colonial patriot, "arch
rebel of King George III," "idol of the court of Versailles,"
Franklin was a cyclopedia of political strategy and principles.
Only through a genetic survey of Franklin the political theorist
can one hope to understand his mind as he changed from
imperialist, to revolutionist, to the patriarch of the Constitutional
Convention who, like a balance wheel, moderated the extreme
party factions.
In the early 1720's, Franklin had breathed a Boston air
saturated with discontent between the royal governor and the
governed. By 1730 he was printer to the Pennsylvania Assembly
and in 1736 was appointed clerk to that body. Yet one
learns little of his political biases until 1747, when he published
Plain Truth. In 1729 he genially asserted that he was "no
Party-man,"[i-248] and in 1746 temperately stated,
Free from the bitter Rage of Party Zeal,
All those we love who seek the publick Weal.[i-249]
His Plain Truth (November, 1747), directed against the proprietary
governor as well as against the Quaker assembly,
showed Franklin a party man only if one dedicated to "the
publick weal" was a party man. With all respect for the Quaker
conscience which checks military activity, Franklin could not,
however, condone its virtually prohibiting others from defending[lxxxiii]
the province's border. And the proprietaries had shown
an inveterate unwillingness to arm Pennsylvania—a reluctance
which did not, however, prevent them from collecting taxes and
quitrents. On other questions the governor and his chiefs
had to contend with the opposition of the assembly. Without
opposition, the proprietary government could serenely kennel
itself in its medieval privilege of remaining dumb to an urgent
need: one remembers that eighteenth-century proprietary
colonies were "essentially feudal principalities, upon the grantees
of which were bestowed all the inferior regalities and subordinate
powers of legislation which formerly belonged to the
counts palatine, while provision was also made for the maintenance
of sovereignty in the king [the king paid little attention
to Pennsylvania], and for the realization of the objects of the
grant."[i-250] While the government remained inert, Pennsylvania
would be a pawn in the steeled hands of the French and their
rum-subsidized Indian mercenaries. Appealing to Scripture
and common sense, Franklin pleaded for "Order, Discipline,
and a few Cannon."[i-251] Not untruthfully he warned that "we
are like the separate Filaments of Flax before the Thread is
form'd, without Strength, because without Connection, but
Union would make us strong, and even formidable."[i-252] Since
war existed, there was no need to consider him a militarist
because he challenged, "The Way to secure Peace is to be prepared
for War."[i-253] In the midst of Plain Truth Franklin uttered
what only before the time of Locke could be interpreted in
terms of feudal comitatus: he entreated his readers to consider,
"if not as Friends, at least as Legislators, that Protection is as
truly due from the Government to the People, as Obedience
from the People to the Government."[i-254] Suggestive of the contract
theory, this is revolutionary only in a very elementary[lxxxiv]
way. With the French writhing under the Treaty of Paris, with
appeals to natural rights and the right of revolution, this once
harmless principle took on Gargantuan significance. But Thomas
Penn anticipated wisely enough the ultimate implication of
Franklin's paper; Penn intuitively saw the march of time: "Mr.
Franklin's doctrine that obedience to governors is no more due
them than protection to the people, is not fit to be in the heads
of the unthinking multitude. He is a dangerous man and I
should be glad if he inhabited any other country, as I believe
him of a very uneasy spirit. However, as he is a sort of tribune
of the people, he must be treated with regard."[i-255] It is difficult
to see how Franklin's passion for order and provincial union,[i-256]
obviously necessary, could have been considered so illiberally
subversive of the government. By 1747 Franklin had read in
Telemachus that kings exist for the people, not the people for
the kings; he must have read Locke's justification of the "Glorious
Revolution" and have become aware of the impetus it gave
to the British authority of consent in its subsequent constitutional
history.
After his first political pamphlet, he widened his horizon from
provincial to colonial affairs. Two years before the London
Board of Trade demanded that colonial governors hold a conference
with the Iroquois, Franklin seems to have devised plans
for uniting the several colonies. He was aware of the narrow
particularism shown by the provinces; he knew also that since
"Governors are often on ill Terms with their Assemblies," no
concerted military efforts could be achieved without a military[lxxxv]
federation.[i-257] One remembers that as soon as he could think
politically he was an imperialist, a lesser William Pitt, and in his
Increase of Mankind (1751) could gloat over an envisioned
thickly populated America—"What an Accession of Power to
the British Empire by Sea as well as Land!"[i-258] When the Board
of Trade, after British efforts to bring the colonies together had
failed, demanded that something be done, Franklin was appointed
one of the commissioners to meet at Albany in 1754.
Like Franklin, Governor Glen had admitted that the colonies
were "a Rope of Sand ... loose and inconnected."[i-259] Franklin's
plan, adopted by the commissioners, called for a Governor-General
"appointed by the king" and a Grand Council made up
of members chosen by the Assembly of each of the colonies, the
Governor "to have a negation on all acts of the Grand Council,
and carry into execution whatever is agreed on by him and that
Council."[i-260] Surely not a very auspicious beginning for one
who later was to favor the legislative over the executive functions
of state. The plan included the powers of making Indian
treaties of peace and war, of regulating Indian trade and Indian
purchases, of stimulating the settling of new lands, of making
laws to govern new areas, of raising soldiers, of laying general
duties, et cetera.[i-261] But Franklin did not minimize the lack of
cohesion of the colonies. We recollect that "in 1755, at a time[lxxxvi]
when their very existence was threatened by the French, Massachusetts
and New York engaged in a bitter boundary controversy
leading to riot and bloodshed."[i-262] The colonies refused
to ratify the plan—"their weak Noddles are perfectly
distracted,"[i-263] wrote Franklin. He was probably right when he
observed in 1789 that had the plan been adopted "the subsequent
Separation of the Colonies from the Mother Country
might not so soon have happened."[i-264] The sending of British
regulars to America and the resulting efforts at taxation were not
least among the sparks which set off the Revolution.
Franklin's Three Letters to Governor Shirley (1754), while
expressing no credulous views of the wisdom of the people,
maintained in one breath that the colonists were loyal to the
Constitution and Crown as ever colonists were and in another
that "it is supposed an undoubted right of Englishmen, not to
be taxed but by their own consent given through their representatives."[i-265]
(Shirley had apparently written that the Council
in the Albany Plan should be appointed by England, and
not by the colonial assemblies.) Franklin held for the colonists'
right to English civil liberty and the right to enjoy the
Constitution. Here again we find a factor later magnified into
one of the major causes of the Revolution.
In addition to being lethargic in the defense of the Pennsylvania
borders, the proprietor refused "to be taxed except for
a trifling Part of his Estate, the Quitrents, located unimprov'd
Lands, Money at Interest, etc., etc., being exempted by Instructions
to the Governor."[i-266] Thereupon Franklin turned from[lxxxvii]
colonial affairs (which had indeed proved obstinate) to pressing
local matters, when in 1757 he was appointed agent to go to London
to demand that the proprietor submit his estates to be taxed.
In the Report of the Committee of Aggrievances of the Assembly
of Pennsylvania[i-267] (Feb. 22, 1757) it was charged that the proprietor
had violated the royal charter and the colonists' civil
rights as Englishmen, and had abrogated their natural rights,
rights "inherent in every man, antecedent to all laws."[i-268]
Later it was but a short step from provincial matters to
colonial rights of revolution. In this Report we see Franklin
associated for the first time expressly with the throne-and-altar-defying
concept of natural rights.
Although we have yet to review the evidence which shows
that Franklin at one stage in his political career was an arch-imperialist,
we need to digress to observe an intellectual factor
which, if only fragmentarily expressed in his political thought
during his activities in behalf of Pennsylvania liberties, was to
become a momentous sanction when during the war he became
a diplomat of revolution. From the Stoics, from Cicero, Grotius,
Puffendorf, Burlamaqui, and as Rev. Jonathan Mayhew[i-269]
observes, from Plato and Demosthenes, from Sidney, Milton,
Hoadley, and Locke; in addition, from Gordon and Trenchard
(see Cato's Letters and The Independent Whig), Blackstone,
Coke—from these and many others, the colonists derived a
pattern of thought known as natural rights, dependent on natural
law.[i-270] There is no better summary of natural rights[lxxxviii]
than the Declaration of Independence; and of it John Adams
remarked: "There is not an idea in it but what has been hackneyed
in Congress for two years before."[i-271] Carl Becker pointedly
observes: "Where Jefferson got his ideas is hardly so
much a question as where he could have got away from
them."[i-272] A characteristic summary of natural law may be
found in Blackstone's Commentaries:[i-273]
This law of nature being coeval with mankind, and dictated
by God himself, is of course superior in obligation to any
other. It is binding over all the globe, in all countries and at all
times: no human laws are of any validity, if contrary to this;
and such of them as are valid derive all their force and all their
authority, mediately or immediately, from this original.[i-274]
Discoverable only by reason, natural laws are immutable and
universal, apprehensible by all men. As Hamilton wrote,
The origin of all civil government, justly established, must be
a voluntary compact between the rulers and the ruled, and must
be liable to such limitations as are necessary for the security of
the absolute rights of the latter; for what original title can any
man, or set of men, have to govern others, except their own
consent? To usurp dominion over a people in their own despite,
or to grasp at a more extensive power than they are willing to
intrust, is to violate that law of nature which gives every man
a right to his personal liberty, and can therefore confer no
obligation to obedience.[i-275]
[lxxxix]
In a pre-social state, real or hypothetical, men possess certain
natural rights, the crown of them, according to Locke,[i-276] being
"the mutual preservation of their lives, liberties, and estates,
which I call by the general name, property." In entering the
social state men through free consent are willing to sacrifice
fragments of their natural rights in order to gain civil rights.
This process would seem tyrannical were one to forget that
the surrender is sanctioned by the principle of consent. Men in
sacrificing their rights expect from society (i.e., the governors)
civil rights and, in addition, protection of their unsurrendered
natural rights. A voluntary compact is achieved between the
governor and the governed. If laws are fabricated which contravene
these, the governed have retained for themselves the right
of forcible resistance. A natural inference from these premises
is that sovereignty rests with the people. In the colonies this
secular social compact was buttressed by the principle of covenants
and natural rights within the churches. Sermons became
"textbooks of politics."[i-277] Miss Baldwin has ably illustrated
how before 1763 the clergy in Franklin's native New England[xc]
had popularized the "doctrines of natural right, the social contract,
and the right of resistance" as well as "the fundamental
principle of American constitutional law, that government,
like its citizens, is bounded by law and when it transcends its
authority it acts illegally."[i-278]
In an oration commemorating the Boston massacre Dr. Benjamin
Church stated the principle of the compact: "A sense of
their wants and weakness in a state of nature, doubtless inclined
them to such reciprocal aids and support, as eventually established
society."[i-279] Defining liberty as "the happiness of living
under laws of our own making by our personal consent or that
of our representatives,"[i-280] he warned that any breach of trust
in the governor "effectually absolves subjects from every bond
of covenant and peace."[i-281]
Then, too, Newtonian science buttressed the principle of
natural rights. Sir Isaac Newton demonstrated mathematically
that the universe was governed by a fagot of immutable, universal,
and harmonious physical laws. These were capable of
being apprehended through reason. Now even as reason discovered
the matchless physical harmony, so could reason, men
argued, ferret out unvarying, universal principles of social-political
rights. These principles constituted natural rights,
natural to the extent that all men had the power, if not the capacity,
to discover and learn them through use of their native
reason. Newton demonstrated the validity of physical law:
Locke sanctioned the supremacy of reason. Since Franklin[xci]
was himself motivated by Newtonian rationalism and was a
student of Locke, there is reason to believe that he was vibrantly
aware of the extent to which the scientific-rationalistic
ideology lent sanction to man's timeless quest for the certitude
of "natural rights," antecedent to all laws.
Franklin's mission to London in 1757 as Pennsylvania agent
may be understood through an examination of An Historical
Review of the Constitution and Government of Pennsylvania (London,
1759).[i-282] If not written by him, at least "the ideas are his."
Convinced that the proprietors "seem to have no regard to the
Publick Welfare, so the private Point may be gained—'Tis like
Firing a House to have Opportunity of stealing a Trencher,"[i-283]
Franklin knew that a brilliant attack had to be made were
he to intimidate the proprietary government into assuming
its charter responsibilities and granting the colonists what
they considered to be inviolable rights. By 1758 his "Patience
with the Proprietors is almost tho' not quite spent."[i-284] A few
months later, impatient with unresponsive officials, he wrote
to Joseph Galloway: "God knows when we shall see it finish'd,
and our Constitution settled firmly on the Foundation of Equity
and English Liberty: But I am not discouraged; and only wish
my Constituents may have the Patience that I have, and that I
find will be absolutely necessary."[i-285] In 1759 Franklin still
found the proprietors "obscure, uncertain and evasive," and
was acutely virulent in despising Rev. William Smith, who was
in London attacking him and the Quaker Assembly's demands.[i-286][xcii]
In the same letter to Galloway he uttered a thought
which he sought to develop during his second trip to London
as Assembly agent in 1764: "For my part, I must own, I am
tired of Proprietary Government, and heartily wish for that
of the Crown."
Turning to An Historical Review to learn the political principles
sanctioning the Assembly's grievances against its feudal
lords, one finds that the colonists conceived it "our duty to
defend the rights and privileges we enjoy under the royal
charter."[i-287] Secondly, they reminded the lords that the laws
agreed upon in England (prior to the settling of Pennsylvania)
were "of the nature of an original compact between the proprietary
and the freemen, and as such were reciprocally received
and executed."[i-288] Thirdly, they demanded the right to exercise
the "birthright of every British subject," "to have a property
of [their] own, in [their] estate, person, and reputation; subject
only to laws enacted by [their] own concurrence, either in
person or by [their] representatives."[i-289] Fourthly, they resisted
the proprietors on basis of their possession of natural rights,
"antecedent to all laws."[i-290] The editor of the protest charged
that "It is the cause of every man who deserves to be free,
everywhere."[i-291] It is ironic that this grievance should have
enjoyed the sanction of one who, like Lord Chatham, was an
empire builder, one who proudly wrote, "I am a Briton," and
even during the time he sought to retrieve the Pennsylvania
colonists' lost natural rights, entertained the ideas of a British
imperialist. Franklin little saw that the internal Pennsylvania
struggle was to be contagious, that the provincial revolt was
motivated partially at least by political theories which were to be
given expression par excellence when a discontented minority
created the Declaration of Independence. In 1760 Franklin[xciii]
had the satisfaction of witnessing the victory of the Assembly
over the Proprietors, although he was not unaware that the
right to tax feudal lands was less than that right he had already
envisioned—the right to become a royal colony.[i-292]
But Franklin's pleas for charter, constitutional, and natural
rights may be misleading if one considers his position as suggestive
of doctrinaire republicanism, of Paine's "Government is
the badge of our lost innocence," or of Shelley's
Kings, priests, and statesmen blast the human flower.
His political activities assert the rights of the governed against
the governor; his writings often indirectly suggest the intemperance
of the governed, and the need for something more
lasting than mere outer freedom. Like Coleridge, who wrote:
[Man] may not hope from outward forms to win
The passion and the life, whose fountains are within,
white-locked Father Abraham harangued:
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.[i-293]
[xciv]
With solid good sense Franklin acknowledged that "happiness
in this life rather depends on internals than externals."[i-294]
His purpose for being in London accomplished, Franklin
wrote The Interest of Great Britain Considered with Regard to
Her Colonies, and the Acquisitions of Canada and Guadaloupe
(1760). Since "there is evidence that the pamphlet created much
contemporary interest,"[i-295] Franklin undoubtedly had some influence
in causing the retention of Canada, a retention which
"made the American Revolution inevitable."[i-296] If the release
from French terrorism caused the colonists to become myopic
toward advantages lent them as a British colony, it is appropriate
in view of Franklin's later advocacy of independence and
ironic in view of his then imperialistic principles, that he should
have written The Interest of Great Britain. Here Franklin,
later to be a propagandist of revolution, cast himself in the role
of architect of a vast empire. For economic reasons, and for
colonial safety, he urged the retention, ridiculing the charge that
the colonies were lying in wait to declare their independence
from England, if the French were cast out from Canada.
Back in Pennsylvania in 1764 he declared the provincial government
"running fast into anarchy and confusion."[i-297] In his
Cool Thoughts on the Present Situation of Our Public Affairs
(1764) he set up a sturdy antagonism between "Proprietary
Interest and Power, and Popular Liberty." Unlike the "lunatic
fringe" of liberals who see "Popular Liberty compatible only
with a tendency toward anarchy" Franklin urged that the Pennsylvania
government lacked "Authority enough to keep the
common Peace."[i-298] The constitutional nature of proprietary
government had lost dignity and hence "suffers in the Opinion[xcv]
of the People, and with it the Respect necessary to keep up the
Authority of Government." Almost Burkean in his apology
for change, he suggested that the popular party demand "rather
and only a Change of Governor, that is, instead of self-interested
Proprietaries, a gracious King!" His Narrative of the Late Massacres
in Lancaster County[i-299] is a bloody tribute to the lack of
authority and police power of the current regime. The Petition
to the King for a royal governor maintained that, torn by "armed
Mobs," the government was "weak, unable to support its own
Authority, and maintain the common internal Peace of the
Province."[i-300]
While petitioning for a crown colony, he found himself in
1765 faced with a larger than provincial interest—Lord Grenville's
Stamp Act forced him into the role of one seeking definition
of colonial status. Such was his position in his examination
(1766) before the House of Commons relative to the repeal of
the Stamp Act. Almost brusquely he told his catechizers that
even a moderated stamp act could not be enforced "unless compelled
by force of arms."[i-301] With a preface asserting that
colonials before 1763 were proud to be called Old-England
men, he summarized: "The authority of parliament was allowed
to be valid in all laws, except such as should lay internal taxes.
It was never disputed in laying duties to regulate commerce."[i-302]
Parliament, in the colonial view, had no right to lay internal
taxes because "we are not represented there." Mr. Merriam
observes that in advancing this legal and constitutional issue,
the colonists "had in short an antiquated theory as to the position
and power of Parliament, and a premature theory of
Parliamentary representation."[i-303]
Franklin referred to the Pennsylvania colonial charter to prove
that all that was asked for was the "privileges and liberties of[xcvi]
Englishmen." When the examiners asked whether the colonists
appealing to the Magna Charta and constitutional rights of
Englishmen could not with equal force "object to the parliament's
right of external taxation," Franklin with cautious ambiguity
declared: "They never have hitherto."[i-304] Franklin's
skill in upholding tenuous, almost "metaphysical," constitutional
grievances (grievances, however, which were not upheld
by constitutional legalists in England) captivated Edmund
Burke's imagination: Franklin appeared to him like a schoolmaster
catechizing a pack of unruly schoolboys. Conservative
in his omission of any appeal to "natural rights," he was radical
in his legalistic distinctions between parliamentary rights
to levy certain kinds of taxes. His position in 1766 and for
several years following was one of seeking legal definitions of
the colonial status. Considering the popular excesses in the
colonies, Franklin's view was anything but illiberally radical.
Trying to counteract "the general Rage against America, artfully
work'd up by the Grenville Faction,"[i-305] fearful that the
unthinking rabble in the colonies might demonstrate too lustily
against duties and the redcoats,[i-306] Franklin saw, as a result of
the constitutional dilemma, the true extent of the fracture:
But after all, I doubt People in Government here will never
be satisfied without some Revenue from America, nor America
ever satisfy'd with their imposing it; so that Disputes will from
this Circumstance besides others, be perpetually arising, till
there is a consolidating union of the whole.[i-307]
His chief demand was for a less ambiguous relation between the
mother and her offspring, for a unified, pacific commonwealth[xcvii]
empire. Until he left for the colonies in 1775, he tirelessly
sought through conversation, conference, and articles[i-308]
sent to the British press (in addition he "reprinted everything
from America" that he "thought might help our Common
Cause") to reiterate patiently the colonies' "Charter liberties,"[i-309]
their abhorrence of Parliament-imposed internal taxes, and
the quartering of red-coated battalions. Constantly hoping for
a favorable Ministry (of a Lord Rockingham or a Shelburne), and
bemoaning the physical infirmities of Pitt which rendered him
politically impotent, Franklin felt almost romantically confident
at first of a change that must come. All the while, like Merlin's
gleam, visions of a world-encircling British empire haunted the
Pennsylvania tradesman. A letter to Barbeu Dubourg discloses
at once his belief in an imperial federation[i-310] and in the sovereignty
of the colonial assemblies: "In fact, the British empire
is not a single state; it comprehends many; and, though the
Parliament of Great Britain has arrogated to itself the power of
taxing the colonies, it has no more right to do so, than it has to
tax Hanover. We have the same King, but not the same legislatures."[i-311]
Marginalia by Franklin's hand in an anti-colonial[xcviii]
pamphlet written by Dean Tucker indicate how completely
he (and here he represented colonial, not private, opinion) had
failed to see the growth of parliamentary power: "These Writers
against the Colonies all bewilder themselves by supposing
the Colonies within the Realm, which is not the case, nor ever
was."[i-312]
By 1774 Franklin had discovered the futility of his imperialistic
illusions: ministries, fearing the siren colonies, had blocked
their ears with wax. The Pennsylvanian knew that "Divine
Providence first infatuates the power it designs to ruin."[i-313] He
who had wished for an empire as harmoniously companied as
the orbited harmony of celestial bodies lamented while on his
way to America in 1775 that "so glorious a Fabric as the present
British Empire [was] to be demolished by these Blunderers."[i-314]
Broken was "that fine and noble China Vase, the British
Empire."[i-315] In 1774 he would have gained little cheer from
William Livingston's opinion (uttered in 1768): "I take it that
clamour is at present our best policy."[i-316]
His sense of defeat was aggravated by that ugly scene in the
Cockpit in 1774 when Wedderburn bespattered the taciturn
colonial agent with foul invective. It had been charged that
Franklin, the postmaster, had purloined[i-317] letters of Governor[xcix]
Hutchinson and Lieutenant Governor Oliver of Massachusetts
and had sent them back to the colonies as proof of the colonists'
contention that the royal governors were hostile to
their colonial subjects. He whom (as Lord Chatham said)
"all Europe held in high Estimation for his Knowledge and
Wisdom, and rank'd with our Boyles and Newtons," was
decked by Wedderburn "with the choicest flowers of Billingsgate."
In the presence of Lord Shelburne, Lord North, the
Archbishop of Canterbury, Edmund Burke, Jeremy Bentham,
and Priestley, Franklin, "motionless and silent," bore the
harangue of the solicitor general for a full three hours.[i-318]
Franklin's eloquent mock humility inspired Horace Walpole
to write:
Sarcastic Sawney, swol'n with spite and prate,
On silent Franklin poured his venal hate.
The calm philosopher, without reply,
Withdrew, and gave his country liberty.
As propagandist for legislative freedom, Franklin, appealing
for sanction to legalistic and constitutional liberty more than
to natural rights, was no more radical than Edmund Burke. If
ever an extreme democrat, Franklin had yet by 1775 to become
one. Temperamentally hostile to "drunken electors," the "madness
of mobs," he held a patrician attitude toward authority.
Earlier, in 1768, he had written from London: "All respect to
law and government seems to be lost among the common people,
who are moreover continually inflamed by seditious scribblers,
to trample on authority and every thing that used to keep them
in order."[i-319] To Georgiana Shipley he sent (Epitaph on Squirrel
Mungo's death) this Miltonic and unrepublican sentiment:
[c]
Learn hence,
Ye who blindly seek more liberty,
Whether subjects, sons, squirrels or daughters,
That apparent restraint may be real protection
Yielding peace and plenty
With security.[i-320]
In 1771 he indicted Parliament in a letter to Joseph Galloway:
"Its Censures are no more regarded than Popes' Bulls. It is
despis'd for its Venality, and abominated for its Injustice."
But he hastened to show that he had no illusions that men
are natively pure, that only governments are wicked. With
almost a Hamiltonian distrust of the public ranks he wrote:
"And yet it is not clear that the People deserve a better Parliament,
since they are themselves full as corrupt and venal: witness
the Sums they accept for their Votes at almost every Election."[i-321]
Back in the colonies, Franklin remained just long enough to
help form a constitution for Pennsylvania,[i-322] and to aid Jefferson
in writing the Declaration of Independence.[i-323] After
the royal governors had dissolved the assemblies and the Continental
Congress urged the colonies to form their own constitutions,
Franklin assumed leadership in his state and helped
to compose a constitution less conservative than those of most[ci]
of the other colonies.[i-324] Created between July 15 and Sept. 28,
1776, essentially by one who had just worked on and signed the
Declaration of Independence, it is not strange that the dominant
ideology of this constitution—that of natural rights, the
compact theory, and consent of the governed—should be like
that of the Declaration. The new constitution has been called
the "most democratic constitution yet seen in America."[i-325]
The unicameral legislature, the assembly of representatives, the
plan of judicial review of laws every seven years, and other features
have been looked upon as demonstrating the dangerous
ultra-democratic tendencies of Franklin. The revolutionary
Benjamin Rush, who had helped Paine with Common Sense, was
dismayed because, in his view, Pennsylvania "has substituted
mob government for one of the happiest governments in the
world.... A single legislature is big with tyranny. I had rather
live under the government of one man than of seventy-two."[i-326]
One wonders to what extent Franklin was responsible for the
unicameral legislature when we know that it "was the natural
outcome of Penn's ideas of government as embodied in his
various charters."[i-327] The plural executive, the right of freemen[cii]
to form their militia and elect their own officers, the
extension of male suffrage, and other innovations in this constitution
were of a radical nature in as far as the populace
were given greater liberties and responsibilities than ever
before in the colonies. It seems almost incredible that the patrician-minded
Franklin, with his Puritan heritage, should
have thus almost hurriedly cast himself at the feet of the
people. Certain extenuating factors may be mentioned in an
attempt not to gloss over but to understand the violent antithesis
between Franklin the imperialist and Franklin the revolutionist.
To what extent did his antipathy for proprietary
governors, as well as the general colonial experience with governors,
suggest a joint executive of a council and governor?[i-328]
Since his experience as a Whig propagandist had been to exalt
colonial legislatures, to what extent did he see in the unicameral
form a plan which would give freest movement to the legislative
activity? Prior to 1776 there is little that would suggest that
Franklin had any confidence in men, unchecked.[i-329] Yet it is
difficult to show that, in the first flush of indignation against
England and revolutionary enthusiasm, Franklin did not favor
for a time distinctly radical tendencies.
In 1776 he left, as he wrote to Jan Ingenhousz, "to procure
those aids from European powers, for enabling us to defend our
freedom and independence."[i-330] He who had "been a Servant
to many publicks, thro' a long life" went to Passy, where from[ciii]
the Hôtel de Valentinois of M. Roy de Chaumont he was to direct
financial efforts calculated, with Washington's generalship, and
the assiduous loyalty of a minority group, to win the Revolution.
Welcomed as the apotheosis of "les Insurgens,"[i-331] he
was virtually deified; as Turgot expressed it, Eripuit caelo
fulmen sceptrumque tyrannis. The universality of his vogue in
France was primarily due to his deistic naturalism, his wily
pleading and activities in behalf of colonial independence, the
receptivity of the Gallic mind for any marten-capped child of
the New World, and to his scientific thought and experimentation
which had fortified Reason in purging the unknown of its
terror, helping thus to make the philosophe at home in his
reasonable world. Three weeks after Franklin arrived in France,
one Frenchman said that "it is the mode today for everybody
to have an engraving of M. Franklin over the mantelpiece."[i-332]
France overnight became Franklinist when the savant came to
dwell at Passy. Even before the victory of Yorktown he became
la mode. It was to be his success to convert France's unrecognized
alliance with the colonies to an open and undisguised
alliance, perhaps even to war with England.[i-333] But even
for one who enjoyed, as John Adams wrote, a reputation "more
universal than that of Leibnitz or Newton, Frederick or Voltaire,"[i-334]
it was to be a difficult task to manipulate a Beaumarchais,
a Vergennes, and others, in spite of the well-known
and inveterate economic and political grievances which the
French held for the English. The virtues he stressed in the
Morals of Chess he was able to translate into a diplomatic mien,[civ]
uniting "perfect silence" with a "generous civility." As a result,
his record as minister to France is marked by complete success;
but for this "it is by no means certain that American independence
would have been achieved until many years later."[i-335]
Plagued by Frenchmen desiring places in the colonial army,
feted by the philosophes, sorely vexed by the need for settling
countless maritime affairs, embracing and embraced by the
venerable Voltaire, corresponding with Hartley concerning exchange
of prisoners, shaping alliances and treaties, conducting
scientific experiments, investigating Mesmer, intrigued by
balloon ascensions, made the darling of several salons, associating
in the Lodge of the Nine Sisters with Bailly, Bonneville,
Warville, Condorcet, Danton, Desmoulins, D'Auberteuil, Pétion,
Saint-Étienne, Sieyès, and others, all men who helped to
give shape (or shapelessness) to the French Revolution,[i-336]
Franklin found little time to search for that philosophic repose
which he had long coveted. It may be extravagant to say
that Franklin was the "Creator of Constitutionalism in
Europe,"[i-337] but we know that in 1783 he printed the colonial
constitutions for continental distribution.[i-338] It has been suggested
that Franklin was an important formative factor in
Condorcet's faith in universal suffrage, a unicameral legislature,
and the liberties guaranteed by constitutional law.[i-339] Then,
too, Franklin had signed the Declaration of Independence—a
document which the French hailed as the "restoration of[cv]
humanity's title deeds."[i-340] The Duc de la Rochefoucauld eulogized
the unicameral legislature of Pennsylvania, identifying
"this grand idea" and its "maximum of simplicity" as Franklin's
creation.[i-341] Fauchet eulogized him as "one of the foremost
builders of our sacred constitution."[i-342] Along with Helvétius,
Mably, Rousseau, and Voltaire, Franklin was considered as one
who laid the foundations for the French revolution.[i-343] Franklin's
taciturnity, his "art of listening," his diplomatic reserve,
do not suggest a volatile iconoclast doing anything consciously
to bring about a republican France. This did not prevent him
from becoming a symbol of liberty by his mere presence in the
land, stimulating patriots to examine the foundations of the
tyrannical authority which they saw or imagined enslaving
them. Holding no brief for natural equality, Franklin suggested
that "quiet and regular Subordination" is "so necessary
to Success."[i-344] Realist that he was, he became almost obsessed
with the innate depravity of men until he was doubtful
whether "the Species were really worth producing or preserving."[i-345]
One would not be considered excessively republican
who inveighed against the "collected passions, prejudices,
and private interests" of collective legislative bodies.[i-346][cvi]
He wrote to Caleb Whitefoord: "It is unlucky ... that the
Wise and Good should be as mortal as Common People and
that they often die before others are found fit to supply their
Places."[i-347] The great proportion of mankind, weak and selfish,
need "the Motives of Religion to restrain them from
Vice."[i-348] No less extreme than J. Q. Adams's retort to Paine's
Rights of Man, that it is anarchic to trust government "to the
custody of a lawless and desperate rabble," was Franklin's
distrust of the unthinking majority.[i-349]
Having helped to free the colonies, Franklin fittingly became,
if not one of the fathers of the Constitution, then, due to the
serenity with which he helped to moderate the plans of extremists
on both sides, at least its godfather. If, as Mr. James M.
Beck asserts, the success of the Constitution has been the result
of its approximation of the golden mean, between monarchy and
anarchy, the section and the nation, the small and the large state,
then its success may be attributed not a little to Franklin's
genius.[i-350] After small and large states had waged a fruitless
struggle over congressional representation, Franklin spoke:
The diversity of opinion turns on two points. If a proportional
representation takes place, the small States contend that
their liberties will be in danger. If an equality of votes is to be
put in its place, the large States say their money will be in
danger. When a broad table is to be made, and the edges <of
planks do not fit> the artist takes a little from both, and makes
a good joint.[i-351]
[cvii]
The former imperialist could not logically become a state
rights advocate. Engrossed essentially in "promoting and securing
the common Good,"[i-352] he derided the advantage the
greater state would have, asserting that he "was originally of
Opinion it would be better if every Member of Congress, or
our national Council, were to consider himself rather as a Representative
of the whole, than as an Agent for the Interests of a
particular State." When Mr. Randolph considered,
To negative all laws, passed by the several States, contravening,
in the opinion of the national legislature, the articles of
union: (the following words were added to this clause on motion
of Mr. Franklin, "or any Treaties subsisting under the authority
of the union.")[i-353]
This is anything but the corollary of a defender of state rights.
Franklin was convinced that the permanence of the national
view alone could prevent federal anarchy. Addressing himself
to the problem of delegated authority Madison observed: "This
prerogative of the General Govt. is the great pervading principle
that must controul the centrifugal tendency of the States;
which, without it, will continually fly out of their proper orbits
and destroy the order & harmony of the political system."[i-354]
One is tempted to see here Newton's principle of gravity translated
into terms of political nationalism; one wonders whether it
is probable that (like Madison's) Franklin's emphasis on the
harmony of the whole could have been partly conditioned by
the cohesiveness and harmony of universal physical laws incarnate
in Newtonian physics, of which he was a master.
[cviii]
Franklin was "apprehensive ...—perhaps too apprehensive,—that
the Government of these States may in future times end
in a Monarchy."[i-355] He suggested that moderate rather than
kingly salaries paid the chief executive would tend to allay this
danger. Between Randolph, who belabored a single executive
as the "foetus of monarchy," and Wilson, who harbored it as
the "best safeguard against tyranny," stood Franklin, who saw
it as subversive of democratic sovereignty but not necessarily
fatal. He declared himself emphatically against the motion
that the executive have a complete negative.[i-356] Extolling
popular sovereignty, he warned that "In free Governments the
rulers are the servants, and the people their superiors & sovereigns."[i-357]
He refused to consider a plan which sought to
establish a franchise only for freeholders: "It is of great consequence
that we shd. not depress the virtue & public spirit
of our common people; of which they displayed a great deal
during the war, and which contributed principally to the favorable
issue of it."[i-358] Pinckney had made a motion that rulers
should have unencumbered estates:
Doctr Franklin expressed his dislike of every thing that
tended to debase the spirit of the common people. If honesty
was often the companion of wealth, and if poverty was exposed
to peculiar temptation, it was not less true that the possession
of property increased the desire of more property—[i-359].... This
Constitution will be much read and attended to in Europe, and
if it should betray a great partiality to the rich—will not only
hurt us in the esteem of the most liberal and enlightened men
there, but discourage the common people from removing to
this Country.[i-360]
Pinckney's motion was rejected. Franklin within the Convention[cix]
did not seem to fear Gerry's threat—"the evils we experience
flow from the excess of democracy."[i-361]
Franklin suggested the adoption of a unicameral legislature,
but does not seem to have made any struggle for it. His article
of 1789 in defense of the Pennsylvania (unicameral) legislature,
however, shows that he clung to the principle as firmly as he
had in 1776.[i-362] He questioned: "The Wisdom of a few Members
in one single Legislative Body, may it not frequently stifle bad
Motions in their Infancy, and so prevent their being adopted?"
In addition the bicameral house is cumbersome and provocative
of delay.
Little is known of Franklin's attitude toward the violent
controversy attendant upon efforts toward ratification. In his
Ancient Jews and Anti-Federalists[i-363] he warned the traducers of
the new Constitution against voiding an instrument which in
his opinion was as sound as the frailty of human reason would
allow it to be. In fact, said he, it "astonishes me, ... to find
this system approaching so near to perfection as it does."[i-364]
He may be said to have been anti-federalistic to the extent that
he feared a strong executive, guarded jealously the legislative
sphere, worried little about checks and balances, sought to
accelerate popular sovereignty; he was federalistic to the extent
that he opposed state localism with national sovereignty, was
not blind to the depravity of human nature and hence felt the
need for a vigorous coercive government. To M. Le Veillard
he confessed an almost Hamiltonian distrust of the multitude:
The Constitution "has ... met with great opposition in some
States, for we are at present a nation of politicians. And, though
there is a general dread of giving too much power to our governors,
I think we are more in danger from too little obedience
in the governed."[i-365] He made the same complaint a year later:
"We have been guarding against an evil that old States are most[cx]
liable to, excess of power in the rulers, but our present danger
seems to be defect of obedience in the subjects."[i-366] It is
difficult to reconcile his inveterate distrust of men with his
activity in behalf of an almost universal franchise, reluctance
to sanction the principle of checks and balances, and belief in
a unicameral legislature; it is difficult to reconcile the Plutarchan
fervor with which he advocated the wisdom of following great
leaders with his fear of a vigorous executive. It is not improbable
that those ideas which are generally anti-federalistic in
Franklin's political view are in part the result of his hatred of
proprietary abuses which he witnessed as a provincial statesman
during his middle age.
VII. FRANKLIN AS SCIENTIST AND DEIST
Jan Ingenhousz, the celebrated physician to Maria Theresa
of Austria, wrote a letter to Franklin on May 3, 1780, which
doubtless caused the patriarch of Passy to reflect—not without
sadness of heart—on the diversified fortune which time and
circumstance had devised for him. The physician (no friend to
the American revolution) implored Franklin not to abandon
"entirely the world Nature whose laws made by the supreme
wisdom and is constant and unalterable as its legislature himself
[sic]." Ingenhousz lamented that Franklin, "a Philosopher
so often and so successfully employed in researches of the most
intricate and the most mysterious operations of Nature,"[i-367]
should have given his time to politics.
Franklin is now most commonly viewed as a utilitarian
moralist, a successful tradesman and printer, a shrewd propagandist
and financier, the diplomat of the Revolution, and if at
all as a scientist, then only as a virtuoso, fashioning devices, such
as open stoves, bifocal spectacles, and lightning rods, for practical[cxi]
uses. Probably few general readers are aware that Franklin
was a disinterested scientist in the sense that he interrogated
nature with an eye to discovering its immutable laws. It is
conversely supposed that Franklin himself was unaware of any
inclination to pursue natural science to the exclusion of those
political achievements which have identified him as one of the
wiliest and sagest diplomats of the Enlightenment.
It may be learned, however (not without astonishment), that
Franklin almost from the beginning of his participation in
politics resented the time given over to such activities, as so
much time lost to his speculations and research in natural science.
As early as 1752 he wistfully (though realistically) confessed
that "business sometimes obliges one to postpone philosophical
amusements."[i-368] A month after this, he wrote to Cadwallader
Colden: "I congratulate you on the prospect you have, of
passing the remainder of life in philosophical retirement."[i-369]
In the midst of investigating waterspouts, he observed to John
Perkins: "How much soever my Inclinations lead me to philosophical
Inquiries, I am so engag'd in Business, public and private,
that those more pleasing pursuits [of natural science] are frequently
interrupted...."[i-370] He urged Dr. John Fothergill to
give himself "repose, delight in viewing the Operations of
nature in the vegetable creation."[i-371] In 1765, upon completing
his negotiations in behalf of the Pennsylvania Assembly, he
promised Lord Kames that he would "engage in no other"
political affairs.[i-372] To the notable professor of physics of the
University of Turin, Giambatista Beccaria, he wrote in 1768
from London (where he had sought to have the Stamp Act
rescinded) that he had to "take away entirely" his "attention
from philosophical matters, though I have constantly cherished
the hope of returning home where I could find leisure to resume[cxii]
the studies that I have shamefully put off from time to time."[i-373]
Again, in 1779, he confessed to Beccaria: "I find myself here
[Passy] immers'd in Affairs, which absorb my Attention, and
prevent my pursuing those Studies in which I always found the
highest Satisfaction; and I am now grown so old, as hardly to
hope for a Return of that Leisure and Tranquillity so necessary
for Philosophical Disquisitions."[i-374] He longed (in 1782) to
have Congress release him so that he might "spend the Evening
of Life more agreeably in philosophic [devoted to natural
science] Leisure."[i-375] He who, John Winthrop claimed, "was
good at starting Game for Philosophers,"[i-376] acknowledged that
he had thrown himself on the public, which, "having as it were
eaten my flesh, seemed now resolved to pick my bones."[i-377]
Reverend Manasseh Cutler visited Franklin a few months before
the patriarch's death. They ardently discussed botany, Franklin
boyish in his eagerness to show the Reverend Mr. Cutler a
massive book, containing "the whole of Linnaeus' Systema
Vegetabilies." "The Doctor seemed extremely fond, through
the course of the visit, of dwelling on Philosophical subjects,
and particularly that of natural History, while the other Gentlemen
were swallowed up with politics."[i-378] In a fictitious (?)
conversation between Joseph II of Austria and Franklin, the
Newton of electricity is reported as explaining that he was early
in life attracted by natural philosophy: "Necessity afterwards
made me a politician.... I was Franklin, the Philosopher to the
world, long after I had in fact, become Franklin the Politician."[i-379][cxiii]
After reviewing the evidence, it seems incredulous
to doubt that, regardless of his achievements in other fields,
Franklin sought his greatest intellectual pleasure in scientific research
and speculation, and that his doctrines of scientific deism
antedated and conditioned his political, economic, and humanitarian
interests.
If Franklin's inventions have been justly praised, his affections
for the empirical scientific method and his philosophic
interest in Nature's laws have been unjustly ignored. He observed
to Ebenezer Kinnersley "that a philosopher cannot be
too much on his guard in crediting their ["careless observers'"]
relations of things extraordinary, and should never build an
hypothesis on any thing but clear facts and experiments, or it
will be in danger of soon falling ... like a house of cards";[i-380]
and to Abbé Soulavie, "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."[i-381]
In 1782 he wrote to Sir Joseph Banks, president of the Royal
Society, that he longed to "sit down in sweet Society with my
English philosophic Friends, communicating to each other new
Discoveries, and proposing Improvements of old ones; all tending
to extend the Power of Man over Matter, avert or diminish
the Evils he is subject to, or augment the Number of his Enjoyments."[i-382]
A careful study of his scientific papers discloses
that he was not untrained in the method of hypotheses sustained
or rejected by patient and laborious experimentation: not fortuitously
did he arrive at conclusions in electricity, which were
epochal in (1) "His rejection of the two-fluid theory of electricity[cxiv]
and substitution of the one-fluid theory; (2) his coinage of the
appropriate terms positive and negative, to denote an excess or a
deficit of the common electric fluid; (3) his explanation of the
Leyden jar, and, notably, his recognition of the paramount
rôle played by the glass or dielectric; (4) his experimental
demonstration of the identity of lightning and electricity; and
(5) his invention of the lightning conductor for the protection
of life and property, together with his clear statement of its
preventive and protective functions."[i-383] Not only an inventor,
Franklin inductively observed natural phenomena, and drew
conclusions until he had created a virtual Principia of electricity.
His contemporaries were not loath to honor him as a second
Newton. Franklin, however, was in all of his researches under
a self-confessed yoke which doubtless tended to deny him access
to the profoundest reaches of scientific inquiry: from Philadelphia
he wrote in 1753 to Cadwallader Colden, eminent
mathematician (as well as versatile scientist): "Your skill &
Expertness in Mathematical Computations, will afford you an
Advantage in these Disquisitions [among them, researches in
electricity], that I lament the want of, who am like a Man searching
for some thing in a dark Room where I can only grope and
guess; while you proceed with a Candle in your Hand."[i-384]
In an effort to learn the modus operandi of Franklin's philosophic
thought, let us now review its genetic development, its
probable sources, its relation to scientific deism, and the degree
to which he achieved that serene repose for which he ever
strove. A pioneer American rationalist, not without his claims
to being "another Voltaire," Franklin as a youth read those
works which were forming or interpreting the thought patterns
of the age. Born in an epoch presided over by a Locke and a
Newton, an epoch of rationalism and "supernatural" rationalism,[cxv]
alike fed by physico-mathematical speculation. Franklin,
barely beyond adolescence, felt the impacts of the age of reason.
Scholars before and since M. M. Curtis have explained that "in
religion he was a Deist of the type of Lord Herbert of Cherbury."[i-385]
M. Faÿ has sought, without convincing documentary
evidence, to interpret Franklin's philosophic mind in terms
of Pythagoreanism.[i-386] We may find that these views are over
simple and historically inadequate—even wrong.
Franklin was reared "piously in the Dissenting way"[i-387] by a
"pious and prudent" Calvinistic father who died as he lived,
with "entire Dependence on his Redeemer."[i-388] "Religiously
educated as a Presbyterian,"[i-389] young Benjamin was taught that
Major est Scripturae auctoritas quam omnis humani ingenü capacitas.
He was nurtured on the Bible and "books in polemic
divinity," and he regularly attended services at the Old South
Church. Doubtless without reflection he was led to identify
goodness with the church and its worship. He was a part of
New England's bibliolatry. Not long before he was apprenticed
to his brother James he read Cotton Mather's Bonifacius—An Essay
upon the Good that is to be Devised and Designed by those
who desire to Answer the Great End of Life, and to do good while
they live, and Defoe's Essays upon Several Projects: or Effectual
Ways for Advancing the Interests of the Nation. He confessed
in 1784 that Bonifacius "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."[i-390] Mather, as an exponent of[cxvi]
Christian charity, urged that man help his neighbors "with
a rapturous assiduity,"[i-391] that he may discover the "ravishing
satisfaction which he might find in relieving the distresses of a
poor miserable neighbor."[i-392] It is ironic that Mather should
have apparently aided a young man to divorce himself from the
strenuous subtleties of theology. (Franklin was too young to
gather that Mather circumspectly warned against a covenant of
works, and hence was Pauline in his advocacy of charity rather
than of humanitarianism.) And from Defoe's Essays Franklin
received more than a penchant for projects. Like Mather, Defoe
observed that "God Almighty has commanded us to relieve and
help one another in distress."[i-393] Defoe seemed to young Franklin
to dwell on fellow-service—to promise that the good man need
not have understood all of the dogma of Old South meetinghouse.
Apprenticed to James, Franklin admitted that he "now had
access to better books."[i-394] Whatever the extent of James's
library in 1718, by 1722 the New England Courant collection
included Burnet's History of the Reformation, Theory of the
Earth, the Spectator papers, The Guardian, Art of Thinking [Du
Port Royal], The Tale of a Tub, and the writings of Tillotson.[i-395]
After reading most probably in these, and, as we are told, in
Tryon's Way to Health, Xenophon's Memorabilia, digests of
some of Boyle's lectures, Anthony Collins, Locke, and Shaftesbury,
Franklin became in his Calvinist religion a "real doubter."[i-396]
He became at the age of sixteen, as a result of reading Boyle's
Lectures,[i-397] a "thorough Deist."[i-398] We cannot be certain of[cxvii]
the Lectures read by Franklin, but we may observe Bentley's
Folly of Atheism (1692) and Derham's Physico-Theology (1711-1712),
which are representative of the series provided for by
Boyle. Like Mather's The Christian Philosopher (1721)[i-399] they
both employ science and rationalism to reinforce (never as
equivalent to or substitute for) scriptural theology. Fed by
Newtonian physics, Bentley discovers in gravity "the great
basis of all mechanism," the "immediate fiat and finger of God,
and the executions of the divine law."[i-400] Gravity, "the powerful
cement which holds together this magnificent structure of the
world,"[i-401] is the result of the Deity "who always acts geometrically."
Borrowing from Cockburne, Ray, Bentley, and Fénelon,
Derham offers likewise to prove the existence and operations of
the Workman from his Work.[i-402]
It is unlikely that Boyle's Lectures (characterized by orthodox
rationalism, augmented by Newtonianism) would alone
have precipitated in Franklin a "thorough deism." Not improbably
Locke, Shaftesbury, and Anthony Collins (whom
Franklin mentions reading) were most militant in overthrowing
his inherited bibliolatry. Although he does not say exactly
which of Collins's works he read, Collins's rationale is repeated
clearly enough in any one of his pieces. Warring against "crack-brain'd
Enthusiasts," the "prodigious Ignorance" and "Impositions
of Priests," against defective scriptural texts, Collins[cxviii]
defends "our natural Notions" against the authoritarianism of
priests. Vilifying the authority of the surplice, he apotheosizes
the authority of reason.[i-403] He intensifies the English tradition
of every-man-his-own-priest, and exclaims "How uncertain
Tradition is!"[i-404] From this militant friend of John Locke,
Franklin was doubtless impregnated with an odium theologicum
and an exalted idea of the sanctity of Reason.
Having read An Essay Concerning Human Understanding,[i-405]
Franklin may have remembered that Locke there observed,
"Nothing that is contrary to, and inconsistent with, the clear
and self-evident dictates of reason, has a right to be urged or
assented to as a matter of faith, wherein reason hath nothing
to do."[i-406] Like Collins, Locke urged a deistic rationale:
Since then the precepts of Natural Religion are plain, and
very intelligible to all mankind, and seldom to come to be controverted;
and other revealed truths, which are conveyed to us
by books and languages, are liable to the common and natural
obscurities and difficulties incident to words; methinks it would
become us to be more careful and diligent in observing the
former, and less magisterial, positive, and imperious, in imposing
our own sense and interpretations of the latter.[i-407]
[cxix]
In addition Franklin may have been influenced by Locke's implied
Newtonianism; he would suspect the subtleties of the
Old South Church when he read: "For the visible marks of
extraordinary wisdom and power appear so plainly in all the
works of the creation, that a rational creature, who will but
seriously reflect on them, cannot miss the discovery of a
Deity."[i-408] Like Newton, Locke inferred an infinite and benevolent
Geometrician from "the magnificent harmony of the universe."
Franklin also read Shaftesbury's Characteristics, which Warburton
quotes Pope as saying "had done more harm to revealed
religion in England than all the works of infidelity put together."[i-409]
Although he may have pondered over Shaftesbury's
"virtuoso theory of Benevolence," he was not one to be readily
convinced of the innate altruism of man. His Puritan heritage
linked with an empirical realism prevented him from becoming
prey to Shaftesbury's a priori optimism. He was aware of the
potential danger of a complacent trust in natural impulses, which
often lead to
The love of sweet security in sin.
To what extent did Franklin's nascent humanitarianism—mildly
provoked by the neighborliness of Mather and Defoe—receive[cxx]
additional sanction from Shaftesbury's doctrine that "compassion
is the supreme form of moral beauty, the neglect of it the
greatest of all offenses against nature's ordained harmony"?[i-410]
Identifying self-love and social, Shaftesbury saw the divine
temper achieved through affection for the public, the "universal
good."[i-411] Born among men who were convinced of the supremacy
of scripture, Franklin would at first be astonished
(then perhaps liberated) upon reading in the Characteristics that
"Religion excludes only perfect atheism."[i-412] From such a piece
as Shaftesbury's An Inquiry Concerning Virtue or Merit Franklin
learned that not all men preserved a union between theology
and ethics, scripture and religion. Although Shaftesbury occasionally
indicated a reverence for sacred scriptures, the totality
of his thought was cast in behalf of natural religion. He was convinced
that the "Deity is sufficiently revealed through natural
Phenomena."[i-413] Extolling the apprehension of the Deity
through man's uniform reason, Shaftesbury urbanely lampooned
enthusiasm, that private revelation which threatened to prevail
against the consensus gentium.
By 1725 Franklin had divorced theology from morality and
morality from conscience, having punctuated his youth with
faunish "errata."[i-414] Although he was as a youth too much at ease
in Zion, he did not lose substantial (if then a theoretic) faith in
the struggle between the law of the spirit and the law of the
members. Nurtured by the Bible, Bunyan, Addison and Steele,
Tryon, Socrates, and Xenophon—a blend of Christian and
classical traditions—he felt the reasonableness, if not the saintliness,
of curbing the resolute sway of his natural self.[i-415]
[cxxi]
After five years with James, a year in Philadelphia where part
of the time he worked with Samuel Keimer,[i-416] a fanatic[cxxii]
and bearded Camisard, Franklin, through the duplicity of
Governor Keith, found himself in November, 1724, aboard the
London-Hope, England-bound. It would be unfair to Franklin
were we to think him a primitive colonist to whom England
was an unreal, incalculable land. We remember that James
knew the London of Anne, Addison, Steele, Locke, and Newton.
And we have seen that the New England Courant library
was one of which no London gentleman and scholar need have
been ashamed. As a worker on this newspaper Franklin had set
up the names and some indications of the thoughts of such men
as Fénelon, Tillotson, Defoe, Swift, Butler, Bayle, Isaac Watts,
Blount, Burnet, Whiston, Temple, Trenchard and Gordon,
Denham, Garth, Dryden, Milton, Locke, Flamstead, and Newton.[i-417]
During his two years in London, working successively in the
printing houses of Samuel Palmer and James Watts, he mingled
with many of the leaders of the day. Probably because he had,
while yet in America, read (in the transactions of the Royal
Society) of the virtuosi's interest in asbestos, he wrote to
Sir Hans Sloane, offering to show him purses made of that
novel stuff.[i-418] And we know that Sir Hans Sloane received[cxxiii]
Franklin in his home at Bloomsbury Square. Before he met
other notables he published (what he called later an "erratum")
A Dissertation on Liberty and Necessity, Pleasure and
Pain (1725).[i-419] Franklin himself said this work was the result
of his setting up Wollaston's The Religion of Nature Delineated[i-420]
at Palmer's and his not agreeing with the author's "reasonings."
Coming to Wollaston's work (with Franklin's Dissertation
and Articles of Belief in mind) we can, however, see
much that Franklin agreed with, general principles which do
little more than reflect the current patterns of thought. Like
Franklin, Wollaston saw Reason as "the great law of our
nature."[i-421] With Locke he denied innate ideas.[i-422] That part
of The Religion of Nature Delineated in which he searched
with laborious syllogistic reasoning for the Ultimate Cause
(which could not produce itself) may have been boring to the
less agile mind of the young printer. Wollaston, however,
apologized for his syllogistic gymnastics offered in proof of
Deity since "much more may those greater motions we see in
the world, and the phenomena attending them" afford arguments
for such a proof:
I mean the motions of the planets and the heavenly bodies.
For these must be put into motion, either by one Common
mighty Mover, acting upon them immediately, or by causes and
laws of His Appointment; or by their respective movers, who,
for reasons to which you can by this time be no stranger, must
depend upon some Superior, that furnished them with the power
of doing this.[i-423]
[cxxiv]
With Newtonian rapture he marveled at "the grandness of this
fabric of the world,"[i-424] at "the chorus of planets moving periodically,
by uniform laws." Rapt in wonder, he gazed "up to
the fixt stars, that radiant numberless host of heaven." Like a
Blackmore, Ray, Fontenelle, or Newton, he felt that they were
"probably all possest by proper inhabitants."[i-425] He wondered
at the "just and geometrical arrangement of things."[i-426] These
are all sentiments that Franklin expressed in his philosophical
juvenilia.[i-427] But then, Franklin (after reading this sublimated
geometry which reduced the parts of creation to an equally
sublime simplicity) noted in Wollaston that man must be a free
agent,[i-428] that good and evil are as black and white, distinguishable,[i-429]
that empirically the will is free, the author urging with
Johnsonian good sense, "The short way of knowing this certainly
is to try."[i-430] Franklin's Dissertation was dedicated to his
friend James Ralph and prefaced by a misquotation from Dryden
and Lee's Oedipus. It purports, as Franklin wrote in 1779,
"to prove the doctrine of fate, from the supposed attributes of
God ... that in erecting and governing the world, as he was
infinitely wise, he knew what would be best; infinitely good, he
must be disposed, and infinitely powerful, he must be able to
execute it: consequently all is right."[i-431] With confidence lent
him by his a priori method, he proposed: "I. There is said to
be a First Mover, who is called God, Maker of the Universe.
II. He is said to be all-wise, all-good, all-powerful."[i-432] With
the nonchalance of an abstractionist, he concluded, "Evil doth
not exist."[i-433] Transcending the sensational necessitarianism[i-434][cxxv]
of Anthony Collins and John Locke, Franklin observed (with
an eye on Newton's law of gravitation) that man has liberty,
the "Liberty of the same Nature with the Fall of a heavy Body
to the Ground; it has Liberty to fall, that is, it meets with nothing
to hinder its Fall, but at the same Time it is necessitated to fall,
and has no Power or Liberty to remain suspended."[i-435] As a
disciple of Locke's psychology, Franklin reflected his concept of
the tabula rasa in describing an infant's mind which "is as if it
were not." "All our Ideas are first admitted by the Senses and
imprinted on the Brain, increasing in Number by Observation
and Experience; there they become the Subjects of the Soul's
Action."
In the Dissertation one can discover the extent to which Franklin
had absorbed (if not from Newton's own works, then from
his popularizers and intellectual sons such as Pemberton, Franklin's
friend) several of the essential tenets of Newtonianism.
Here we see his belief in a universe motivated by immutable
natural laws comprising a sublimely harmonious system reflecting
a Wise Geometrician; a world in which man desires to
affect a corresponding inner heaven. Enraptured by the order
of the natural laws of Newtonianism, and like a Shaftesbury
searching for a demonstrable inner harmony, Franklin (carrying
his a priorism to logical absurdity) was unable to reconcile free
will with Omniscience, Omnipotence, and Goodness. (In how
far was this partly the result of his having been steeped in
Calvinism's doctrine of Election?)
The Dissertation is as appreciative of Newton's contribution
to physics and thought as Thomson's[i-436] To the Memory of Sir Isaac Newton.[cxxvi]
Not unlike Franklin's framework is Shaftesbury's
thought in An Inquiry Concerning Virtue or Merit.[i-437]
Since Franklin acknowledged his reading of Shaftesbury and
since as late as 1730 he borrowed heavily from the Characteristics,
it seems probable that Shaftesbury lent Franklin in this
case some sanction for his only metaphysical venture.[i-438]
As one result of his printing A Dissertation he made the
acquaintance of Lyons, author of The Infallibility of Human
Judgement[i-439] who introduced him to Mandeville[i-440] and Dr.[cxxvii]
Henry Pemberton, who in turn "Promis'd to give me an opportunity,
some time or other, of seeing Sir Isaac Newton, of
which I was extreamly desirous; but this never happened [the
italics are the editors']."[i-441] Dr. Pemberton, physician and mathematician,
met Newton in 1722, and during the time Franklin
enjoyed his friendship was helping Newton to prepare the third
edition of the Principia. As a result of his aiding Newton "to
discover and understand his writings,"[i-442] Pemberton in 1728
published A View of Sir Isaac Newton's Philosophy. It is obvious
that Franklin could have discovered few men with a more
concentrated and enthusiastic knowledge of Newtonianism than
that possessed by Dr. Pemberton. As we have already noted,
Franklin undoubtedly derived his appreciation of Newtonian
speculation not from grubbing in the Principia but from secondary
sources. There is no reason to apologize for Franklin
on this score when we remember that Voltaire, who popularized
Newtonianism in France, exclaimed: "Very few people read
Newton because it is necessary to be learned to understand him.
But everybody talks about him." Desaguliers, coming to London
from Oxford in 1713, observed that "he found all Newtonian
philosophy generally receiv'd among persons of all ranks
and professions, and even among the ladies by the help of experiments."[i-443][cxxviii]
Pemberton wrote that the desire after knowledge
of Newtonianism "is by nothing more fully illustrated, than
by the inclination of men to gain an acquaintance with the operations
of nature; which disposition to enquire after the causes of
things is so general, that all men of letters, I believe, find themselves
influenced by it."[i-444] Through the sublimated mathematics
of the Principia, Pemberton observed, "the similitude found
in all parts of the universe makes it undoubted, that the whole
is governed by one supreme being, to whom the original is
owing of the frame of nature, which evidently is the effect of
choice and design."[i-445] To what extent Franklin later gave evidence
of his knowledge of Newtonian speculation we shall
further discover in his Articles of Belief.
He returned in the summer of 1726 on the Berkshire to Philadelphia
with Mr. Denham, a sweetly reasonable Quaker.[i-446][cxxix]
During this journey he wrote his Journal of a Voyage from
London to Philadelphia, indicating a virtuoso's interest in all
novel phenomena of nature. In Philadelphia he worked for
Denham, then Keimer, and finally established his own printing
house in 1728, a year after founding the Junto,[i-447] and the year
of his Articles of Belief. By this time, Franklin, like Hume,
wearied of metaphysics. Commonly this creed has been described
as illustrating the deism of Lord Herbert of Cherbury. It
is true that Franklin admits a God who ought to be worshipped,[cxxx]
the chief parts of worship being the cultivation of virtue and
piety; but there is no suggestion of Lord Herbert's fourth and
fifth dogmas, that sin must be atoned for by repentance, and that
punishment and rewards follow this life. His reaction against
Calvinism may be shown in his failure to include reference to
scripture, the experience of faith, and the triune godhead presided
over by the redeemer Christ. As a deist he accepted "one
supreme, most perfect Being." This Deity is the "Author and
Father of the Gods themselves." "Infinite and incomprehensible,"
He has created many gods, each having "made for himself
one glorious Sun, attended with a beautiful and admirable
System of Planets." Franklin offered his adoration to that "Wise
and Good God, who is the author and owner of our System."
It is conventional to suggest that his interest in the plurality of
worlds and gods should be traced to Plato's Timaeus.[i-448] In the
absence of any conclusive evidence concerning Franklin's study
of Plato, and in view of his profound awareness of contemporary
scientific and philosophical thought, it seems more reasonable
to see the source of this idea in the thought of his own age.
Let us remember that with the growth of the heliocentric cosmology
there resulted a vast expanse of the unknown, bound to
intrigue the speculations of the philosophers of the age. We
know that Ray, Fénelon, Blackmore, Huygens, Fontenelle,
Shaftesbury, Locke, and Newton all wondered about the plurality
of worlds and gods.
In company with the supernatural rationalists and deists,
Franklin exalted Reason as the experience through which God is
discovered and known. Through Reason he is "capable of observing
his Wisdom in the Creation." With Newtonian zeal,
upon observing "the glorious Sun, with his attending Worlds,"
he saw the Deity responsible first for imparting "their prodigious
motion," and second for maintaining "the wondrous Laws by[cxxxi]
which they move." As we have seen above, this argument
from the design of creation to a Creator was one of the most influential
and popular of the impacts of Newtonian physics. Like
Fénelon, Blackmore, and Ray, whom he read and recommended
that others read,[i-449] Franklin exclaimed:
Thy Wisdom, thy Power, and thy Goodness are everywhere
clearly seen; in the air and in the water, in the Heaven and on
the Earth; Thou providest for the various winged Fowl, and the
innumerable Inhabitants of the Water; thou givest Cold and
Heat, Rain and Sunshine, in their Season, [et cetera].
In addition to the works mentioned above which aided Franklin
in arriving at a natural religion, it is certain that his views and
even idiom received stout reinforcement from such a passage as
follows from Ray's classic work:
There is no greater, at least no more palpable and convincing
argument of the existence of a Deity, than the admirable act
and wisdom that discovers itself in the make and constitution,
the order and disposition, the ends and uses of all the parts and
members of this stately fabric of heaven and earth; for if in the
works of art ... a curious edifice or machine, counsel, design,
and direction to an end appearing in the whole frame, and in
all the several pieces of it, do necessarily infer the being and
operation of some intelligent architect or engineer, why shall
not also in the works of nature, that grandeur and magnificence,
that excellent contrivance for beauty, order, use &c. which is
observable in them, wherein they do as much transcend the
effects of human art as infinite power and wisdom exceeds finite,
infer the existence and efficacy of an omnipotent and all-wise
Creator?[i-450]
Then he directly referred to the Archbishop of Cambray's Traité
de l'existence et des attributs de Dieu. Oliver Elton observes[cxxxii]
that this work "with its appeal to popular science, is the chief
counterpart in France to the 'physico-theology' current at the
time in England."[i-451] From the skeleton of the smallest animal,
"the bones, the tendons, the veins, the arteries, the nerves, the
muscles, which compose the body of a single man"[i-452] to "this
vaulted sky" which turns "around so regularly,"[i-453] all show
"the infinite skill of its Author."[i-454] Although Fénelon is
applying Cartesian physics, here Descartes reinforced Newtonianism;
like Newton, Fénelon argued that cosmic motion is
ordered by "immutable laws," so "constant and so salutary."
Blackmore's Creation, a Philosophical Poem (1712), aiming to
demonstrate "the existence of a God from the marks of wisdom,
design, contrivance, and the choice of ends and means, which
appear in the universe"[i-455] also furnished additional sanction for
Franklin's emphasis on the wondrous laws of the creation and
the discovery of the Deity in his Work. Like James Thomson,
Blackmore seeks to show how
The long coherent chain of things we find
Leads to a Cause Supreme, a wise Creating Mind.[i-456]
In revolt against the contractile elements in Calvinism,
Franklin believed that God "is not offended, when he sees his
Children solace themselves in any manner of pleasant exercises
and Innocent Delights."[i-457] In his Articles of Belief Franklin
retains from his Dissertation his a priori concept of the Deity[cxxxiii]
as a creator and sustainer of "Wondrous Laws," immutable and
beneficent. To the depersonalized First Mover, however,
he has added "some of those Passions he has planted in us,"
and he suggests furthermore that the Deity is mildly providential.
A maker of systematic, if inhuman, metaphysics in the
Dissertation, the author of the Articles, in spite of the superficial
and embryonic metaphysics, succeeds better in making
himself at home in his world. To this embryonic religion
(linked with Franklin's obsession with the plurality of worlds
and gods—of no real significance save to indicate picturesquely
the extent to which he had, with the scientists of his age, extended
the limits of the physical universe) Franklin welded a
pattern of ethics, prudential but stern.
Mr. Hefelbower's description of the growth of free thought
might appropriately be applied to Franklin's Articles: "As the
supernatural waned in radical Deism, the ethical grew in importance,
until religion was but a moral system on a theistic
background."[i-458] Although the metaphysical portions of this
work are far too neighborly and casual to be inspiring and
provocative of saintliness, the ethical conclusions (would that
they were uttered less consciously and complacently!) are
worthy of the introspective force of New England's stern mind,
of the classic tradition of Socrates and Aristotle, and of England's
unbending emphasis on the middle way.[i-459] One could
learn from the Articles how to be just, if he did not discover
what is meant by the beauty of holiness. In 1728 Franklin,
though bewildered by the tenuousness of metaphysics, based
his religion on the "everlasting tables of right reason," plumbing
the "mighty volumes of visible nature." He was thus our pioneer
scientific deist, who discovered his chief sanction in popularized
Newtonian physics.
[cxxxiv]
Following Franklin's formal profession of deism buttressed by
Newtonian science in 1728, one must depend on scattered references
to plot the persistence of his philosophic ideology. His
Dialogues between Philocles and Horatio (1730), borrowed[i-460]
from Shaftesbury's The Moralists, suggest that his moral speculations
were dual and not reconciled; he seems torn between
humanitarian compassion and the self-development of the individual,
unable to decide which is the nobler good. One may
observe that this moral bifurcation was inveterate in Franklin's
mind, never resolving itself into a fondness for the idea that
human nature is inexorably the product of institutions and outward
social forms. A Witch Trial at Mount Holly suggests
that he felt free to handle scriptures with Aristophanic levity.
His intellectual conviction of a matchless physical harmony, as
yet unmatched in the world by a corresponding moral harmony,
is joyously seen in Preface to Poor Richard, 1735:
Whatever may be the Musick of the Spheres, how great
soever the Harmony of the Stars, 'tis certain there is no Harmony
among the Stargazers; but they are perpetually growling
and snarling at one another like strange Curs....[i-461]
Even Polly Baker is made to appeal to "nature and nature's
God,"[i-462] discovering in her bastard children the Deity's "divine
skill and admirable workmanship in the formation of their
bodies." In Proposals Relating to the Education of Youth in
Pensilvania (1749) Franklin remarked in a note on Natural
Philosophy that "Proper Books may be, Ray's Wisdom of
God in the Creation, Derham's Physico-Theology, [Pluche's?]
Spectacle de la Nature, &c."[i-463] Poor Richard, in addition to prognostications
of weather, survey of roads, Rabelaisian wit, and[cxxxv]
aphoristic wisdom, was a popular vehicle for the diffusion of a
Newtonianism bordering on a mild form of deism.[i-464]
Since Franklin's interest in science is too commonly discussed
as if his research were synonymous with a tinkering and
utilitarian inventiveness, it is pertinent to inquire in how far it
was at least partially (or even integrally) the result of his
philosophic acceptance of Newtonianism. Since his philosophic
rationale preceded his activities in science, it will not do to
suggest that his interest in science was responsible for his
scientific deism. He wrote (August 15, 1745) to Cadwallader
Colden, who was receptive to Newtonianism, that he [Franklin]
"ought to study the sciences" in which hitherto he had merely
dabbled.[i-465] Then follow his electrical experiments. In one of
his famous letters on the properties and effects of electricity
(sent to Peter Collinson, July 29, 1750) he allowed that the
principle of repulsion "affords another occasion of adoring
that wisdom which has made all things by weight and
measure!"[i-466] Investigating—like a Newton—nature's laws,
Franklin at first hand added to his philosophic assurance of the
existence of a Deity, observable in the physical order.
In 1739 Franklin met Reverend George Whitefield, whose
sermons and journals he printed while the evangelist remained
in the colonies.[i-467] He first angled public opinion through the
Pennsylvania Gazette, promising to print Whitefield's pieces
"if I find sufficient Encouragement."[i-468] The Pennsylvania
Gazette piously hoped that Whitefield's heavenly discourses
would be ever remembered: "May the Impression on all our Souls
remain, to the Honour of God, both in Ministers and People!"[i-469][cxxxvi]
As editor (perhaps even writer of some of those notices) Franklin
must have squirmed in praising the activities of one who
daily cast all deists in hell! But it should be observed that if
Franklin could not accept Methodistic zeal, he loved Whitefield,
the man.[i-470] Even so did Whitefield regard Franklin, the man
and printer—though not the scientific deist. Waiting to embark
for England in 1740, Whitefield wrote to Franklin from
Reedy Island: "Dear Sir, adieu! I do not despair of your seeing
the reasonableness of Christianity. Apply to God, be willing
to do the Divine Will, and you shall know it."[i-471] Twelve years
later Whitefield wrote to his printer-deist friend: "I find that
you grow more and more famous in the learned world. As you
have made a pretty considerable progress in the mysteries of
electricity, I would now humbly recommend to your diligent
unprejudiced pursuit and study the mysteries of the new
birth."[i-472] When troops had been sent to Boston, Franklin wrote
a letter to Whitefield (after January 21, 1768) which offers a
significant clue for estimating Franklin's philosophy: "I see
with you that our affairs are not well managed by our rulers
here below; I wish I could believe with you, that they are well
attended to by those above; I rather suspect, from certain circumstances,
that though the general government of the universe
is well administered, our particular little affairs are perhaps below
notice, and left to take the chance of human prudence or
imprudence, as either may happen to be uppermost. It is, however,
an uncomfortable thought, and I leave it."[i-473] Whitefield
"endorsed his friend's letter with the words, 'Uncomfortable
indeed! and blessed be God, unscriptural!'"[i-474] If in 1786 Franklin[cxxxvii]
wrote to an unknown correspondent (perhaps Tom Paine?)[i-475]
that any arguments "against the Doctrines of a particular
Providence" strike "at the Foundation of all Religion,"[i-476] he also
had written not long before that "the Dispensations of Providence
in this World puzzle my weak Reason."[i-477] Beneath the
taciturn and allegedly complacent, imperturbable Franklin
there is apparent a haunting inquietude. Never dead to his
Calvinist heritage, he sought to establish a providential relationship
between the Deity and man's fortunes, not a little chilled
in the presence of the virtually depersonalized Deity of the
Enlightenment. If Calvin's God was wrathful, he was providential;
his own Deity, if benevolent and omnipotent, seemed
strangely remote from the ken of man's moral experience.
Science had shown him a Deity existing at the head of a fagot of
immutable laws. If this Creator was picturesquely unlike the
fickle gods of Olympus, he was strangely like them to the
extent that he seemed to exist apart from man's moral nature.
When he wrote to his friend, the Bishop of St. Asaph,
"It seems my Fate constantly to wish for Repose, and never
to obtain it,"[i-478] was he in part longing for the retirement when
he would be able to resolve his doubts as to the workings of
Providence?
M. Marbois, discussing Franklin's religion with John Adams,
quietly noted that "Mr. Franklin adores only great Nature."[i-479]
Joseph Priestley "lamented that a man of Dr. Franklin's general
good character and great influence should have been an unbeliever
in Christianity, and also have done so much as he did to[cxxxviii]
make others unbelievers."[i-480] This evidence appears untrustworthy
in light of his diffident attitude toward church attendance,
even toward scriptures, as it may be discovered in his collected
works.[i-481] Even if he did not feel the desire to attend formal services,
he seemed, like Voltaire, to feel that they were salutary, if
only to furnish the canaille with the will to obey authority. In
1751 Franklin's mother, Abiah Franklin, wrote to her son: "I
hope you will lookup to God, and thank Him for all His good providences
towards you."[i-482] If he were unable to understand God's
providences, it was certain that he did not seek to disturb
others by calling the concept of a providential deity into question.
In England and France Franklin was revered as the answer
to the Enlightenment's prayer for the ideal philosopher-scientist.
Sir John Pringle,[i-483] one of his warmest friends, in a Royal
Society lecture in honor of Maskelyne, might well have been
describing Franklin's place in eighteenth-century science when
he said: "As much then remains to be explored in the celestial
regions, you [Maskelyne] are encouraged, Sir, by what has been
already attained, to persevere in these hallowed labours, from
which have been derived the greatest improvements in the most
useful arts, and the loudest declarations of the power, the wisdom,
and the goodness of the Supreme Architect in the Spacious
and beautiful fabric of the world."[i-484] To his age Franklin was
"that judicious philosopher," judicious and "enlightened" to
the extent that his experiments showed how men "may perceive[cxxxix]
not only the direction of Divine Wisdom, but the goodness
of Providence towards mankind, in having so admirably
settled all things in the sublime arrangement of the world, that
it should be in the power of men to secure themselves and their
habitations against the dire effects of lightning."[i-485] Turgot's
famous epigram on Franklin, the republican-deist, that he
snatched sceptres from kings and lightning from the heavens, in
part expressed the extent to which the French public conceived
of Franklin, the scientist, as detracting from the terror in the
cosmos, hence making their reasonable world more habitable.[i-486]
In the popular mind death-dealing lightning had been the visible
symbol and proof of Calvin's wrathful and capricious Jehovah.
Franklin's dramatic and widely popularized proof that even
lightning's secrets were not past finding out, that it acted according
to immutable laws and could be made man's captive
and menial slave, no doubt had a powerful influence in encouraging
the great untheological public to become ultimately more
receptive to deism. If Franklin was apotheosized as the apostle
of liberty, he was no less sanctified as a "Modern Prometheus."
In his own words, he saw science as freeing man "from vain
Terrors."[i-487] To Condorcet, his friend and disciple, Franklin
was one who "was enabled to wield a power sufficient to disarm
the wrath of Heaven."[i-488]
He expressed his creed just before his death in the often-quoted
letter to Ezra Stiles.[i-489] Bearing in mind his inveterate
scientific deism, we are not surprised that his religion is one
created apart from Christian scripture, that Jesus is the conventional,
amiable philosopher, respected but not worshipped by[cxl]
the Enlightenment. If he seems convinced in this letter that
God "governs" the universe "by his Providence," we have
seen above that his attitude toward the Deity's relation to man
and his world was anything but sure and free from disturbing
reflection. Convinced that the Deity "ought to be worshipped,"
he next observed "that the most acceptable service we render to
him is doing good to his other children." His a priori concept
of a benevolent Deity whose goodness is expressed in the harmony
of the creation, in effect challenged him to attempt to
approximate this kindness in his relations with his fellow men.
Apart from provoking humanitarianism, primarily an ethical
experience guided not by sentimentality but by reason and
practicality. Franklin's natural religion—like deism in general—failed,
as scriptural religion does not, to establish a
union between theology, the religious life, and ethical behavior.
It must be seen that Franklin had no confidence in achieving
the good life through mere fellow-service: he continually
urged man to conquer passion through reason, seeming to covet
pagan sobriety more than he did the satisfaction of having aided
man to achieve greater physical ease. If he felt that "to relieve
the misfortunes of our fellow creatures is concurring with the
Deity; it is godlike,"[i-490] he warned against helping those who
had failed to help themselves, implying that the inner growth of
the individual is more significant than his outward charity to
others. Whatever be the ultimate resolution of these antithetic
principles, we see that his humanitarianism was the offspring
of his a priori conceived Deity, augmented by his experiments
in science which led to discovery of nature's laws. His emphasis
on the inward and vertical growth of the individual toward
perfection, on the other hand, may be viewed as the expression
of the introspective force of his Puritan heritage and his knowledge,
direct and indirect, of classical literature. As in the polarity
of his thoughts concerning Providence, so here we see that the[cxli]
modus operandi of his mind is explicable in terms of the interplay
of the old and the new, Greek paganism (Socratic self-knowledge)
and Christianity and the rationale of the Enlightenment.
Before he became an economist, a statesman, a man of letters,
a scientist, he had embraced scientific deism, primarily impelled
by Newtonianism. We have observed that it is not improbable
that his agrarianism, emphasis on free trade, and tendency
toward laissez faire were partially at least the result of his efforts
to parallel in economics the harmony of the physical order.
Likewise, his views on education were conditioned by his faith
in intellectual progress, in the might of Reason, which in turn
was in part the result of his scientific deism. Then too, it may
well be suggested that his theories of rhetoric were to some degree
the result of his rationalistic and scientific habits of mind.
We have also seen that his scientific deism was among the
motivating factors of his belief in natural rights, which, coupled
with his empirical awareness of concrete economic and political
abuses issuing from monarchy and imperialistic parliamentarians,
made him alive to the sovereignty of the people in their
demands for civil and political liberty. This introduction, it
is hoped, has made apparent the fact that the growth of
Franklin's mind was a complex matter and that it was moulded
by a vast multitude of often diverse influences, no one of
which alone completely "explains" him. Puritanism, classicism,
and neoclassicism were all important influences. Yet perhaps
the modus operandi of this myriad-minded colonial, this provincial
Leonardo, is best explained in reference to the thought
pattern of scientific deism. To see the reflection of Newton and
his progeny in Franklin's activities, be they economic, political,
literary, or philosophical, lends a compelling organic unity to
the several sides of his genius, heretofore seen as unrelated.
Franklin's mind represents an intellectual coherence—an imperfect
counterpart to the physical harmony of the Newtonian
order, of which all through his life he was a disciple.
[cxlii]
CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE
1706. Benjamin Franklin born in Boston, January 17 (January
6, 1705, O. S.).
1714-16. After a year in Boston Grammar School is sent to
learn writing and arithmetic in school kept by George
Brownell, from which, after a year, he is taken to assist
his father, Josiah, a candlemaker.
1717. James Franklin returns from England, following apprenticeship
as printer.
1718. Benjamin is apprenticed to brother James.
1718-23. Period of assiduous reading in Anthony Collins,
Shaftesbury, Locke, Addison and Steele, Cotton Mather,
Bunyan, Defoe, etc.
1719. Writes and hawks ballads of the "Grub-Street" style,
"The Lighthouse Tragedy" and "The Taking of Teach
the Pirate."
1721-23. Aids brother in publishing the New England Courant.
During 1722-23 in charge of paper after James is
declared objectionable by the authorities.
1722. His Dogood Papers printed anonymously in the New
England Courant.
1723. Breaks his indentures and leaves for New York; eventually
arrives in Philadelphia.
1723-24. Employed by Samuel Keimer, a printer in Philadelphia.
1724. Visits Cotton Mather and Governor Burnet (New York).
Meets James Ralph, Grub-Street pamphleteer, historian,
and poet in the Thomson tradition. Patronized by
Governor Keith. Leaves for London in November on
the London-Hope to buy type, etc., for printing shop to
be set up in his behalf by Keith. Upon arrival he and
Ralph take lodgings in Little Britain.
1725-26. Employed in Palmer's and Watts's printing houses.
[cxliii]
1725. Publishes A Dissertation on Liberty and Necessity, Pleasure
and Pain. One result of this is acquaintance with
Lyons, author of The Infallibility of Human Judgement.
Through him Franklin meets Bernard Mandeville and
Dr. Henry Pemberton, who is preparing a third edition
of Sir Isaac Newton's Principia. Is received by Sir Hans
Sloane in Bloomsbury Square. Conceives of setting up
a swimming school in London.
1726. On July 21, with Mr. Denham, merchant and Quaker,
leaves for Philadelphia on the Berkshire. Between July 22
and October 11 writes Journal of a Voyage from London
to Philadelphia. Employed by Denham until latter's
death in 1727.
1727. Ill of pleurisy and composes his epitaph. After recovery
returns to Keimer's printing house. Forms his Junto
club. Employed in Burlington, New Jersey, on a job
of printing paper money.
1728. Forms partnership with Hugh Meredith. Writes Articles
of Belief and Acts of Religion, and Rules for a Club—his
Junto club "Constitution."
1729. Buys Keimer's The Universal Instructor in all Arts and
Sciences: and Pennsylvania Gazette (begun December 24,
1728). Changes name to Pennsylvania Gazette, first issue,
XL, September 25-October 2, 1729. (Published by
Franklin until 1748, by Franklin and David Hall from
1748 to 1766, after which Hall, until his death, and others
publish it until 1815.) Contributes to American Weekly
Mercury six papers of The Busy-Body, February 4, 1729-March
27, 1729. Writes and prints A Modest Enquiry
into the Nature and Necessity of a Paper Currency.
1730. Appointed Public Printer by Pennsylvania Assembly
(incumbent until 1764). Partnership with Meredith dissolved.
Marries Deborah Read (Mrs. Rogers). Prints
in Pennsylvania Gazette his Dialogues between Philocles
and Horatio.
[cxliv]
1731. First public venture: founds the Philadelphia Library
Company, first subscription library in America. Begins
partnership with Thomas Whitemarsh, Charleston,
S. C. (1732, publishes South Carolina Gazette.) Begins
Masonic affiliations: enters St. John's Lodge in February.
William Franklin born.
1732. Begins Poor Richard's Almanack (for 1733). His son
Francis Folger Franklin born (dies of smallpox in 1736).
Elected junior grand warden of St. John's Lodge.
1733. Begins to study languages, French, Italian, Spanish, and
continues Latin.
1734. Elected grand master of Masons of Pennsylvania for
1734-35. Reprints Anderson's Constitutions, first Masonic
book printed in America.
1735. Writes and prints three pamphlets in defense of Rev.
Mr. Hemphill. Prints, in the Pennsylvania Gazette, Protection
of Towns from Fire. Secretary of St. John's
Lodge until 1738. Writes introduction for and prints
Logan's Cato's Moral Distiches, first classic translated
and printed in the colonies.
1736. Establishes the Union Fire Company, the first in Philadelphia.
Chosen clerk of the Pennsylvania General Assembly.
1737. Appointed postmaster of Philadelphia (incumbent until
1753); also justice of the peace.
1739. Beginning of friendship with the Reverend George
Whitefield.
1740. Announces (November 13) The General Magazine and
Historical Chronicle.
1741. Six issues (January-June) of this magazine (the first
planned and the second issued in the colonies). With
J. Parker establishes a printing house in New York.
1742. Invents Franklin open stove.
1743. A Proposal for Promoting Useful Knowledge among the
British Plantations in America (circular letter sent to his
friends).
[cxlv]
1744. Establishes the American Philosophical Society and
becomes its first secretary. Daughter Sarah born. An
Account of the New Invented Pennsylvanian Fire-places.
Writes preface to and prints Logan's translation of
Cicero's Cato Major. Reprints Richardson's Pamela.
Father dies.
1746. Reflections on Courtship and Marriage, first of his writings
reprinted in Europe. Peter Collinson sends a Leyden
vial as gift to Library Company of Philadelphia.
Having witnessed Dr. Spence's experiments, Franklin
now begins his study of electricity.
1747. Plain Truth: or, Serious Considerations on the Present
State of the City of Philadelphia, and Province of Pennsylvania.
1748. Withdraws from active service in his printing and bookselling
house (Franklin and Hall). Advice to a Young
Tradesman. Chosen member of the Council of Philadelphia.
1749. Appointed provincial grand master of colonial Masons
(through 1750). Proposals Relating to the Education of
Youth in Pensilvania. Founds academy which later develops
into University of Pennsylvania. Reprints Bolingbroke's
On the Spirit of Patriotism.
1750. Appointed as one of the commissioners to make treaty
with the Indians at Carlisle.
1751. Experiments and Observations on Electricity, made at
Philadelphia in America, By Mr. Benjamin Franklin, and
Communicated in several Letters to Mr. P. Collinson, of
London, F. R. S. (London.) Idea of the English School,
Sketch'd out for the Consideration of the Trustees of the
Philadelphia Academy. Member of Assembly from
Philadelphia (incumbent until 1764). Observations Concerning
the Increase of Mankind, Peopling of Countries, Etc.
Aids Dr. Bond to establish Pennsylvania hospital.
1752. Collinson edition of Franklin's works translated into
French. Alleged kite experiment proves identity of
lightning and electricity. Invents lightning rod; in
September raises one over his own house. Mother dies.
Aids in establishing the first fire insurance company in
the colonies.
[cxlvi]
1753. Appointed (jointly with William Hunter) deputy postmaster
general of North America Post, a position he held
until 1774. Makes ten-weeks' survey of roads and post
offices in northern colonies. Abbé Nollet attacks Franklin
in Lettres sur l'électricité (Paris). Beccaria defends
Franklin's electrical theories against Abbé Nollet. Receives
M. A. from Harvard and from Yale. Receives Sir
Godfrey Copley medal from the Royal Society.
1754. Proposes Albany Plan of Union. Second edition of
Experiments and Observations on Electricity.
1755. An Act for the Better Ordering and Regulating such as are
Willing and Desirous to be United for Military Purposes
within the Province of Pennsylvania. A Dialogue Between
X, Y, & Z, concerning the Present State of Affairs in
Pennsylvania. Aids General Braddock in getting supplies
and transportation.
1756. Supervises construction efforts in province of Pennsylvania
(a task begun in 1755). Chosen Fellow of the
Royal Society of London. Chosen a member of the
London Society of Arts. Plan for Settling the Western
Colonies in North America, with Reasons for the Plan.
M. D'Alibard's edition of Franklin's electrical experiments
(French translation). Receives M. A. from William
and Mary College.
1757. Appointed colonial agent for Province of Pennsylvania
(arrives in London July 26). The Way to Wealth (for
1758). (In 1889 Ford noted: "Seventy editions of it have
been printed in English, fifty-six in French, eleven in
German, and nine in Italian. It has been translated into
Spanish, Danish, Swedish, Welsh, Polish, Gaelic, Russian,
Bohemian, Dutch, Catalan, Chinese, Modern Greek
and Phonetic writing. It has been printed at least four
hundred times, and is today as popular as ever.")
[cxlvii]
1759. Receives Doctor of Laws degree from University of St.
Andrews. September 5, made burgess and guild-brother
of Edinburgh. An Historical Review of the Constitution
and Government of Pennsylvania. (See Ford, pp. 110-111,
where he suggests that this "must still be treated as from
Franklin's pen.") Parable against Persecution. Meets
Adam Smith, Hume, Lord Kames, etc., in home of Dr.
Robertson at Edinburgh. Makes many electrical experiments.
Chosen honorary member of Philosophical
Society of Edinburgh.
1760. Provincial grand master of Pennsylvania Masons. The
Interest of Great Britain Considered with Regard to Her
Colonies. Elected to society of Dr. Bray's Associates.
(Corresponding member until 1790.) Successful close
of his issue with the proprietaries.
1761. Tour of Holland and Belgium.
1762. Receives degree of Doctor of Civil Law from Oxford.
Leaves England in August, arrives in America in October.
1763. Travels through colonies to inspect and regulate post
offices.
1764. Appointed agent for Province of Pennsylvania to petition
king for change from proprietary to royal government.
Leaves for London in November. Cool Thoughts on the
Present Situation of Our Public Affairs. A Narrative of
the Late Massacres in Lancaster County. Preface to the
Speech of Joseph Galloway, Esq.
1765. Presents Grenville with resolution of Pennsylvania
Assembly against Stamp Act.
1766. Examined in House of Commons relative to repeal of the
Stamp Act. Physical and Meteorological Observations.
With Sir John Pringle visits Germany and Holland
(June-August). Chosen foreign member of the Royal
Society of Sciences, Göttingen.
1767. With Sir John Pringle visits France (August 28-October
8). Meets French Physiocrats. Remarks and Facts
Concerning American Paper Money.
1768. Preface to Letters from a Farmer in Pennsylvania (J.
Dickinson). A Scheme for a New Alphabet and Reformed
Mode of Spelling. Causes of the American Discontents
before 1768. Art of Swimming. Appointed London
agent for colony of Georgia.
[cxlviii]
1769. Visits France (July-August). Appointed New Jersey
agent in London. Elected first president of the American
Philosophical Society.
1770. Appointed London agent for Massachusetts Assembly.
1771. Begins Autobiography (from 1706 to 1731) while visiting
the Bishop of St. Asaph at Twyford. Three-months' tour
of Ireland and Scotland. Entertained by Hume and Lord
Kames. Chosen corresponding member of Learned
Society of Sciences, Rotterdam.
1772. Chosen foreign member of Royal Academy of Sciences
of Paris.
1773. Abridgement of the Book of Common Prayer (with Sir
Francis Dashwood). Rules by Which a Great Empire
May Be Reduced to a Small One. M. Barbeu Dubourg's
edition of Œuvres de M. Franklin. Sends Hutchinson-Oliver
letters to Massachusetts.
1774. Examined by Wedderburn before the Privy Council
(January 29) in regard to the Hutchinson-Oliver correspondence.
Contributes notes to George Whately's
second edition of Principles of Trade. Dismissed as
deputy postmaster general of North America. Deborah
Franklin dies December 19.
1775. First postmaster general under Confederation. Returns
to America in May. Member of Philadelphia Committee
of Safety. Chosen a delegate to second Continental
Congress. An Account of Negotiations in London
for Effecting a Reconciliation between Great Britain and
the American Colonies. Appointed member of Committee
of Secret Correspondence.
1776. A commissioner to Canada. Presides over Constitutional
Convention of Pennsylvania. Appointed one of
committee to frame Declaration of Independence. In
September appointed one of three commissioners from
Congress to the French court. Leaves Philadelphia
October 27; reaches Paris December 21.
1777. Elected member of Loge des Neuf Sœurs. Chosen associate
member of Royal Medical Society of Paris.
[cxlix]
1778. Assists at initiation of Voltaire in Loge des Neuf Sœurs.
Officiates at Masonic funeral service of Voltaire. Signs
commercial treaty and alliance for mutual defense with
France. The Ephemera. Altercation with Arthur Lee.
1779. Minister plenipotentiary to French court. The Whistle.
Morals of Chess. B. Vaughan edits Franklin's Political,
Miscellaneous, and Philosophical Pieces.
1780. Dialogue between Franklin and the Gout.
1781. Chosen Fellow of American Academy of Arts and
Sciences: elected foreign member of Academy of Sciences,
Letters, and Arts of Padua, for work in natural
philosophy and politics. Appointed one of the peace
commissioners to negotiate treaty of peace between
England and United States.
1782. Elected Venerable of Loge des Neuf Sœurs.
1783. Signs treaty with Sweden. Prints Constitutions of the
United States. Elected Honorary Fellow of the Royal
Society of Edinburgh. Interest in balloons. Signs the
Treaty of Paris with John Jay and John Adams.
1784. With Le Roy, Bailly, Guillotin, Lavoisier, and others,
investigates Mesmer's animal magnetism (results in numerous
pamphlet reports). Remarks Concerning the Savages
of North America. Advice to Such as Would Remove to
America. Chosen member of Royal Academy of History,
Madrid. At Passy resumes work on Autobiography,
beyond 1731.
1785. Maritime Observations. On the Causes and Cure of
Smoky Chimneys. Signs treaty of amity and commerce
with Prussia. Resigns as minister to French Court, and
returns to Philadelphia. President of Council of Pennsylvania
(incumbent for three years). Associate member
of Academy of Sciences, Literature, and Arts of Lyons.
Councillor for Philadelphia until 1788. Member of
Philadelphia Society for the Promotion of Agriculture,
and Royal Society of Physics, National History and Arts
of Orleans, and honorary member of Manchester Literary
and Philosophical Society.
[cl]
1786. Chosen corresponding member of Society of Agriculture
of Milan.
1787. President of the Pennsylvania Society for the Abolition
of Slavery (incumbent until death). Pennsylvania delegate
to Constitutional Convention. Chosen honorary
member of Medical Society of London. Aids in establishing
the Society for Political Enquiry; elected its first
president.
1788. At Philadelphia works on Autobiography, from 1731-1757.
1789. Observations Relative to the Intentions of the Original
Founders of the Academy in Philadelphia and several
papers in behalf of abolition of slavery. At Philadelphia
resumes Autobiography, from 1757 to 1759. Chosen member
of Imperial Academy of Sciences of St. Petersburg.
1790. Paper on the slave trade, To the Editor of the Federal
Gazette, March 23. Dies, April 17, in Philadelphia.
[cli]
SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY
Starred items are of primary importance.
I. WORKS
Only the most useful and historically significant editions are
here listed. The student interested in other editions of Franklin's
works, the publication of his separate pamphlets, his contributions
to newspapers and periodicals, and his editorial
activities should consult P. L. Ford's Franklin Bibliography.
Many of these items are conveniently listed in The Cambridge
History of American Literature, I, 442 ff.
Experiments and Observations on Electricity, made at Philadelphia
in America, By Mr. Benjamin Franklin, and Communicated
in several Letters to P. Collinson, of London, F. R. S.
London: 1751. (For various editions and translations of this
and the supplementary letters added to first edition, consult
Ford's Bibliography.)
Political, Miscellaneous, and Philosophical Pieces; ... Written
by Benj. Franklin, LL. D. and F. R. S.... Now first collected,
With Explanatory Plates, Notes, ... [ed. by Benjamin
Vaughan]. London: 1779. ("The work is ably performed,
many pieces being for the first time printed as Franklin's;
and contains valuable notes. But what gives a special value
to this collection is that it is the only edition of Franklin's
writings [other than his scientific], which was printed during
his life time; was done with Franklin's knowledge and consent,
and contains an 'errata' made by him for it" [Ford, p. 161].
Review in Monthly Review, LXII, 199-210, 298-308, describes
his electrical experiments as constituting a "principia"
of electricity. See also Smyth, VII, 410-13, for Franklin's
own opinion.)
[clii]
Mémoires de la vie privée de Benjamin Franklin, écrits par luimême,
et adressés à son fils; suivis d'un précis historique de sa
vie politique, et de plusieurs pièces, relatives à ce père de la
liberté. Paris: 1791. (First edition of Franklin's Autobiography
to the year 1731; translation attributed to Dr. Jacques
Gibelin. "The remainder of his life is a translation from Wilmer's
Memoirs of Franklin, with the most objectionable
statements omitted" [Ford, p. 183]. For a succinct history of
Autobiography, editions, printing, translation, and fortunes
of the MS see Bigelow's introduction to Autobiography.)
Memoirs of the Life and Writings of Benjamin Franklin, LL. D.
F. R. S. &c.... Written by himself to a late period, and continued
to the time of his death, by his Grandson; William
Temple Franklin. Now first published from the original MSS....
3 vols. London: 1818. (The standard collection, according
to A. H. Smyth, until Sparks's edition. Representative
review in Analectic Magazine, XI, 449-84, June, 1818.)
The Works of Benjamin Franklin; containing several political
and historical tracts not included in any former edition, and
many letters official and private not hitherto published; with
notes and a life of the author, by Jared Sparks. 10 vols. Boston:
1836-1840. (Although Sparks took undesirable editorial
liberties with the MSS, rephrasing, emending, and deleting,
this edition still possesses value for its notes and inclusion of
pieces which Smyth does not include, but which may have
been written by Franklin. Includes many valuable letters to
Franklin. For reviews see North American Review, LIX,
446, and LXXXIII, 402.)
Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin. Edited from his Manuscript,
with Notes and an Introduction, by John Bigelow.
Philadelphia: 1868. (To quote Ford: "This is not only the
first appearance of the autobiography from Franklin's own
copy, but also the first publication in English of the four
parts, and the first publication of the very important 'outline'
autobiography. It is therefore the first edition of the autobiography"
[p. 199].)
[cliii]
The Life of Benjamin Franklin, written by himself. Now first
edited from original manuscripts and from his printed correspondence
and other writings, by John Bigelow. 3 vols.
Philadelphia: 1874. (Bigelow text of Autobiography and extracts
from Franklin's other works.)
The Complete Works of Benjamin Franklin including his private
as well as his official and scientific correspondence, and numerous
letters and documents now for the first time printed with many
others not included in any former collection, also the unmutilated
and correct version of his autobiography. Comp. and ed. by
John Bigelow. 10 vols. New York: 1887-1889. (Corrects
many of Sparks's errors and adds "some six hundred new
pieces." For first time works are chronologically arranged.)
*The Writings of Benjamin Franklin, collected and edited with a
Life and Introduction, by Albert Henry Smyth. 10 vols. New
York: 1905-1907. (The standard edition. It is unfortunate
that the editor has omitted pieces which are either too
Rabelaisian or too metaphysically radical, such as the Dissertation
of 1725, or are, in his mind, probably not written by
Franklin.)
II. COLLECTIONS AND REPRINTS
No attempt has been made to include the learned journal
articles which reprint occasional letters not in Smyth. Letters
which aid in understanding Franklin's mind have been referred
to in the Introduction and Notes.
Chinard, Gilbert. Les amitiés américaines de Madame d'Houdetot,
d'après sa correspondance inédite avec Benjamin Franklin
et Thomas Jefferson. Paris: 1924.
Diller, Theodore. Franklin's Contribution to Medicine. Brooklyn:
1912. (Able collection of Franklin's letters bearing on
medicine. Franklin is described "as one of the greatest benefactors,
friends, and patrons of the medical profession as
well as a most substantial contributor to the science and art
of medicine.")
[cliv]
[Franklin, Benjamin.] A Dissertation on Liberty and Necessity,
Pleasure and Pain. Reproduced from the first edition, with
a bibliographical note by Lawrence C. Wroth. The Facsimile
Text Society, New York: 1930. (Although A. H.
Smyth omitted this work from his Writings of Benjamin
Franklin, suggesting that "the work has no value," it is difficult
to see how a study of the modus operandi of Franklin's
mind could be thoroughly made without it. Parton in his
Life and Times of Benjamin Franklin, and I. W. Riley in his
American Philosophy: The Early Schools have reprinted it in
appendices.)
Franklin, Benjamin. Poor Richard's Almanack. Being the
Almanacks of 1733, 1749, 1756, 1757, 1758, first written under
the name of Richard Saunders. With a foreword by Phillips
Russell. Garden City, N. Y.: 1928. ("First facsimile edition
of a group of the Almanacks to be published.")
Franklin, Benjamin. The Prefaces, Proverbs, and Poems of
Benjamin Franklin Originally Printed in Poor Richard's
Almanacs for 1733-1758. Collected and ed. by P. L. Ford.
Brooklyn: 1890. (Best collection of its kind; in addition contains
account of popularity and function of almanacs in
colonial period.)
Franklin, Benjamin. Proposals Relating to the Education of
Youth in Pensilvania. Facsimile reprint, with an introduction
by William Pepper. Philadelphia: 1931. (Franklin's notes
omitted in Smyth. Proposals also reprinted by the William
L. Clements Library, Ann Arbor, Michigan: 1927; "though
not a facsimile reprint," it does include the notes. Thomas
Woody in his Educational Views of Benjamin Franklin [New
York: 1931] reprints it with the notes.)
Franklin, Benjamin. The Sayings of Poor Richard, 1733-1758.
Condensed and ed. by T. H. Russell. N.p.: n.d. (Best aphorisms
chronologically arranged.)
Goodman, N. G., ed. The Ingenious Dr. Franklin; Selected
Scientific Letters of Benjamin Franklin. Philadelphia: 1931.
(Includes several items not published in Smyth edition.)
Letters to Benjamin Franklin, from his Family and Friends,
1751-1790. [Ed. by William Duane.] New York: 1859.
Pepper, William. The Medical Side of Benjamin Franklin.
Philadelphia: 1911. (Essentially quotations from the A. H.
Smyth edition. Franklin is viewed as "an early and great
hygienist.")
[clv]
Stifler, J. M., ed. "My Dear Girl." The Correspondence of
Benjamin Franklin with Polly Stevenson, Georgiana and
Catherine Shipley. New York: 1927. (Engaging collection
showing Franklin's "capacity for lively and enduring friendship"
[p. vii]. Many of the letters to Franklin "printed now
for the first time." Contains several of Franklin's letters
hitherto unpublished.)
III. BIOGRAPHIES
Becker, Carl. "Benjamin Franklin," in Dictionary of American
Biography. New York: 1931. VI, 585-98. (The most
authoritative brief biography.)
*Bruce, W. C. Benjamin Franklin, Self-Revealed. 2 vols. New
York: 1917. (In spite of occasional extravagant statements
and a conservative temperament preventing him from discussing
Franklin's religion with sympathetic and historical
insight, Mr. Bruce has provided a brilliant and perspicuous
survey. "Self-revealed" fails to do justice to Bruce's incisive
commentary.)
*Faÿ, Bernard. Franklin, the Apostle of Modern Times. Boston:
1929. (A readable critical biography said to be based on "six
hundred to nine hundred unpublished letters." Would have
been more useful had it been given scholarly documentation.
Some new light on Franklin's Masonic activities and his
efforts during 1757-1762 to effect the growth of a British
empire. [Faÿ used the Franklin-Galloway correspondence in
the W. S. Mason and W. L. Clements collections.] Believes
that Franklin was a "follower of the seventeenth-century
English Pythagoreans": since this belief is largely undocumented,
one feels it curious that Pythagoreanism should bulk
larger than the pattern of thought provoked by Locke and
Newton. See very critical reviews by H. M. Jones in American
Literature, II, 306-12 [Nov., 1930], and W. C. Bruce,
American Historical Review, XXXV, 634 ff. [April, 1930].
The latter concludes that "there is very little, indeed, in the
text of the book under review that makes any unquestionably
substantial addition to our pre-existing knowledge of Franklin,
or is marked by anything that can be termed freshness of
interpretation.")
[clvi]
Faÿ, Bernard. The Two Franklins: Fathers of American Democracy.
Boston: 1933. (Charmingly spirited portrait of patriarchal
Franklin of Passy [reworking of materials in Franklin,
the Apostle of Modern Times]. Faÿ's habit of mingling
quotation, paraphrase, and intuition in use of Bache's
Diary suggests untrustworthy documentation. The second
Franklin is, of course, Benjamin Franklin Bache [1769-1798,
son of Sally Franklin and Richard Bache], editor of the republican
Aurora General Advertiser. For a judicial, unsympathetic
review see A. Guerard's in the New York Herald Tribune
Books, Oct. 22, 1933. J. A. Krout, in the American Historical
Review, XXXIX, 741-2 [July, 1934], observes that Faÿ
"fails to establish the elder Franklin's paternal relation to the
democratic forces of the 'revolutionary' decade after
1790.")
Fisher, S. G. The True Benjamin Franklin. Philadelphia: 1899.
(Highly prejudiced interpretation with disproportionate attention
to Franklin's acknowledged shortcomings.)
*Ford, P. L. The Many-Sided Franklin. New York: 1899. (A
gracefully solid and inclusive standard work.)
Hale, E. E., and Hale, E. E., Jr. Franklin in France. From Original
Documents, Most of Which Are Now Published for the
First Time. 2 vols. Boston: 1887-1888. (Convenient collection
of letters to Franklin; authors had access to Stevens and
American Philosophical Society collections. Franklin letters
and documents here given later published in Smyth. Useful
chapters on Franklin's friends, his vogue in France, meetings
with Voltaire, his activities in science, his interest in balloons,
and investigation of Mesmerism. See reviews in Dial, VIII,
7, IX, 204; Nation, XLIV, 368; Athenaeum, II, 77 [1887];
Atlantic Monthly, LX, 318.)
McMaster, J. B. Benjamin Franklin as a Man of Letters. American
Men of Letters series. Boston: 1887. (Fullest account of
this aspect of the many-minded Franklin. See also MacLaurin
and Jorgenson items, pp. clxv, clxvi below.)
[clvii]
More, P. E. Benjamin Franklin. Riverside Biographical Series.
Boston: 1900. (Suggestive of a précis of Parton's Life with
judicial, if not historical, penetration. Stimulating notes, such
as the following: Franklin was "a great pagan, who lapsed
now and then into the pseudo-religious platitudes of the
eighteenth-century deists.")
Morse, John Torrey, Jr. Benjamin Franklin. American Statesmen
series. Boston: 1889. (Compact account stressing his
political and diplomatic career.)
*Parton, James. Life and Times of Benjamin Franklin. 2 vols.
New York: 1864. (Although not all works ascribed to
Franklin by Parton are by his pen, and although new materials
have been added to the Franklin canon, he remains the
most encyclopedic and often the most penetrating of Franklin's
biographers. He deserves credit for printing in an
appendix Franklin's Dissertation on Liberty and Necessity,
Pleasure and Pain. For reviews see North American Review
[July, 1864]; Atlantic Monthly [Sept., 1864]; London Quarterly,
XXIII, 483; Littell's Living Age, LXXXIV, 289.)
Russell, Phillips. Benjamin Franklin, the First Civilised American.
New York: 1926. (The esprit and readableness of this
popular work do not offset its lack of precision, historical
scholarship, and taste.)
Smyth, Albert H. "Life of Benjamin Franklin," in Vol. X, 141-510,
of The Writings of Benjamin Franklin. (Stimulating
survey.)
Swift, Lindsay. Benjamin Franklin. Beacon Biographies of
Eminent Americans. Boston: 1910. (Brief series of biographical
"impressions" arranged chronologically.)
Weems, Mason L. The Life of Benjamin Franklin, with many
Choice Anecdotes and Admirable Sayings of this Great Man.
Baltimore: 1815. (One would think it unfair to smile
at a writer who had the wit to describe Franklin as one who
"with such equal ease, could play the Newton or the Chesterfield,
and charm alike the lightnings and the ladies." Contains
some imaginative, though intuitive, remarks on Franklin's
religion.)
[clviii]
IV. BIOGRAPHICAL AND CRITICAL STUDIES
Abbe, C. "Benjamin Franklin as Meteorologist," Proceedings
of the American Philosophical Society, XLV, 117-28 (1906).
("Worthy co-laborer" with Newton, Huygens, Descartes,
Boyle, and Gay-Lussac. He is "the first meteorologist of
America," "pioneer of the rational long-range forecasters.")
Abbot, G. M. A Short History of the Library Company of
Philadelphia: Compiled from the Minutes, together with some
personal reminiscences. Philadelphia: 1913.
Amiable, L. Une loge maçonnique d'avant 1789. La R.·. L.·.
Les Neuf Sœurs. Paris: 1897. (Fullest account of Franklin's
activities in French Freemasonry.)
Analectic Magazine, XI, 449-84 (June, 1818). (Review of W.
T. Franklin's edition of Franklin's works. Complexion of
this eulogy suggested by: "His name is now exalted in Europe
above any others of the eighteenth century.")
Angoff, Charles. A Literary History of the American People.
New York: 1931. II, 295-310. (It would be difficult to
match the debonair ignorance of this violently hostile essay.)
"A Poem on the Death of Franklin," Proceedings of the New
Jersey Historical Society, XV, 109 (Jan., 1930). (A typical
elegy based on theme suggested by Turgot's epigram on
Franklin.)
Bache, R. M. "Smoky Torches in Franklin's Honor," Critic,
XLVIII, 561-6 (June, 1906). (Charming in its caustic though
just view that "articles on Franklin have verged on superfluity.")
Bache, R. M. "The So-Called 'Franklin Prayer-Book,'" Pennsylvania
Magazine of History and Biography, XXI, 225-34
(1897). (See Rev. John Wright's account of the same in Early
Prayer Books of America [St. Paul: 1896], pp. 386-99.)
Biddison, P. "The Magazine Franklin Failed to Remember,"
American Literature, IV, 177-80 (May, 1932). (Survey of the
Franklin-Webbe altercation concerning the inauguration of
Franklin's General Magazine, and Historical Chronicle ...,
1741.)
[clix]
Bigelow, John. "Franklin as the Man," Independent, LX, 69-72
(Jan. 11, 1906). (Stresses his tolerance, common sense, and
"constitutional unwillingness to dogmatize.")
Bleyer, W. G. Main Currents in the History of American Journalism.
Boston: 1927. (Chapters I-II contain excellent survey
of the New England Courant, and the Pennsylvania
Gazette during its formative years. Bibliography, pp. 431-41.)
Bloore, Stephen. "Joseph Breintnall, First Secretary of the
Library Company," Pennsylvania Magazine of History and
Biography, LIX, 42-56 (Jan., 1935). (Valuable notes on
Franklin's collaborator in Busy-Body series.)
Bloore, Stephen. "Samuel Keimer. A Foot-note to the Life of
Franklin," Pennsylvania Magazine of History and Biography,
LIV, 255-87 (July, 1930). (Readers of the Autobiography
will appreciate this excellent study of one who figures prominently
in its pages.)
Brett-James, N. G. The Life of Peter Collinson. London: [1917].
(Many notes on Franklin-Collinson friendship. Collinson, it
is remembered, "started Franklin on his career as a researcher
in electricity.")
Buckingham, J. T. Specimens of Newspaper Literature; with
Personal Memoirs, Anecdotes, and Reminiscences. 2 vols.
Boston: 1850. (Vol. I, 49-88, discusses New England
Courant. Identifies Dogood Papers as Franklin's.)
Bullen, H. L. "Benjamin Franklin and What Printing Did for
Him," American Collector, II, 284-91 (May, 1926).
Butler, Ruth L. Doctor Franklin, Postmaster General. Garden
City, N. Y.: 1928. (A sturdily documented study illustrating
that Franklin "furnished the most highly efficient administration
to the postal system during the colonial period.")
Canby, H. S. "Benjamin Franklin," in Classic Americans.
New York: 1931, pp. 34-45. (Spirited estimate partly vitiated
by excessive emphasis on influence of Quakerism; Canby
observes that Franklin's mind represents "Quakerism conventionalized,
stylized, and Deicized.")
*Carey, Lewis J. Franklin's Economic Views. Garden City, N. Y.:
1928. (Excellent survey.)
[clx]
Cestre, Charles. "Franklin, homme représentatif," Revue
Anglo-Américaine, 409-23, 505-22 (June, August, 1928).
Choate, J. H. "Benjamin Franklin," in Abraham Lincoln, and
Other Addresses in England. New York: 1910, pp. 47-94.
(Sanely eulogistic biographical survey.)
Condorcet, Marquis de. Éloge de M. Franklin, lu à la séance
publique de l'Académie des Sciences, le 13 Nov., 1790 ...
Paris: 1791. (Both a eulogy, and an interpretation of why
France, as representative of the Enlightenment, eulogized
the Philadelphia tradesman. By the most sublime of the
philosophes.)
Cook, E. C. Literary Influences in Colonial Newspapers, 1704-1750.
New York: 1912. (Trenchant analysis of Franklin's
indebtedness to Addison and Steele—especially in the Dogood
Papers—the character of the New England Courant, advertisements
of books in Pennsylvania Gazette, etc. "Benjamin
Franklin was the only prominent man of the period who
deliberately attempted to spread the knowledge and love of
literature among his countrymen.")
Crane, V. W. "Certain Writings of Benjamin Franklin on the
British Empire and the American Colonies," Papers of the
Bibliographical Society, XXVIII, Pt. 1, 1-27 (1934). (Newly
identified Franklin papers more than double existing canon.
He becomes "the chief agent of the American propaganda in
England, especially between 1765 and 1770." New canon
promises to "illuminate the development of Franklin's political
ideas." Very significant.)
Cumston, C. G. "Benjamin Franklin from the Medical Viewpoint,"
New York Medical Journal, LXXXIX, 3-12 (Jan.
2, 1909). (Useful survey.)
Cutler, W. P., and Cutler, J. P. Life, Journals and Correspondence
of Rev. Manasseh Cutler. 2 vols. Cincinnati: 1888.
(Portrait of patriarchal Franklin at age of eighty-four.)
Dickinson, A. D. "Benjamin Franklin, Bookman," Bookman,
LIII, 197-205 (May, 1921). (Brief account of Franklin imprints.)
[clxi]
Discours du Comte de Mirabeau. Dans la séance du 11 Juin, sur
la mort de Benjamin Francklin [sic]. Imprimé par ordre de
l'Assemblée National. Paris: 1790.
Draper, J. W. "Franklin's Place in the Science of the Last
Century," Harper's Magazine, LXI, 265-75 (July, 1880).
(Franklin's discoveries "were only embellishments of his
life." Superficial.)
Duniway, C. A. The Development of Freedom of the Press in
Massachusetts. Cambridge, Mass.: 1906. (Chapter VI includes
account of James Franklin and the New England
Courant.)
Eddy, G. S. "Dr. Benjamin Franklin's Library," Proceedings
of the American Antiquarian Society, N. S. XXXIV, 206-26
(Oct., 1924). (This indefatigable scholar has ascertained the
titles of 1350 volumes in Franklin's library. This survey
article does not list the titles.)
*Eiselen, M. R. Franklin's Political Theories. Garden City,
N. Y.: 1928. (Thoughtful survey.)
Eiselen, M. R. The Rise of Pennsylvania Protectionism. Philadelphia:
1932. (University of Pennsylvania dissertation.
Chapter I describes Franklin's holding to laissez faire in a
state dominantly protectionist.)
Eliot, T. D. "The Relations Between Adam Smith and Benjamin
Franklin before 1776," Political Science Quarterly,
XXXIX, 67-96 (March, 1924). (Exhaustive documentary
data which fails to establish specific and incontrovertible
Franklin influence on Smith.)
"Excerpts from the Papers of Dr. Benjamin Rush," Pennsylvania
Magazine of History and Biography, XXIX, 15-30
(Jan., 1905). (Includes "Conversations with Franklin," pp.
23-8: Franklin terms Latin and Greek the "quackery of
literature"; is alleged to have reprobated the Pennsylvania
Constitution of 1776, in that it placed "the Supreme power of
the State in the hands of a Single legislature." Other interesting
sidelights.)
[clxii]
Farrand, Max, ed. The Records of the Federal Convention of 1787.
3 vols. New Haven: 1911. (Records show Franklin as a
sober moderator: when rival factions tended to render the
convention impotent, he said, "When a broad table is to be
made, and the edges <of planks do not fit> the artist takes a
little from both, and makes a good joint.")
Fauchet, Claude. Éloge civique de Benjamin Franklin, prononcé,
le 21 Juillet 1790, dans la Rotonde, au nom de la
Commune de Paris. Paris: 1790.
Faÿ, Bernard. "Franklin et Mirabeau collaborateurs," Revue
de Littérature Comparée, VIII, 5-28 (1928). (Franklin furnished
materials for Mirabeau's Considerations on the Order of
Cincinnatus.)
Faÿ, Bernard. "Learned Societies in Europe and America in
the Eighteenth Century," American Historical Review,
XXXVII, 255-66 (Jan., 1932). (Urges that like all learned societies
in the eighteenth century, Franklin's Junto and American
Philosophical Society "had Masonic leanings.")
Faÿ, Bernard. "Le credo de Franklin," Correspondant, 570-8
(Feb. 25, 1930).
Faÿ, Bernard. "Les débuts de Franklin en France," Revue de
Paris, 577-605 (Feb. 1, 1931).
Faÿ, Bernard. "Les dernières amours d'un philosophe," Correspondant,
381-96 (May 10, 1930).
Faÿ, Bernard. "Le triomphe de Franklin en France," Revue de
Paris, 872-96 (Feb. 15, 1931).
Ford, P. L. "Franklin as Printer and Publisher," Century
Magazine, LVII, 803-17 (April, 1899).
Ford, W. C. "Franklin and Chatham," Independent, LX, 94-7
(Jan. 11, 1906).
Ford, W. C. "Franklin's New England Courant," Proceedings
of the Massachusetts Historical Society, LVII, 336-53 (April,
1924).
Ford, W. C. "One of Franklin's Friendships. From Hitherto
Unpublished Correspondence between Madame de Brillon
and Benjamin Franklin, 1776-1789," Harper's Magazine,
CXIII, 626-33 (Sept., 1906).
Foster, J. W. "Franklin as a Diplomat," Independent, LX, 84-9
(Jan. 11, 1906).
[clxiii]
Fox, R. H. Dr. John Fothergill and His Friends; Chapters in
Eighteenth Century Life. London: 1919. (Franklin and
Fothergill, "lovers of nature and keen students of physical
science," met in 1757. See also J. C. Lettsom, Memoirs of
John Fothergill, 4th ed., London: 1786.)
Garrison, F. W. "Franklin and the Physiocrats," Freeman,
VIII, 154-6 (Oct. 24, 1923). (Transcended by Carey's
chapter in Franklin's Economic Views, but has quotation from
Dupont de Nemours [1769]: "Who does not know that the
English have today their Benjamin Franklin, who has adopted
the principles and the doctrines of our French economists?")
Goggio, E. "Benjamin Franklin and Italy," Romanic Review,
XIX, 302-8 (Oct., 1928). (Largely through the efforts of G.
Beccaria, "Benjamin Franklin was one of the first Americans
to gain eminence and popularity among the people of Italy.")
Goode, G. B. "The Literary Labors of Benjamin Franklin,"
Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society, XXVIII,
177-97 (1890).
Grandgent, C. H. "Benjamin Franklin the Reformer," in
Prunes and Prisms, with Other Odds and Ends. Cambridge,
Mass.: 1928, pp. 86-97. ("The principles advocated in his
unfinished exposition [on spelling reform] are those which
phoneticians now advocate.")
Greene, S. A. "The Story of a Famous Book," Atlantic Monthly,
XXVII, 207-12 (Feb., 1871). (A kind of précis of Bigelow's
Introduction to Autobiography.)
Griswold, A. W. "Three Puritans on Prosperity," New England
Quarterly, VII, 475-93 (Sept., 1934). (Cotton Mather,
Timothy Dwight, and Franklin. One wonders by what right
Franklin is dubbed the "soul of Puritanism.")
Guedalla, Philip. "Dr. Franklin," in Fathers of the Revolution.
New York: 1926, pp. 215-34. (Chatty popular review of
"the first high-priest of the religion of efficiency.")
Guillois, Antoine. Le salon de Madame Helvétius. Paris: 1894.
Gummere, R. M. "Socrates at the Printing Press. Benjamin
Franklin and the Classics," Classical Weekly, XXVI, 57-9
(Dec. 5, 1932). (Survey of his references to the classics, with
occasional estimates of impact on his mind.)
[clxiv]
Hale, E. E. "Ben Franklin's Ballads," New England Magazine,
N. S. XVIII, 505-7 (1898). (Thinks "The Downfall of
Piracy," found in Ashton's Real Sea-Songs, is "one of the
two lost ballads" Franklin mentions in Autobiography.)
Hale, E. E. "Franklin as Philosopher and Moralist," Independent,
LX, 89-93 (Jan. 11, 1906). (Does not go beyond terming
Franklin's philosophy common sense.)
Harrison, Frederic. "Benjamin Franklin," in Memories and
Thoughts. New York: 1906, pp. 119-23. (Keen appraisal.)
Hart, C. H. "Benjamin Franklin in Allegory," Century Magazine,
XLI (N. S. XIX), 197-204 (Dec., 1890). (The French
sanctify Franklin in allegory.)
Hart, C. H. "Who Was the Mother of Franklin's Son? An
Inquiry Demonstrating that She Was Deborah Read, Wife of
Benjamin Franklin," Pennsylvania Magazine of History and
Biography, XXXV, 308-14 (July, 1911). (Plausible circumstantial
evidence is offered.)
Hays, I. M. The Chronology of Benjamin Franklin, Founder of
the American Philosophical Society. Philadelphia: 1904.
Hill, D. J. "A Missing Chapter of Franco-American History,"
American Historical Review, XXI, 709-19 (July, 1916).
(Political interests of Masonic "Lodge of the Nine Sisters,"
Paris, of which Franklin was an active member. Franklin described
as "creator of constitutionalism in Europe.")
Houston, E. J. "Franklin as a Man of Science and an Inventor,"
Journal of the Franklin Institute, CLXI, Nos. 4-5, 241-383
(April-May, 1906).
Hulbert, C. Biographical Sketches of Dr. Benjamin Franklin,
General Washington, and Thomas Paine; with an Essay on
Atheism and Infidelity. London: 1820. (Franklin and Washington
made almost saintly to contrast with Paine, "a notorious
Unbeliever." Quotes one who sees Franklin as "the
patriot of the world, the playmate of the lightning, the
philosopher of liberty.")
Jackson, M. K. Outlines of the Literary History of Colonial
Pennsylvania. Lancaster, Pa.: 1906. (Especially chapter III,
which surveys Franklin as man of letters.)
[clxv]
Jernegan, M. W. "Benjamin Franklin's 'Electrical Kite' and
Lightning Rod," New England Quarterly, I, 180-96 (April,
1928). ("The question still remains however whether Franklin
flew his kite before he heard of the French experiments,
and thus discovered the identity of lightning and electricity
independently." Summarizes and supersedes: McAdie, A.,
"The Date of Franklin's Kite Experiment," Proceedings of
the American Antiquarian Society, N. S. XXXIV, 188-205;
Rotch, A. L., "Did Benjamin Franklin Fly His Electrical
Kite before He Invented the Lightning Rod?" Proceedings
of the American Antiquarian Society, N. S. XVIII, 115-23.)
Jordan, J. W. "Franklin as a Genealogist," Pennsylvania Magazine
of History and Biography, XXIII, 1-22 (April, 1899).
Jorgenson, C. E. "A Brand Flung at Colonial Orthodoxy.
Samuel Keimer's 'Universal Instructor in All Arts and Sciences,'"
Journalism Quarterly, XII, 272-7 (Sept., 1935).
(Shows deistic tendencies.)
Jorgenson, C. E. "The New Science in the Almanacs of Ames
and Franklin," New England Quarterly, VIII, 555-61 (Dec.,
1935). (Newtonianism and scientific deism diffused through
these popular almanacs.)
Jorgenson, C. E. "Sidelights on Benjamin Franklin's Principles
of Rhetoric," Revue Anglo-Américaine, 208-22 (Feb., 1934).
(Franklin's principles in general are consonant with the eighteenth-century
neoclassic ideals.)
Jorgenson, C. E. "The Source of Benjamin Franklin's Dialogues
between Philocles and Horatio (1730)," American
Literature, VI, 337-9 (Nov., 1934). (The source is Shaftesbury's
"The Moralists," in the Characteristics.)
*Jusserand, J. J. "Franklin in France," in Essays Offered to
Herbert Putnam ... Ed. by W. W. Bishop and A. Keogh.
New Haven: 1929, pp. 226-47. (Delightful summary.)
Kane, Hope F. "James Franklin Senior, Printer of Boston and
Newport," American Collector, III, 17-26 (Oct., 1926). (A
study of his New England Courant and his place in the development
of freedom of the press.)
[clxvi]
King, M. R. "One Link in the First Newspaper Chain, The
South Carolina Gazette," Journalism Quarterly, IX, 257-68
(Sept., 1932). (Franklin's partnership with Thomas Whitemarsh
in 1731 is here alleged to have begun the first American
newspaper "chain.")
Kite, Elizabeth S. "Benjamin Franklin—Diplomat," Catholic
World, CXLII, 28-37 (Oct., 1935). (An intelligent and
appreciative brief survey of the subject, with a considerable
preface showing the extent to which Franklin's worldly
success grew out of his religious views.)
Lees, F. "The Parisian Suburb of Passy: Its Architecture in
the Days of Franklin," Architectural Record, XII, 669-83
(Dec., 1902). (Several good illustrations included.)
Livingston, L. S. Franklin and His Press at Passy; An Account of
the Books, Pamphlets, and Leaflets Printed There, including
the Long-Lost Bagatelles. The Grolier Club, New York:
1914. (For additions to this work begun by L. S. Livingston,
see R. G. Adams, "The 'Passy-ports' and Their Press,"
American Collector, IV, 177-80 [Aug., 1927], which includes
bibliography useful to study of the Passy imprints.)
MacDonald, William. "The Fame of Franklin," Atlantic Monthly,
XCVI. 450-62 (Oct., 1905).
Mackay, Constance D'A. Franklin. A Play. New York: 1922.
MacLaurin, Lois M. Franklin's Vocabulary. Garden City,
N. Y.: 1928. (His "conservative ideas about linguistic innovations"
are to a notable degree achieved in his practices.
For example, of a vocabulary of 4062 words used in his
writings between 1722 and 1751, "only 19 were discovered to
be pure 'Americanisms.'")
McMaster, J. B. "Franklin in France," Atlantic Monthly, LX,
318-26 (Sept., 1887). (Good survey, based on Hale and Hale,
Franklin in France.)
Malone, Kemp. "Benjamin Franklin on Spelling Reform,"
American Speech, I, 96-100 (Nov., 1925). (Franklin was the
"first American to tackle English phonetics scientifically.")
[clxvii]
Mason, W. S. "Franklin and Galloway: Some Unpublished
Letters," Proceedings of the American Antiquarian Society,
N. S. XXXIV, 227-58 (Oct., 1924). (Significant sidelights
cast on "the problems of Pennsylvania colonial history from
1757 to 1760." Excellent summary of Franklin's and Galloway's
victory over the Proprietors. Mr. Mason's collection
includes many valuable letters [Franklin-Galloway] between
1757 and 1772, not published in Smyth.)
Mathews, Mrs. L. K. "Benjamin Franklin's Plans for a Colonial
Union, 1750-1775," American Political Science Review, VIII,
393-412 (Aug., 1914).
Melville, Herman. Israel Potter. London: 1923. (Graphic
intuitive portrait of Franklin: he lives as a "household Plato,"
"a practical Magian in linsey-woolsey," a "didactically waggish,"
prudent courtier who "was everything but a poet.")
Mémoires de l'Abbé Morellet, de l'Académie Française, sur le dixhuitième
siècle et sur la Révolution. 2 vols. Paris: 1821.
(Especially II, 286-311. Franklin viewed as very emblem of
Liberty.)
Montgomery, T. H. A History of the University of Pennsylvania
from Its Foundation to A. D. 1770. Philadelphia: 1900.
Monthly Review; or Literary Journal: By Several Hands.
London: 1770. XLII, 199-210, 298-308. ("The experiments
and observations of Dr. Franklin constitute the principia of
electricity, and form the basis of a system equally simple and
profound.")
*More, P. E. "Benjamin Franklin," in Shelburne Essays, Fourth
Series. New York: 1906, pp. 129-55. (Provocative appraisal:
stresses Franklin's "contemporaneity," his tendency
to be oblivious to the past—a suggestive, if a moot point.)
Morgan, W. Memoirs of the Life of Rev. Richard Price. London:
1815. (Notes on Franklin's relations with Price during
early 1760's; meetings at Royal Society and London Coffee-house.)
Mottay, F. Benjamin Franklin et la philosophie pratique. Paris:
1886. (Good model for citizens of a free nation and "le
véritable catechisme de l'homme vertueux." Also several
just remarks on his style which possesses "les mots épiques
d'un Corneille et les élégantes périphrases d'un Racine.")
[clxviii]
Moulton, C. W., ed. Library of Literary Criticism of English
and American Authors. Buffalo, N. Y.: 1901. IV, 79-106.
(Stimulating assembly of extracts which aids student in discovering
the history of Franklin's reputation.)
Mustard, W. P. "Poor Richard's Poetry," Nation, LXXXII,
239, 279 (March 22, April 5, 1906). (Indicates Franklin's
borrowings from Dryden, Pope, Prior, Gay, Swift, and
others.)
Nichols, E. L. "Franklin as a Man of Science," Independent,
LX, 79-84 (Jan. 11, 1906). (Franklin's mind "turned ever
by preference to the utilitarian and away from the theoretical
and speculative aspects of things.")
"Notice sur Benjamin Franklin," in Œuvres posthumes de
Cabanis. Paris: 1825, pp. 219-74. (Representative in its
rapturous eulogy.)
Oberholtzer, E. P. The Literary History of Philadelphia. Philadelphia:
1906. (Chap. II, "The Age of Franklin," written with
conservative bias, belabors Franklin who as a statesman "was
almost as wrong as Paine and Mirabeau." What Voltaire
was to France, Franklin was to his native city and state.)
Oswald, J. C. Benjamin Franklin in Oil and Bronze. New
York: 1926. ("Probably the features and form of no man
who ever lived were delineated so frequently and in such a
variety of ways as were those of Benjamin Franklin." Best
survey of its kind, including many excellent reproductions.)
Oswald, J. C. Benjamin Franklin, Printer. Garden City, N. Y.:
1917. (Fullest and ablest account of this phase of Franklin's
life.)
Owen, E. D. "Where Did Benjamin Franklin Get the Idea for
His Academy?" Pennsylvania Magazine of History and
Biography, LVIII, 86-94 (Jan., 1934). (Inconclusive evidence
attributing it to Dr. Philip Doddridge.)
[clxix]
*Parker, Theodore. "Benjamin Franklin," in Historic Americans.
Ed. with notes by S. A. Eliot. Boston: 1908 [written in
1858]. (Franklin "thinks, investigates, theorizes, invents,
but never does he dream." Although Parker, an idealist and
reformer, exalts "the sharp outline of his [Franklin's] exact
idea," his humanitarianism, his combining the "rare excellence
of Socrates and Bacon" in making things "easy for all
to handle and comprehend," he concludes that Franklin is
"a saint devoted to the almighty dollar." There are few
more readable estimates.)
*Parrington, V. L. "Benjamin Franklin," in The Colonial Mind,
1620-1800. New York: 1927, pp. 164-78. (Emphasizes
Franklin's tendencies toward agrarian democracy; Parrington's
indifference to the genetic approach and his chronic
economic determinism lead him to slight the primary importance
of Franklin's religious and philosophic views in conditioning
his other activities.)
Pennington, E. L. "The Work of the Bray Associates in
Pennsylvania," Pennsylvania Magazine of History and Biography,
LVIII, 1-25 (Jan., 1934). (Franklin's humanitarian
interest in negro education. In 1758 he writes from London
urging school for instructing young Negroes in Philadelphia.)
Pennsylvania Magazine of History and Biography, XXV, 307-22,
516-26 (1901), XXVI, 81-90, 255-64 (1902). (Reprints
one of Dean Tucker's pamphlets with Franklin's annotations.
Casts light on Franklin's loyalty to the Crown, while
rebellious against Parliament.)
Potamian, Brother, and Walsh, J. J. Makers of Electricity.
New York: 1909. ("Franklin and Some Contemporaries,"
chapter II, pp. 68-132, by Brother Potamian, is an excellent
survey of Franklin's contributions to the science of electricity.)
Powell, E. P. "A Study of Benjamin Franklin," Arena, VIII,
477-91 (Sept., 1893). (Fair survey of Franklin as a diplomatist.)
Priestley, J. The History and Present State of Electricity, with
Original Experiments. London: 1767. (Many notes observing
Franklin's "truly philosophical greatness of mind."
Preface contains suggestive generalizations concerning function
of the natural philosopher: especially, he who experiments
in electricity discerns laws of nature, "that is, of the God of
nature himself.")
[clxx]
Rava, Luigi. "La fortuna di Beniamino Franklin in Italia,"
Prefazione al volume Beniamino Franklin di Lawrence Shaw
Mayo. Firenze: n.d.
Repplier, Emma. "Franklin's Trials as a Benefactor," Lippincott's
Magazine, LXXVII, 63-70 (Jan., 1906). (Concerning
those who during the Revolution wrote Franklin for favors
and places.)
Riddell, W. R. "Benjamin Franklin and Colonial Money,"
Pennsylvania Magazine of History and Biography, LIV, 52-64
(Jan., 1930).
Riddell, W. R. "Benjamin Franklin's Mission to Canada and
the Causes of Its Failure," Pennsylvania Magazine of History
and Biography, XLVIII, 111-58 (April, 1924).
*Riley, I. W. American Philosophy: The Early Schools. New
York: 1907, pp. 229-65. (Conventional view of Franklin's
deism; with C. M. Walsh [see below], Riley overemphasizes
influence of Plato on Franklin's thought.)
Riley, I. W. American Thought from Puritanism to Pragmatism
and Beyond. New York: 1915, pp. 68-77. (Graphic
glimpses of "most precocious of the American skeptics.")
Rosengarten, J. G. "The American Philosophical Society,"
reprinted from Founders' Week Memorial Volume. Philadelphia:
1908.
Ross, E. D. "Benjamin Franklin as an Eighteenth-Century
Agriculture Leader," Journal of Political Economy, XXXVII,
52-72 (Feb., 1929). (No "rural sentimentalist," Franklin
experimented in agriculture, particularly during 1747-1755,
as a utilitarian idealist. Quotes one who suggests Franklin
was "half physiocratic before the rise of the physiocratic
school." Excellent and well-documented survey.)
Sachse, J. F. Benjamin Franklin as a Free Mason. Philadelphia:
1906. ("To write the history of Franklin as a
Freemason is virtually to chronicle the early Masonic history
of America." Soundly documented survey. Includes useful
chronological table of Franklin's Masonic activities.)
[clxxi]
*Sainte-Beuve, C. A. Portraits of the Eighteenth Century. Tr. by
K. P. Wormeley, with a critical introduction by E. Scherer.
New York: 1905. I, 311-75. (The two essays on Franklin
in Causeries du lundi are "here put together," though with
no important omissions from either. Brilliant portrait of the
"most gracious, smiling, and persuasive utilitarian," one
who assigned "no part to human imagination.")
Seipp, Erika. Benjamin Franklins Religion und Ethik. Darmstadt:
1932. (Suggestive, though brief, view of Franklin's
deism and utilitarianism. Attempts to see his thought in
reference to various representative deists. This is not, however,
a "source" study.)
Shepherd, W. R. History of Proprietary Government in Pennsylvania.
New York: 1896. (Franklin emerges as "a sort
of tribune to the people," a "mighty Goliath," a "plague"
in the eyes of the feudalistic rulers of Pennsylvania, "a huge
fief." Author relatively unsympathetic to Franklin.)
*Sherman, S. P. "Franklin and the Age of Enlightenment," in
Americans. New York: 1922, pp. 28-62. (Penetrating survey
and estimate.)
Smith, William, D.D. Eulogium on Benjamin Franklin. Philadelphia:
1792. (One agrees with P. L. Ford, that this work
"forms a somewhat amusing contrast to the savageness
of the Doctor's earlier writings against Franklin." Bombastic
in its rhetoric and eulogy.)
Smythe, J. H., Jr., comp. The Amazing Benjamin Franklin.
New York: 1929. (Anthology of brief, popular estimates.
If individual notes are trivial, the collection illustrates Franklin's
many-mindedness, a Renaissance versatility.)
Sonneck, O. G. "Benjamin Franklin's Relation to Music,"
Music, XIX, 1-14 (Nov., 1900).
Steell, Willis. Benjamin Franklin of Paris, 1776-1785. New
York: 1928. (An undocumented, partly imaginative, popular
account.)
Stifler, J. M. The Religion of Benjamin Franklin. New York:
1925. (Popular survey. Warm appreciation of Franklin's
penchant for projects of a humanitarian sort.)
[clxxii]
Stuber, Henry. "Life of Franklin" [a biography meant as a
continuation of Franklin's Autobiography], in Columbian
Magazine and Universal Asylum, May, July, September,
October, November, 1790, and February, March, May, June,
1791.
*Thorpe, F. N., ed. Benjamin Franklin and the University of
Pennsylvania. U. S. Bureau of Education, Circular of Information,
No. 2 (1892). Washington: 1893. (See especially
chapters I, II, written by Thorpe, which deal particularly
with Franklin's ideas of self and formal education.)
Titus, Rev. Anson. "Boston When Ben Franklin Was a Boy,"
Proceedings of the Bostonian Society, pp. 55-72 (1906). (Brief
suggestive view of the climate of opinion with regard to inoculation,
Newtonianism, and Lockian sensationalism.)
Trent, W. P. "Benjamin Franklin," McClure's Magazine, VIII,
273-7 (Jan., 1897). ("The most complete representative of
his century that any nation can point to." Franklin "thoroughly
represents his age in its practicality, in its devotion to
science, in its intellectual curiosity, in its humanitarianism, in
its lack of spirituality, in its calm self-content—in short, in its
exaltation of prose and reason over poetry and faith." An
enthusiastic and wise account.)
Trowbridge, John. "Franklin as a Scientist," Publications of the
Colonial Society of Massachusetts, XVIII (1917). (Excellent
appreciation of Franklin's capacity for inductive reasoning.)
Tuckerman, H. T. "Character of Franklin," North American
Review, LXXXIII, 402-22 (Oct., 1856). (Praises disinterestedness
of Franklin as a scientist, as "one whom Bacon
would have hailed as a disciple," although he "is not adapted
to beguile us 'along the line of infinite desires.'")
Tudury, M. "Poor Richard," Bookman, LXIV, 581-4 (Jan.,
1927). (Popular glance at "cynical patriarch of American
letters.")
Typothetae Bulletin, XXII, No. 15 (Jan. 11, 1926). (Issue devoted
to the printer Franklin.)
Vicq d'Azyr, Félix. Éloge de Franklin. N.p.: 1791.
[clxxiii]
Victory, Beatrice M. Benjamin Franklin and Germany. Americana
Germanica series, No. 21. Press of the University of
Pennsylvania: 1915. (Sources reflecting Franklin's reputation
in Germany of particular interest.)
Walsh, C. M. "Franklin and Plato," Open Court, XX, 129-33
(March, 1906). (An attempt to interpret his Articles of Belief,
1728, in terms of the Timaeus, Protagoras, Republic, and
Euthyphro.)
Webster, Noah. Dissertations on the English Language: With
Notes, Historical and Critical. To which is added, By Way of
Appendix, an Essay on a Reformed Mode of Spelling, with Dr.
Franklins Arguments on that Subject. Boston: 1789. (Notable
remarks on Franklin's perspicuous and correct style
which is "plain and elegantly neat": he "writes for the child
as well as the philosopher.")
Wendell, Barrett. A Literary History of America. New York:
1900. (Franklin estimate, pp. 92-103.)
Wetzel, W. A. Benjamin Franklin as an Economist. Johns
Hopkins University Studies in Historical and Political Science,
Thirteenth Series, IX, 421-76. Baltimore: 1895. (Useful summary,
but superseded by Carey's Franklin's Economic Views.)
Wharton, A. H. "The American Philosophical Society,"
Atlantic Monthly, LXI, 611-24 (May, 1888).
Bibliographical suggestions relating to Franklin's American
friends and contemporaries will be found following the brief but
scholarly studies in the Dictionary of American Biography. Of
these see especially John Adams (also G. Chinard, Honest John
Adams, Boston, 1933); Samuel Adams; Ethan Allen; Nathaniel
Ames; Joel Barlow (also V. C. Miller, Joel Barlow: Revolutionist,
London, 1791-92, Hamburg, 1932, and T. A. Zunder, Early Days
of Joel Barlow, New Haven, 1934); John Bartram; William Bartram
(also N. Fagin, William Bartram, Baltimore, 1933); Hugh H.
Brackenridge (also C. Newlin, Brackenridge, Princeton, 1933);
Cadwallader Colden; John Dickinson; Philip Freneau; Francis
Hopkinson; T. Jefferson; Cotton Mather; Jonathan Mayhew;
Thomas Paine; David Rittenhouse; Dr. Benjamin Rush (also
N. Goodman, Rush, Philadelphia, 1934); Rev. William Smith;
Ezra Stiles; John Trumbull; Noah Webster.
[clxxiv]
V. THE AGE OF FRANKLIN
Adams, J. T. Provincial Society, 1690-1763. (Volume III of
A History of American Life, ed. Fox and Schlesinger.) New
York: 1927. (Contains useful "Critical Essay on Authorities"
consulted, pp. 324-56, which serves as a guide for further
study of many phases of the social history of the period.)
Adams, R. G. Political Ideas of the American Revolution.
Durham, N. C.: 1922.
Andrews, C. M. The Colonial Background of the American
Revolution. New Haven: 1924. (Stresses economic factors
and the need of viewing the subject from the European angle;
profitably used as companion study to Beer's British Colonial
Policy.)
Baldwin, Alice M. The New England Clergy and the American
Revolution. Durham, N. C.: 1928. (Prior to 1763 the clergy
popularized "doctrines of natural right, the social contract,
and the right of resistance" and principles of American
constitutional law.)
Beard, C. A. The Economic Origins of Jeffersonian Democracy.
New York: 1915. (Suggestive, if other factors are not
neglected. See C. H. Hull's review in American Historical
Review, XXII, 401-3.)
Becker, Carl. The Declaration of Independence; A Study in the
History of Political Ideas. New York: 1922. (Excellent
survey of natural rights, and the extent to which this concept
was influenced by Newtonianism.)
Becker, Carl. The Heavenly City of the Eighteenth-Century
Philosophers. New Haven: 1932. (R. S. Crane observes,
after calling attention to certain obscurities and confusions:
"The description of the general temper of the 'philosophers,'
the characterization of the principal eighteenth-century
historians, much at least of the final chapter on the idea of
progress—these can be read with general approval for their
content and with a satisfaction in Becker's prose style that is
unalloyed by considerations of exegesis or terminology"
[Philological Quarterly, XIII, 104-6].)
[clxxv]
Beer, George L. British Colonial Policy, 1754-1765. New
York: 1933 [1907].
Bemis, S. F. The Diplomacy of the American Revolution. New
York; 1935. (Brilliant exposition of French, Spanish, Austrian,
and other diplomacy relative to the Revolution.
Should be supplemented by Frank Monaghan's John Jay.)
Bloch, Léon. La philosophie de Newton. Paris: 1908. (A
comprehensive, standard exposition.)
Bosker, Aisso. Literary Criticism in the Age of Johnson.
Groningen: 1930. (Reviewed by N. Foerster in Philological
Quarterly, XI, 216-7.)
Brasch, F. E. "The Royal Society of London and Its Influence
upon Scientific Thought in the American Colonies," Scientific
Monthly, XXXIII, 336-55, 448-69 (1931). (Useful survey.)
Brinton, Crane. A Decade of Revolutions, 1789-1799. New
York: 1934. (Useful on the pattern of ideas associated with
the French Revolution; has a full and up-to-date "Bibliographical
Essay," pp. 293-322, with critical commentary.)
Bullock, C. J. Essays on the Monetary History of the United
States. New York: 1900. (Useful bibliography, pp. 275-88.)
Burnett, E. C., ed. Letters of Members of the Continental
Congress. Washington, D. C.: 1921. (Seven volumes now
published include letters to 1784. Contain a mass of new
material of first importance, edited with notes, cross-references,
and introductions.)
Burtt, E. A. The Metaphysical Foundations of Modern Physical
Science; A Historical and Critical Essay. New York:
1925.
Bury, J. B. The Idea of Progress. New York: 1932 (new
edition). (Standard English work on the topic. See also
Jules Delvaille, Essai sur l'histoire de l'idée de progrès [Paris,
1910], a more encyclopedic book.)
Channing, Edward. A History of the United States. New
York: 1912. (Volumes II-III.)
[clxxvi]
Clark, H. H. "Factors to be Investigated in American Literary
History from 1787 to 1800," English Journal, XXIII, 481-7
(June, 1934). (Suggests the genetic interrelations of
classical ideas; neoclassicism; the scientific spirit, rationalism,
and deism; primitivism and the idea of progress; physical
America and the frontier spirit; agrarianism and laissez faire;
Federalism versus Democracy, whether Jeffersonian or
French; sentimentalism and humanitarianism; Gothicism; and
conflicting currents of aesthetic theory.)
Clark, H. H., ed. Poems of Freneau. New York: 1929. (F.
L. Pattee says of the Introduction, "No one has ever traced
out better the ramifications of French Revolution deism in
America and the effects of its clash with Puritanism" [American
Literature, II, 316-7]. Also see Clark's "Thomas
Paine's Theories of Rhetoric," Transactions of the Wisconsin
Academy of Sciences, Arts and Letters, XXVIII, 307-39
[1933], which discusses relationships between deism and
literary theory.)
Clark, J. M., Viner, J., and others. Adam Smith, 1776-1926.
Chicago: 1928. (Brilliant essays on various aspects of
Smith's thought and influence. See especially Jacob Viner's
"Adam Smith and Laissez-Faire," pp. 116-55, which shows
the relations in Smith's mind between economics and
religion, between laissez faire and "the harmonious order of
nature" posited by the scientific deists.)
Crane, R. S. "Anglican Apologetics and the Idea of Progress,
1699-1745," Modern Philology, XXXI, 273-306 (Feb.,
1934), 349-82 (May, 1934). (Demonstrates in masterly
fashion how the idea of progress grew out of orthodox
defenses of revealed religion, current in Franklin's formative
years. Modifies the conventional view that the Church was
hostile to the idea of progress and that it derived exclusively
from the scientific spirit.)
Davidson, P. G., Jr. "Whig Propagandists of the American
Revolution," American Historical Review, XXXIX, 442-53
(April, 1934). (Also see Revolutionary Propaganda in New
England, New York, and Pennsylvania, 1763-1776. Unpublished
dissertation, University of Chicago, 1929.)
"Deism," in The New Schaff-Herzog Encyclopedia of Religious
Knowledge, III, 391-7 (by Ernst Troeltsch).
[clxxvii]
De la Fontainerie, F., tr. and ed. French Liberalism and
Education in the Eighteenth Century: The Writings of La
Chalotais, Turgot, Diderot, and Condorcet on National Education.
New York: 1932. (Convenient source book.)
Dewey, D. R. Financial History of the United States. New
York: 1924 (9th ed.). (Bristles with bibliographical aids for
study of eighteenth century.)
Draper, J. W. Eighteenth Century English Aesthetics: A
Bibliography. Heidelberg: 1931. (Source materials, pp.
61-128, for aesthetics of literature and drama: includes in
appendix, pp. 129-40, ablest secondary works to 1931.
An invaluable guide. See additions by R. S. Crane, Modern
Philology, XXIX, 251 ff. [1931], W. D. Templeman, ibid.,
XXX, 309-16, R. D. Havens, Modern Language Notes,
XLVII, 118-20 [1932].)
Drennon, Herbert. "Newtonianism: Its Method, Theology,
and Metaphysics," Englische Studien, LXVIII, 397-409
(1933-1934). (Other parts of Mr. Drennon's brilliant
doctoral dissertation, James Thomson and Newtonianism
[University of Chicago, 1928], have been published in
Publications of the Modern Language Association, XLIX, 71-80,
March, 1934; in Studies in Philology, XXXI, 453-71, July,
1934; and in Philological Quarterly, XIV, 70-82, Jan., 1935.)
Ducros, Louis. French Society in the Eighteenth Century. Tr.
from the French by W. de Geijer; with a Foreword by J. A.
Higgs-Walker. London: 1927.
Duncan, C. S. The New Science and English Literature in the
Classical Period. Menasha, Wis.: 1913. (Scholarly.)
Dunning, W. A. A History of Political Theories from Luther
to Montesquieu. New York: 1905, and A History of Political
Theories from Rousseau to Spencer. New York: 1920.
(Standard works.)
Elton, Oliver. The Augustan Age. New York: 1899, and A Survey
of English Literature, 1730-1780. 2 vols. London: 1928.
(Acute on literary trends, though hardly adequate on ideas.)
Evans, Charles. American Bibliography. Chicago: 1903-1934.
(Volumes I-XII, 1639-1799.)
[clxxviii]
Faÿ, Bernard. Revolution and Freemasonry, 1680-1800. Boston:
1935. (Stimulating conjectures vitiated by extravagant
and undocumented conclusions.)
Faÿ, Bernard. The Revolutionary Spirit in France and America.
Tr. by R. Guthrie. New York: 1927. (Especially valuable
for notes on the vogue of Franklin in France. Highly
important comprehensive survey of French influence in
America, and the impetus our revolution gave to French
liberalism.)
Fisher, S. G. The Quaker Colonies. A Chronicle of the Proprietors
of the Delaware. New Haven: 1921. (Useful bibliography,
pp. 231-4.)
Fiske, John. The Beginnings of New England, or the Puritan
Theocracy in Its Relations to Civil and Religious Liberty.
Boston: 1896 [1889]. (See also Perry Miller's Orthodoxy in
Massachusetts, 1630-1650. A Genetic Study. Cambridge,
Mass.: 1933.)
Gettell, R. G. History of American Political Thought. New
York: 1928. (The standard comprehensive treatment of its
subject. Has good bibliographies.)
Gide, Charles, and Rist, Charles. A History of Economic
Doctrines from the Time of the Physiocrats to the Present
Day. Authorized translation from the second revised and
augmented edition of 1913 under the direction of the late
Professor Wm. Smart, by R. Richards. Boston: 1915.
(Excellent survey of physiocracy.)
Gierke, Otto. Natural Law and the Theory of Society, 1500 to
1800. With a Lecture on The Ideas of Natural Law and
Humanity, by Ernst Troeltsch. Tr. with an introduction
by E. Barker. 2 vols. Cambridge, England: 1934.
(A standard work, with excellent notes, especially valuable
on European backgrounds.)
Gohdes, Clarence. "Ethan Allen and his Magnum Opus,"
Open Court, XLIII, 128-51 (March, 1929). (Suggests the
eighteenth-century battle between revelation and reason, the
latter as buttressed by Lockian sensationalism and Newtonian
science.)
[clxxix]
Greene, E. B. The Provincial Governor in the English Colonies
of North America. Cambridge, Mass.: 1898. (Inveterate
divergence between provincial governor and provincial
assemblies foreshadowed the American Revolution.)
Halévy, E. The Growth of Philosophic Radicalism. Tr. by
M. Morris, with a preface by A. D. Lindsay. London:
1928. (A comprehensive, authoritative work.)
Hansen, A. O. Liberalism and American Education in the
Eighteenth Century. With an introduction by E. H. Reisner.
New York: 1926. (A good bibliography of primary sources
and a poor bibliography of secondary sources, pp. 265-96.
Although this slights Franklin and deals especially with plans
following Franklin's death, it surveys educational ideals
with reference to the ideas of the Enlightenment, ideas latent
in Franklin's writings.)
Haroutunian, Joseph. Piety versus Moralism, the Passing of
the New England Theology. New York: 1932. (An important
scholarly work arguing reluctantly that Puritanism
declined because it was theocentric and inadequate to the
social needs of the time. Has an excellent bibliography.)
Hefelbower, S. G. The Relation of John Locke to English
Deism. Chicago: 1918. (The relation between Locke and
the English deists is "not causal, nor do they mark different
stages of the same movement"; they are "related as coordinate
parts of the larger progressive movement of the age."
Stresses Locke's tolerance, rationalism, and natural religion.)
Higgs, Henry. The Physiocrats. Six Lectures on the French
Économistes of the Eighteenth Century. London: 1897.
(Gide and Rist term this a "succinct account" of the physiocratic
system.)
Hildeburn, C. R. Issues of the Pennsylvania Press. A Century
of Printing, 1685-1784. 2 vols. Philadelphia: 1885-1886.
(A highly useful guide to what was being read in Pennsylvania
year by year.)
Horton, W. M. Theism and the Scientific Spirit. New York:
1933. (Popular accounts of "Copernican world" and "God
in the Newtonian world" in chapters I-II.)
[clxxx]
Humphrey, Edward. Nationalism and Religion in America,
1774-1789. Boston: 1924.
Jameson, J. F. The American Revolution Considered as a Social
Movement. Princeton, N. J.: 1926. (Brief and general, but
suggestive.)
Jones, H. M. America and French Culture, 1750-1848. Chapel
Hill, N. C.: 1927. (A monumental, elaborately documented
comprehensive work, containing an excellent bibliography.)
Jones, H. M. "American Prose Style: 1700-1770," Huntington
Library Bulletin, No. 6, 115-51 (Nov., 1934). (Shows that
Puritan preachings inculcated the ideal of a simple, lucid, and
dignified style.)
Kaye, F. B., ed. The Fable of the Bees: or, Private Vices,
Publick Benefits. With a Commentary Critical, Historical, and
Explanatory. 2 vols. Oxford: 1924. (The introduction is
the most lucid and penetrating commentary on Mandeville
in relation to the pattern of ideas of his age. See L. I. Bredvold's
review in Journal of English and Germanic Philology,
XXIV, 586-9, Oct., 1925.)
Koch, G. A. Republican Religion: The American Revolution
and the Cult of Reason. New York: 1933. ("A vast body of
facts about a host of obscure figures"—reviewed by H. H.
Clark in Journal of Philosophy, XXXI, 135-8. Contains an
elaborate bibliography.)
Kraus, M. Intercolonial Aspects of American Culture on the Eve
of the Revolution. New York: 1928. (Scholarly.)
Lecky, W. E. H. A History of England in the Eighteenth Century.
7 vols. New York: 1892-1893 (new ed.). (A standard
work, containing a finely documented treatment of the
political aspects of the American Revolution.)
Leonard, S. A. The Doctrine of Correctness in English Usage,
1700-1800. Madison, Wis.: 1929. (Authoritative.)
Lévy-Bruhl, Lucien. History of Modern Philosophy in France.
Chicago: 1899.
[clxxxi]
Lincoln, C. H. The Revolutionary Movement in Pennsylvania,
1760-1776. Philadelphia: 1901. (A highly important study
showing that local sectional strife which would have eventually
led to conflict synchronized with the strife between the
colony and England.)
Lovejoy, A. O. "The Parallel of Deism and Classicism,"
Modern Philology, XXIX, 281-99 (Feb., 1932). ("A systematic
statement of the rationalistic preconceptions which,
when applied in matters of religion terminated in Deism,
when applied in aesthetics produced Classicism. An illuminating
synthesis, done throughout with characteristic finesse
and discrimination" [Philological Quarterly, XII, 106,
April, 1933].)
McIlwain, C. H. The American Revolution: A Constitutional
Interpretation. New York: 1923. (Offers defense of revolution
on English constitutional grounds.)
Martin, Kingsley. French Liberal Thought in the Eighteenth
Century: A Study of Political Ideas from Bayle to Condorcet.
Boston: 1929. (Stimulating survey of ideology motivating
the French revolution, "a dramatic moment when feudalism,
clericalism and divine monarchy collapsed.")
Merriam, C. E. A History of American Political Theories. New
York: 1924 [1903]. (Authoritative, brief treatment.)
Monaghan, Frank. John Jay, Defender of Liberty. New York:
1935. (A brilliant biography and a fully documented study
of the activities and diplomacy of the Continental Congress.
Supplements S. F. Bemis; see above.)
Moore, C. A. "Shaftesbury and the Ethical Poets in England,
1700-1760," Publications of the Modern Language Association,
XXXI (N. S. XXIV), 264-325 (June, 1916). (Penetrating
and brilliant survey of the growth of altruism, to be
supplemented by R. S. Crane's studies of earlier sources.)
Morais, H. M. Deism in Eighteenth Century America. New
York: 1934. (If little space is given to the implications of
Deism in terms of political, economic, and literary theory,
and if the leaders of deistic thought, such as Franklin,
Jefferson, and Paine are too lightly dealt with, this work is
"substantial, precise, well-documented, modest, cautious,
and objective." Has a good bibliography. Reviewed by
H. H. Clark, American Literature, VI, 467-9, Jan., 1935.
See also Morais's "Deism in Revolutionary America, 1763-89,"
International Journal of Ethics, XLII, 434-53, July, 1932.)
[clxxxii]
Morley, John. Diderot and the Encyclopædists. 2 vols. London:
1923. (A suggestive survey, parts of which have been
superseded by more recent studies.)
Mornet, Daniel. French Thought in the Eighteenth Century. Tr.
by L. M. Levin. New York: 1929. (Lucid and penetrating
survey; suggestive notes on the influence of speculation
motivated by science.)
Mornet, Daniel. Les origines intellectuelles de la Révolution
française (1715-1787). Paris: 1933. (A brilliant work, concluding
that without the extraordinary diffusion of radical
ideas in all classes in France, the States-General in 1789 would
not have adopted revolutionary measures. See C. Brinton's
review, American Historical Review, XXXIX, 726-7, 1934.)
Morse, W. N. "Lectures on Electricity in Colonial Times,"
New England Quarterly, VII, 364-74 (June, 1934). (Presents
fourteen items on the vogue of electrical experiments,
1747-1765.)
Mott, F. L. A History of American Magazines, 1741-1850.
New York: 1930.
Mullett, C. F. Fundamental Law and the American Revolution,
1760-1776. New York: 1933. (A highly important scholarly
study, with excellent bibliography of relevant investigations
of recent date. Supplements B. F. Wright.)
Ornstein, Martha. The Rôle of Scientific Societies in the Seventeenth
Century. New York: 1913. Reprinted, University of
Chicago Press: 1928. (Shows their radical influence. See
suggestive reviews in American Historical Review, XXXIV,
386-7, 1929; and Times Literary Supplement [London], 679,
Sept. 27, 1928.)
Osgood, H. L. The American Colonies in the Eighteenth Century.
4 vols. New York: 1924-1925. (Standard work on political
aspects.)
Perkins, J. B. France in the American Revolution. Boston:
1911. (Includes able survey of Franklin's efforts in behalf of
colonies.)
[clxxxiii]
Richardson, L. N. A History of Early American Magazines,
1741-1789. New York: 1931. (An encyclopedic survey
indispensable to all students of the period. Enormously
documented.)
Robertson, J. M. A Short History of Free Thought, Ancient
and Modern. 2 vols. London: 1915. (Third edition,
revised and expanded. An important survey, if somewhat
militantly partisan.)
Roustan, Marius. The Pioneers of the French Revolution. Tr.
by F. Whyte, with an Introduction by H. J. Laski. Boston:
1926. (Thesis: "The spirit of the philosophes was the spirit
of the Revolution." Highly readable, but inferior to parallel
studies by Martin and Mornet in incisive analysis of patterns
of ideas. Stresses picturesque social aspects.)
Schapiro, J. S. Condorcet and the Rise of Liberalism in France.
New York: 1934. (Condorcet is the "almost perfect expression
of the pioneer liberalism of the period"; he is viewed
as the "last of the encyclopedists and the most universal of
all." A lucid scholarly study, although hardly superseding
Alengry's Condorcet.)
Schlesinger, A. M. "The American Revolution," in New
Viewpoints in American History. New York: 1922, pp.
160-83. (A brief but excellent interpretation, stressing
economic factors, and presenting a useful "Bibliographical
Note," pp. 181-3, including references to studies of political
and religious factors. See also studies of the latter by R. G.
Adams, Alice Baldwin, Carl Becker, B. F. Wright, C. F.
Mullett, C. H. Van Tyne, and Edward Humphrey.)
Schneider, H. W. The Puritan Mind. New York: 1930. (An
acute scholarly study, with excellent bibliography. The
stress on ideas supplements and balances Parrington's tendency
to dismiss ideas as by-products of economic factors.)
Smith, T. V. The American Philosophy of Equality. Chicago:
1927. (Chapter I includes discussion of "natural rights,"
with recognition of the influence of European theorists.)
[clxxxiv]
Smyth, A. H. The Philadelphia Magazines and Their Contributors,
1741-1850. Philadelphia: 1892. (Brief descriptive
account, mostly superseded by the relevant sections in F. L.
Mott's and L. N. Richardson's histories.)
Stephen, Leslie. A History of English Thought in the Eighteenth
Century. 2 vols. London: 1902 (3rd ed.). (As J. L. Laski
observes, it is "almost insolent to praise such work." In certain
aspects, however, it has been superseded by studies by
such men as R. S. Crane, A. O. Lovejoy, H. M. Jones, etc.)
Stimson, Dorothy. The Gradual Acceptance of the Copernican
Theory of the Universe. Hanover, N. H.: 1917.
Taylor, O. H. "Economics and the Idea of Natural Law,"
Quarterly Journal of Economics, XLIV, 1-39 (Nov., 1929).
("The evolution of the idea of 'law' in economics" paralleling
"its evolution in the natural sciences" led to belief in an economic
mechanism which "was regarded as a wise device of the
Creator for causing individuals, while pursuing only their
own interests, to promote the prosperity of society, and for
causing the right adjustment to one another of supplies,
demands, prices, and incomes, to take place automatically,
in consequence of the free action of all individuals." The
author suggests that there is evident an incongruous dichotomy
between the mechanistic idea of the physiocrats and their
assumption that enlightened men "would be able to use
government as a scientific tool for carrying out purely
rationalistic measures in the common interest." See also
outline of his doctoral thesis on this subject. Harvard University
Summaries of Theses [1928], 102-6. An authoritative
study of an important subject.)
Torrey, N. L. Voltaire and the English Deists. New Haven:
1930. (Shows Voltaire's great indebtedness to Newtonianism,
which he popularized in France, and to earlier deists than
Bolingbroke. Authoritative.)
Turberville, A. S., ed. Johnson's England. An Account of the
Life and Manners of His Age. 2 vols. Oxford University
Press: 1933. (Although this collaborative work neglects
political, religious, economic, and aesthetic ideas, it embodies
readable and authoritative surveys of external aspects of
social history, viewed from many angles. Contains useful
bibliographies. See review by H. H. Clark, American
Review, II, No. 4 [Feb., 1934].)
[clxxxv]
Tyler, M. C. A History of American Literature, 1607-1765 (2
vols. New York: 1878), and The Literary History of the
American Revolution (2 vols. New York: 1897). (Somewhat
grandiloquent but very full survey, including Loyalists.
Excellent on literary aspects but partly superseded on ideas.
Contains excellent bibliography of primary sources.)
Van Tyne, C. H. The Causes of the War of Independence.
Boston: 1922. (Brilliant both in interpretation and style,
and well balanced in considering economic, political, social,
religious, and philosophic factors.)
Veitch, G. S. The Genesis of Parliamentary Reform. London:
1913. (Useful for English backgrounds.)
Weld, C. R. A History of the Royal Society with Memoirs of
the Presidents. 2 vols. London: 1848.
Wendell, Barrett. Cotton Mather, the Puritan Priest. Cambridge,
Mass.: 1926 [1891]. (A sympathetic study of one of
Franklin's masters, based on a deep knowledge of the
Puritan spirit.)
Weulersse, Georges. Le mouvement physiocratique en France
(de 1756 à 1770). 2 vols. Paris: 1910. (The standard
treatment.)
White, A. D. A History of the Warfare of Science with Theology
in Christendom. 2 vols. New York: 1897. (Prominent
attention given to colonial eighteenth century.)
Whitney, Lois. Primitivism and the Idea of Progress in English
Popular Literature of the Eighteenth Century. Baltimore:
1934. (An acute study of the history of an important idea,
especially as embodied in novels. Occasionally misleading
because Miss Whitney does not always pay necessary attention
to the major individuals' change of attitude, to their
genetic development. Contains no bibliography. See Bury,
above.)
Williams, David. "The Influence of Rousseau on Political
Opinion, 1760-1795," English Historical Review, XLVIII,
414-30 (1933).
[clxxxvi]
Winsor, Justin, ed. Narrative and Critical History of America.
8 vols. Boston: [1884-] 1889. (Especially valuable for
bibliographical notes.)
Wright, B. F. American Interpretations of Natural Law. A
Study in the History of Political Thought. Cambridge, Mass.:
1931. (An able outline of main trends, although it neglects
evidence both in eighteenth-century sermons and in legal
papers of colonial attorneys. Shows strong influence of
Grotius, Puffendorf, and Locke on Revolutionary theories.
Should be supplemented by C. F. Mullett's parallel book.
Reviewed by R. B. Morris, American Historical Review,
XXXVII, 561-2, April, 1932.)
Wright, T. G. Literary Culture in Early New England, 1620-1730.
New Haven: 1920. (Valuable for its check lists of
colonial libraries, suggesting books current in Franklin's
formative years. The best treatment of its subject although
it neglects the literary and aesthetic theories of the period.
To be supplemented by books by C. F. Richardson, W. F.
Mitchell, and E. C. Cook.)
Further background studies may be found in The Cambridge
History of English Literature, Cambridge and New York,
1912-1914, VIII-XI, and The Cambridge History of American
Literature, New York, 1917, Vol. I. See also the more up-to-date
bibliographies in P. Smith's A History of Modern Culture,
New York, 1934, II, 647-76; R. S. Crane's A Collection of
English Poems, 1660-1800, New York, 1932, pp. 1115-42; and
especially O. Shepard and P. S. Wood, English Prose and
Poetry, 1660-1800, Boston, 1934, pp. xxxiii-xxxviii and pp. 937-1067.
For bibliographical guides, see note following, p. clxxxviii.
VI. BIBLIOGRAPHIES AND CHECK LISTS
Boggess, A. C., and Witmer, E. R. Calendar of the Papers of
Benjamin Franklin in the Library of the University of Pennsylvania.
(Being the Appendix to the Calendar of the
Papers of Benjamin Franklin in the Library of the American
Philosophical Society, edited by I. M. Hays.) Philadelphia:
1908. (This valuable work lists letters to Franklin, letters
from Franklin, and miscellaneous letters, with brief notes on
the topics discussed in each letter and place of publication in
cases where the letters have been published.)
[clxxxvii]
Books Printed by Benjamin Franklin. Born Jan. 17, 1706. New
York: 1906. (Lists best known imprints; useful although
eclipsed by Campbell.)
*The Cambridge History of American Literature. New York:
1917. I, 442-52. (Lists of "Collected Works," "Separate
Works," and "Contributions to Periodicals" constitute a
convenient abridgment of Ford, but the list, "Biographical
and Critical," limited to two pages, is at best inadequately
suggestive.)
Campbell, W. J. The Collection of Franklin Imprints in the
Museum of the Curtis Publishing Company. With a Short-Title
Check List of All the Books, Pamphlets, Broadsides, &c.,
known to have been printed by Benjamin Franklin. Philadelphia:
1918.
Campbell, W. J. A Short-Title Check List of All the Books,
Pamphlets, Broadsides, &c., known to have been printed by
Benjamin Franklin. Philadelphia: 1918.
*Faÿ, B. Benjamin Franklin bibliographie et étude sur les sources
historiques relatives à sa vie (Vol. III of Benjamin Franklin,
bourgeois d'Amérique et citoyen du monde.) Paris: 1931.
(Faÿ, in Franklin, the Apostle of Modern Times, pp. 517-33,
has furnished "only a summary bibliography," which, in spite
of its occasional inaccuracies and infelicities in form, contains
many useful items, American, English, and French; especially
valuable for notes on several manuscript collections. In
this French edition the bibliography is more detailed.)
*Ford, P. L. Franklin Bibliography. A List of Books Written
by, or Relating to Benjamin Franklin. Brooklyn, N. Y.:
1889. (The standard, time-honored work, unfortunately not
superseded.)
Ford, W. C. List of the Benjamin Franklin Papers in the Library
of Congress. Washington, D. C.: 1905.
[clxxxviii]
Hays, I. M. Calendar of the Papers of Benjamin Franklin in the
Library of the American Philosophical Society. Vols. II-VI in
The Record of the Celebration of the Two Hundredth Anniversary
of the Birth of Benjamin Franklin, under the Auspices of
the American Philosophical Society Held at Philadelphia for
Promoting Useful Knowledge, April 17 to 20, 1906. Philadelphia:
1908. (A. H. Smyth purports to have printed in
his ten-volume edition all of Franklin's letters in this collection.
Valuable especially for letters addressed to Franklin.)
"List of Works in the New York Public Library by or Relating
to Benjamin Franklin," Bulletin of New York Public Library,
X, No. 1. New York: 1906, pp. 29-83.
Rosengarten, J. G. "Some New Franklin Papers," University
of Pennsylvania Alumni Register, 1-7 (July, 1903). (A report
to the Board of Trustees saying "there are over five hundred
pieces of MS among the collection of Franklin papers
recently added to the Library of the University." These
range from 1731 to Franklin's latest correspondence. Only
a few of these pieces are described.)
Stevens, Henry. Benjamin Franklin's Life and Writings. A
Bibliographical Essay on the Stevens Collection of Books and
Manuscripts Relating to Doctor Franklin. London: 1881.
(Pp. 21-40 contain a list of "Franklin's Printed Works.")
Swift, Lindsay. "Catalogue of Works Relating to Benjamin
Franklin in the Boston Public Library," Bulletin of the
Boston Public Library, V, 217-31, 276-84, 420-33. Boston:
1883. (Including Dr. S. A. Green's collection, this was the
"immediate predecessor" to Ford.)
For current articles the student should consult especially the
bibliographies in Philological Quarterly, American Literature,
Publications of the Modern Language Association, bibliographical
bulletins of the Modern Humanities Research Association, and
Grace G. Griffin's annual bibliography, Writings on American
History.
[1]
*
Selections from
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
*
[2]
[3]
NOTE: Superior figures through the text refer to notes in pp. 529 ff.
From the AUTOBIOGRAPHY[1]
Twyford, at the Bishop of St. Asaph's, 1771.
Dear Son, I have ever had a Pleasure in obtaining any little
Anecdotes of my Ancestors. You may remember the Enquiries
I made among the Remains of my Relations when you were
with me in England; and the journey I undertook for that purpose.
Now imagining it may be equally agreable to you to know
the Circumstances of my Life, many of which you are yet unacquainted
with; and expecting a Weeks uninterrupted Leisure
in my present Country Retirement, I sit down to write them for
you. To which I have besides some other Inducements. Having
emerg'd from the Poverty and Obscurity in which I was
born and bred, to a State of Affluence and some Degree of Reputation
in the World, and having gone so far thro' Life with a
considerable Share of Felicity, the conducing Means I made use
of, which, with the Blessing of God, so well succeeded, my Posterity
may like to know, as they may find some of them suitable
to their own Situations, and therefore fit to be imitated. That
Felicity, when I reflected on it, has induc'd me sometimes to
say, that were it offer'd to my Choice, I should have no Objection
to a Repetition of the same Life from its Beginning, only
asking the Advantages Authors have in a second Edition to correct
some Faults of the first. So would I if I might, besides corr[ecting]
the Faults, change some sinister Accidents and Events
of it for others more favourable, but tho' this were deny'd, I
should still accept the Offer. However, since such a Repetition
is not to be expected, the next Thing most like living one's Life
over again, seems to be a Recollection of that Life; and to make
that Recollection as durable as possible, the putting it down in
Writing. Hereby, too, I shall indulge the Inclination so natural
in old Men, to be talking of themselves and their own past
Actions, and I shall indulge it, without being troublesome to
others who thro' respect to Age might think themselves oblig'd[4]
to give me a Hearing, since this may be read or not as any one
pleases. And lastly (I may as well confess it, since my Denial of
it will be believ'd by no Body) perhaps I shall a good deal gratify
my own Vanity. Indeed I scarce ever heard or saw the introductory
Words, Without vanity I may say, &c. but some vain
thing immediately follow'd. Most People dislike Vanity in
others whatever share they have of it themselves, but I give it
fair Quarter wherever I meet with it, being persuaded that it is
often productive of Good to the Possessor and to others that
are within his Sphere of Action: And therefore in many Cases it
would not be quite absurd if a Man were to thank God for his
Vanity among the other Comforts of Life.—
And now I speak of thanking God, I desire with all Humility
to acknowledge, that I owe the mention'd Happiness of my past
Life to his kind Providence, which led me to the Means I us'd
and gave them Success. My Belief of this, induces me to hope,
tho' I must not presume, that the same Goodness will still be exercis'd
towards me in continuing that Happiness, or in enabling
me to bear a fatal Reverse, which I may experience as others
have done, the Complexion of my future Fortune being known to
him only: in whose Power it is to bless to us even our Afflictions.
The Notes one of my Uncles (who had the same kind of
Curiosity in collecting Family Anecdotes) once put into my
Hands, furnish'd me with several Particulars relating to our Ancestors.
From these Notes I learnt that the Family had liv'd in
the same Village, Ecton in Northamptonshire, for 300 Years,
and how much longer he knew not (perhaps from the Time
when the Name Franklin that before was the name of an Order
of People, was assum'd by them for a Surname, when others
took surnames all over the kingdom)[,] on a Freehold of about
30 Acres, aided by the Smith's Business, which had continued
in the Family till his Time, the eldest son being always bred to
that Business[.] A Custom which he and my Father both followed
as to their eldest Sons.—When I search'd the Register at
Ecton, I found an Account of their Births, Marriages and
Burials, from the Year 1555 only, there being no Register kept
in that Parish at any time preceding.—By that Register I perceiv'd[5]
that I was the youngest Son of the youngest Son for 5
Generations back. My Grandfather Thomas, who was born in
1598, lived at Ecton till he grew too old to follow Business
longer, when he went to live with his Son John, a Dyer at Banbury
in Oxfordshire, with whom my Father serv'd an Apprenticeship.
There my Grandfather died and lies buried. We saw
his Gravestone in 1758. His eldest Son Thomas liv'd in the
House at Ecton, and left it with the Land to his only Child, a
Daughter, who, with her Husband, one Fisher of Wellingborough
sold it to Mr. Isted, now Lord of the Manor there. My
Grandfather had 4 Sons that grew up, viz Thomas, John, Benjamin
and Josiah. I will give you what Account I can of them
at this distance from my Papers, and if these are not lost in my
Absence, you will among them find many more Particulars.
Thomas was bred a Smith under his Father, but being ingenious,
and encourag'd in Learning (as all his Brothers likewise were)
by an Esquire Palmer then the principal Gentleman in that Parish,
he qualify'd himself for the Business of Scrivener, became a
considerable Man in the County Affairs, was a chief Mover of all
publick Spirited Undertakings for the County or Town of
Northampton and his own village, of which many instances
were told us; and he was at Ecton much taken Notice of and
patroniz'd by the then Lord Halifax. He died in 1702, Jan. 6,
old Stile, just 4 Years to a Day before I was born. The Account
we receiv'd of his Life and Character from some old People at
Ecton, I remember struck you as something extraordinary, from
its Similarity to what you knew of mine. Had he died on the
same Day, you said one might have suppos'd a Transmigration.—John
was bred a Dyer, I believe of Woollens. Benjamin,
was bred a Silk Dyer, serving an Apprenticeship at London.
He was an ingenious Man, I remember him well, for when I was
a Boy he came over to my Father in Boston, and lived in the
House with us some Years. He lived to a great Age. His
Grandson Samuel Franklin now lives in Boston. He left behind
him two Quarto Volumes, MS of his own Poetry, consisting of
little occasional Pieces address'd to his Friends and Relations,
of which the following sent to me, is a Specimen. [Although[6]
Franklin wrote in the margin "Here insert it," the poetry is not
given.] He had form'd a Shorthand of his own, which he taught
me, but, never practising it I have now forgot it. I was nam'd
after this Uncle, there being a particular Affection between him
and my Father. He was very pious, a great Attender of Sermons
of the best Preachers, which he took down in his Shorthand and
had with him many Volumes of them. He was also much of a
Politician, too much perhaps for his Station. There fell lately
into my Hands in London a Collection he had made of all the
principal Pamphlets relating to Publick Affairs from 1641 to
1717. Many of the Volumes are wanting, as appears by the
Numbering, but there still remains 8 Vols. Folio, and 24 in 4.to
and 8.vo.—A Dealer in old Books met with them, and knowing
me by my sometimes buying of him, he brought them to me.
It seems my Uncle must have left them here when he went to
America, which was above 50 years since. There are many of
his Notes in the Margins.—
This obscure Family of ours was early in the Reformation,
and continu'd Protestants thro' the Reign of Queen Mary, when
they were sometimes in Danger of Trouble on Account of their
Zeal against Popery. They had got an English Bible, and to conceal
and secure it, it was fastened open with Tapes under and
within the Frame of a Joint Stool. When my Great Great Grandfather
read it [it] to his Family, he turn'd up the joint Stool upon
his Knees, turning over the Leaves then under the Tapes. One
of the Children stood at the Door to give Notice if he saw the
Apparitor coming, who was an Officer of the Spiritual Court.
In that Case the Stool was turn'd down again upon its feet,
when the Bible remain'd conceal'd under it as before. This
Anecdote I had from my Uncle Benjamin.—The Family continu'd
all of the Church of England till about the End of Charles
the 2ds Reign, when some of the Ministers that had been outed
for Nonconformity, holding Conventicles in Northamptonshire,
Benjamin and Josiah adher'd to them, and so continu'd all
their Lives. The rest of the Family remain'd with the Episcopal
Church.
Josiah, my father, married young, and carried his Wife with[7]
three Children into New England, about 1682. The Conventicles
having been forbidden by Law, and frequently disturbed,
induced some considerable Men of his Acquaintance to remove
to that Country, and he was prevail'd with to accompany them
thither, where they expected to enjoy their Mode of Religion
with Freedom.—By the same Wife he had 4 Children more
born there, and by a second wife ten more, in all 17, of which I
remember 13 sitting at one time at his Table, who all grew up to
be Men and Women, and married. I was the youngest Son, and
the youngest Child but two, and was born in Boston, N. England.
My mother, the 2d wife was Abiah Folger, a daughter of
Peter Folger, one of the first Settlers of New England, of whom
honourable mention is made by Cotton Mather, in his Church
History of that Country, (entitled Magnalia Christi Americana)
as a godly learned Englishman, if I remember the Words rightly.
I have heard that he wrote sundry small occasional Pieces, but
only one of them was printed which I saw now many years
since. It was written in 1675, in the home-spun Verse of that
Time and People, and address'd to those then concern'd in the
Government there. It was in favour of Liberty of Conscience,
and in behalf of the Baptists, Quakers, and other Sectaries, that
had been under Persecution; ascribing the Indian Wars and
other Distresses, that had befallen the Country to that Persecution,
as so many Judgments of God, to punish so heinous an
Offense; and exhorting a Repeal of those uncharitable Laws.
The whole appear'd to me as written with a good deal of Decent
Plainness and manly Freedom. The six last concluding Lines I
remember, tho' I have forgotten the two first of the Stanza, but
the Purport of them was that his Censures proceeded from
Good will, and therefore he would be known as the Author,
"Because to be a Libeller, (says he)
I hate it with my Heart.
From[A] Sherburne Town where now I dwell,
My Name I do put here,
Without Offense, your real Friend,
It is Peter Folgier."
[8]
My elder Brothers were all put Apprentices to different
Trades. I was put to the Grammar School at Eight Years of
Age, my Father intending to devote me as the Tithe of his Sons
to the Service of the Church. My early Readiness in learning to
read (which must have been very early, as I do not remember
when I could not read) and the Opinion of all his Friends that I
should certainly make a good Scholar, encourag'd him in this
Purpose of his. My Uncle Benjamin too approv'd of it, and
propos'd to give me all his Shorthand Volumes of Sermons I
suppose as a Stock to set up with, if I would learn his Character.
I continu'd however at the Grammar School not quite one Year,
tho' in that time I had risen gradually from the Middle of the
Class of that Year to be the Head of it, and farther was remov'd
into the next Class above it, in order to go with that into the
third at the End of the Year. But my Father in the mean time,
from a View of the Expence of a College Education which, having
so large a Family, he could not well afford, and the mean
Living many so educated were afterwards able to obtain, Reasons
that he gave to his Friends in my Hearing, altered his first
Intention, took me from the Grammar School, and sent me to a
School for Writing and Arithmetic kept by a then famous Man,
Mr. Geo. Brownell, very successful in his Profession generally,
and that by mild encouraging Methods. Under him I acquired
fair Writing pretty soon, but I fail'd in the Arithmetic, and
made no Progress in it.—At Ten Years old, I was taken home to
assist my Father in his Business, which was that of a Tallow
Chandler and Sope Boiler. A Business he was not bred to, but
had assumed on his Arrival in New England and on finding his
Dying Trade would not maintain his Family, being in little Request.
Accordingly I was employed in cutting Wick for the
Candles, filling the Dipping Mold, and the Molds for cast Candles,
attending the Shop, going of Errands, etc.—I dislik'd the
Trade and had a strong Inclination for the Sea; but my Father
declar'd against it; however, living near the Water, I was much
in and about it, learnt early to swim well, and to manage Boats,
and when in a Boat or Canoe with other Boys I was commonly
allow'd to govern, especially in any case of Difficulty; and upon[9]
other Occasions I was generally a Leader among the Boys, and
sometimes led them into Scrapes, of wch I will mention one
Instance, as it shows an early projecting public Spirit, tho' not
then justly conducted. There was a salt Marsh that bounded
part of the Mill Pond, on the Edge of which at Highwater, we
us'd to stand to fish for Min[n]ows. By much Trampling, we
had made it a mere Quagmire. My Proposal was to build a
Wharff there fit for us to stand upon, and I show'd my Comrades
a large Heap of Stones which were intended for a new
House near the Marsh, and which would very well suit our
Purpose. Accordingly in the Evening when the Workmen were
gone, I assembled a Number of my Playfellows; and working
with them diligently like so many Emmets, sometimes two or
three to a Stone, we brought them all away and built our little
Wharff.—The next Morning the Workmen were surpriz'd at
Missing the Stones; which were found in our Wharff; Enquiry
was made after the Removers; we were discovered and complain'd
of; several of us were corrected by our Fathers; and tho'
I pleaded the Usefulness of the Work, mine convinc'd me that
nothing was useful which was not honest.
I think you may like to know something of his Person and
Character. He had an excellent Constitution of Body, was of
middle Stature, but well set and very strong. He was ingenious,
could draw prettily, was skill'd a little in Music and had a clear
pleasing Voice, so that when he play'd Psalm Tunes on his Violin
and sung withal as he sometimes did in an Evening after the
Business of the Day was over, it was extreamly agreable to hear.
He had a mechanical Genius too, and on occasion was very
handy in the Use of other Tradesmen's Tools. But his great
Excellence lay in a sound Understanding, and solid Judgment in
prudential Matters, both in private and publick Affairs. In the
latter indeed he was never employed, the numerous Family he
had to educate and the straitness of his Circumstances, keeping
him close to his Trade, but I remember well his being frequently
visited by leading People, who consulted him for his Opinion
in Affairs of the Town or of the Church he belong'd to and
show'd a good deal of Respect for his Judgment and advice. He[10]
was also much consulted by private Persons about their affairs
when any Difficulty occurr'd, and frequently chosen an Arbitrator
between contending Parties.—At his Table he lik'd to have
as often as he could, some sensible Friend or Neighbour to converse
with, and always took care to start some ingenious or useful
Topic for Discourse, which might tend to improve the
Minds of his Children. By this means he turn'd our Attention
to what was good, just, and prudent in the Conduct of Life; and
little or no Notice was ever taken of what related to the Victuals
on the Table, whether it was well or ill drest, in or out of season,
of good or bad flavour, preferable or inferior to this or that
other thing of the kind; so that I was bro't up in such a perfect
Inattention to those Matters as to be quite Indifferent what kind
of Food was set before me, and so unobservant of it, that to this
Day, if I am ask'd I can scarce tell a few Hours after Dinner,
what I din'd upon. This has been a Convenience to me in
travelling, where my Companions have been sometimes very
unhappy for want of a suitable Gratification of their more delicate[,]
because better instructed[,] tastes and appetites.
My Mother had likewise an excellent Constitution. She
suckled all her 10 Children. I never knew either my Father or
Mother to have any Sickness but that of which they dy'd he at
89, and she at 85 years of age. They lie buried together at Boston,
where I some years since placed a Marble Stone over their
Grave with this Inscription:
Josiah Franklin
And Abiah his Wife
Lie here interred.
They lived lovingly together in Wedlock
Fifty-five Years.
Without an Estate or any gainful Employment,
By constant labour and Industry,
With God's blessing,
They maintained a large Family
Comfortably;
And brought up thirteen Children,
And seven Grandchildren
Reputably.
[11]
From this Instance, Reader,
Be encouraged to Diligence in thy Calling,
And Distrust not Providence.
He was a pious and prudent Man,
She a discreet and virtuous Woman.
Their youngest Son,
In filial Regard to their Memory,
Places this Stone.
J. F. born 1655—Died 1744—Ætat 89.
A. F. born 1667—Died 1752——85.
By my rambling Digressions I perceive myself to be grown
old. I us'd to write more methodically.—But one does not
dress for private Company as for a publick Ball. 'Tis perhaps
only Negligence.—
To return. I continu'd thus employ'd in my Father's Business
for two Years, that is till I was 12 Years old; and my
Brother John, who was bred to that Business having left my
Father, married and set up for himself at Rhodeisland, there was
all Appearance that I was destin'd to supply his Place and be a
Tallow Chandler. But my Dislike to the Trade continuing, my
Father was under Apprehensions that if he did not find one for
me more agreable, I should break away and get to Sea, as his
Son Josiah had done to his great Vexation. He therefore sometimes
took me to walk with him, and see Joiners, Bricklayers,
Turners, Braziers, etc. at their Work, that he might observe my
Inclination, and endeavour to fix it on some Trade or other on
Land. It has ever since been a Pleasure to me to see good
Workmen handle their Tools; and it has been useful to me, having
learnt so much by it, as to be able to do little Jobs myself in
my House, when a Workman could not readily be got; and to
construct little Machines for my Experiments while the Intention
of making the Experiment was fresh and warm in my Mind. My
Father at last fix'd upon the Cutler's Trade, and my Uncle
Benjamin's Son Samuel who was bred to that Business in London[,]
being about that time establish'd in Boston, I was sent to
be with him some time on liking. But his Expectations of a Fee
with me displeasing my Father, I was taken home again.[12]—
From a Child I was fond of Reading, and all the little Money
that came into my Hands was ever laid out in Books. Pleas'd
with the Pilgrim's Progress, my first Collection was of John
Bunyan's Works, in separate little Volumes. I afterwards sold
them to enable me to buy R. Burton's Historical Collections;
they were small Chapmen's Books and cheap, 40 or 50 in all.—My
Father's little Library consisted chiefly of Books in polemic
Divinity, most of which I read, and have since often regretted,
that at a time when I had such a Thirst for Knowledge, more
proper Books had not fallen in my Way, since it was now resolv'd
I should not be a Clergyman. Plutarch's Lives there was,
in which I read abundantly, and I still think that time spent to
great ["Great" seems to have been deleted.] Advantage. There
was also a Book of Defoe's, called an Essay on Projects, and
another of Dr. Mather's, called Essays to do Good which perhaps
gave me a Turn of thinking that had an influence on some
of the principal future Events of my Life.
This Bookish inclination at length determin'd my Father to
make me a Printer, tho' he had already one Son (James) of that
Profession. In 1717 my Brother James return'd from England
with a Press and Letters to set up his Business in Boston. I lik'd
it much better than that of my Father, but still had a Hankering
for the Sea.—To prevent the apprehended Effect of such an
Inclination, my Father was impatient to have me bound to my
Brother. I stood out some time, but at last was persuaded and
signed the Indentures, when I was yet but 12 Years old.—I was
to serve as an Apprentice till I was 21 Years of Age, only I was
to be allow'd Journeyman's Wages during the last Year. In a
little time I made great Proficiency in the Business, and became
a useful Hand to my Brother. I now had Access to better Books.
An Acquaintance with the Apprentices of Booksellers, enabled
me sometimes to borrow a small one, which I was careful to return
soon and clean. Often I sat up in my Room reading the
greatest Part of the Night, when the Book was borrow'd in the
Evening and to be return'd early in the Morning[,] lest it should
be miss'd or wanted. And after some time an ingenious Tradesman
Mr. Matthew Adams who had a pretty Collection of[13]
Books, and who frequented our Printing House, took Notice of
me, invited me to his Library, and very kindly lent me such
Books as I chose to read. I now took a Fancy to Poetry, and
made some little Pieces. My Brother, thinking it might turn to
account encourag'd me, and put me on composing two occasional
Ballads. One was called The Lighthouse Tragedy, and
contained an Acct of the drowning of Capt. Worthilake with
his Two Daughters; the other was a Sailor Song on the Taking
of Teach or Blackbeard the Pirate. They were wretched Stuff,
in the Grub-street Ballad Stile, and when they were printed he
sent me about the Town to sell them. The first sold wonderfully,
the Event being recent, having made a great Noise. This
flatter'd my Vanity. But my Father discourag'd me, by ridiculing
my Performances, and telling me Verse-makers were
generally Beggars; so I escap'd being a Poet, most probably a
very bad one. But as Prose Writing has been of great Use to
me in the Course of my Life, and was a principal Means of my
Advancement, I shall tell you how in such a Situation I acquir'd
what little Ability I have in that Way.
There was another Bookish Lad in the Town, John Collins
by Name, with whom I was intimately acquainted. We sometimes
disputed, and very fond we were of Argument, and very
desirous of confuting one another. Which disputacious Turn,
by the way, is apt to become a very bad Habit, making People
often extreamly disagreeable in Company, by the Contradiction
that is necessary to bring it into Practice, and thence, besides
souring and spoiling the Conversation, is productive of Disgusts
and perhaps Enmities where you may have occasion for
Friendship. I had caught it by reading my Father's Books of
Dispute about Religion. Persons of good Sense, I have since observ'd,
seldom fall into it, except Lawyers, University Men, and
Men of all Sorts that have been bred at Edinborough. A Question
was once somehow or other started between Collins and
me, of the Propriety of educating the Female Sex in Learning,
and their Abilities for Study. He was of Opinion that it was
improper, and that they were naturally unequal to it. I took the
contrary Side, perhaps a little for Dispute['s] sake. He was[14]
naturally more eloquent, had a ready Plenty of Words, and
sometimes as I thought bore me down more by his Fluency than
by the Strength of his Reasons. As we parted without settling
the Point, and were not to see one another again for some time,
I sat down to put my Arguments in Writing, which I copied
fair and sent to him. He answer'd and I reply'd. Three of [or] four
Letters of a Side had pass'd, when my Father happen'd to find
my Papers, and read them. Without ent'ring into the Discussion,
he took occasion to talk to me about the Manner of my
Writing, observ'd that tho' I had the Advantage of my Antagonist
in correct Spelling and pointing (which I ow'd to the
Printing House) I fell far short in elegance of Expression, in
Method and in Perspicuity, of which he convinc'd me by several
Instances. I saw the Justice of his Remarks, and thence grew
more attentive to the Manner in writing, and determin'd to endeavour
at Improvement.—
About this time I met with an odd Volume of the Spectator.
It was the Third. I had never before seen any of them. I
bought it, read it over and over, and was much delighted with it.
I thought the Writing excellent, and wish'd if possible to imitate
it. With that View, I took some of the Papers, and making
short Hints of the Sentiment in each Sentence, laid them by a
few Days, and then without looking at the Book, try'd to compleat
the Papers again, by expressing each hinted Sentiment at
length, and as fully as it had been express'd before, in any suitable
Words, that should come to hand.
Then I compar'd my Spectator with the Original, discover'd
some of my Faults and corrected them. But I found I wanted a
Stock of Words or a Readiness in recollecting and using them,
which I thought I should have acquir'd before that time, if I had
gone on making Verses, since the continual Occasion for Words
of the same Import but of different Length, to suit the Measure,
or of different Sound for the Rhyme, would have laid me under
a constant Necessity of searching for Variety, and also have
tended to fix that Variety in my Mind, and make me Master of it.
Therefore I took some of the Tales and turn'd them into Verse:
And after a time, when I had pretty well forgotten the Prose,[15]
turn'd them back again. I also sometimes jumbled my Collections
of Hints into Confusion, and after some Weeks, endeavour'd
to reduce them into the best Order, before I began to form
the full Sentences, and compleat the Paper. This was to teach
me Method in the Arrangement of Thoughts. By comparing
my work afterwards with the original, I discover'd many faults
and amended them; but I sometimes had the Pleasure of Fancying
that in certain Particulars of small Import, I had been lucky
enough to improve the Method or the Language and this encourag'd
me to think I might possibly in time come to be a tolerable
English Writer, of which I was extreamly ambitious.
My Time for these Exercises and for Reading, was at Night,
after Work or before it began in the Morning; or on Sundays,
when I contrived to be in the Printing House alone, evading as
much as I could the common Attendance on publick Worship,
which my Father used to exact of me when I was under his Care:
And which indeed I still thought a Duty; tho' I could not, as it
seemed to me, afford the Time to practise it.
When about 16 Years of Age, I happen'd to meet with a
Book, written by one Tryon, recommending a Vegetable Diet.
I determined to go into it. My Brother being yet unmarried, did
not keep House, but boarded himself and his Apprentices in another
Family. My refusing to eat Flesh occasioned an Inconveniency,
and I was frequently chid for my singularity. I made
myself acquainted with Tryon's Manner of preparing some of
his Dishes, such as Boiling Potatoes or Rice, making Hasty
Pudding, and a few others, and then propos'd to my Brother,
that if he would give me Weekly half the Money he paid for my
Board I would board myself. He instantly agreed to it, and I
presently found that I could save half what he paid me. This
was an additional Fund for buying Books. But I had another
Advantage in it. My Brother and the rest going from the Printing
House to their Meals, I remain'd there alone, and dispatching
presently my light Repast, (which often was no more than a
Bisket or a Slice of Bread, a Handful of Raisins or a Tart from
the Pastry Cook's, and a Glass of Water) had the rest of the
Time till their Return, for Study, in which I made the greater[16]
Progress from that greater Clearness of Head and quicker Apprehension
which usually attend Temperance in Eating and
Drinking. And now it was that being on some Occasion made
asham'd of my Ignorance in Figures, which I had twice failed in
Learning when at School, I took Cocker's Book of Arithmetick,
and went thro' the whole by myself with great Ease. I also read
Seller's and Sturmy's Books of Navigation, and became acquainted
with the little Geometry they contain, but never proceeded
far in that Science.—And I read about this Time Locke
on Human Understanding, and the Art of Thinking by Messrs
du Port Royal.
While I was intent on improving my Language, I met with an
English Grammar (I think it was Greenwood's) at the End of
which there were two little Sketches of the Arts of Rhetoric and
Logic, the latter finishing with a Specimen of a Dispute in the
Socratic Method. And soon after I procur'd Xenophon's
Memorable Things of Socrates, wherein there are many Instances
of the same Method. I was charm'd with it, adopted it,
dropt my abrupt Contradiction, and positive Argumentation,
and put on the humble Enquirer and Doubter. And being then,
from reading Shaftesbury and Collins, become a real Doubter in
many Points of our religious Doctrine, I found this Method
safest for myself and very embarrassing to those against whom I
us'd it, therefore I took a Delight in it, practis'd it continually
and grew very artful and expert in drawing People even of superior
Knowledge into Concessions the Consequences of which
they did not foresee, entangling them in Difficulties out of which
they could not extricate themselves, and so obtaining Victories
that neither myself nor my Cause always deserved.—I continu'd
this Method some few years, but gradually left it, retaining only
the Habit of expressing myself in Terms of modest Diffidence,
never using when I advance any thing that may possibly be disputed,
the Words, Certainly, undoubtedly; or any others that
give the Air of Positiveness to an Opinion; but rather say, I conceive,
or I apprehend a Thing to be so or so, It appears to me, or
I should think it so or so for such and such Reasons, or I imagine
it to be so, or it is so if I am not mistaken. This Habit I believe[17]
has been of great Advantage to me, when I have had occasion
to inculcate my Opinions and persuade Men into Measures that
I have been from time to time engag'd in promoting.—And as
the chief Ends of Conversation are to inform, or to be informed,
to please or to persuade, I wish wellmeaning sensible Men would
not lessen their Power of doing Good by a Positive assuming
Manner that seldom fails to disgust, tends to create Opposition,
and to defeat every one of those Purposes for which Speech was
given us, to wit, giving or receiving Information, or Pleasure:
For if you would inform, a positive dogmatical Manner in advancing
your Sentiments, may provoke Contradiction and prevent
a candid Attention. If you wish Information and Improvement
from the Knowledge of others and yet at the same time
express yourself as firmly fix'd in your present Opinions, modest
sensible Men, who do not love Disputation, will probably leave
you undisturbed in the Possession of your Error; and by such a
Manner you can seldom hope to recommend yourself in pleasing
your Hearers, or to persuade those whose Concurrence you
desire.—Pope says, judiciously,
Men should be taught as if you taught them not,
And things unknown propos'd as things forgot,—
farther recommending it to us,
To speak tho' sure, with seeming Diffidence.
And he might have coupled with this Line that which he has
coupled with another, I think less properly,
For want of Modesty is want of Sense.
If you ask why less properly, I must repeat the lines;
"Immodest Words admit of no Defence;
For Want of Modesty is Want of Sense."
Now is not Want of Sense (where a Man is so unfortunate as to
want it) some Apology for his Want of Modesty? and would not
the Lines stand more justly thus?[18]
Immodest Words admit but this Defence,
That Want of Modesty is Want of Sense.
This however I should submit to better Judgments.—
My Brother had in 1720 or 21, begun to print a Newspaper.
It was the second that appear'd in America, and was called The
New England Courant.[2] The only one before it, was the Boston
News Letter. I remember his being dissuaded by some of his
Friends from the Undertaking, as not likely to succeed, one
Newspaper being in their Judgment enough for America.—At
this time 1771 there are not less than five and twenty.—He
went on however with the Undertaking, and after having
work'd in composing the Types and printing off the Sheets, I
was employ'd to carry the Papers thro' the Streets to the Customers.—He
had some ingenious Men among his Friends who
amus'd themselves by writing little Pieces for this Paper, which
gain'd it Credit, and made it more in Demand; and these Gentlemen
often visited us.—Hearing their Conversations, and their
Accounts of the Approbation their Papers were receiv'd with, I
was excited to try my Hand among them. But being still a Boy,
and suspecting that my Brother would object to printing any
Thing of mine in his Paper if he knew it to be mine, I contriv'd
to disguise my Hand, and writing an anonymous Paper I put it
in at Night under the Door of the Printing House. It was found
in the Morning and communicated to his Writing Friends when
they call'd in as usual. They read it, commented on it in my
Hearing, and I had the exquisite Pleasure, of finding it met with
their Approbation, and that in their different Guesses at the
Author none were named but Men of some Character among us
for Learning and Ingenuity.—I suppose now that I was rather
lucky in my Judges: And that perhaps they were not really so
very good ones as I then esteem'd them. Encourag'd however
by this, I wrote and convey'd in the same Way to the Press
several more Papers, which were equally approv'd, and I kept
my Secret till my small Fund of Sense for such Performances
was pretty well exhausted, and then I discovered it; when I began
to be considered a little more by my Brother's Acquaintance,
and in a manner that did not quite please him, as he thought,[19]
probably with reason, that it tended to make me too vain. And
perhaps this might be one Occasion of the Differences that we
began to have about this Time. Tho' a Brother, he considered
himself as my Master, and me as his Apprentice; and accordingly
expected the same Services from me as he would from another;
while I thought he demean'd me too much in some he requir'd
of me, who from a Brother expected more Indulgence. Our
Disputes were often brought before our Father, and I fancy I
was either generally in the right, or else a better Pleader, because
the Judgment was generally in my favour: But my Brother was
passionate and had often beaten me, which I took extreamly
amiss; and thinking my Apprenticeship very tedious, I was continually
wishing for some Opportunity of shortening it, which
at length offered in a manner unexpected.[B]
One of the Pieces in our Newspaper, on some political Point
which I have now forgotten, gave Offence to the Assembly. He
was taken up, censur'd and imprison'd for a Month by the
Speaker's Warrant, I suppose because he would not discover his
Author. I too was taken up and examin'd before the Council;
but tho' I did not give them any Satisfaction, they contented
themselves with admonishing me, and dismiss'd me; considering
me perhaps as an Apprentice who was bound to keep his Master's
Secrets. During my Brother's Confinement, which I resented
a good deal, notwithstanding our private Differences, I
had the Management of the Paper, and I made bold to give our
Rulers some Rubs in it, which my Brother took very kindly,
while others began to consider me in an unfavourable Light, as a
young Genius that had a Turn for Libelling and Satyr. My
Brother's Discharge was accompany'd with an Order of the
House, (a very odd one) that James Franklin should no longer
print the Paper called the New England Courant. There was a
Consultation held in our Printing House among his Friends
what he should do in this Case. Some propos'd to evade the
Order by changing the Name of the Paper; but my Brother seeing[20]
Inconveniences in that, it was finally concluded on as a better
Way, to let it be printed for the future under the Name of Benjamin
Franklin. And to avoid the Censure of the Assembly that
might fall on him, as still printing it by his Apprentice, the Contrivance
was, that my old Indenture should be return'd to me
with a full Discharge on the Back of it, to be shown on Occasion;
but to secure to him the Benefit of my Service I was to
sign new Indentures for the Remainder of the Term, wch were
to be kept private. A very flimsy Scheme it was, but however it
was immediately executed, and the Paper went on accordingly
under my Name for several Months. At length a fresh Difference
arising between my Brother and me, I took upon me to
assert my Freedom, presuming that he would not venture to
produce the new Indentures. It was not fair in me to take this
Advantage, and this I therefore reckon one of the first Errata of
my life: But the Unfairness of it weighed little with me, when
under the Impressions of Resentment, for the Blows his Passion
too often urg'd him to bestow upon me. Tho' he was otherwise
not an ill-natur'd Man: Perhaps I was too saucy and provoking.
When he found I would leave him, he took care to prevent
my getting Employment in any other Printing-House of the
Town, by going round and speaking to every Master, who
accordingly refus'd to give me Work. I then thought of going
to New York as the nearest Place where there was a Printer: and
I was the rather inclin'd to leave Boston, when I reflected that I
had already made myself a little obnoxious to the governing
Party; and from the arbitrary Proceedings of the Assembly in
my Brother's Case it was likely I might if I stay'd soon bring myself
into Scrapes; and farther that my indiscrete Disputations
about Religion began to make me pointed at with Horror by
good People, as an Infidel or Atheist. I determin'd on the Point:
but my Father now siding with my Brother, I was sensible that
if I attempted to go openly, Means would be used to prevent me.
My Friend Collins therefore undertook to manage a little for
me. He agreed with the Captain of a New York Sloop for my
Passage, under the Notion of my being a young Acquaintance of
his that had got a naughty Girl with Child, whose Friends[21]
would compel me to marry her, and therefore I could not appear
or come away publickly. So I sold some of my Books to raise a
little Money, Was taken on board privately, and as we had a fair
Wind[,] in three Days I found myself in New York near 300
Miles from home, a Boy of but 17, without the least Recommendation
to or Knowledge of any Person in the Place, and
with very little Money in my Pocket.
My Inclinations for the Sea, were by this time worne out, or I
might now have gratify'd them. But having a Trade, and supposing
myself a pretty good Workman, I offer'd my Service to
the Printer in the Place, old Mr Wm Bradford, who had been
the first Printer in Pensilvania, but remov'd from thence upon
the Quarrel of Geo. Keith.—He could give me no Employment,
having little to do, and Help enough already: But, says he, my
Son at Philadelphia has lately lost his principal Hand, Aquila
Rose, by Death. If you go thither I believe he may employ
you.—Philadelphia was 100 Miles farther. I set out, however, in
a Boat for Amboy, leaving my Chest and Things to follow me
round by Sea. In crossing the Bay we met with a Squall that
tore our rotten Sails to pieces, prevented our getting into the
Kill, and drove us upon Long Island. In our Way a drunken
Dutchman, who was a Passenger too, fell overboard; when he
was sinking I reach'd thro' the Water to his shock Pate and
drew him up so that we got him in again. His ducking sober'd
him a little, and he went to sleep, taking first out of his Pocket a
Book which he desir'd I would dry for him. It prov'd to be my
old favourite Author Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress in Dutch,
finely printed on good Paper with copper Cuts, a Dress better
than I had ever seen it wear in its own Language. I have since
found that it has been translated into most of the Languages of
Europe, and suppose it has been more generally read than any
other Book except perhaps the Bible. Honest John was the first
that I know of who mix'd Narration and Dialogue, a Method of
Writing very engaging to the Reader, who in the most interesting
Parts finds himself, as it were brought into the Company,
and present at the Discourse. Defoe in his Cruso, his Moll
Flanders, Religious Courtship, Family Instructor, and other[22]
Pieces, has imitated it with Success. And Richardson has done
the same in his Pamela, etc.—
When we drew near the Island we found it was at a Place
where there could be no Landing, there being a great Surff on
the stony Beach. So we dropt Anchor and swung round towards
the Shore. Some People came down to the Water Edge
and hallow'd to us, as we did to them. But the Wind was so
high and the Surff so loud, that we could not hear so as to understand
each other. There were Canoes on the Shore, and we
made Signs and hallow'd that they should fetch us, but they
either did not understand us, or thought it impracticable. So
they went away, and Night coming on, we had no Remedy but
to wait till the Wind should abate, and in the mean time the
Boatman and I concluded to sleep if we could, and so crouded
into the Scuttle with the Dutchman who was still wet, and the
Spray beating over the Head of our Boat, leak'd thro' to us, so
that we were soon almost as wet as he. In this Manner we lay all
Night with very little Rest. But the Wind abating the next Day,
we made a Shift to reach Amboy before Night, having been 30
Hours on the Water without Victuals, or any Drink but a Bottle
of filthy Rum: The Water we sail'd on being salt.—
In the Evening I found myself very feverish, and went in to
Bed. But having read somewhere that cold Water drank plentifully
was good for a Fever, I follow'd the Prescription, sweat
plentifully most of the Night, my Fever left me, and in the
Morning crossing the Ferry, I proceeded on my Journey, on
foot, having 50 Miles to Burlington, where I was told I should find
Boats that would carry me the rest of the Way to Philadelphia.
It rain'd very hard all the Day, I was thoroughly soak'd, and
by Noon a good deal tir'd, so I stopt at a poor Inn, where I staid
all Night, beginning now to wish I had never left home. I cut so
miserable a Figure too, that I found by the Questions ask'd me I
was suspected to be some runaway Servant, and in danger of
being taken up on that Suspicion. However I proceeded the
next Day, and got in the Evening to an Inn within 8 or 10 Miles
of Burlington, kept by one Dr Brown.—
He ent[e]red into Conversation with me while I took some[23]
Refreshment, and finding I had read a little, became very sociable
and friendly. Our Acquaintance continu'd as long as he
liv'd. He had been, I imagine, an itinerant Doctor, for there
was no Town in England, or Country in Europe, of which he
could not give a very particular Account. He had some Letters,
and was ingenious, but much of an Unbeliever, and wickedly
undertook, some Years after to travesty the Bible in doggrel
Verse as Cotton had done Virgil. By this means he set many of
the Facts in a very ridiculous Light, and might have hurt weak
minds if his Work had been publish'd:—but it never was.—At
his House I lay that Night, and the next Morning reach'd Burlington.—But
had the Mortification to find that the regular
Boats were gone, a little before my coming, and no other expected
to go till Tuesday, this being Saturday. Wherefore I returned
to an old Woman in the Town of whom I had bought
Gingerbread to eat on the Water, and ask'd her Advice; she invited
me to lodge at her House till a Passage by Water should
offer: and being tired with my foot Travelling, I accepted the
Invitation. She understanding I was a Printer, would have had
me stay at that Town and follow my Business, being ignorant of
the Stock necessary to begin with. She was very hospitable,
gave me a Dinner of Ox Cheek with great Goodwill, accepting
only of a Pot of Ale in return. And I thought myself fix'd till
Tuesday should come. However walking in the Evening by
the Side of the River, a Boat came by, which I found was going
towards Philadelphia, with several People in her. They took
me in, and as there was no wind, we row'd all the Way; and
about Midnight not having yet seen the City, some of the Company
were confident we must have pass'd it, and would row no
farther, the others knew not where we were, so we put towards
the Shore, got into a Creek, landed near an old Fence[,] with
the Rails of which we made a Fire, the Night being cold, in
October, and there we remain'd till Daylight. Then one of the
Company knew the Place to be Cooper's Creek a little above
Philadelphia, which we saw as soon as we got out of the Creek,
and arriv'd there about 8 or 9 o'Clock, on the Sunday morning,
and landed at the Market street Wharff.[24]—
I have been the more particular in this Description of my
Journey, and shall be so of my first Entry into that City, that
you may in your Mind compare such unlikely Beginnings with
the Figure I have since made there. I was in my Working
Dress, my best Cloaths being to come round by Sea. I was
dirty from my Journey; my Pockets were stuff'd out with
Shirts and Stockings; I knew no Soul, nor where to look for
Lodging. I was fatigued with Travelling, Rowing and Want
of Rest. I was very hungry, and my whole Stock of Cash consisted
of a Dutch Dollar and about a Shilling in Copper. The
latter I gave the People of the Boat for my Passage, who at first
refus'd it on Acct of my Rowing; but I insisted on their taking
it, a Man being sometimes more generous when he has but a
little Money than when he has plenty, perhaps thro' Fear of being
thought to have but little. Then I walk'd up the Street, gazing
about, till near the Market House I met a Boy with Bread. I
had made many a Meal on Bread, and inquiring where he got it,
I went immediately to the Baker's he directed me to in Second
Street; and ask'd for Bisket, intending such as we had in Boston,
but they it seems were not made in Philadelphia, then I ask'd for
a threepenny Loaf, and was told they had none such: so not
considering or knowing the Difference of Money and the
greater Cheapness nor the Names of his Bread, I bad[e] him give
me threepenny worth of any sort. He gave me accordingly
three great Puffy Rolls. I was surpriz'd at the Quantity, but
took it, and having no room in my Pockets, walk'd off, with a
Roll under each Arm, and eating the other. Thus I went up
Market Street as far as fourth Street, passing by the Door of Mr.
Read, my future Wife's Father, when she standing at the Door
saw me, and thought I made as I certainly did a most awkward
ridiculous Appearance. Then I turn'd and went down Chestnut
Street and part of Walnut Street, eating my Roll all the Way,
and coming round found myself again at Market Street Wharff,
near the Boat I came in, to which I went for a Draught of the
River Water, and being fill'd with one of my Rolls, gave the
other two to a Woman and her Child that came down the River
in the Boat with us and were waiting to go farther. Thus refresh'd[25]
I walk'd again, up the Street, which by this time had
many clean dress'd People in it who were all walking the same
Way; I join'd them, and thereby was led into the great Meeting
House of the Quakers near the Market. I sat down among them,
and after looking round awhile and hearing nothing said; being
very drowsy thro' Labour and want of Rest the preceding Night,
I fell fast asleep, and continu'd so till the Meeting broke up,
when one was kind enough to rouse me. This was therefore the
first House I was in or slept in, in Philadelphia.—
Walking again down towards the River, and looking in the
Faces of People, I met a young Quaker Man whose Countenance
I lik'd, and accosting him requested he would tell me
where a Stranger could get Lodging. We were then near the
Sign of the Three Mariners. Here, says he, is one Place that entertains
Strangers, but it is not a reputable House; if thee wilt
walk with me, I'll show thee a better. He brought me to the
Crooked Billet in Water Street. Here I got a Dinner. And
while I was eating it, several sly Questions were ask'd me, as it
seem'd to be suspected from my youth and Appearance, that I
might be some Runaway. After Dinner my Sleepiness return'd:
and being shown to a Bed, I lay down without undressing, and
slept till Six in the Evening; was call'd to Supper; went to Bed
again very early and slept soundly till next Morning. Then I
made myself as tidy as I could, and went to Andrew Bradford
the Printer's. I found in the Shop the old Man his Father, whom
I had seen at New York, and who travelling on horseback had
got to Philadelphia before me. He introduc'd me to his Son,
who receiv'd me civilly, gave me a Breakfast, but told me he did
not at present want a Hand, being lately supply'd with one. But
there was another Printer in town lately set up, one Keimer,
who perhaps might employ me; if not, I should be welcome to
lodge at his House, and he would give me a little Work to do
now and then till fuller Business should offer.
The old Gentleman said, he would go with me to the new
Printer: And when we found him, Neighbor, says Bradford, I
have brought to see you a young Man of your Business, perhaps
you may want such a One. He ask'd me a few Questions, put a[26]
Composing Stick in my Hand to see how I work'd, and then
said he would employ me soon, tho' he had just then nothing
for me to do. And taking old Bradford whom he had never seen
before, to be one of the Towns People that had a Good Will for
him, enter'd into a Conversation on his present Undertaking and
Prospects; while Bradford not discovering that he was the other
Printer's Father, on Keimer's saying he expected soon to get
the greatest Part of the Business into his own Hands, drew him
on by artful Questions and starting little Doubts, to explain all
his Views, what Interest he rely'd on, and in what manner he intended
to proceed.—I who stood by and heard all, saw immediately
that one of them was a crafty old Sophister, and the
other a mere Novice. Bradford left me with Keimer, who was
greatly surpriz'd when I told him who the old Man was.
Keimer's Printing House I found, consisted of an old shatter'd
Press, and one small worn-out Fount of English, which he
was then using himself, composing in it an Elegy on Aquila Rose
before-mentioned, an ingenious young Man of excellent Character
much respected in the Town, Clerk of the Assembly, and a
pretty Poet. Keimer made Verses, too, but very indifferently.
He could not be said to write them, for his Manner was to compose
them in the Types directly out of his Head; so there being
no Copy, but one Pair of Cases, and the Elegy likely to require
all the Letter[s], no one could help him.—I endeavour'd to put
his Press (which he had not yet us'd, and of which he understood
nothing) into Order fit to be work'd with; and promising
to come and print off his Elegy as soon as he should have got it
ready, I return'd to Bradford's who gave me a little Job to do
for the present, [and] there I lodged and dieted. A few Days
after[,] Keimer sent for me to print off the Elegy. And now he
had got another Pair of Cases, and a Pamphlet to reprint, on
which he set me to work.—
These two Printers I found poorly Qualified for their Business.
Bradford had not been bred to it, and was very illiterate;
and Keimer tho' something of a Scholar, was a mere Compositor,
knowing nothing of Presswork. He had been one of the
French Prophets and could act their enthusiastic Agitations. At[27]
this time he did not profess any particular Religion, but something
of all on occasion; was very ignorant of the World, and
had, as I afterward found, a good deal of the Knave in his Composition.
He did not like my Lodging at Bradford's while I
work'd with him. He had a House indeed, but without Furniture,
so he could not lodge me: But he got me a Lodging at Mr.
Read's beforementioned, who was the Owner of his House.
And my Chest and Clothes being come by this time, I made
rather a more respectable Appearance in the Eyes of Miss Read
than I had done when she first happen'd to see me eating my
Roll in the Street.—
I began now to have some Acquaintance among the young
People of the Town, that were Lovers of Reading with whom I
spent my Evenings very pleasantly and gaining Money by my
Industry and Frugality, I lived very agreably, forgetting Boston
as much as I could, and not desiring that any there should know
where I resided, except my Friend Collins who was in my Secret,
and kept it when I wrote to him. At length an Incident
happened that sent me back again much sooner than I had intended.—
I had a Brother-in-law, Robert Holmes, Master of a Sloop,
that traded between Boston and Delaware. He being at New
Castle 40 Miles below Philadelphia, heard there of me, and
wrote me a Letter, mentioning the Concern of my Friends in
Boston at my abrupt Departure, assuring me of their Good will
to me, and that every thing would be accommodated to my
Mind if I would return, to which he exhorted me very earnestly.
I wrote an Answer to his Letter, thank'd him for his Advice, but
stated my Reasons for quitting Boston fully, and in such a Light
as to convince him I was not so wrong as he had apprehended.
Sir William Keith[3] Governor of the Province, was then at New
Castle, and Capt. Holmes happening to be in Company with
him when my Letter came to hand, spoke to him of me, and
show'd him the Letter. The Governor read it, and seem'd surpriz'd
when he was told my Age. He said I appear'd a young
Man of promising Parts, and therefore should be encouraged:
The Printers at Philadelphia were wretched ones, and if I would[28]
set up there, he made no doubt I should succeed; for his Part, he
would procure me the publick Business, and do me every other
Service in his Power. This my Brother-in-law afterwards told
me in Boston. But I knew as yet nothing of it; when one Day
Keimer and I being at Work together near the Window, we saw
the Governor and another Gentleman (which prov'd to be Col.
French, of New Castle) finely dress'd, come directly across the
Street to our House, and heard them at the Door. Keimer ran
down immediately, thinking it a Visit to him. But the Governor
enquir'd for me, came up, and with a Condescension and Politeness
I had been quite unus'd to, made me many Compliments,
desired to be acquainted with me, blam'd me kindly for
not having made myself known to him when I first came to the
Place, and would have me away with him to the Tavern where
he was going with Col. French to taste as he said some excellent
Madeira. I was not a little surpriz'd, and Keimer star'd like a
Pig poison'd. I went however with the Governor and Col.
French, to a Tavern [at] the Corner of Third Street, and over the
Madeira he propos'd my Setting up my Business, laid before me
the Probabilities of Success, and both he and Col. French, assur'd
me I should have their Interest and Influence in procuring
the Publick Business of both Governments. On my doubting
whether my Father would assist me in it, Sir William said he
would give me a Letter to him, in which he would state the Advantages,
and he did not doubt of prevailing with him. So it
was concluded I should return to Boston in the first Vessel with
the Governor's Letter recommending me to my Father. In the
mean time the Intention was to be kept secret, and I went on
working with Keimer as usual, the Governor sending for me
now and then to dine with him, a very great Honour I thought
it, and conversing with me in the most affable, familiar, and
friendly manner imaginable. About the End of April 1724 a
little Vessel offer'd for Boston. I took leave of Keimer as going
to see my Friends. The Governor gave me an ample Letter,
saying many flattering things of me to my Father, and strongly
recommending the Project of my setting up at Philadelphia, as a
Thing that must make my Fortune. We struck on a Shoal in going[29]
down the Bay and sprung a Leak, we had a blustering time
at Sea, and were oblig'd to pump almost continually, at which I
took my Turn. We arriv'd safe however at Boston in about a
Fortnight.—I had been absent Seven Months and my Friends
had heard nothing of me; for my Br. Holmes was not yet return'd;
and had not written about me. My unexpected Appearance
surpriz'd the Family; all were however very glad to see me
and made me Welcome, except my Brother. I went to see him
at his Printing-House: I was better dress'd than ever while in
his Service, having a genteel new Suit from Head to foot, a
Watch, and my Pockets lin'd with near Five Pounds Sterling in
Silver. He receiv'd me not very frankly, look'd me all over, and
turn'd to his Work again. The JourneyMen were inquisitive
where I had been, what sort of a Country it was, and how I lik'd
it? I prais'd it much, and the happy Life I led in it; expressing
strongly my Intention of returning to it; and one of them asking
what kind of Money we had there, I produc'd a handful of Silver
and spread it before them, which was a kind of Raree Show they
had not been us'd to, Paper being the Money of Boston. Then I
took an Opportunity of letting them see my Watch: and lastly,
(my Brother still grum and sullen) I gave them a Piece of Eight
to drink, and took my Leave.—This Visit of mine offended him
extreamly. For when my Mother some time after spoke to him
of a Reconciliation, and of her Wishes to see us on good Terms
together, and that we might live for the future as Brothers, he
said, I had insulted him in such a Manner before his People that
he could never forget or forgive it. In this however he was
mistaken.—
My Father received the Governor's Letter with some apparent
Surprize; but said little of it to me for some Days; when Capt.
Holmes returning, he show'd it to him, ask'd if he knew Keith,
and what kind of a Man he was: Adding his Opinion that he must
be of small Discretion, to think of setting a Boy up in Business
who wanted yet 3 Years of being at Man's Estate. Holmes said
what he could in favr of the Project; but my Father was clear in
the Impropriety of it; and at last gave a flat Denial to it. Then
he wrote a civil Letter to Sir William thanking him for the[30]
Patronage he had so kindly offered me, but declining to assist
me as yet in Setting up, I being in his Opinion too young to be
trusted with the Management of a Business so important, and for
which the Preparation must be so expensive.—
My Friend and Companion Collins, who was a Clerk at the
Post-Office, pleas'd with the Account I gave him of my new
Country, determin'd to go thither also: And while I waited for
my Fathers Determination, he set out before me by Land to
Rhodeisland, leaving his Books which were a pretty Collection
of Mathematicks and Natural Philosophy, to come with mine
and me to New York where he propos'd to wait for me. My
Father, tho' he did not approve Sir William's Proposition was
yet pleas'd that I had been able to obtain so advantageous a
Character from a Person of such Note where I had resided, and
that I had been so industrious and careful as to equip myself so
handsomely in so short a time: therefore seeing no Prospect of
an Accommodation between my Brother and me, he gave his
Consent to my Returning again to Philadelphia, advis'd me to
behave respectfully to the People there, endeavour to obtain the
general Esteem, and avoid lampooning and libelling to which
he thought I had too much Inclination; telling me, that by steady
Industry and a prudent Parsimony, I might save enough by the
time I was One and Twenty to set me up, and that if I came near
the Matter he would help me out with the rest. This was all I
could obtain, except some small Gifts as Tokens of his and my
Mother's Love, when I embark'd again for New-York, now
with their Approbation and their Blessing.—
The Sloop putting in at Newport, Rhodeisland, I visited my
Brother John, who had been married and settled there some
Years. He received me very affectionately, for he always lov'd
me. A Friend of his, one Vernon, having some Money due to
him in Pensilvania, about 35 Pounds Currency, desired I would
receive it for him, and keep it till I had his Directions what to
remit it in. Accordingly he gave me an Order.—This afterwards
occasion'd me a good deal of Uneasiness. At Newport
we took in a Number of Passengers for New York: Among
which were two young Women, Companions, and a grave, sensible[31]
Matron-like Quaker-Woman with her Attendants.—I had
shown an obliging readiness to do her some little Services which
impress'd her I suppose with a degree of Good-will towards me.—Therefore
when she saw a daily growing Familiarity between
me and the two Young Women, which they appear'd to encourage,
she took me aside and said, Young Man, I am concern'd
for thee, as thou has no Friend with thee, and seems not to know
much of the World, or of the Snares Youth is expos'd to; depend
upon it those are very bad Women, I can see it in all their Actions,
and if thee art not upon thy Guard, they will draw thee
into some Danger: they are Strangers to thee, and I advise thee
in a friendly Concern for thy Welfare, to have no Acquaintance
with them. As I seem'd at first not to think so ill of them as she
did, she mention'd some Things she had observ'd and heard
that had escap'd my Notice; but now convinc'd me she was
right. I thank'd her for her kind Advice, and promis'd to follow
it.—When we arriv'd at New York, they told me where they
liv'd, and invited me to come and see them: but I avoided it.
And it was well I did: For the next Day, the Captain miss'd a
Silver Spoon and some other Things that had been taken out of
his Cabbin, and knowing that these were a Couple of Strumpets,
he got a Warrant to search their Lodgings, found the stolen
Goods, and had the Thieves punish'd. So tho' we had escap'd
a sunken Rock which we scrap'd upon in the Passage, I thought
this Escape of rather more Importance to me. At New York I
found my Friend Collins, who had arriv'd there some Time before
me. We had been intimate from Children, and had read the
same Books together: But he had the Advantage of more time
for reading, and Studying and a wonderful Genius for Mathematical
Learning in which he far outstript me. While I liv'd in
Boston most of my Hours of Leisure for Conversation were
spent with him, and he continu'd a sober as well as an industrious
Lad; was much respected for his Learning by several of the
Clergy and other Gentlemen, and seem'd to promise making a
good Figure in Life: but during my Absence he had acquir'd a
Habit of Sotting with Brandy; and I found by his own Account
and what I heard from others, that he had been drunk every day[32]
since his Arrival at New York, and behav'd very oddly. He had
gam'd too and lost his Money, so that I was oblig'd to discharge
his Lodgings, and defray his Expenses to and at Philadelphia:
Which prov'd extreamly inconvenient to me. The then Governor
of N[ew] York, Burnet, Son of Bishop Burnet hearing from
the Captain that a young Man, one of his Passengers, had a great
many Books, desired he would bring me to see him. I waited
upon him accordingly, and should have taken Collins with me
but that he was not sober. The Govr treated me with great
Civility, show'd me his Library, which was a very large one, and
we had a good deal of Conversation about Books and Authors.
This was the second Governor who had done me the Honour to
take Notice of me, which to a poor Boy like me was very pleasing.—We
proceeded to Philadelphia. I received on the Way
Vernon's Money, without which we could hardly have finish'd
our Journey. Collins wish'd to be employ'd in some Counting
House; but whether they discover'd his Dramming by his
Breath, or by his Behaviour, tho' he had some Recommendations,
he met with no Success in any Application, and continu'd
Lodging and Boarding at the same House with me and at my Expense.
Knowing I had that Money of Vernon's he was continually
borrowing of me, still promising Repayment as soon as he
should be in Business. At length he had got so much of it, that
I was distress'd to think what I should do, in case of being call'd
on to remit it. His Drinking continu'd, about which we sometimes
quarrel'd, for when a little intoxicated he was very fractious.
Once in a Boat on the Delaware with some other young
Men, he refused to row in his Turn: I will be row'd home, says he.
We will not row you, says I. You must or stay all Night on the
Water, says he, just as you please. The others said, Let us row;
what signifies it? But my Mind being soured with his other Conduct,
I continu'd to refuse. So he swore he would make me row,
or throw me overboard; and coming along stepping on the
Thwarts towards me, when he came up and struck at me I clapt
my Hand under his Crutch, and rising pitch'd him head-foremost
into the River. I knew he was a good Swimmer, and so
was under little Concern about him; but before he could get[33]
round to lay hold of the Boat, we had with a few Strokes pull'd
her out of his Reach. And ever when he drew near the Boat, we
ask'd if he would row, striking a few Strokes to slide her away
from him.—He was ready to die with Vexation, and obstinately
would not promise to row; however seeing him at last beginning
to tire, we lifted him in; and brought him home dripping wet in
the Evening. We hardly exchang'd a civil Word afterwards;
and a West India Captain who had a Commission to procure a
Tutor for the Sons of a Gentleman at Barbadoes, happening to
meet with him, agreed to carry him thither. He left me then,
promising to remit me the first Money he should receive in order
to discharge the Debt. But I never heard of him after. The
Breaking into this Money of Vernon's was one of the first great
Errata of my Life[.] And this Affair show'd that my Father was
not much out in his Judgment when he suppos'd me too Young
to manage Business of Importance. But Sir William, on reading
his Letter, said he was too prudent. There was great Difference
in Persons, and Discretion did not always accompany Years,
nor was Youth always without it. And since he will not set you
up, says he, I will do it myself. Give me an Inventory of the
Things necessary to be had from England, and I will send for
them. You shall repay me when you are able; I am resolv'd to
have a good Printer here, and I am sure you must succeed. This
was spoken with such an Appearance of Cordiality, that I had
not the least doubt of his meaning what he said. I had hitherto
kept the Proposition of my Setting up[,] a Secret in Philadelphia,
and I still kept it. Had it been known that I depended on the
Governor, probably some Friend that knew him better would
have advis'd me not to rely on him, as I afterwards heard it as his
known Character to be liberal of Promises which he never
meant to keep.—Yet unsolicited as he was by me, how could I
think his generous Offers insincere? I believ'd him one of the
best Men in the World.—
I presented him an Inventory of a little Print[8] House,
amounting by my Computation to about 100£ Sterling. He
lik'd it, but ask'd me if my being on the Spot in England to
chuse the Types and see that every thing was good of the kind,[34]
might not be of some Advantage. Then, says he, when there,
you may make Acquaintances and establish Correspondencies
in the Bookselling and Stationary Way. I agreed that this might
be advantageous. Then, says he, get yourself ready to go with
Annis; which was the annual Ship, and the only one at that Time
usually passing between London and Philadelphia. But it would
be some Months before Annis sail'd, so I continu'd working
with Keimer, fretting about the Money Collins had got from me;
and in daily Apprehensions of being call'd upon by Vernon,
which however did not happen for some Years after.—
I believe I have omitted mentioning that in my first Voyage
from Boston, being becalm'd off Block Island, our People set
about catching Cod and haul'd up a great many. Hitherto I had
stuck to my Resolution of not eating animal Food; and on this
Occasion, I consider'd with my Master Tryon, the taking every
Fish as a kind of unprovoked Murder, since none of them had or
ever could do us any Injury that might justify the Slaughter. All
this seem'd very reasonable.—But I had formerly been a great
Lover of Fish, and when this came hot out of the Frying Pan, it
smelt admirably well. I balanc'd some time between Principle
and Inclination: till I recollected, that when the Fish were
opened, I saw smaller Fish taken out of their Stomachs: Then
thought I, if you eat one another, I don't see why we mayn't eat
you. So I din'd upon Cod very heartily and continu'd to eat
with other People, returning only now and then occasionally to
a vegetable Diet. So convenient a thing it is to be a reasonable
Creature, since it enables one to find or make a Reason for every
thing one has a mind to do.
Keimer and I liv'd on a pretty good familiar Footing and
agreed tolerably well: for he suspected nothing of my Setting up.
He retain'd a great deal of his old Enthusiasms, and lov'd Argumentation.
We therefore had many Disputations. I used to
work him so with my Socratic Method, and had trepann'd him
so often by Questions apparently so distant from any Point we
had in hand, and yet by degrees led to the Point, and brought
him into Difficulties and Contradictions that at last he grew
ridiculously cautious, and would hardly answer me the most[35]
common Question, without asking first, What do you intend to
infer from that? However it gave him so high an Opinion of my
Abilities in the Confuting Way, that he seriously propos'd my
being his Colleague in a Project he had of setting up a new Sect.
He was to preach the Doctrines, and I was to confound all
Opponents. When he came to explain with me upon the Doctrines,
I found several Conundrums which I objected to, unless
I might have my Way a little too, and introduce some of mine.
Keimer wore his Beard at full Length, because somewhere in the
Mosaic Law it is said, thou shalt not mar the Corners of thy
beard. He likewise kept the seventh day Sabbath; and these two
Points were Essentials with him. I dislik'd both, but agreed to
admit them upon Condition of his adopting the Doctrine of
using no animal Food. I doubt, says he, my Constitution will
not bear that. I assur'd him it would, and that he would be the
better for it. He was usually a great Glutton, and I promis'd
myself some Diversion in half-starving him. He agreed to try
the Practice if I would keep him Company. I did so and we
held it for three Months. We had our Victuals dress'd and
brought to us regularly by a Woman in the Neighbourhood, who
had from me a List of 40 Dishes to be prepar'd for us at different
times, in all which there was neither Fish Flesh nor Fowl,
and the whim suited me the better at this time from the Cheapness
of it, not costing us above 18d Sterling each, per Week. I
have since kept several Lents most strictly, leaving the common
Diet for that, and that for the common, abruptly, without the
least Inconvenience: So that I think there is little in the Advice
of making those Changes by easy Gradations. I went on
pleasantly, but Poor Keimer suffer'd grievously, tir'd of the
Project, long'd for the Flesh Pots of Egypt, and order'd a roast
Pig. He invited me and two Women Friends to dine with him,
but it being brought too soon upon the table, he could not resist
the Temptation, and ate it all up before we came.—
I had made some Courtship during this time to Miss Read. I
had a great Respect and Affection for her, and had some Reason
to believe she had the same for me: but as I was about to take a
long Voyage, and we were both very young, only a little above[36]
18, it was thought most prudent by her Mother to prevent our
going too far at present, as a Marriage if it was to take place
would be more convenient after my Return, when I should be as
I expected set up in my Business. Perhaps too she thought my
Expectations not so well founded as I imagined them to be.—
My chief Acquaintances at this time were, Charles Osborne,
Joseph Watson, and James Ralph; all Lovers of Reading. The
two first were Clerks to an eminent Scrivener or Conveyancer in
the Town, Charles Brogden; the other was Clerk to a Merchant.
Watson was a pious sensible young Man, of great Integrity.—The
others rather more lax in their Principles of Religion, particularly
Ralph, who as well as Collins had been unsettled by
me, for which they both made me suffer.—Osborne was sensible,
candid, frank, sincere and affectionate to his Friends; but
in literary Matters too fond of Criticising. Ralph, was ingenious,
genteel in his Manners, and extreamly eloquent; I think I never
knew a prettier Talker. Both of them great Admirers of Poetry,
and began to try their Hands in little Pieces. Many pleasant
Walks we four had together on Sundays into the Woods near
Schuylkill, where we read to one another and conferr'd on what
we read. Ralph was inclin'd to pursue the Study of Poetry, not
doubting but he might become eminent in it and make his Fortune
by it, alledging that the best Poets must when they first
began to write, make as many Faults as he did.—Osborne
dissuaded him, assur'd him he had no Genius for Poetry, and
advis'd him to think of nothing beyond the Business he was
bred to; that in the mercantile way tho' he had no Stock, he might
by his Diligence and Punctuality recommend himself to Employment
as a Factor, and in time acquire wherewith to trade on his
own Account. I approv'd the amusing one's self with Poetry
now and then, so far as to improve one's Language, but no farther.
On this it was propos'd that we should each of us at our
next Meeting produce a Piece of our own Composing, in order
to improve by our mutual Observations, Criticisms and Corrections.
As Language and Expression was what we had in View,
we excluded all Considerations of Invention, by agreeing that
the Task should be a Version of the 18th Psalm, which describes[37]
the Descent of a Deity. When the Time of our Meeting
drew nigh, Ralph call'd on me first, and let me know his Piece
was ready. I told him I had been busy, and having little Inclination
had done nothing. He then show'd me his Piece for
my Opinion; and I much approv'd it, as it appear'd to me to have
great Merit. Now, says he, Osborne never will allow the least
Merit in any thing of mine, but makes 1000 Criticisms out of
mere Envy. He is not so jealous of you. I wish therefore you
would take this Piece, and produce it as yours. I will pretend
not to have had time, and so produce nothing: We shall then
see what he will say to it. It was agreed, and I immediately
transcrib'd it that it might appear in my own hand. We met.
Watson's Performance was read: there were some Beauties in it:
but many Defects. Osborne's was read: It was much better.
Ralph did it Justice, remark'd some Faults, but applauded the
Beauties. He himself had nothing to produce. I was backward,
seem'd desirous of being excused, had not had sufficient Time
to correct, etc. but no Excuse could be admitted, produce I must.
It was read and repeated; Watson and Osborne gave up the Contest;
and join'd in applauding it immoderately. Ralph only
made some Criticisms and propos'd some Amendments, but I
defended my Text. Osborne was against Ralph, and told him
he was no better a Critic than Poet; so he dropt the Argument.
As they two went home together, Osborne express'd himself
still more strongly in favour of what he thought my Production,
having restrain'd himself before as he said, lest I should think it
Flattery. But who would have imagin'd, says he, that Franklin
had been capable of such a Performance; such Painting, such
Force! such Fire! he has even improv'd the Original! In his common
Conversation, he seems to have no Choice of Words; he
hesitates and blunders; and yet, good God, how he writes!—When
we next met, Ralph discover'd the Trick we had plaid
him, and Osborne was a little laught at. This Transaction fix'd
Ralph in his Resolution of becoming a Poet. I did all I could to
dissuade him from it, but he continued scribbling Verses, till
Pope cur'd him. He became however a pretty good Prose
Writer. More of him hereafter. But as I may not have occasion[38]
again to mention the other two, I shall just remark here, that
Watson died in my Arms a few Years after, much lamented, being
the best of our Set. Osborne went to the West Indies, where
he became an eminent Lawyer and made Money, but died young.
He and I had made a serious Agreement, that the one who happen'd
first to die, should if possible make a friendly Visit to the
other, and acquaint him how he found things in that Separate
State. But he never fulfill'd his Promise.
The Governor, seeming to like my Company, had me frequently
to his House; and his Setting me up was always mention'd
as a fix'd thing. I was to take with me Letters recommendatory
to a Number of his Friends, besides the Letter of
Credit to furnish me with the necessary Money for purchasing
the Press and Types, Paper, etc. For these Letters I was appointed
to call at different times, when they were to be ready,
but a future time was still named.—Thus we went on till the
Ship whose Departure too had been several times postponed
was on the Point of sailing. Then when I call'd to take my
Leave and receive the Letters, his Secretary, Dr. Bard, came out
to me and said the Governor was extreamly busy, in writing, but
would be down at Newcastle before the Ship, and there the
Letters would be delivered to me.
Ralph, tho' married and having one Child, had determined to
accompany me in this Voyage. It was thought he intended to
establish a Correspondence, and obtain Goods to sell on Commission.
But I found afterwards, that thro' some Discontent
with his Wife's Relations, he purposed to leave her on their
Hands, and never return again.—Having taken leave of my
Friends, and interchang'd some Promises with Miss Read, I left
Philadelphia in the Ship, which anchor'd at Newcastle. The
Governor was there. But when I went to his Lodging, the
Secretary came to me from him with the civillest Message in the
World, that he could not then see me being engag'd in Business
of the utmost Importance, but should send the Letters to me on
board, wish'd me heartily a good Voyage and a speedy Return,
etc. I return'd on board, a little puzzled, but still not doubting.[39]—
Mr. Andrew Hamilton, a famous Lawyer of Philadelphia, had
taken Passage in the same Ship for himself and Son: and with
Mr. Denham a Quaker Merchant, and Messrs. Onion and Russell[,]
Masters of an Iron Work in Maryland, had engag'd the
Great Cabin; so that Ralph and I were forc'd to take up with a
Birth in the Steerage: And none on board knowing us, were considered
as ordinary Persons.—But Mr. Hamilton and his Son (it
was James, since Governor) return'd from New Castle to
Philadelphia, the Father being recall'd by a great Fee to plead
for a seized Ship.—And just before we sail'd Col. French coming
on board, and showing me great Respect, I was more taken Notice
of, and with my Friend Ralph invited by the other Gentlemen
to come into the Cabin, there being now Room. Accordingly
we remov'd thither.
Understanding that Col. French had brought on board the
Governor's Dispatches, I ask'd the Captain for those Letters
that were to be under my Care. He said all were put into the
Bag together; and he could not then come at them; but before
we landed in England, I should have an Opportunity of picking
them out. So I was satisfy'd for the present, and we proceeded
on our Voyage. We had a sociable Company in the Cabin, and
lived uncommonly well, having the Addition of all Mr. Hamilton's
Stores, who had laid in plentifully. In this Passage Mr.
Denham contracted a Friendship for me that continued during
his Life. The Voyage was otherwise not a pleasant one, as we
had a great deal of bad Weather.
When we came into the Channel, the Captain kept his Word
with me, and gave me an Opportunity of examining the Bag for
the Governor's Letters. I found none upon which my Name
was put, as under my Care; I pick'd out 6 or 7 that by the Hand
writing I thought might be the promis'd Letters, especially as
one of them was directed to Basket the King's printer, and another
to some Stationer. We arriv'd in London the 24th of
December, 1724.—I waited upon the Stationer who came first in
my Way, delivering the Letter as from Gov. Keith. I don't
know such a Person, says he: but opening the Letter, O, this is
from Riddlesden; I have lately found him to be a compleat Rascal,[40]
and I will have nothing to do with him, nor receive any Letters
from him. So putting the Letter into my Hand, he turn'd
on his Heel and left me to serve some Customer. I was surprized
to find these were not the Governor's Letters. And after
recollecting and comparing Circumstances, I began to doubt his
Sincerity.—I found my Friend Denham, and opened the whole
Affair to him. He let me into Keith's Character, told me there
was not the least Probability that he had written any Letters for
me, that no one who knew him had the smallest Dependence on
him, and he laught at the Notion of the Governor's giving me a
Letter of Credit, having as he said no Credit to give.—On my
expressing some Concern about what I should do: He advis'd
me to endeavour getting some Employment in the Way of my
Business. Among the Printers here, says he, you will improve
yourself; and when you return to America, you will set up to
greater Advantage.—
We both of us happen'd to know, as well as the Stationer,
that Riddlesden the Attorney, was a very Knave. He had half
ruin'd Miss Read's Father by acquiring his note he bound for
him. By his Letter it appear'd, there was a secret Scheme on foot
to the Prejudice of Hamilton, (suppos'd to be then coming over
with us,) and that Keith was concern'd in it with Riddlesden.
Denham, who was a Friend of Hamilton's, thought he ought to
be acquainted with it. So when he arriv'd in England, which was
soon after, partly from Resentment and Ill-Will to Keith and
Riddlesden, and partly from Good Will to him: I waited
on him, and gave him the Letter. He thank'd me cordially, the
Information being of Importance to him. And from that time
he became my Friend, greatly to my Advantage afterwards on
many Occasions.
But what shall we think of a Governor's playing such pitiful
Tricks, and imposing so grossly on a poor ignorant Boy! It
was a Habit he had acquired. He wish'd to please every body;
and, having little to give, he gave Expectations. He was otherwise
an ingenious sensible Man, a pretty good Writer, and a
good Governor for the People, tho' not for his Constituents the
Proprietaries, whose Instructions he sometimes disregarded.—Several[41]
of our best Laws were of his Planning, and pass'd during
his Administration.—
Ralph and I were inseparable Companions. We took Lodgings
together in Little Britain at 3/6 p[er] Week, as much as we
could then afford. He found some Relations, but they were
poor and unable to assist him. He now let me know his Intentions
of remaining in London, and that he never meant to return
to Philada—He had brought no Money with him, the whole
he could muster having been expended in paying his Passage.
I had 15 Pistoles: So he borrowed occasionally of me, to subsist
while he was looking out for Business.—He first endeavoured
to get into the Playhouse, believing himself qualify'd for an
Actor; but Wilkes to whom he apply'd, advis'd him candidly
not to think of that Employment, as it was impossible he should
succeed in it.—Then he propos'd to Roberts, a Publisher in
Paternoster Row, to write for him a Weekly Paper like the
Spectator, on certain Conditions, which Roberts did not approve.
Then he endeavour'd to get Employmt as a Hackney
Writer to copy for the Stationers and Lawyers about the Temple:
but could find no Vacancy.—
I immediately got into Work at Palmer's then a famous
Printing House in Bartholomew Close; and here I continu'd
near a Year. I was pretty diligent; but spent with Ralph a good
deal of my Earnings in going to Plays and other Places of
Amusement. We had together consum'd all my Pistoles, and
now just rubb'd on from hand to mouth. He seem'd quite to
forget his Wife and Child, and I by degrees my Engagements
wth Miss Read, to whom I never wrote more than one Letter,
and that was to let her know I was not likely soon to return.
This was another of the great Errata of my Life, which I should
wish to correct if I were to live it over again.—In fact, by our
Expences, I was constantly kept unable to pay my Passage.
At Palmer's I was employ'd in composing for the second Edition
of Woollaston's [sic] Religion of Nature. Some of his
Reasonings not appearing to me well-founded, I wrote a little
metaphysical Piece, in which I made Remarks on them. It was
entitled, A Dissertation on Liberty and Necessity, Pleasure and[42]
pain. I inscrib'd it to my Friend Ralph.—I printed a small Number.
It occasion'd my being more consider'd by Mr. Palmer, as
a young Man of some Ingenuity, tho' he seriously Expostulated
with me upon the Principles of my Pamphlet which to him appear'd
abominable. My printing this Pamphlet was another
Erratum.
In our House there lodg'd a young Woman; a Millener,
who I think had a Shop in the Cloisters. She had been genteelly
bred, was sensible and lively, and of most pleasing Conversation.
Ralph read Plays to her in the Evenings, they grew
intimate, she took another Lodging, and he follow'd her. They
liv'd together some time, but he being still out of Business, and
her Income not sufficient to maintain them with her Child, he
took a Resolution of going from London, to try for a Country
School, which bethought himself well qualify'd to undertake, as
he wrote an excellent Hand, and was a Master of Arithmetic and
Accounts.—This however he deem'd a Business below him,
and confident of future better Fortune when he should be unwilling
to have it known that he once was so meanly employ'd,
he chang'd his Name, and did me the Honour to assume mine.—For
I soon after had a Letter from him, acquainting me, that he
was settled in a small Village in Berkshire, I think it was, where
he taught reading and writing to 10 or a dozen Boys at 6 pence
each p[er] Week, recommending Mrs. T. to my Care, and desiring
me to write to him directing for Mr. Franklin Schoolmaster
at such a Place. He continu'd to write frequently, sending me
large Specimens of an Epic Poem, which he was then composing,
and desiring my Remarks and Corrections.—These I gave him
from time to time, but endeavour'd rather to discourage his
Proceeding. One of Young's Satires was then just publish'd.
I copy'd and sent him a great Part of it, which set in a strong
Light the Folly of pursuing the Muses with any Hope of Advancement
by them. All was in vain. Sheets of the Poem continu'd
to come by every Post. In the mean time Mrs. T. having
on his Account lost her Friends and Business, was often in Distresses,
and us'd to send for me, and borrow what I could spare
to help her out of them. I grew fond of her Company, and being[43]
at this time under no Religious Restraints, and presuming on
my Importance to her, I attempted Familiarities, (another Erratum)
which she repuls'd with a proper Resentment, and acquainted
him with my Behaviour. This made a Breach between
us, and when he return'd again to London, he let me know he
thought I had cancell'd all the Obligations he had been under
to me.—So I found I was never to expect his Repaying me what
I lent to him or advanc'd for him. This was however not then
of much Consequence, as he was totally unable: And in the Loss
of his Friendship I found myself reliev'd from a Burthen. I now
began to think of getting a little Money beforehand; and expecting
better Work, I left Palmer's to work at Watts's near Lincoln's
Inn Fields, a still greater Printing House. Here I continu'd
all the rest of my Stay in London.
While I lodg'd in Little Britain I made an Acquaintance with
one Wilcox a Bookseller, whose Shop was at the next Door.
He had an immense Collection of second-hand Books. Circulating
Libraries were not then in Use; but we agreed that on certain
reasonable Terms which I have now forgotten, I might take,
read and return any of his Books. This I esteem'd a great Advantage,
and I made as much use of it as I could.—
My Pamphlet by some means falling into the Hands of one
Lyons, a Surgeon, Author of a Book intitled The Infallibility of
Human Judgment, it occasioned an Acquaintance between us; he
took great Notice of me, call'd on me often, to converse on
those Subjects, carried me to the Horns a pale Alehouse in ——
Lane, Cheapside, and introduc'd me to Dr. Mandevil[l]e, Author
of the Fable of the Bees who had a Club there, of which he
was the Soul, being a most facetious entertaining Companion.
Lyons too introduced me to Dr. Pemberton, at Batson's Coffee
House, who promis'd to give me an Opportunity some time or
other of seeing Sir Isaac Newton, of which I was extreamly desirous;
but this never happened.
I had brought over a few Curiosities among which the principal
was a Purse made of the Asbestos, which purifies by Fire.
Sir Hans Sloane heard of it, came to see me, and invited me to his
House in Bloomsbury Square; where he show'd me all his[44]
Curiosities, and persuaded me to let him add that to the Number,
for which he paid me handsomely.[4]—
At my first Admission into this Printing House, I took to
working at Press, imagining I felt a Want of the Bodily Exercise
I had been us'd to in America, where Presswork is mix'd
with Composing, I drank only Water, the other Workmen,
near 50 in Number, were great Guzzlers of Beer. On occasion I
carried up and down Stairs a large Form of Types in each hand,
when others carried but one in both Hands. They wonder'd to
see from this and several Instances that the water-American as
they call'd me was stronger than themselves who drank strong
beer. We had an Alehouse Boy who attended always in the
House to supply the Workmen. My Companion at the Press,
drank every day a Pint before Breakfast, a Pint at Breakfast with
his Bread and Cheese; a Pint between Breakfast and Dinner; a
Pint at Dinner; a Pint in the Afternoon about Six o'Clock, and
another when he had done his Day's-Work. I thought it a detestable
Custom.—But it was necessary, he suppos'd, to drink
strong Beer that he might be strong to labour. I endeavour'd to
convince him that the Bodily Strength afforded by Beer could
only be in proportion to the Grain or Flour of the Barley dissolved
in the Water of which it was made; that there was more
Flour in a Penny-worth of Bread, and therefore if he would eat
that with a Pint of Water, it would give him more Strength than
a Quart of Beer.—He drank on however, and had 4 or 5 Shillings
to pay out of his Wages every Saturday Night for that
muddling Liquor; an Expence I was free from.—And thus these
poor Devils keep themselves always under.
Watts after some Weeks desiring to have me in the Composing-Room,
I left the Pressmen. A new Bienvenu or Sum for
Drink; being 5/, was demanded of me by the Compositors. I
thought it an Imposition, as I had paid below. The Master
thought so too, and forbad[e] my Paying it. I stood out two or
three Weeks, was accordingly considered as an Excommunicate,
and had so many little Pieces of private Mischief done me, by
mixing my Sorts, transposing my Pages, breaking my Matter,
etc. etc. and if I were ever so little out of the Room, and all[45]
ascrib'd to the Chapel Ghost, which they said ever haunted
those not regularly admitted, that notwithstanding the Master's
Protection, I found myself oblig'd to comply and pay the
Money; convinc'd of the Folly of being on ill Terms with those
one is to live with continually. I was now on a fair Footing with
them, and soon acquir'd considerable Influence. I propos'd
some reasonable Alterations in their Chapel[C] Laws, and carried
them against all Opposition. From my Example a great Part of
them, left their muddling Breakfast of Beer and Bread and
Cheese, finding they could with me be supply'd from a neighbouring
House with a large Porringer of hot Water-gruel,
sprinkled with Pepper, crumb'd with Bread, and a Bit of Butter
in it, for the Price of a Pint of Beer, viz., three halfpence. This
was a more comfortable as well as cheaper Breakfast, and kept
their Heads clearer.—Those who continu'd sotting with Beer
all day, were often, by not paying, out of Credit at the Alehouse,
and us'd to make Interest with me to get Beer, their Light, as
they phras'd it, being out. I watch'd the Pay table on Saturday
Night, and collected what I stood engag'd for them, having to
pay some times near Thirty Shillings a Week on their Accounts.—This,
and my being esteem'd a pretty good Riggite, that is a
jocular verbal Satyrist, supported my Consequence in the Society.—My
constant Attendance, (I never making a St. Monday),
recommended me to the Master; and my uncommon Quickness
at Composing, occasion'd my being put upon all Work of Dispatch
which was generally better paid. So I went on now very
agreably.—
My Lodging in Little Britain being too remote, I found another
in Duke-street opposite to the Romish Chapel. It was
two pair of Stairs backwards at an Italian Warehouse. A Widow
Lady kept the House; she had a Daughter and a Maid Servant,
and a Journey-man who attended the Warehouse, but lodg'd
abroad. After sending to enquire my Character at the House
where I last lodg'd, she agreed to take me in at the same Rate 3/6
p[er] Week, cheaper as she said from the Protection she expected[46]
in having a Man lodge in the House. She was a Widow,
an elderly Woman, had been bred a Protestant, being a Clergyman's
Daughter, but was converted to the Catholic Religion by
her Husband, whose Memory she much revered[;] had lived much
among People of Distinction, and knew a 1000 Anecdotes of
them as far back as the Times of Charles the Second. She was
lame in her Knees with the Gout, and therefore seldom stirr'd
out of her Room, so sometimes wanted Company; and hers was
so highly amusing [Franklin first wrote "agreable"; both it and
"amusing" are deleted in the MS.] to me; that I was sure to
spend an Evening with her whenever she desired it. Our Supper
was only half an Anchovy each, on a very little Strip of Bread
and Butter, and half a Pint of Ale between us. But the Entertainment
was in her Conversation. My always keeping good
Hours, and giving little Trouble in the Family, made her unwilling
to part with me; so that when I talk'd of a Lodging I had
heard of, nearer my Business, for 2/ a Week, which, intent as I
now was on saving Money, made some Difference; she bid me
not think of it, for she would abate me two Shillings a Week for
the future, so I remain'd with her at 1/6 as long as I staid in
London.—
In a Garret of her House there lived a Maiden Lady of 70 in
the most retired Manner, of whom my Landlady gave me this
Account, that she was a Roman Catholic, had been sent abroad
when young and lodg'd in a Nunnery with an Intent of becoming
a Nun: but the Country not agreeing with her, she return'd
to England, where there being no Nunnery, she had vow'd to
lead the Life of a Nun as near as might be done in those Circumstances:
Accordingly she had given all her Estate to charitable
Uses, reserving only Twelve Pounds a Year to live on, and out
of this Sum she still gave a great deal in Charity, living herself
on Watergruel only, and using no Fire but to boil it.—She had
lived many Years in that Garret, being permitted to remain there
gratis by successive Catholic Tenants of the House below, as
they deem'd it a Blessing to have her there. A Priest visited her,
to confess her every Day. I have ask'd her, says my Landlady,
how she, as she liv'd, could possibly find so much Employment[47]
for a Confessor? O, says she, it is impossible to avoid vain
Thoughts. I was permitted once to visit her: She was chearful
and polite, and convers'd pleasantly. The Room was clean, but
had no other Furniture than a Matras, a Table with a Crucifix
and Book, a Stool, which she gave me to sit on, and a Picture
over the Chimney of St. Veronica, displaying her Handkerchief
with the miraculous Figure of Christ's bleeding Face on it,
which she explain'd to me with great Seriousness. She look'd
pale, but was never sick, and I give it as another Instance on
how small an Income Life and Health may be supported.
At Watts's Printinghouse I contracted an Acquaintance with
an ingenious young Man, one Wygate, who having wealthy
Relations, had been better educated than most Printers, was a
tolerable Latinist, spoke French, and lov'd Reading. I taught
him and a Friend of his, to swim, at twice going into the River,
and they soon became good Swimmers. They introduc'd me to
some Gentlemen from the Country who went to Chelsea by
Water to see the College and Don Saltero's Curiosities.[5] In our
Return, at the Request of the Company, whose Curiosity Wygate
had excited, I stript and leapt into the River, and swam from
near Chelsea to Blackfryars, performing on the Way many
Feats of Activity both upon and under Water, that surpriz'd
and pleas'd those to whom they were Novelties.—I had from a
Child been ever delighted with this Exercise, had studied and
practis'd all Thevenot's Motions and Positions, added some of
my own, aiming at the graceful and easy, as well as the Useful.
All these I took this Occasion of exhibiting to the Company,
and was much flatter'd by their Admiration.—And Wygate, who
was desirous of becoming a Master, grew more and more attach'd
to me, on that account, as well as from the Similarity of
our Studies. He at length propos'd to me travelling all over
Europe together, supporting ourselves everywhere by working
at our Business. I was once inclin'd to it. But mentioning it to
my good Friend Mr. Denham, with whom I often spent an
Hour, when I had Leisure. He dissuaded me from it, advising
me to think only of returning to Pensilvania, which he was now
about to do.[48]
I must record one Trait of this good Man's Character. He
had formerly been in Business at Bristol, but fail'd in Debt to a
Number of People, compounded and went to America. There,
by a close Application to Business as a Merchant, he acquir'd a
plentiful Fortune in a few Years. Returning to England in the
Ship with me, He invited his old Creditors to an Entertainment,
at which he thank'd them for the easy Composition they had
favour'd him with, and when they expected nothing but the
Treat, every Man at the first Remove, found under his Plate an
Order on a Banker for the full Amount of the unpaid Remainder
with Interest.
He now told me he was about to return to Philadelphia, and
should carry over a great Quantity of Goods in order to open a
Store there: He propos'd to take me over as his Clerk, to keep
his Books (in which he would instruct me) copy his Letters,
and attend the Store. He added, that as soon as I should be acquainted
with mercantile Business he would promote me by
sending me with a Cargo of Flour and Bread etc to the West
Indies, and procure me Commissions from others; which would
be profitable, and if I manag'd well, would establish me handsomely.
The Thing pleas'd me, for I was grown tired of London,
remember'd with Pleasure the happy Months I had spent in
Pennsylvania, and wish'd again to see it. Therefore I immediately
agreed, on the Terms of Fifty Pounds a Year, Pensylvania
Money less indeed than my then present Gettings as a Compositor,
but affording a better Prospect.—
I now took leave of Printing; as I thought for ever, and was
daily employ'd in my new Business; going about with Mr. Denham
among the Tradesmen, to purchase various Articles, and
seeing them pack'd up, doing Errands, calling upon Workmen
to dispatch, etc. and when all was on board, I had a few Days
Leisure. On one of these Days I was to my Surprise sent for by
a great Man I knew only by Name, a Sir William Wyndham and
I waited upon him. He had heard by some means or other of
my Swimming from Chelsey to Blackfryars, and of my teaching
Wygate and another young Man to swim in a few Hours. He
had two Sons about to set out on their Travels; he wish'd to[49]
have them first taught Swimming; and propos'd to gratify me
handsomely if I would teach them.—They were not yet come to
Town and my Stay was uncertain, so I could not undertake it.
But from this Incident I thought it likely, that if I were to remain
in England and open a Swimming School, I might get a
good deal of Money. And it struck me so strongly, that had
the Overture been sooner made me, probably I should not so
soon have returned to America.—After many Years, you and I
had something of more Importance to do with one of these Sons
of Sir William Wyndham, become Earl of Egremont, which I
shall mention in its Place.—[This promise Franklin did not fulfill.]
Thus I spent about 18 Months in London. Most Part of the
Time, I work'd hard at my Business, and spent but little upon
myself except in seeing Plays, and in Books.—My Friend Ralph
had kept me poor. He owed me about 27 Pounds; which I was
now never likely to receive; a great Sum out of my small Earnings.
I lov'd him notwithstanding, for he had many amiable
Qualities.—Tho' I had by no means improv'd my Fortune.
But I had pick'd up some very ingenious Acquaintance whose
Conversation was of great Advantage to me, and I had read
considerably.
We sail'd from Gravesend on the 23d of July 1726. For the
Incidents of the Voyage, I refer you to my Journal, where you
will find them all minutely related. Perhaps the most important
Part of that Journal is the Plan [This Plan is not found in the
Journal printed in Writings, II, 53-86.] to be found in it which I
formed at Sea, for regulating my future Conduct in Life. It is
the more remarkable, as being formed when I was so young,
and yet being pretty faithfully adhered to quite thro' to old Age.—We
landed in Philadelphia on the 11th of October, where I
found sundry Alterations. Keith was no longer Governor, being
superceded by Major Gordon: I met him walking the Streets as
a common Citizen. He seem'd a little asham'd at seeing me, but
pass'd without saying any thing. I should have been as much
asham'd at seeing Miss Read, had not her Frds, despairing with
Reason of my Return, after the Receipt of my Letter, persuaded[50]
her to marry another, one Rogers, a Potter, which was done in
my Absence. With him however she was never happy, and soon
parted from him, refusing to cohabit with him, or bear his
Name[,] it being now said that he had another Wife. He was a
worthless Fellow tho' an excellent Workman[,] which was the
Temptation to her Friends. He got into Debt, ran away in 1727
or 28. and went to the West Indies, and died there. Keimer had
got a better House, a Shop well supply'd with Stationary[,] plenty
of new Types, a number of Hands tho' none good, and seem'd
to have a great deal of Business.
Mr. Denham took a Store in Water Street, where we open'd
our Goods. I attended the Business diligently, studied Accounts,
and grew in a little Time expert at selling. We lodg'd
and boarded together, he counsell'd me as a Father, having a
sincere Regard for me: I respected and lov'd him: and we might
have gone on together very happily: But in the Beginning of
Feby 172-6/7 when I had just pass'd my 21st Year, we both were
taken ill. My Distemper was a Pleurisy, which very nearly carried
me off:—I suffered a good deal, gave up the Point in my
own mind, and was rather disappointed when I found my Self
recovering; regretting in some degree that I must now some time
or other have all that disagreeable Work to do over again.—I
forget what his Distemper was. It held him a long time, and at
length carried him off. He left me a small Legacy in a nuncupative
Will, as a Token of his Kindness for me, and he left me once
more to the wide World. For the Store was taken into the Care
of his Executors, and my Employment under him ended:—My
Brother-in-law Holmes, being now at Philadelphia, advised my
Return to my Business. And Keimer tempted me with an Offer
of large Wages by the Year to come and take the Management of
his Printing-House, that he might better attend his Stationer's
Shop.—I had heard a bad Character of him in London, from his
Wife and her Friends, and was not fond of having any more to
do with him. I try'd for farther Employment as a Merchant's
Clerk; but not readily meeting with any, I clos'd again with
Keimer.—
I found in his House these Hands; Hugh Meredith a Welsh-Pensilvanian,[51]
30 Years of Age, bred to Country Work: honest,
sensible, had a great deal of solid Observation, was something
of a Reader, but given to drink: Stephen Potts, a young Country
Man of full Age, bred to the Same:—of uncommon natural
Parts, and great Wit and Humour, but a little idle. These he
had agreed with at extream low Wages, p[er] Week, to be
rais'd a Shilling every 3 Months, as they would deserve by improving
in their Business, and the Expectation of these high
Wages to come on hereafter was what he had drawn them in
with. Meredith was to work at Press, Potts at Bookbinding,
which he by Agreement, was to teach them, tho' he knew neither
one nor t'other. John —— a wild Irishman brought up to no
Business, whose Service for 4 Years Keimer had purchas'd from
the Captain of a Ship. He too was to be made a Pressman.
George Webb, an Oxford Scholar, whose Time for 4 Years he
had likewise bought, intending him for a Compositor: of whom
more presently. And David Harry, a Country Boy, whom he
had taken Apprentice. I soon perceiv'd that the Intention of
engaging me at Wages so much higher than he had been us'd to
give, was to have these raw cheap Hands form'd thro' me, and
as soon as I had instructed them, then, they being all articled to
him, he should be able to do without me.—I went on however,
very chearfully; put his Printing House in Order, which had
been in great Confusion, and brought his Hands by degrees to
mind their Business and to do it better.
It was an odd Thing to find an Oxford Scholar in the Situation
of a bought Servant. He was not more than 18 Years of
Age, and gave me this Account of himself; that he was born in
Gloucester, educated at a Grammar School there, had been distinguish'd
among the Scholars for some apparent Superiority in
performing his Part when they exhibited Plays; belong'd to the
Witty Club there, and had written some Pieces in Prose and
Verse which were printed in the Gloucester Newspapers.—Thence
he was sent to Oxford; where he continu'd about a Year,
but not well-satisfy'd, wishing of all things to see London and
become a Player. At length receiving his Quarterly Allowance
of 15 Guineas, instead of discharging his Debts, he walk'd out of[52]
Town, hid his Gown in a Furz Bush, and footed it to London,
where having no Friend to advise him, he fell into bad Company,
soon spent his Guineas, found no means of being introduc'd
among the Players, grew necessitous, pawn'd his Cloaths
and wanted Bread. Walking the Street very hungry, and not
knowing what to do with himself, a Crimp's Bill was put into
his Hand, offering immediate Entertainment and Encouragement
to such as would bind themselves to serve in America. He
went directly, sign'd the Indentures, was put into the Ship and
came over; never writing a Line to acquaint his Friends what
was become of him. He was lively, witty, good-natur'd, and
a pleasant Companion, but idle, thoughtless and imprudent to
the last Degree.
John the Irishman soon ran away. With the rest I began to
live very agreably; for they all respected me, the more as they
found Keimer incapable of instructing them, and that from me
they learnt something daily. We never work'd on a Saturday,
that being Keimer's Sabbath. So I had two Days for Reading.—My
Acquaintance with ingenious People in the Town, increased.
Keimer himself treated me with great Civility, and apparent
Regard; and nothing now made me uneasy but my Debt
to Vernon, which I was yet unable to pay being hitherto but a
poor Oeconomist. He however kindly made no Demand of it.
Our Printing-House often wanted Sorts, and there was no
Letter Founder in America. I had seen Types cast at James's in
London, but without much Attention to the Manner: However
I now contriv'd a Mould, made use of the Letters we had, as
Puncheons, struck the Matrices in Lead, and thus supply'd in a
pretty tolerable way all Deficiencies. I also engrav'd several
Things on occasion. I made the Ink, I was Warehouse-man
and every thing, in short quite a Factotum.—
But however serviceable I might be, I found that my Services
became every Day of less Importance, as the other Hands improv'd
in the Business. And when Keimer paid my second
Quarter's Wages, he let me know that he felt them too heavy,
and thought I should make an Abatement. He grew by degrees
less civil, put on more of the Master, frequently found Fault,[53]
was captious and seem'd ready for an Out-breaking. I went on
nevertheless with a good deal of Patience, thinking that his incumber'd
Circumstances were partly the Cause. At length a
Trifle snapt our Connexion. For a great Noise happening near
the Courthouse, I put my Head out of the Window to see what
was the Matter. Keimer being in the Street look'd up and saw
me, call'd out to me in a loud voice and angry Tone to mind my
Business, adding some reproachful Words, that nettled me the
more for their Publicity, all the Neighbours who were looking
out on the same Occasion being Witnesses how I was treated.
He came up immediately into the Printing-House, continu'd the
Quarrel, high Words pass'd on both Sides, he gave me the
Quarter's Warning we had stipulated, expressing a Wish that he
had not been oblig'd to so long a Warning: I told him his Wish
was unnecessary for I would leave him that Instant; and so taking
my Hat walk'd out of Doors; desiring Meredith whom I saw
below to take care of some Things I left, and bring them to my
Lodging.—
Meredith came accordingly in the Evening, when we talk'd
my Affair over. He had conceiv'd a great Regard for me, and
was very unwilling that I should leave the House while he remain'd
in it. He dissuaded me from returning to my native
Country which I began to think of. He reminded me that Keimer
was in debt for all he possess'd, that his Creditors began to
be uneasy, that he kept his Shop miserably, sold often without
Profit for ready Money, and often trusted without keeping Accounts.
That he must therefore fail; which would make a Vacancy
I might profit of.—I objected my Want of Money. He
then let me know, that his Father had a high Opinion of me, and
from some Discourse that had pass'd between them, he was sure
would advance Money to set us up, if I would enter into Partner
Ship with him. My Time, says he, will be out with Keimer in
the Spring. By that time we may have our Press and Types in
from London: I am sensible I am no Workman. If you like it,
Your Skill in the Business shall be set against the Stock I furnish;
and we will share the Profits equally.—The Proposal was agreable,
and I consented. His Father was in Town, and approv'd[54]
of it, the more as he saw I had great Influence with his Son, had
prevail'd on him to abstain long from Dramdrinking, and he
hop'd might break him of that wretched Habit entirely, when
we came to be so closely connected. I gave an Inventory to the
Father, who carry'd it to a Merchant; the Things were sent for;
the Secret was to be kept till they should arrive, and in the mean
time I was to get work if I could at the other Printing House.
But I found no Vacancy there, and so remain'd idle a few Days,
when Keimer, on a Prospect of being employ'd to print some
Paper-Money, in New Jersey, which would require Cuts and
various Types that I only could supply, and apprehending
Bradford might engage me and get the Jobb from him, sent me
a very civil Message, that old Friends should not part for a few
Words the Effect of sudden Passion, and wishing me to return.
Meredith persuaded me to comply, as it would give more Opportunity
for his Improvement under my daily Instructions.—So
I return'd, and we went on more smoothly than for some time
before. The New Jersey Jobb was obtained. I contriv'd a Copper-Plate
Press for it, the first that had been seen in the Country.
I cut several Ornaments and Checks for the Bills. We went together
to Burlington, where I executed the Whole to Satisfaction,
and he received so large a Sum for the Work, as to
be enabled thereby to keep his Head much longer above
Water.
At Burlington I made an Acquaintance with many principal
People of the Province. Several of them had been appointed by
the Assembly a Committee to attend the Press, and take Care
that no more Bills were printed than the Law directed. They
were therefore by Turns constantly with us, and generally he
who attended brought with him a Friend or two for Company.
My Mind having been much more improv'd by Reading than
Keimer's, I suppose it was for that Reason my Conversation
seem'd to be more valu'd. They had me to their Houses, introduc'd
me to their Friends and show'd me much Civility, while
he, tho' the Master, was a little neglected. In truth he was an
odd Fish, ignorant of common Life, fond of rudely opposing receiv'd
Opinions, slovenly to extream dirtiness, enthusiastic in[55]
some Points of Religion, and a little Knavish withal. We continu'd
there near 3 Months, and by that time I could reckon
among my acquired Friends, Judge Allen, Samuel Bustill, the
Secretary of the Province, Isaac Pearson, Joseph Cooper and
several of the Smiths, Members of Assembly, and Isaac Decow
the Surveyor General. The latter was a shrewd sagacious old
Man, who told me that he began for himself when young by
wheeling Clay for the Brickmakers, learnt to write after he was
of Age, carry'd the Chain for Surveyors, who taught him Surveying,
and he had now by his Industry acquir'd a good Estate;
and says he, I foresee, that you will soon work this Man out of
his Business and make a Fortune in it at Philadelphia. He had
not then the least Intimation of my Intention to set up there or
any where. These Friends were afterwards of great use to me,
as I occasionally was to some of them. They all continued their
Regard for me as long as they lived.—
Before I enter upon my public Appearance in Business it may
be well to let you know the then State of my Mind, with regard
to my Principles and Morals, that you may see how far those
influenc'd the future Events of my Life. My Parent's [sic] had
early given me religious Impressions, and brought me through
my Childhood piously in the Dissenting Way. But I was scarce
15 when, after doubting by turns of several Points as I found
them disputed in the different Books I read, I began to doubt of
Revelation it self. Some Books against Deism fell into my
Hands; they were said to be the Substance of Sermons preached
at Boyle's Lectures. It happened that they wrought an Effect on
me quite contrary to what was intended by them: For the Arguments
of the Deists which were quoted to be refuted, appeared
to me much Stronger than the Refutations. In short I soon became
a thorough Deist. My Arguments perverted some others,
particularly Collins and Ralph: but each of them having afterwards
wrong'd me greatly without the least Compunction and
recollecting Keith's Conduct towards me, (who was another
Freethinker) and my own towards Vernon and Miss Read,
which at Times gave me great Trouble, I began to suspect that
this Doctrine tho' it might be true, was not very useful.—My[56]
London Pamphlet, which had for its Motto these Lines of
Dryden
Whatever is, is right. Tho' purblind Man
Sees but a Part of the Chain, the nearest Link,
His Eyes not carrying to the equal Beam,
That poises all, above.
And from the Attributes of God, his infinite Wisdom, Goodness
and Power concluded that nothing could possibly be
wrong in the World, and that Vice and Virtue were empty Distinctions,
no such Things existing: appear'd now not so clever a
Performance as I once thought it; and I doubted whether some
Error had not insinuated itself unperceiv'd, into my Argument,
so as to infect all that follow'd, as is common in metaphysical
Reasonings.—I grew convinc'd that Truth, Sincerity and Integrity
in Dealings between Man and Man, were of the utmost
Importance to the Felicity of Life, and I form'd written Resolutions,
(wch still remain in my Journal Book) to practice them
everwhile I lived. Revelation had indeed no weight with me as
such; but I entertain'd an Opinion, that tho' certain Actions
might not be bad because they were forbidden by it, or good because
it commanded them; yet probably those Actions might be
forbidden because they were bad for us, or commanded because
they were beneficial to us, in their own Natures, all the Circumstances
of things considered. And this Persuasion, with the
kind hand of Providence, or some guardian Angel, or accidental
favourable Circumstances and Situations, or all together, preserved
me (thro' this dangerous Time of Youth and the hazardous
Situations I was sometimes in among Strangers, remote
from the Eye and Advice of my Father) without any wilful
gross Immorality or Injustice that might have been expected
from my Want of Religion. I say wilful, because the Instances I
have mentioned, had something of Necessity in them, from my
Youth, Inexperience, and the Knavery of others. I had therefore
a tolerable Character to begin the World with, I valued it
properly, and determin'd to preserve it.—
We had not been long return'd to Philadelphia, before the[57]
New Types arriv'd from London. We settled with Keimer, and
left him by his Consent before he heard of it.—We found a
House to hire near the Market, and took it. To lessen the Rent,
(which was then but 24£ a Year tho' I have since known it let
for 70) We took in Tho' Godfrey a Glazier and his Family, who
were to pay a considerable Part of it to us, and we to board with
them. We had scarce opened our Letters and put our Press in
Order, before George House, an Acquaintance of mine, brought
a Countryman to us, whom he had met in the Street enquiring
for a Printer. All our Cash was now expended in the Variety of
Particulars we had been obliged to procure and this Countryman's
Five Shillings being our first Fruits, and coming so seasonably,
gave me more Pleasure than any Crown I have since
earned; and from the Gratitude I felt towards House, has made
me often more ready, than perhaps I should otherwise have been
to assist young Beginners.
There are Croakers in every Country always boding its Ruin.
Such a one then lived in Philadelphia, a Person of Note, an elderly
Man, with a wise Look, and very grave Manner of speaking.
His Name was Samuel Mickle. This Gentleman, a Stranger
to me, stopt one Day at my Door, and asked me if I was the
young Man who had lately opened a new Printing House: Being
answered in the Affirmative, he said he was sorry for me, because
it was an expensive Undertaking and the Expence would
be lost; for Philadelphia was a sinking Place, the People already
half Bankrupts or near being so; all Appearances to the contrary,
such as hew Buildings and the Rise of Rents being to his certain
Knowledge fallacious; for they were in fact among the Things
that would soon ruin us.—And he gave me such a Detail of
Misfortunes, now existing or that were soon to exist, that he left
me half melancholy. Had I known him before I engaged in this
Business, probably I never should have done it.—This Man
continued to live in this decaying Place; and to declaim in the
same Strain, refusing for many Years to buy a House there, because
all was going to Destruction, and at last I had the Pleasure
of seeing him give five times as much for one as he might have
bought it for, when he first began his Croaking.[58]
I should have mentioned before, that in the Autumn of the
proceeding Year I had formed most of my ingenious Acquaintance
into a Club of mutual Improvement, which we called the
Junto. We met on Friday Evenings. The Rules I drew up required
that every Member in his Turn should produce one or
more Queries on any Point of Morals, Politics or Natural
Philosophy, to be discussed by the Company, and once in three
Months produce and read an Essay of his own Writing on any
Subject he pleased. Our Debates were to be under the Direction
of a President and to be conducted in the sincere Spirit of Enquiry
after Truth, without Fondness for Dispute, or Desire of
Victory; and to prevent Warmth all Expressions of Positiveness
in Opinions or direct Contradiction, were after some time made
contraband and prohibited under small pecuniary Penalties.—The
first Members were Joseph Breintnal,[6] a Copyer of Deeds
for the Scriveners; a good-natur'd friendly middle-ag'd Man, a
great Lover of Poetry, reading all he could meet with, and writing
some that was tolerable; very ingenious in many little Nicknackeries,
and of sensible Conversation. Thomas Godfrey,[7] a
self-taught Mathematician, great in his Way, and afterwards Inventor
of what is now call'd Hadley's Quadrant. But he knew
little out of his way, and was not a pleasing Companion, as like
most Great Mathematicians I have met with, he expected universal
Precision in every thing said, or was forever denying or
distinguishing upon Trifles, to the Disturbance of all Conversation.
He soon left us. Nicholas Scull, a Surveyor, afterwards
Surveyor-General, who lov'd Books, and sometimes made a few
Verses. William Parsons,[8] bred a Shoemaker, but loving Reading,
had acquir'd a considerable Share of Mathematics, which he
first studied with a View to Astrology that he afterwards laught
at. He also became Surveyor General. William Maugridge, a
Joiner, a most exquisite Mechanic and a solid sensible Man.
Hugh Meredith, Stephen Potts, and George Webb, I have Characteris'd
before. Robert Grace, a young Gentleman of some
Fortune, generous, lively and witty, a Lover of Punning and of
his Friends. And William Coleman, then a Merchant's Clerk,
about my Age, who had the coolest clearest Head, the best[59]
Heart, and the exactest Morals, of almost any Man I ever met
with. He became afterwards a Merchant of great Note, and one
of our Provincial Judges. Our Friendship continued without
Interruption to his death upwards of 40 Years. And the club
continu'd almost as long[,] and was the best School of Philosophy,
and Politics that then existed in the Province; for our Queries
which were read the Week preceding their Discussion, put
us on reading with Attention upon the several Subjects, that we
might speak more to the purpose: and here too we acquired better
Habits of Conversation, every thing being studied in our
Rules which might prevent our disgusting each other. From
hence the long Continuance of the Club, which I shall have frequent
Occasion to speak farther of hereafter; But my giving this
Account of it here, is to show something of the Interest I had,
every one of these exerting themselves in recommending Business
to us.—Brientnal particularly procur'd us from the Quakers,
the Printing 40 Sheets of their History [William Sewel's],
the rest being to be done by Keimer: and upon this we work'd
exceeding hard, for the Price was low. It was a Folio, Pro
Patria Size, in Pica with Long Primer Notes. I compos'd of it a
Sheet a Day, and Meredith work'd it off at Press. It was often 11
at Night and sometimes later, before I had finish'd my Distribution
for the next days Work: For the little Jobbs sent in by our
other Friends now and then put us back. But so determin'd I
was to continue doing a Sheet a Day of the Folio, that one Night
when having impos'd my Forms, I thought my Days Work
over, one of them by accident was broken and two Pages reduc'd
to pie, I immediately distributed and compos'd it over again before
I went to bed. And this Industry visible to our Neighbours
began to give us Character and Credit; particularly I was told,
that mention being made of the new Printing Office at the Merchants
every-night Club, the general Opinion was that it must
fail, there being already two Printers in the Place, Keimer and
Bradford; but Dr. Baird (whom you and I saw many Years
after at his native Place, St. Andrews in Scotland) gave a contrary
Opinion; for the Industry of that Franklin, says he, is
superior to any thing I ever saw of the kind: I see him still at[60]
work when I go home from Club; and he is at Work
again before his Neighbours are out of bed. This struck the
rest, and we soon after had Offers from one of them to Supply
us with Stationary. But as yet we did not chuse to engage in
Shop Business.
I mention this Industry the more particularly and the more
freely, tho' it seems to be talking in my own Praise, that those of
my Posterity who shall read it, may know the Use of that Virtue,
when they see its Effects in my Favour throughout this
Relation.—
George Webb, who had found a Friend that lent him wherewith
to purchase his Time of Keimer, now came to offer himself
as a Journeyman to us. We could not then imploy him, but I
foolishly let him know, as a Secret, that I soon intended to begin
a Newspaper, and might then have Work for him. My Hopes of
Success as I told him were founded on this, that the then only
Newspaper [the American Weekly Mercury], printed by Bradford
was a paltry thing, wretchedly manag'd, no way entertaining;
and yet was profitable to him.—I therefore thought a good
Paper could scarcely fail of good Encouragemt. I requested
Webb not to mention it, but he told it to Keimer, who immediately,
to be beforehand with me, published Proposals for Printing
one himself, on which Webb was to be employ'd.—I resented
this, and to counteract them, as I could not yet begin our
Paper, I wrote several Pieces of Entertainment for Bradford's
Paper, under the Title of the Busy Body which Brientnal continu'd
some Months. By this means the Attention of the Publick
was fix'd on that Paper, and Keimer's Proposals which we
burlesqu'd and ridicul'd, were disregarded. He began his Paper[9]
however, and after carrying it on three Quarters of a Year, with
at most only 90 Subscribers, he offer'd it to me for a Trifle, and I
having been ready some time to go on with it, took it in hand
directly, and it prov'd in a few years extreamly profitable to me.
I perceive that I am apt to speak in the singular Number,
though our Partnership still continu'd. The Reason may be,
that in fact the whole Management of the Business lay upon me.
Meredith was no Compositor, a poor Pressman, and seldom[61]
sober. My Friends lamented my Connection with him, but I
was to make the best of it.
Our first Papers made a quite different Appearance from any
before in the Province, a better Type and better printed [In MS
is found: "Insert these Remarks, in a Note."]: but some spirited
Remarks of my Writing on the Dispute then going on between
Govr Burnet and the Massachusetts Assembly, struck the principal
People, occasion'd the Paper and the Manager of it to be
much talk'd of, and in a few Weeks brought them all to be our
Subscribers. Their Example was follow'd by many, and our
Number went on growing continually.—This was one of the
first good Effects of my having learnt a little to scribble. Another
was, that the leading Men, seeing a News Paper now in the
hands of one who could also handle a Pen, thought it convenient
to oblige and encourage me. Bradford still printed the Votes and
Laws and other Publick Business. He had printed an Address of
the House to the Governor in a coarse blundering manner; We
reprinted it elegantly and correctly, and sent one to every Member.
They were sensible of the Difference, it strengthen'd the
Hands of our Friends in the House, and they voted us their
Printers for the Year ensuing.
Among my Friends in the House I must not forget Mr. Hamilton
before mentioned, who was then returned from England
and had a Seat in it. He interested himself for me strongly in
that Instance, as he did in many others afterwards, continuing
his Patronage till his Death.[D] Mr Vernon about this time put me
in mind of the Debt I ow'd him: but did not press me. I wrote
him an ingenuous Letter of Acknowledgments, crav'd his Forbearance
a little longer which he allow'd me, and as soon as I
was able I paid the Principal with Interest and many Thanks.—So
that Erratum was in some degree corrected.—
But now another Difficulty came upon me, which I had never
the least Reason to expect. Mr. Meredith's Father, who was to
have paid for our Printing House according to the Expectations
given me, was able to advance only one Hundred Pounds, Currency,
which had been paid, and a Hundred more was due to the[62]
Merchant; who grew impatient and su'd us all. We gave Bail,
but saw that if the Money could not be rais'd in time, the Suit
must come to a Judgment and Execution, and our hopeful Prospects
must with us be ruined, as the Press and Letters must be
sold for Payment, perhaps at half Price.—In this Distress two
true Friends whose Kindness I have never forgotten nor ever
shall forget while I can remember any thing, came to me separately[,]
unknown to each other, and without any Application
from me, offering each of them to advance me all the Money
that should be necessary to enable me to take the whole Business
upon myself if that should be practicable, but they did not like
my continuing the Partnership with Meredith, who as they said
was often seen drunk in the Streets, and playing at low Games in
Alehouses, much to our Discredit. These two Friends were
William Coleman and Robert Grace. I told them I could not propose
a Separation while any Prospect remain'd of the Merediths
fulfilling their Part of our Agreement. Because I thought myself
under great Obligations to them for what they had done
and would do if they could. But if they finally fail'd in their
Performance, and our Partnership must be dissolv'd, I should
then think myself at Liberty to accept the Assistance of my
Friends. Thus the matter rested for some time. When I said to
my Partner, perhaps your Father is dissatisfied at the Part you
have undertaken in this Affair of ours, and is unwilling to advance
for you and me what he would for you alone: If that is
the Case, tell me, and I will resign the whole to you and go
about my Business. No[,] says he, my Father has really been
disappointed and is really unable; and I am unwilling to distress
him farther. I see this is a Business I am not fit for. I was bred a
Farmer, and it was a Folly in me to come to Town and put my
Self at 30 Years of Age an Apprentice to learn a new Trade.
Many of our Welsh People are going to settle in North Carolina
where Land is cheap: I am inclin'd to go with them, and following
my old Employment. You may find Friends to assist you.
If you will take the Debts of the Company upon you, return to
my Father the hundred Pound he has advanc'd, pay my little
personal Debts, and give me Thirty Pounds and a new Saddle,[63]
I will relinquish the Partnership and leave the whole in your
Hands. I agreed to this Proposal. It was drawn up in Writing,
sign'd and seal'd immediately. I gave him what he demanded
and he went soon after to Carolina; from whence he sent me
next Year two long Letters, containing the best Account that
had been given of that Country, the Climate, Soil, Husbandry,
etc. for in those Matters he was very judicious. I printed them
in the Papers, and they gave grate Satisfaction to the Publick.
As soon as he was gone, I recurr'd to my two Friends; and
because I would not give an unkind Preference to either, I took
half what each had offered and I wanted, of one, and half of the
other; paid off the Company Debts, and went on with the Business
in my own Name, advertising that the Partnership was dissolved.
I think this was in or about the Year 1729 [July 14, 1730].—
About this Time there was a Cry among the People for more
Paper-Money, only 15,000£ being extant in the Province and
that soon to be sunk. The wealthy Inhabitants oppos'd any
Addition, being against all Paper Currency, from an Apprehension
that it would depreciate as it had done in New England to
the Prejudice of all Creditors.—We had discuss'd this Point in
our Junto, where I was on the Side of an Addition, being persuaded
that the first small Sum struck in 1723 had done much
good, by increasing the Trade[,] Employment, and Number of
Inhabitants in the Province, since I now saw all the old Houses
inhabited, and many new ones building, where as I remember'd
well, that when I first walk'd about the Streets of Philadelphia,
eating my Roll, I saw most of the Houses in Walnut Street between
Second and Front Streets with Bills on their Doors, to be
let; and many likewise in Chesnut Street, and other Streets;
which made me then think the Inhabitants of the City were deserting
it, one after another.—Our Debates possess'd me so fully
of the Subject, that I wrote and printed an anonymous Pamphlet
on it, entituled, The Nature and Necessity of a Paper Currency.
It was well receiv'd by the common People in general; but the
Rich Men dislik'd it; for it increas'd and strengthen'd the Clamour
for more Money; and they happening to have no Writers[64]
among them that were able to answer it, their Opposition slacken'd,
and the Point was carried by a Majority in the House. My
Friends there, who conceiv'd I had been of some Service,
thought fit to reward me, by employing me in printing the
Money, a very profitable Jobb, and a great Help to me.—This
was another Advantage gain'd by my being able to write[.] The
Utility of this Currency became by Time and Experience so evident,
as never afterwards to be much disputed, so that it grew
soon to 55,000£ and in 1739 to 80,000£ since which it arose
during War to upwards of 350,000£. Trade, Building and Inhabitants
all the while increasing. Tho' I now think there are
Limits beyond which the Quantity may be hurtful.—
I soon after obtain'd, thro' my Friend Hamilton, the Printing
of the New Castle Paper Money, another profitable Jobb, as I
then thought it; small Things appearing great to those in small
Circumstances. And these to me were really great Advantages,
as they were great Encouragements. He procured me also the
Printing of the Laws and Votes of that Government which continu'd
in my Hands as long as I follow'd the Business.—
I now open'd a little Stationer's Shop. I had in it Blanks of all
Sorts[,] the correctest that ever appear'd among us, being assisted
in that by my Friend Brientnal; I had also Paper, Parchment,
Chapmen's Books, etc. One Whitema[r]sh[,] a Compositor I had
known in London, an excellent Workman now came to me and
work'd with me constantly and diligently, and I took an Apprentice
the Son of Aquila Rose. I began now gradually to pay
off the Debt I was under for the Printing-House. In order to
secure my Credit and Character as a Tradesman, I took care not
only to be in Reality Industrious and frugal, but to avoid all
Appearances of the Contrary. I drest plainly; I was seen at no
Places of idle Diversion; I never went out a fishing or Shooting;
a Book, indeed, sometimes debauch'd me from my Work; but
that was seldom, snug, and gave no Scandal: and to show that I
was not above my Business, I sometimes brought home the Paper
I purchas'd at the Stores, thro' the Streets on a Wheelbarrow.
Thus being esteem'd an industrious thriving young Man,
and paying duly for what I bought, the Merchants who imported[65]
Stationary solicited my Custom, others propos'd supplying
me with Books, I went on swimmingly.—In the mean time
Keimer's Credit and Business declining daily, he was at last
forc'd to sell his Printing-house to satisfy his Creditors. He
went to Barbadoes, there lived some Years, in very poor Circumstances.
His Apprentice David Harry, whom I had instructed while I
work'd with him, set up in his place at Philadelphia, having
bought his Materials. I was at first apprehensive of a powerful
Rival in Harry, as his Friends were very able, and had a good
deal of Interest. I therefore propos'd a Partnership to him;
which he, fortunately for me, rejected with Scorn. He was very
proud, dress'd like a Gentleman, liv'd expensively, took much
Diversion and Pleasure abroad, ran in debt, and neglected his
Business, upon which all Business left him; and finding nothing
to do, he follow'd Keimer to Barbadoes; taking the Printing-house
with him[.] There this Apprentice employ'd his former
Master as a Journeyman. They quarrel'd often, Harry went
continually behindhand, and at length was forc'd to sell his
Types, and return to his Country work in Pensilvania. The
Person that bought them, employ'd Keimer to use them, but in
a few years he died. There remain'd now no Competitor with
me at Philadelphia, but the old one, Bradford, who was rich and
easy, did a little Printing now and then by straggling Hands, but
was not very anxious about it. However, as he kept the Post
Office, it was imagined he had better Opportunities of obtaining
News, his Paper was thought a better Distributer of Advertisements
than mine, and therefore had many more, which was a
profitable thing to him and a Disadvantage to me. For tho' I
did indeed receive and send Papers by Post, yet the publick
Opinion was otherwise; for what I did send was by Bribing the
Riders who took them privately: Bradford being unkind
enough to forbid it: which occasion'd some Resentment on my
Part; and I thought so meanly of him for it, that when I afterwards
came into his Situation, I took care never to imitate it.
I had hitherto continu'd to board with Godfrey who lived in
Part of my House with his Wife and Children, and had one[66]
Side of the Shop for his Glazier's Business, tho' he work'd little,
being always absorb'd in his Mathematics.—Mrs. Godfrey projected
a Match for me with a Relation's Daughter, took Opportunities
of bringing us often together, till a serious Courtship on
my Part ensu'd, the Girl being in herself very deserving. The
old Folks encourag'd me by continual Invitations to Supper,
and by leaving us together, till at length it was time to explain.
Mrs. Godfrey manag'd our little Treaty. I let her know that I
expected as much Money with their Daughter as would pay off
my Remaining Debt for the Printinghouse, which I believe was
not then above a Hundred Pounds. She brought me Word they
had no such Sum to spare. I said they might mortgage their
House in the Loan Office.—The Answer to this after some Days
was, that they did not approve the Match; that on Enquiry of
Bradford they had been inform'd the Printing Business was not
a profitable one, the Types would soon be worn out and more
wanted, that S. Keimer and D. Harry had fail'd one after the
other, and I should probably soon follow them; and therefore I
was forbidden the House, and the Daughter shut up.—Whether
this was a real Change of Sentiment, or only Artifice, on a Supposition
of our being too far engag'd in Affection to retract, and
therefore that we should steal a Marriage, which would leave
them at Liberty to give or with[h]old what they pleas'd, I know
not: But I suspected the latter, resented it, and went no more.
Mrs. Godfrey brought me afterwards some more favourable
Accounts of their Disposition, and would have drawn me on
again: But I declared absolutely my Resolution to have nothing
more to do with that Family. This was resented by the Godfreys,
we differ'd, and they removed, leaving me the whole
House, and I resolved to take no more Inmates. But this Affair
having turn'd my Thoughts to Marriage, I look'd round me,
and made Overtures of Acquaintance in other Places; but soon
found that the Business of a Printer being generally thought a
poor one, I was not to expect Money with a Wife unless with
such a one, as I should not otherwise think agreable.—In the
mean time, that hard-to-be-govern'd Passion of Youth, had hurried
me frequently into Intrigues with low Women that fell in[67]
my Way, which were attended with some Expence and great
Inconvenience, besides a continual Risque to my Health by a
Distemper which of all Things I dreaded, tho' by great good
Luck I escaped it.—
A friendly Correspondence as Neighbours and old Acquaintances,
had continued between me and Mrs. Read's Family, who
all had a Regard for me from the time of my first Lodging in
their House. I was often invited there and consulted in their
Affairs, wherein I sometimes was of service.—I pity'd poor
Miss Read's unfortunate Situation, who was generally dejected,
seldom chearful, and avoided Company. I consider'd my Giddiness
and Inconstancy when in London as in a great degree the
Cause of her Unhappiness; tho' the Mother was good enough to
think the Fault more her own than mine, as she had prevented
our Marrying before I went thither, and persuaded the other
Match in my Absence. Our mutual Affection was revived, but
there were now great Objections to our Union. That Match was
indeed look'd upon as invalid, a preceding Wife being said to
be livin[g] in England; but this could not easily be prov'd, because
of the Distance[.] And tho' there was a Report of his
Death, it was not certain. The[n] tho' it should be true, he had
left many Debts which his Successor might be call'd [on] to pay.
We venture['d] however, over all these Difficulties, and I [took]
her to Wife Sept. 1. 1730.[10] None of the Inconveniencies
happen[ed] that we had apprehended, she prov'd a good and
faithful Helpmate, assisted me much by attending the Shop, we
throve together, and have ever mutually endeavour'd to make
each other happy. Thus I corrected that great Erratum as wel[l]
as I could.
About [th]is Time our Club meeting, not at a Tavern, but in
a little Room of Mr. Grace's set apart for that Purpose; a Proposition
was made by me that since our Books were often referr'd
to in our Disquisitions upon the Queries, it might be convenient
to us to have them all together where we met, that upon Occasion
they might be consulted; and by thus clubbing our Books
to a common Library, we should, while we lik'd to keep them
together, have each of us the Advantage of using the Books of[68]
all the other Members, which would be nearly as beneficial as if
each owned the whole. It was lik'd and agreed to, and we fill'd
one End of the Room with such Books as we could best spare.
The Number was not so great as we expected; and tho' they had
been of great Use, yet some Inconveniencies occurring for want
of due Care of them, the Collection after about a Year was
separated, and each took his Books home again.
And now I sent on foot my first Project of a public Nature,
[th]at for a Subscription Library. [I] drew up the Proposals, got
them put into Form by our great Scrivener Brockden, and by
the help of my Friends in the Junto, procur'd Fifty Subscribers
of 40/ each to begin with and 10/ a Year for 50 Years, the Term
our Company was to continue. We afterwards obtain'd a Charter,
the Company being increas'd to 100. This was the Mother
of all the N American Subscription Libraries now so numerous,
is become a great thing itself, and continually increasing.—These
Libraries have improv'd the general Conversation of the
Americans, made the common Tradesmen and Farmers as intelligent
as most Gentlemen from other Countries, and perhaps
have contributed in some degree to the Stand so generally made
throughout the Colonies in Defence of their Privileges.—[11]
This library afforded me the means of improvement by constant
study, for which I set apart an hour or two each day, and
thus repair'd in some degree the loss of the learned education
my father once intended for me. Reading was the only amusement
I allow'd myself. I spent no time in taverns, games, or
frolicks of any kind; and my industry in my business continu'd
as indefatigable as it was necessary. I was indebted for my printing-house;
I had a young family coming on to be educated, and
I had to contend with for business two printers, who were
established in the place before me. My circumstances, however,
grew daily easier. My original habits of frugality continuing,
and my father having, among his instructions to me when a boy,
frequently repeated a proverb of Solomon, "Seest thou a man
diligent in his calling, he shall stand before kings, he shall not
stand before mean men," I from thence considered industry as[69]
a means of obtaining wealth and distinction, which encourag'd
me, tho' I did not think that I should ever literally stand before
kings, which, however, has since happened; for I have stood
before five, and even had the honour of sitting down with one,
the King of Denmark, to dinner.
We have an English proverb that says, "He that would thrive,
must ask his wife." It was lucky for me that I had one as much
dispos'd to industry and frugality as myself. She assisted me
chearfully in my business, folding and stitching pamphlets,
tending shop, purchasing old linen rags for the paper-makers,
etc., etc. We kept no idle servants, our table was plain and simple,
our furniture of the cheapest. For instance, my breakfast
was a long time bread and milk (no tea), and I ate it out of a
twopenny earthen porringer, with a pewter spoon. But mark
how luxury will enter families, and make a progress, in spite of
principle: being call'd one morning to breakfast, I found it in a
China bowl, with a spoon of silver! They had been bought for
me without my knowledge by my wife, and had cost her the
enormous sum of three-and-twenty shillings, for which she
had no other excuse or apology to make, but that she thought
her husband deserv'd a silver spoon and China bowl as well
as any of his neighbors. This was the first appearance of plate
and China in our house, which afterward, in a course of years,
as our wealth increas'd, augmented gradually to several hundred
pounds in value.
I had been religiously educated as a Presbyterian; and tho'
some of the dogmas of that persuasion, such as the eternal decrees
of God, election, reprobation, etc., appeared to me unintelligible,
others doubtful, and I early absented myself from the public
assemblies of the sect, Sunday being my studying day, I
never was without some religious principles. I never doubted,
for instance, the existence of the Deity; that he made the world,
and govern'd it by his Providence; that the most acceptable
service of God was the doing good to man; that our souls are
immortal; and that all crime will be punished, and virtue rewarded,
either here or hereafter. These I esteem'd the essentials
of every religion; and, being to be found in all the religions we[70]
had in our country, I respected them all, tho' with different degrees
of respect, as I found them more or less mix'd with other
articles, which, without any tendency to inspire, promote, or
confirm morality, serv'd principally to divide us, and make us
unfriendly to one another. This respect to all, with an opinion
that the worst had some good effects, induc'd me to avoid all
discourse that might tend to lessen the good opinion another
might have of his own religion; and as our province increas'd in
people, and new places of worship were continually wanted,
and generally erected by voluntary contribution, my mite for
such purpose, whatever might be the sect, was never refused.
Tho' I seldom attended any public worship, I had still an
opinion of its propriety, and of its utility when rightly conducted,
and I regularly paid my annual subscription for the
support of the only Presbyterian minister or meeting we had in
Philadelphia. He us'd to visit me sometimes as a friend, and
admonish me to attend his administrations, and I was now and
then prevail'd on to do so, once for five Sundays successively.
Had he been in my opinion a good preacher, perhaps I might
have continued, notwithstanding the occasion I had for the
Sunday's leisure in my course of study; but his discourses were
chiefly either polemic arguments, or explications of the peculiar
doctrines of our sect, and were all to me very dry, uninteresting,
and unedifying, since not a single moral principle was inculcated
or enforc'd, their aim seeming to be rather to make us
Presbyterians than good citizens.
At length he took for his text that verse of the fourth chapter
of Philippians, "Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true,
honest, just, pure, lovely, or of good report, if there be any virtue, or
any praise, think on these things." And I imagin'd, in a sermon
on such a text, we could not miss of having some morality.
But he confin'd himself to five points only, as meant by the
apostle, viz.: 1. Keeping holy the Sabbath day. 2. Being diligent
in reading the holy Scriptures. 3. Attending duly the publick
worship. 4. Partaking of the Sacrament. 5. Paying a due respect
to God's ministers. These might be all good things; but,
as they were not the kind of good things that I expected from[71]
that text, I despaired of ever meeting with them from any other,
was disgusted, and attended his preaching no more. I had some
years before compos'd a little Liturgy, or form of prayer, for
my own private use (viz., in 1728), entitled Articles of Belief and
Acts of Religion. I return'd to the use of this, and went no more
to the public assemblies. My conduct might be blameable, but
I leave it, without attempting further to excuse it; my present
purpose being to relate facts, and not to make apologies for
them.
It was about this time I conceiv'd the bold and arduous project
of arriving at moral perfection. I wish'd to live without
committing any fault at any time; I would conquer all that either
natural inclination, custom, or company might lead me into.
As I knew, or thought I knew, what was right and wrong, I did
not see why I might not always do the one and avoid the other.
But I soon found I had undertaken a task of more difficulty
than I had imagined. While my care was employ'd in guarding
against one fault, I was often surprised by another; habit took
the advantage of inattention; inclination was sometimes too
strong for reason. I concluded, at length, that the mere speculative
conviction that it was our interest to be completely virtuous,
was not sufficient to prevent our slipping; and that the
contrary habits must be broken, and good ones acquired and
established, before we can have any dependence on a steady,
uniform rectitude of conduct. For this purpose I therefore contrived
the following method.
In the various enumerations of the moral virtues I had met
with in my reading, I found the catalogue more or less numerous,
as different writers included more or fewer ideas under the
same name. Temperance, for example, was by some confined
to eating and drinking, while by others it was extended to mean
the moderating every other pleasure, appetite, inclination, or
passion, bodily or mental, even to our avarice and ambition. I
propos'd to myself, for the sake of clearness, to use rather more
names, with fewer ideas annex'd to each, than a few names with
more ideas; and I included under thirteen names of virtues all
that at that time occurr'd to me as necessary or desirable, and[72]
annexed to each a short precept, which fully express'd the extent
I gave to its meaning.
These names of virtues, with their precepts, were:
1. Temperance
Eat not to dullness; drink not to elevation.
2. Silence
Speak not but what may benefit others or yourself; avoid
trifling conversation.
3. Order
Let all your things have their places; let each part of your
business have its time.
4. Resolution
Resolve to perform what you ought; perform without fail
what you resolve.
5. Frugality
Make no expense but to do good to others or yourself; i.e.,
waste nothing.
6. Industry
Lose no time; be always employ'd in something useful; cut
off all unnecessary actions.
7. Sincerity
Use no hurtful deceit; think innocently and justly, and, if you
speak, speak accordingly.
8. Justice
Wrong none by doing injuries, or omitting the benefits that
are your duty.
9. Moderation
Avoid extreams; forbear resenting injuries so much as you
think they deserve.
10. Cleanliness
Tolerate no uncleanliness in body, cloaths, or habitation.[73]
11. Tranquillity
Be not disturbed at trifles, or at accidents common or unavoidable.
12. Chastity
Rarely use venery but for health or offspring, never to dulness,
weakness, or the injury of your own or another's peace or
reputation.
13. Humility
Imitate Jesus and Socrates.
My intention being to acquire the habitude of all these virtues,
I judg'd it would be well not to distract my attention by attempting
the whole at once, but to fix it on one of them at a time; and,
when I should be master of that, then to proceed to another, and
so on, till I should have gone thro' the thirteen; and, as the
previous acquisition of some might facilitate the acquisition of
certain others, I arrang'd them with that view, as they stand
above. Temperance first, as it tends to procure that coolness
and clearness of head, which is so necessary where constant
vigilance was to be kept up, and guard maintained against the
unremitting attraction of ancient habits, and the force of perpetual
temptations. This being acquir'd and establish'd, Silence
would be more easy; and my desire being to gain knowledge at
the same time that I improv'd in virtue, and considering that in
conversation it was obtain'd rather by the use of the ears than of
the tongue, and therefore wishing to break a habit I was getting
into of prattling, punning, and joking, which only made me
acceptable to trifling company, I gave Silence the second place.
This and the next, Order, I expected would allow me more
time for attending to my project and my studies. Resolution,
once become habitual, would keep me firm in my endeavours to
obtain all the subsequent virtues; Frugality and Industry freeing
me from my remaining debt, and producing affluence and independence,
would make more easy the practice of Sincerity
and Justice, etc., etc. Conceiving then, that, agreeably to the[74]
advice of Pythagoras in his Golden Verses, daily examination
would be necessary, I contrived the following method for conducting
that examination.
I made a little book,[12] in which I allotted a page for each of
the virtues. I rul'd each page with red ink, so as to have seven
columns, one for each day of the week, marking each column
with a letter for the day. I cross'd these columns with thirteen
red lines, marking the beginning of each line with the first letter
of one of the virtues, on which line, and in its proper column,
I might mark, by a little black spot, every fault I found upon
examination to have been committed respecting that virtue upon
that day.
Form of the Pages
TEMPERANCE. |
EAT NOT TO DULNESS.
DRINK NOT TO ELEVATION. |
| S. | M. | T. | W. | T. | F. | S. |
T. | | | | | | | |
S. | * | * | | * | | * | |
O. | * * | * | * | | * | * | * |
R. | | | * | | | * | |
F. | | * | | | * | | |
I. | | | * | | | | |
S. | | | | | | | |
J. | | | | | | | |
M. | | | | | | | |
C. | | | | | | | |
T. | | | | | | | |
C. | | | | | | | |
H. | | | | | | | |
I determined to give a week's strict attention to each of the
virtues successively. Thus, in the first week, my great guard
was to avoid every the least offence against Temperance, leaving[75]
the other virtues to their ordinary chance, only marking every
evening the faults of the day. Thus, if in the first week I could
keep my first line, marked T, clear of spots, I suppos'd the habit
of that virtue so much strengthen'd, and its opposite weaken'd,
that I might venture-extending my attention to include the next,
and for the following week keep both lines clear of spots. Proceeding
thus to the last, I could go thro' a course compleat in
thirteen weeks, and four courses in a year. And like him who,
having a garden to weed, does not attempt to eradicate all the
bad herbs at once, which would exceed his reach and his strength,
but works on one of the beds at a time, and, having accomplish'd
the first, proceeds to a second, so I should have, I hoped,
the encouraging pleasure of seeing on my pages the progress I
made in virtue, by clearing successively my lines of their spots,
till in the end, by a number of courses, I should be happy in
viewing a clean book, after a thirteen weeks' daily examination.
This my little book had for its motto these lines from Addison's
Cato:
Here will I hold. If there's a power above us
(And that there is, all nature cries aloud
Thro' all her works), He must delight in virtue;
And that which he delights in must be happy.
Another from Cicero,
O vitæ Philosophia dux! O virtutum indagatrix expultrixque
vitiorum! Unus dies, bene et ex præceptis tuis actus, peccanti
immortalitati est anteponendus.
Another from the Proverbs of Solomon, speaking of wisdom
or virtue:
Length of days is in her right hand, and in her left hand riches
and honour. Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her
paths are peace.—iii. 16, 17.
And conceiving God to be the fountain of wisdom, I thought
it right and necessary to solicit his assistance for obtaining it;
to this end I formed the following little prayer, which was prefix'd
to my tables of examination, for daily use.[76]
O powerful Goodness! bountiful Father! merciful Guide! Increase
in me that wisdom which discovers my truest interest.
Strengthen my resolutions to perform what that wisdom dictates.
Accept my kind offices to thy other children as the only return in
my power for thy continual favours to me.
I used also sometimes a little prayer which I took from
Thomson's Poems, viz.:
Father of light and life, thou Good Supreme!
O teach me what is good; teach me Thyself!
Save me from folly, vanity, and vice,
From every low pursuit; and fill my soul
With knowledge, conscious peace, and virtue pure;
Sacred, substantial, never-fading bliss!
The precept of Order requiring that every part of my business
should have its allotted time, one page in my little book contain'd
the following scheme of employment for the twenty-four hours
of a natural day.
The Morning.
Question. What good shall I do this day? |
5 6
7 |
Rise, wash, and address Powerful Goodness! Contrive day's business,
and take the resolution of the day; prosecute the present study, and breakfast. |
|
8 9 10 11
|
Work. |
Noon. |
12 1
|
Read, or overlook my accounts, and dine. |
|
2 3 4 5
|
Work. |
Evening.
Question. What good have I done to-day? |
6 7 8 9 |
Put things in their places. Supper.
Music or diversion, or conversation.
Examination of the day.[77] |
Night. |
10 11 12 1 2 3 4 |
Sleep. |
I enter'd upon the execution of this plan for self-examination,
and continu'd it with occasional intermissions for some time.
I was surpris'd to find myself so much fuller of faults than I had
imagined; but I had the satisfaction of seeing them diminish.
To avoid the trouble of renewing now and then my little book,
which, by scraping out the marks on the paper of old faults to
make room for new ones in a new course, became full of holes,
I transferr'd my tables and precepts to the ivory leaves of a memorandum
book, on which the lines were drawn with red ink,
that made a durable stain, and on those lines I mark'd my faults
with a black-lead pencil, which marks I could easily wipe out
with a wet sponge. After a while I went thro' one course only
in a year, and afterward only one in several years, till at length
I omitted them entirely, being employ'd in voyages and business
abroad, with a multiplicity of affairs that interfered; but I always
carried my little book with me.
My scheme of Order gave me the most trouble; and I found
that, tho' it might be practicable where a man's business was
such as to leave him the disposition of his time, that of a journeyman
printer, for instance, it was not possible to be exactly observed
by a master, who must mix with the world, and often receive
people of business at their own hours. Order, too, with
regard to places for things, papers, etc., I found extreamly difficult
to acquire. I had not been early accustomed to it, and, having
an exceeding good memory, I was not so sensible of the
inconvenience attending want of method. This article, therefore,
cost me so much painful attention, and my faults in it vexed
me so much, and I made so little progress in amendment, and
had such frequent relapses, that I was almost ready to give up
the attempt, and content myself with a faulty character in that
respect, like the man who, in buying an ax of a smith, my[78]
neighbour, desired to have the whole of its surface as bright as
the edge. The smith consented to grind it bright for him if he
would turn the wheel; he turn'd, while the smith press'd the
broad face of the ax hard and heavily on the stone, which made
the turning of it very fatiguing. The man came every now and
then from the wheel to see how the work went on, and at length
would take his ax as it was, without farther grinding. "No,"
said the smith, "turn on, turn on; we shall have it bright by-and-by;
as yet, it is only speckled." "Yes," says the man, "but I
think I like a speckled ax best." And I believe this may have been
the case with many, who, having, for want of some such means
as I employ'd, found the difficulty of obtaining good and breaking
bad habits in other points of vice and virtue, have given up
the struggle, and concluded that "a speckled ax was best"; for
something, that pretended to be reason, was every now and
then suggesting to me that such extream nicety as I exacted of
myself might be a kind of foppery in morals, which, if it were
known, would make me ridiculous; that a perfect character
might be attended with the inconvenience of being envied and
hated; and that a benevolent man should allow a few faults in
himself, to keep his friends in countenance.
In truth, I found myself incorrigible with respect to Order;
and now I am grown old, and my memory bad, I feel very sensibly
the want of it. But, on the whole, tho' I never arrived at the
perfection I had been so ambitious of obtaining, but fell far short
of it, yet I was, by the endeavour, a better and a happier man
than I otherwise should have been if I had not attempted it; as
those who aim at perfect writing by imitating the engraved
copies, tho' they never reach the wish'd-for excellence of those
copies, their hand is mended by the endeavour, and is tolerable
while it continues fair and legible.
It may be well my posterity should be informed that to this
little artifice, with the blessing of God, their ancestor ow'd the
constant felicity of his life, down to his 79th year in which this
is written. What reverses may attend the remainder is in the
hand of Providence; but, if they arrive, the reflection on past
happiness enjoy'd ought to help his bearing them with more[79]
resignation. To Temperance he ascribes his long-continued
health, and what is still left to him of a good constitution; to
Industry and Frugality, the early easiness of his circumstances
and acquisition of his fortune, with all that knowledge that enabled
him to be a useful citizen, and obtained for him some degree
of reputation among the learned; to Sincerity and Justice,
the confidence of his country, and the honorable employs it
conferred upon him; and to the joint influence of the whole mass
of the virtues, even in the imperfect state he was able to acquire
them, all that evenness of temper, and that cheerfulness in conversation,
which makes his company still sought for, and agreeable
even to his younger acquaintance. I hope, therefore, that
some of my descendants may follow the example and reap the
benefit.
It will be remark'd that, tho' my scheme was not wholly
without religion, there was in it no mark of any of the distinguishing
tenets of any particular sect. I had purposely
avoided them; for, being fully persuaded of the utility and excellency
of my method, and that it might be serviceable to people
in all religions, and intending some time or other to publish it,
I would not have any thing in it that should prejudice any one,
of any sect, against it. I purposed writing a little comment on
each virtue, in which I would have shown the advantages of
possessing it, and the mischiefs attending its opposite vice; and
I should have called my book The Art of Virtue,[E] because
it would have shown the means and manner of obtaining virtue,
which would have distinguished it from the mere exhortation
to be good, that does not instruct and indicate the means, but is
like the apostle's man of verbal charity, who only, without
showing to the naked and hungry how or where they might
get clothes or victuals, exhorted them to be fed and clothed.—James
ii. 15, 16.
But it so happened that my intention of writing and publishing
this comment was never fulfilled. I did, indeed, from time
to time, put down short hints of the sentiments, reasonings, etc.,[80]
to be made use of in it, some of which I have still by me; but the
necessary close attention to private business in the earlier part of
my life, and public business since, have occasioned my postponing
it; for, it being connected in my mind with a great and extensive
project, that required the whole man to execute, and which
an unforeseen succession of employs prevented my attending
to, it has hitherto remain'd unfinish'd.
In this piece it was my design to explain and enforce this doctrine,
that vicious actions are not hurtful because they are forbidden,
but forbidden because they are hurtful, the nature of
man alone considered; that it was, therefore, every one's interest
to be virtuous who wish'd to be happy even in this world;
and I should, from this circumstance (there being always in the
world a number of rich merchants, nobility, states, and princes,
who have need of honest instruments for the management of
their affairs, and such being so rare), have endeavoured to convince
young persons that no qualities were so likely to make
a poor man's fortune as those of probity and integrity.
My list of virtues contain'd at first but twelve; but a Quaker
friend having kindly informed me that I was generally thought
proud; that my pride show'd itself frequently in conversation;
that I was not content with being in the right when discussing
any point, but was overbearing, and rather insolent, of which he
convinc'd me by mentioning several instances; I determined
endeavouring to cure myself, if I could, of this vice or folly
among the rest, and I added Humility to my list, giving an extensive
meaning to the word.
I cannot boast of much success in acquiring the reality of this
virtue, but I had a good deal with regard to the appearance of it.
I made it a rule to forbear all direct contradiction to the sentiments
of others, and all positive assertion of my own. I even
forbid myself, agreeably to the old laws of our Junto, the use of
every word or expression in the language that imported a fix'd
opinion, such as certainly, undoubtedly, etc., and I adopted, instead
of them, I conceive, I apprehend, or I imagine a thing to be
so or so; or it so appears to me at present. When another asserted
something that I thought an error, I deny'd myself the[81]
pleasure of contradicting him abruptly, and of showing immediately
some absurdity in his proposition; and in answering I began
by observing that in certain cases or circumstances his
opinion would be right, but in the present case there appear'd
or seem'd to me some difference, etc. I soon found the advantage
of this change in my manner; the conversations I engag'd
in went on more pleasantly. The modest way in which I
propos'd my opinions procur'd them a readier reception and
less contradiction; I had less mortification when I was found to
be in the wrong, and I more easily prevail'd with others to give
up their mistakes and join with me when I happened to be in
the right.
And this mode, which I at first put on with some violence to
natural inclination, became at length so easy, and so habitual to
me, that perhaps for these fifty years past no one has ever heard
a dogmatical expression escape me. And to this habit (after my
character of integrity) I think it principally owing that I had
early so much weight with my fellow-citizens when I proposed
new institutions, or alterations in the old, and so much influence
in public councils when I became a member; for I was but a bad
speaker, never eloquent, subject to much hesitation in my
choice of words, hardly correct in language, and yet I generally
carried my points.
In reality, there is, perhaps, no one of our natural passions so
hard to subdue as pride. Disguise it, struggle with it, beat it
down, stifle it, mortify it as much as one pleases, it is still alive,
and will every now and then peep out and show itself; you will
see it, perhaps, often in this history; for, even if I could conceive
that I had compleatly overcome it, I should probably be proud
of my humility.[13]...
Having mentioned a great and extensive project which I had
conceiv'd, it seems proper that some account should be here
given of that project and its object. Its first rise in my mind
appears in the following little paper, accidentally preserv'd, viz.:
Observations on my reading history, in Library, May 19th,
1731.[82]
"That the great affairs of the world, the wars, revolutions,
etc., are carried on and affected by parties.
"That the view of these parties is their present general interest,
or what they take to be such.
"That the different views of these different parties occasion
all confusion.
"That while a party is carrying on a general design, each man
has his particular private interest in view.
"That as soon as a party has gain'd its general point, each
member becomes intent upon his particular interest; which,
thwarting others, breaks that party into divisions, and occasions
more confusion.
"That few in public affairs act from a meer view of the good
of their country, whatever they may pretend; and, tho' their
actings bring real good to their country, yet men primarily
considered that their own and their country's interest was
united, and did not act from a principle of benevolence.
"That fewer still, in public affairs, act with a view to the
good of mankind.
"There seems to me at present to be great occasion for raising
a United Party for Virtue, by forming the virtuous and good
men of all nations into a regular body, to be govern'd by suitable
good and wise rules, which good and wise men may probably
be more unanimous in their obedience to, than common
people are to common laws.
"I at present think that whoever attempts this aright, and is
well qualified, can not fail of pleasing God, and of meeting with
success.
B. F."
Revolving this project in my mind, as to be undertaken hereafter,
when my circumstances should afford me the necessary
leisure, I put down from time to time, on pieces of paper, such
thoughts as occurr'd to me respecting it. Most of these are lost;
but I find one purporting to be the substance of an intended
creed, containing, as I thought, the essentials of every known
religion, and being free of every thing that might shock the[83]
professors of any religion. It is express'd in these words,
viz.:
"That there is one God, who made all things.
"That he governs the world by his providence.
"That he ought to be worshiped by adoration, prayer, and
thanksgiving.
"But that the most acceptable service of God is doing good
to man.
"That the soul is immortal.
"And that God will certainly reward virtue and punish vice,
either here or hereafter."
My ideas at that time were, that the sect should be begun and
spread at first among young and single men only; that each person
to be initiated should not only declare his assent to such
creed, but should have exercised himself with the thirteen
weeks' examination and practice of the virtues, as in the before-mention'd
model; that the existence of such a society should be
kept a secret, till it was become considerable, to prevent solicitations
for the admission of improper persons, but that the members
should each of them search among his acquaintance for ingenuous,
well-disposed youths, to whom, with prudent caution,
the scheme should be gradually communicated; that the members
should engage to afford their advice, assistance, and support
to each other in promoting one another's interests, business, and
advancement in life; that, for distinction, we should be call'd The
Society of the Free and Easy: free, as being, by the general practice
and habit of the virtues, free from the dominion of vice; and
particularly by the practice of industry and frugality, free from
debt, which exposes a man to confinement, and a species of slavery
to his creditors.
This is as much as I can now recollect of the project, except
that I communicated it in part to two young men, who adopted
it with some enthusiasm; but my then narrow circumstances, and
the necessity I was under of sticking close to my business, occasion'd
my postponing the further prosecution of it at that time;
and my multifarious occupations, public and private, induc'd[84]
me to continue postponing, so that it has been omitted till I
have no longer strength or activity left sufficient for such an
enterprise; tho' I am still of opinion that it was a practicable
scheme, and might have been very useful, by forming a great
number of good citizens; and I was not discourag'd by the
seeming magnitude of the undertaking, as I have always thought
that one man of tolerable abilities may work great changes, and
accomplish great affairs among mankind, if he first forms a good
plan, and, cutting off all amusements or other employments that
would divert his attention, makes the execution of that same
plan his sole study and business.
In 1732 I first publish'd my Almanack, under the name of
Richard Saunders; it was continu'd by me about twenty-five
years, commonly call'd Poor Richard's Almanack. I endeavour'd
to make it both entertaining and useful, and it accordingly came
to be in such demand, that I reap'd considerable profit from it,
vending annually near ten thousand.[14] And observing that it
was generally read, scarce any neighborhood in the province
being without it, I consider'd it as a proper vehicle for conveying
instruction among the common people, who bought scarcely
any other books; I therefore filled all the little spaces that occurr'd
between the remarkable days in the calendar with proverbial
sentences, chiefly such as inculcated industry and frugality,
as the means of procuring wealth, and thereby securing
virtue; it being more difficult for a man in want, to act
always honestly, as, to use here one of those proverbs, it is hard
for an empty sack to stand upright.
These proverbs, which contained the wisdom of many ages
and nations, I assembled and form'd into a connected discourse
prefix'd to the Almanack of 1757, as the harangue of a wise old
man to the people attending an auction. The bringing all these
scatter'd counsels thus into a focus enabled them to make greater
impression. The piece, being universally approved, was copied
in all the newspapers of the Continent; reprinted in Britain on a
broad side, to be stuck up in houses; two translations were
made of it in French, and great numbers bought by the clergy
and gentry, to distribute gratis among their poor parishioners[85]
and tenants. In Pennsylvania, as it discouraged useless expense
in foreign superfluities, some thought it had its share of influence
in producing that growing plenty of money which was
observable for several years after its publication.
I considered my newspaper, also, as another means of communicating
instruction, and in that view frequently reprinted in
it extracts from the Spectator, and other moral writers; and
sometimes publish'd little pieces of my own, which had been
first compos'd for reading in our Junto. Of these are a Socratic
dialogue, tending to prove that, whatever might be his parts and
abilities, a vicious man could not properly be called a man of
sense; and a discourse on self-denial, showing that virtue was
not secure till its practice became a habitude, and was free from
the opposition of contrary inclinations. These may be found in
the papers about the beginning of 1735.[15]
In the conduct of my newspaper, I carefully excluded all
libelling and personal abuse, which is of late years become so
disgraceful to our country. Whenever I was solicited to insert
any thing of that kind, and the writers pleaded, as they generally
did, the liberty of the press, and that a newspaper was like a
stage-coach, in which any one who would pay had a right to a
place, my answer was, that I would print the piece separately if
desired, and the author might have as many copies as he pleased
to distribute himself, but that I would not take upon me to
spread his detraction; and that, having contracted with my subscribers
to furnish them with what might be either useful or
entertaining, I could not fill their papers with private altercation,
in which they had no concern, without doing them manifest
injustice. Now, many of our printers make no scruple of gratifying
the malice of individuals by false accusations of the fairest
characters among ourselves, augmenting animosity even to the
producing of duels; and are, moreover, so indiscreet as to print
scurrilous reflections on the government of neighboring states,
and even on the conduct of our best national allies, which may
be attended with the most pernicious consequences. These
things I mention as a caution to young printers, and that they
may be encouraged not to pollute their presses and disgrace[86]
their profession by such infamous practices, but refuse steadily,
as they may see by my example that such a course of conduct
will not, on the whole, be injurious to their interests.
I had begun in 1733 to study languages; I soon made myself
so much a master of the French as to be able to read the books
with ease. I then undertook the Italian. An acquaintance, who
was also learning it, us'd often to tempt me to play chess with
him. Finding this took up too much of the time I had to spare
for study, I at length refus'd to play any more, unless on this
condition, that the victor in every game should have a right to
impose a task, either in parts of the grammar to be got by heart,
or in translations, etc., which tasks the vanquish'd was to perform
upon honour, before our next meeting. As we play'd
pretty equally, we thus beat one another into that language. I
afterwards with a little painstaking, acquir'd as much of the
Spanish as to read their books also.
I have already mention'd that I had only one year's instruction
in a Latin school, and that when very young, after which I
neglected that language entirely. But, when I had attained an
acquaintance with the French, Italian, and Spanish, I was surpriz'd
to find, on looking over a Latin Testament, that I understood
so much more of that language than I had imagined,
which encouraged me to apply myself again to the study of it,
and I met with more success, as those preceding languages had
greatly smooth'd my way.
From these circumstances, I have thought that there is some
inconsistency in our common mode of teaching languages. We
are told that it is proper to begin first with the Latin, and, having
acquir'd that, it will be more easy to attain those modern languages
which are deriv'd from it; and yet we do not begin with
the Greek, in order more easily to acquire the Latin. It is true
that, if you can clamber and get to the top of a staircase without
using the steps, you will more easily gain them in descending;
but certainly, if you begin with the lowest you will with
more ease ascend to the top; and I would therefore offer it to
the consideration of those who superintend the education of our[87]
youth, whether, since many of those who begin with the Latin
quit the same after spending some years without having made
any great proficiency, and what they have learnt becomes almost
useless, so that their time has been lost, it would not have been
better to have begun with the French, proceeding to the Italian,
etc.; for, tho', after spending the same time, they should quit
the study of languages and never arrive at the Latin, they
would, however, have acquired another tongue or two, that,
being in modern use, might be serviceable to them in common
life.
Our club, the Junto, was found so useful, and afforded such
satisfaction to the members, that several were desirous of introducing
their friends, which could not well be done without exceeding
what we had settled as a convenient number, viz.,
twelve. We had from the beginning made it a rule to keep our
institution a secret, which was pretty well observ'd; the intention
was to avoid applications of improper persons for admittance,
some of whom, perhaps, we might find it difficult to refuse.
I was one of those who were against any addition to our
number, but, instead of it, made in writing a proposal, that every
member separately should endeavour to form a subordinate
club, with the same rules respecting queries, etc., and without
informing them of the connection with the Junto. The advantages
proposed were, the improvement of so many more young
citizens by the use of our institutions; our better acquaintance
with the general sentiments of the inhabitants on any occasion,
as the Junto member might propose what queries we should
desire, and was to report to the Junto what pass'd in his separate
club; the promotion of our particular interests in business by
more extensive recommendation, and the increase of our influence
in public affairs, and our power of doing good by spreading
thro' the several clubs the sentiments of the Junto.
The project was approv'd, and every member undertook to
form his club, but they did not all succeed. Five or six only
were compleated, which were called by different names, as the
Vine, the Union, the Band, etc. They were useful to themselves,[88]
and afforded us a good deal of amusement, information, and
instruction, besides answering, in some considerable degree, our
views of influencing the public opinion on particular occasions,
of which I shall give some instances in course of time as they
happened.
I began now to turn my thoughts a little to public affairs,[16]
beginning, however, with small matters. The city watch was
one of the first things that I conceiv'd to want regulation. It
was managed by the constables of the respective wards in turn;
the constable warned a number of housekeepers to attend him
for the night. Those who chose never to attend, paid him six
shillings a year to be excus'd, which was suppos'd to be for hiring
substitutes, but was, in reality, much more than was necessary
for that purpose, and made the constableship a place of
profit; and the constable, for a little drink, often got such ragamuffins
about him as a watch, that respectable housekeepers did
not choose to mix with. Walking the rounds, too, was often
neglected, and most of the nights spent in tippling. I thereupon
wrote a paper to be read in Junto, representing these irregularities,
but insisting more particularly on the inequality of this six-shilling
tax of the constables, respecting the circumstances of
those who paid it, since a poor widow housekeeper, all whose
property to be guarded by the watch did not perhaps exceed the
value of fifty pounds, paid as much as the wealthiest merchant,
who had thousands of pounds' worth of goods in his stores.
On the whole, I proposed as a more effectual watch, the hiring
of proper men to serve constantly in that business; and as a more
equitable way of supporting the charge, the levying a tax that
should be proportion'd to the property. This idea, being approv'd
by the Junto, was communicated to the other clubs, but
as arising in each of them; and though the plan was not immediately
carried into execution, yet, by preparing the minds of people
for the change, it paved the way for the law obtained a few
years after, when the members of our clubs were grown into
more influence.
About this time I wrote a paper (first to be read in Junto, but[89]
it was afterward publish'd) on the different accidents and carelessnesses
by which houses were set on fire, with cautions
against them, and means proposed of avoiding them. This was
much spoken of as a useful piece, and gave rise to a project,
which soon followed it, of forming a company for the more
ready extinguishing of fires, and mutual assistance in removing
and securing of goods when in danger. Associates in this scheme
were presently found, amounting to thirty. Our articles of
agreement oblig'd every member to keep always in good order,
and fit for use, a certain number of leather buckets, with strong
bags and baskets (for packing and transporting of goods),
which were to be brought to every fire; and we agreed to meet
once a month and spend a social evening together, in discoursing
and communicating such ideas as occurred to us upon the
subject of fires, as might be useful in our conduct on such occasions.
The utility of this institution soon appeared, and many more
desiring to be admitted than we thought convenient for one
company, they were advised to form another, which was accordingly
done; and this went on, one new company being formed
after another, till they became so numerous as to include most
of the inhabitants who were men of property; and now, at the
time of my writing this, tho' upward of fifty years since its
establishment, that which I first formed, called the Union Fire
Company, still subsists and flourishes, tho' the first members
are all deceas'd but myself and one, who is older by a year than
I am. The small fines that have been paid by members for absence
at the monthly meetings have been apply'd to the purchase
of fire-engines, ladders, fire-hooks, and other useful implements
for each company, so that I question whether there is a
city in the world better provided with the means of putting a
stop to beginning conflagrations; and, in fact, since these institutions,
the city has never lost by fire more than one or two houses
at a time, and the flames have often been extinguished before the
house in which they began has been half consumed.
In 1739 arrived among us from Ireland the Reverend Mr.
Whitefield, who had made himself remarkable there as an itinerant[90]
preacher. He was at first permitted to preach in some of
our churches; but the clergy, taking a dislike to him, soon refus'd
him their pulpits, and he was oblig'd to preach in the fields.
The multitudes of all sects and denominations that attended his
sermons were enormous, and it was matter of speculation to me,
who was one of the number, to observe the extraordinary influence
of his oratory on his hearers, and how much they admir'd
and respected him, notwithstanding his common abuse of them,
by assuring them they were naturally half beasts and half devils.
It was wonderful to see the change soon made in the manners of
our inhabitants. From being thoughtless or indifferent about
religion, it seem'd as if all the world were growing religious,
so that one could not walk thro' the town in an evening without
hearing psalms sung in different families of every street.
I happened soon after to attend one of his sermons, in the
course of which I perceived he intended to finish with a collection,
and I silently resolved he should get nothing from me. I
had in my pocket a handful of copper money, three or four silver
dollars, and five pistoles in gold. As he proceeded I began
to soften, and concluded to give the coppers. Another stroke of
his oratory made me asham'd of that, and determin'd me to give
the silver; and he finish'd so admirably, that I empty'd my pocket
wholly into the collector's dish, gold and all. At this sermon
there was also one of our club, who, being of my sentiments respecting
the building in Georgia and, suspecting a collection
might be intended, had, by precaution, emptied his pockets before
he came from home. Towards the conclusion of the discourse,
however, he felt a strong desire to give, and apply'd to a
neighbour, who stood near him, to borrow some money for the
purpose. The application was unfortunately [made] to perhaps
the only man in the company who had the firmness not to be
affected by the preacher. His answer was, "At any other time,
Friend Hopkinson, I would lend to thee freely; but not now, for
thee seems to be out of thy right senses."
He [Rev. Whitefield] us'd, indeed, sometimes to pray for my[91]
conversion, but never had the satisfaction of believing that his
prayers were heard. Ours was a mere civil friendship, sincere
on both sides, and lasted to his death.[17]
The following instance will show something of the terms on
which we stood. Upon one of his arrivals from England at
Boston, he wrote to me that he should come soon to Philadelphia,
but knew not where he could lodge when there, as he understood
his old friend and host, Mr. Benezet was removed to Germantown.
My answer was, "You know my house, if you can make
shift with its scanty accommodations, you will be most heartily
welcome." He reply'd, that if I made that kind offer for Christ's
sake, I should not miss of a reward. And I returned, "Don't let
me be mistaken, it was not for Christ's sake, but for your sake."
One of our common acquaintance jocosely remark'd, that,
knowing it to be the custom of the saints, when they received any
favour, to shift the burden of the obligation from off their own
shoulders, and place it in heaven, I had contriv'd to fix it on
earth.
The last time I saw Mr. Whitefield was in London, when he
consulted me about his Orphan House concern, and his purpose
of appropriating it to the establishment of a college.
He had a loud and clear voice, and articulated his words and
sentences so perfectly, that he might be heard and understood at
a great distance, especially as his auditories, however numerous,
observ'd the most exact silence. He preach'd one evening from
the top of the Court-house steps, which are in the middle of
Market-street, and on the west side of Second-street, which
crosses it at right angles. Both streets were fill'd with his hearers
to a considerable distance. Being among the hindmost in
Market-street, I had the curiosity to learn how far he could be
heard, by retiring backwards down the street towards the
river; and I found his voice distinct till I came near Front-street,
when some noise in that street obscur'd it. Imagining then a
semicircle, of which my distance should be the radius, and that
it were fill'd with auditors, to each of whom I allow'd two square
feet, I computed that he might well be heard by more than thirty
thousand. This reconcil'd me to the newspaper accounts of his[92]
having preach'd to twenty-five thousand people in the fields,
and to the antient histories of generals haranguing whole armies,
of which I had some times doubted.
I had, on the whole, abundant reason to be satisfied with my
being established in Pennsylvania. There were, however, two
things that I regretted, there being no provision for defense,
nor for a compleat education of youth; no militia, nor any college.
I therefore, in 1743, drew up a proposal for establishing
an academy; and at that time, thinking the Reverend Mr. Peters,
who was out of employ, a fit person to superintend such an institution,
I communicated the project to him; but he, having
more profitable views in the service of the proprietaries, which
succeeded, declin'd the undertaking; and, not knowing another
at that time suitable for such a trust, I let the scheme lie a while
dormant. I succeeded better the next year, 1744, in proposing
and establishing a Philosophical Society. The paper I wrote for
that purpose will be found among my writings, when collected.
Peace being concluded, and the association business therefore
at an end, I turn'd my thoughts again to the affair of establishing
an academy. The first step I took was to associate in the design
a number of active friends, of whom the Junto furnished a
good part; the next was to write and publish a pamphlet, entitled
Proposals Relating to the Education of Youth in Pennsylvania.
This I distributed among the principal inhabitants gratis,
and as soon as I could suppose their minds a little prepared by
the perusal of it, I set on foot a subscription for opening and
supporting an academy; it was to be paid in quotas yearly for
five years; by so dividing it, I judg'd the subscription might be
larger, and I believe it was so, amounting to no less, if I remember
right, than five thousand pounds.
In the introduction to these proposals, I stated their publication,
not as an act of mine, but of some publick-spirited gentlemen,
avoiding as much as I could, according to my usual rule,
the presenting myself to the publick as the author of any scheme
for their benefit.[93]
The subscribers, to carry the project into immediate execution,
chose out of their number twenty-four trustees, and appointed
Mr. Francis, then attorney-general, and myself to draw
up constitutions for the government of the academy; which
being done and signed, a house was hired, masters engag'd, and
the schools opened, I think, in the same year, 1749.
In 1746, being at Boston, I met there with a Dr. Spence, who
was lately arrived from Scotland, and show'd me some electric
experiments. They were imperfectly perform'd, as he was not
very expert; but, being on a subject quite new to me, they equally
surpris'd and pleased me. Soon after my return to Philadelphia,
our library company receiv'd from Mr. P. Collinson, Fellow of
the Royal Society of London, a present of a glass tube, with
some account of the use of it in making such experiments. I
eagerly seized the opportunity of repeating what I had seen at
Boston; and, by much practice, acquir'd great readiness in performing
those, also, which we had an account of from England,
adding a number of new ones. I say much practice, for my
house was continually full, for some time, with people who
came to see these new wonders.
To divide a little this incumbrance among my friends, I
caused a number of similar tubes to be blown at our glass-house,
with which they furnish'd themselves, so that we had at length
several performers. Among these, the principal was Mr. Kinnersley,
an ingenious neighbor, who, being out of business, I
encouraged to undertake showing the experiments for money,
and drew up for him two lectures, in which the experiments
were rang'd in such order, and accompanied with such explanations
in such method, as that the foregoing should assist in
comprehending the following. He procur'd an elegant apparatus
for the purpose, in which all the little machines that I had
roughly made for myself were nicely form'd by instrument-makers.
His lectures were well attended, and gave great satisfaction;
and after some time he went thro' the colonies, exhibiting
them in every capital town, and pick'd up some money. In the[94]
West India Islands, indeed, it was with difficulty the experiments
could be made, from the general moisture of the air.
Oblig'd as we were to Mr. Collinson for his present of the
tube, etc., I thought it right he should be inform'd of our success
in using it, and wrote him several letters containing accounts
of our experiments. He got them read in the Royal Society,
where they were not at first thought worth so much notice
as to be printed in their Transactions. One paper, which I
wrote for Mr. Kinnersley, on the sameness of lightning with
electricity, I sent to Dr. Mitchel, an acquaintance of mine, and
one of the members also of that society, who wrote me word
that it had been read, but was laughed at by the connoisseurs.
The papers, however, being shown to Dr. Fothergill, he thought
them of too much value to be stifled, and advis'd the printing
of them. Mr. Collinson then gave them to Cave for publication
in his Gentleman's Magazine; but he chose to print them
separately in a pamphlet, and Dr. Fothergill wrote the preface.
Cave, it seems, judged rightly for his profit, for by the additions
that arrived afterward they swell'd, to a quarto volume, which
has had five editions, and cost him nothing for copy-money.
It was, however, some time before those papers were much
taken notice of in England. A copy of them happening to fall
into the hands of the Count de Buffon, a philosopher deservedly
of great reputation in France, and, indeed, all over Europe, he
prevailed with M. Dalibard to translate them into French, and
they were printed at Paris. The publication offended the Abbé
Nollet, preceptor in Natural Philosophy to the royal family, and
an able experimenter, who had form'd and publish'd a theory of
electricity, which then had the general vogue. He could not at
first believe that such a work came from America, and said it
must have been fabricated by his enemies at Paris, to decry his
system. Afterwards, having been assur'd that there really existed
such a person as Franklin at Philadelphia, which he had
doubted, he wrote and published a volume of Letters, chiefly
address'd to me, defending his theory, and denying the verity
of my experiments, and of the positions deduc'd from them.
I once purpos'd answering the abbé, and actually began the[95]
answer; but, on consideration that my writings contain'd a description
of experiments which any one might repeat and verify,
and if not to be verifi'd, could not be defended; or of observations
offer'd as conjectures, and not delivered dogmatically,
therefore not laying me under any obligation to defend them;
and reflecting that a dispute between two persons, writing in
different languages, might be lengthened greatly by mistranslations,
and thence misconceptions of one another's meaning,
much of one of the abbé's letters being founded on an error in
the translation, I concluded to let my papers shift for themselves,
believing it was better to spend what time I could spare
from public business in making new experiments, than in disputing
about those already made. I therefore never answered
M. Nollet, and the event gave me no cause to repent my silence;
for my friend M. le Roy, of the Royal Academy of Sciences,
took up my cause and refuted him; my book was translated into
the Italian, German, and Latin languages; and the doctrine it
contain'd was by degrees universally adopted by the philosophers
of Europe, in preference to that of the abbé; so that he
lived to see himself the last of his sect, except Monsieur B——,
of Paris, his élève and immediate disciple.
What gave my book the more sudden and general celebrity,
was the success of one of its proposed experiments, made by
Messrs. Dalibard and De Lor at Marly, for drawing lightning
from the clouds. This engag'd the public attention every where.
M. de Lor, who had an apparatus for experimental philosophy,
and lectur'd in that branch of science, undertook to repeat what
he called the Philadelphia Experiments; and, after they were performed
before the king and court, all the curious of Paris
flocked to see them. I will not swell this narrative with an account
of that capital experiment, nor of the infinite pleasure I
receiv'd in the success of a similar one I made soon after with a
kite at Philadelphia, as both are to be found in the histories of
electricity.
Dr. Wright, an English physician, when at Paris, wrote to a
friend, who was of the Royal Society, an account of the high
esteem my experiments were in among the learned abroad, and[96]
of their wonder that my writings had been so little noticed in
England. The Society, on this, resum'd the consideration of
the letters that had been read to them; and the celebrated Dr.
Watson drew up a summary account of them, and of all I had
afterwards sent to England on the subject, which he accompanied
with some praise of the writer. This summary was then
printed in their Transactions; and some members of the Society
in London, particularly the very ingenious Mr. Canton, having
verified the experiment of procuring lightning from the clouds
by a pointed rod, and acquainting them with the success, they
soon made me more than amends for the slight with which they
had before treated me. Without my having made any application
for that honour, they chose me a member, and voted that I
should be excus'd the customary payments, which would have
amounted to twenty-five guineas; and ever since have given me
their Transactions gratis. They also presented me with the gold
medal of Sir Godfrey Copley for the year 1753, the delivery of
which was accompanied by a very handsome speech of the president,
Lord Macclesfield, wherein I was highly honoured.
DOGOOD PAPERS, NO. I
(From Monday March 26. to Monday April 2. 1722.)
To the Author of the New-England Courant.
Sir,
It may not be improper in the first Place to inform your
Readers, that I intend once a Fortnight to present them, by the
Help of this Paper, with a short Epistle, which I presume will
add somewhat to their Entertainment.
And since it is observed, that the Generality of People, now a
days, are unwilling either to commend or dispraise what they
read, until they are in some measure informed who or what the
Author of it is, whether he be poor or rich, old or young, a Scollar
or a Leather Apron Man, &c. and give their Opinion of the
Performance, according to the Knowledge which they have of
the Author's Circumstances, it may not be amiss to begin with[97]
a short Account of my past Life and present Condition, that the
Reader may not be at a Loss to judge whether or no my Lucubrations
are worth his reading.
At the time of my Birth, my Parents were on Ship-board in
their Way from London to N. England. My Entrance into this
troublesome World was attended with the Death of my Father,
a Misfortune, which tho' I was not then capable of knowing, I
shall never be able to forget; for as he, poor Man, stood upon
the Deck rejoycing at my Birth, a merciless Wave entred the
Ship, and in one Moment carry'd him beyond Reprieve. Thus
was the first Day which I saw, the last that was seen by my
Father; and thus was my disconsolate Mother at once made both
a Parent and a Widow.
When we arrived at Boston (which was not long after) I was
put to Nurse in a Country Place, at a small Distance from the
Town, where I went to School, and past my Infancy and Childhood
in Vanity and Idleness, until I was bound out Apprentice,
that I might no longer be a Charge to my Indigent Mother, who
was put to hard Shifts for a Living.
My Master was a Country Minister, a pious good-natur'd
young Man, & a Batchelor: He labour'd with all his Might to
instil vertuous and godly Principles into my tender Soul, well
knowing that it was the most suitable Time to make deep and
lasting Impressions on the Mind, while it was yet untainted with
Vice, free and unbiass'd. He endeavour'd that I might be instructed
in all that Knowledge and Learning which is necessary
for our Sex, and deny'd me no Accomplishment that could
possibly be attained in a Country Place, such as all Sorts of
Needle-Work, Writing, Arithmetick, &c. and observing that I
took a more than ordinary Delight in reading ingenious Books,
he gave me the free Use of his Library, which tho' it was but
small, yet it was well chose, to inform the Understanding rightly
and enable the Mind to frame great and noble Ideas.
Before I had liv'd quite two Years with this Reverend Gentleman,
my indulgent Mother departed this Life, leaving me as it
were by my self, having no Relation on Earth within my
Knowledge.[98]
I will not abuse your Patience with a tedious Recital of all the
frivolous Accidents of my Life, that happened from this Time
until I arrived to Years of Discretion, only inform you that I
liv'd a chearful Country Life, spending my leisure Time either
in some innocent Diversion with the neighbouring Females, or
in some shady Retirement, with the best of Company, Books.
Thus I past away the Time with a Mixture of Profit and Pleasure,
having no Affliction but what was imaginary and created in
my own Fancy; as nothing is more common with us Women,
than to be grieving for nothing, when we have nothing else to
grieve for.
As I would not engross too much of your Paper at once, I will
defer the Remainder of my Story until my next Letter; in the
mean time desiring your Readers to exercise their Patience, and
bear with my Humours now and then, because I shall trouble
them but seldom. I am not insensible of the Impossibility of
pleasing all, but I would not willingly displease any; and for
those who will take Offence where none is intended, they are
beneath the Notice of
Your Humble Servant,
Silinc Dogood.
As the Favour of Mrs. Dogood's Correspondence is acknowledged
by the Publisher of this Paper, lest any of her Letters should
miscarry, he desires they may for the future be deliver'd at his
Printing-House, or at the Blue Ball in Union-Street, and no
Questions shall be ask'd of the Bearer.
DOGOOD PAPERS, NO. IV
(From Monday May 7. to Monday May 14. 1722.)
An sum etiam nunc vel Græcè loqui vel Latinè docendus?
Cicero.
To the Author of the New-England Courant.
Sir,
Discoursing the other Day at Dinner with my Reverend
Boarder, formerly mention'd, (whom for Distinction sake we[99]
will call by the Name of Clericus,) concerning the Education of
Children, I ask'd his Advice about my young Son William,
whether or no I had best bestow upon him Academical Learning,
or (as our Phrase is) bring him up at our College: He perswaded
me to do it by all Means, using many weighty Arguments with
me, and answering all the Objections that I could form against
it; telling me withal, that he did not doubt but that the Lad
would take his Learning very well, and not idle away his Time
as too many there now-a-days do. These words of Clericus gave
me a Curiosity to inquire a little more strictly into the present
Circumstances of that famous Seminary of Learning; but the
Information which he gave me, was neither pleasant, nor such
as I expected.
As soon as Dinner was over, I took a solitary Walk into my
Orchard, still ruminating on Clericus's Discourse with much
Consideration, until I came to my usual Place of Retirement
under the Great Apple-Tree; where having seated my self, and
carelessly laid my Head on a verdant Bank, I fell by Degrees into
a soft and undisturbed Slumber. My waking Thoughts remained
with me in my Sleep, and before I awak'd again, I
dreamt the following Dream.
I fancy'd I was travelling over pleasant and delightful Fields
and Meadows, and thro' many small Country Towns and
Villages; and as I pass'd along, all Places resounded with the
Fame of the Temple of Learning: Every Peasant, who had
wherewithal, was preparing to send one of his Children at least
to this famous Place; and in this Case most of them consulted
their own Purses instead of their Childrens Capacities: So that
I observed, a great many, yea, the most part of those who were
travelling thither, were little better than Dunces and Blockheads.
Alas! Alas!
At length I entred upon a spacious Plain, in the Midst of
which was erected a large and stately Edifice: It was to this that
a great Company of Youths from all Parts of the Country were
going; so stepping in among the Crowd, I passed on with them,
and presently arrived at the Gate.
The Passage was Kept by two sturdy Porters named Riches[100]
and Poverty, and the latter obstinately refused to give Entrance
to any who had not first gain'd the Favour of the former; so that
I observed, many who came even to the very Gate, were obliged
to travel back again as ignorant as they came, for want of this
necessary Qualification. However, as a Spectator I gain'd Admittance,
and with the rest entred directly into the Temple.
In the Middle of the great Hall stood a stately and magnificent
Throne, which was ascended to by two high and difficult Steps.
On the Top of it sat Learning in awful State; she was
apparelled wholly in Black, and surrounded almost on every
Side with innumerable Volumes in all Languages. She seem'd
very busily employ'd in writing something on half a Sheet of
Paper, and upon Enquiry, I understood she was preparing a
Paper, call'd, The New-England Courant. On her Right Hand
sat English, with a pleasant smiling Countenance, and handsomely
attir'd; and on her left were seated several Antique Figures
with their Faces vail'd. I was considerably puzzl'd to guess
who they were, until one informed me, (who stood beside me,)
that those Figures on her left Hand were Latin, Greek, Hebrew,
&c. and that they were very much reserv'd, and seldom or never
unvail'd their Faces here, and then to few or none, tho' most of
those who have in this Place acquir'd so much Learning as to
distinguish them from English, pretended to an intimate Acquaintance
with them. I then enquir'd of him, what could be
the Reason why they continued vail'd, in this Place especially:
He pointed to the Foot of the Throne, where I saw Idleness,
attended with Ignorance, and these (he informed me) were they,
who first vail'd them, and still kept them so.
Now I observed, that the whole Tribe who entred into the
Temple with me, began to climb the Throne; but the Work;
proving troublesome and difficult to most of them, they withdrew
their Hands from the Plow, and contented themselves to
sit at the Foot, with Madam Idleness and her Maid Ignorance,
until those who were assisted by Diligence and a docible Temper,
had well nigh got up the first Step: But the Time drawing
nigh in which they could no way avoid ascending, they were
fain to crave the Assistance of those who had got up before[101]
them, and who, for the Reward perhaps of a Pint of Milk, or a
Piece of Plumb-Cake, lent the Lubbers a helping Hand, and sat
them in the Eye of the World, upon a Level with themselves.
The other Step being in the same Manner ascended, and the
usual Ceremonies at an End, every Beetle-Scull seem'd well
satisfy'd with his own Portion of Learning, tho' perhaps he was
e'en just as ignorant as ever. And now the Time of their Departure
being come, they march'd out of Doors to make Room
for another Company, who waited for Entrance: And I, having
seen all that was to be seen, quitted the Hall likewise, and went
to make my Observations on those who were just gone out
before me.
Some I perceiv'd took to Merchandizing, others to Travelling,
some to one Thing, some to another, and some to Nothing;
and many of them from henceforth, for want of Patrimony,
liv'd as poor as church Mice, being unable to dig, and asham'd to
beg, and to live by their Wits it was impossible. But the most
Part of the Crowd went along a large beaten Path, which led to
a Temple at the further End of the Plain, call'd, The Temple of
Theology. The Business of those who were employ'd in this
Temple being laborious and painful, I wonder'd exceedingly to
see so many go towards it; but while I was pondering this Matter
in my Mind, I spy'd Pecunia behind a Curtain, beckoning to
them with her Hand, which Sight immediately satisfy'd me for
whose Sake it was, that a great Part of them (I will not say all)
travel'd that Road. In this Temple I saw nothing worth mentioning,
except the ambitious and fraudulent Contrivances of
Plagius, who (notwithstanding he had been severely reprehended
for such Practices before) was diligently transcribing
some eloquent Paragraphs out of Tillotson's Works, &c. to
embellish his own.
Now I bethought my self in my Sleep, that it was Time to be
at Home, and as I fancy'd I was travelling back thither, I reflected
in my Mind on the extream Folly of those Parents, who,
blind to their Childrens Dulness, and insensible of the Solidity
of their Skulls, because they think their Purses can afford it, will
needs send them to the Temple of Learning, where, for want[102]
of a suitable Genius, they learn little more than how to carry
themselves handsomely, and enter a Room genteely, (which
might as well be acquir'd at a Dancing-School,) and from
whence they return, after Abundance of Trouble and Charge,
as great Blockheads as ever, only more proud and self-conceited.
While I was in the midst of these unpleasant Reflections,
Clericus (who with a Book in his Hand was walking under the
Trees) accidentally awak'd me; to him I related my Dream with
all its Particulars, and he, without much Study, presently interpreted
it, assuring me, That it was a lively Representation of
Harvard College, Etcetera.
I remain, Sir,
Your Humble Servant,
Silence Dogood.
DOGOOD PAPERS, NO. V
(From Monday May 21. to Monday May 28. 1722.)
Mulier Muliere magis congruet.—Ter.
To the Author of the New-England Courant.
Sir,
I shall here present your Readers with a Letter from one, who
informs me that I have begun at the wrong End of my Business,
and that I ought to begin at Home, and censure the Vices and
Follies of my own Sex, before I venture to meddle with your's:
Nevertheless, I am resolved to dedicate this Speculation to the
Fair Tribe, and endeavour to show, that Mr. Ephraim charges
Women with being particularly guilty of Pride, Idleness, &c.
wrongfully, inasmuch as the Men have not only as great a Share
in those Vices as the Women, but are likewise in a great Measure
the Cause of that which the Women are guilty of. I think it will
be best to produce my Antagonist, before I encounter him.
To Mrs. Dogood.
Madam,
My Design in troubling you with this Letter is, to desire you
would begin with your own Sex first: Let the first Volley of[103]
your Resentments be directed against Female Vice; let Female
Idleness, Ignorance and Folly, (which are Vices more peculiar
to your Sex than to our's,) be the Subject of your Satyrs, but
more especially Female Pride, which I think is intollerable.
Here is a large Field that wants Cultivation, and which I believe
you are able (if willing) to improve with Advantage; and when
you have once reformed the Women, you will find it a much easier
Task to reform the Men, because Women are the prime Causes
of a great many Male Enormities. This is all at present from
Your Friendly Wellwisher,
Ephraim Censorious.
After Thanks to my Correspondent for his Kindness in cutting
out Work for me, I must assure him, that I find it a very
difficult Matter to reprove Women separate from the Men; for
what Vice is there in which the Men have not as great a Share as
the Women? and in some have they not a far greater, as in
Drunkenness, Swearing, &c.? And if they have, then it follows,
that when a Vice is to be reproved, Men, who are most culpable,
deserve the most Reprehension, and certainly therefore, ought
to have it. But we will wave this point at present, and proceed
to a particular Consideration of what my Correspondent calls
Female Vice.
As for Idleness, if I should Quære, Where are the greatest
Number of its Votaries to be found, with us or the Men? it
might I believe be easily and truly answer'd, With the latter.
For, notwithstanding the Men are commonly complaining how
hard they are forc'd to labour, only to maintain their Wives in
Pomp and Idleness, yet if you go among the Women, you will
learn, that they have always more Work upon their Hands than
they are able to do, and that a Woman's Work is never done, &c.
But however, Suppose we should grant for once, that we are
generally more idle than the Men, (without making any Allowance
for the Weakness of the Sex,) I desire to know whose Fault
it is? Are not the Men to blame for their Folly in maintaining
us in Idleness? Who is there that can be handsomely supported
in Affluence, Ease and Pleasure by another, that will chuse[104]
rather to earn his Bread by the Sweat of his own Brows? And
if a Man will be so fond and so foolish, as to labour hard himself
for a Livelihood, and suffer his Wife in the mean Time to sit in
Ease and Idleness, let him not blame her if she does so, for it
is in a great Measure his own Fault.
And now for the Ignorance and Folly which he reproaches us
with, let us see (if we are Fools and Ignoramus's) whose is the
Fault, the Men's or our's. An ingenious Writer, having this
Subject in Hand, has the following Words, wherein he lays the
Fault wholly on the Men, for not allowing Women the Advantages
of Education.
"I have (says he) often thought of it as one of the most
barbarous Customs in the World, considering us as a civiliz'd
and Christian Country, that we deny the Advantages of Learning
to Women. We reproach the Sex every Day with Folly and
Impertinence, while I am confident, had they the Advantages of
Education equal to us, they would be guilty of less than our
selves. One would wonder indeed how it should happen that
Women are conversible at all, since they are only beholding to
natural Parts for all their Knowledge. Their Youth is spent to
teach them to stitch and sow, or make Baubles. They are
taught to read indeed, and perhaps to write their Names, or so;
and that is the Heigth of a Womans Education. And I would
but ask any who slight the Sex for their Understanding, What
is a Man (a Gentleman, I mean) good for that is taught no more?
If Knowledge and Understanding had been useless Additions
to the Sex, God Almighty would never have given them
Capacities, for he made nothing Needless. What has the
Woman done to forfeit the Priviledge of being taught? Does
she plague us with her Pride and Impertinence? Why did we
not let her learn, that she might have had more Wit? Shall we
upraid Women with Folly, when 'tis only the Error of this inhumane
Custom that hindred them being made wiser."
So much for Female Ignorance and Folly; and now let us a
little consider the Pride which my Correspondent thinks is
intolerable. By this Expression of his, one would think he is
some dejected Swain, tyranniz'd over by some cruel haughty[105]
Nymph, who (perhaps he thinks) has no more Reason to be
proud than himself. Alas-a-day! What shall we say in this
Case! Why truly, if Women are proud, it is certainly owing to
the Men still; for if they will be such Simpletons as to humble
themselves at their Feet, and fill their credulous Ears with extravagant
Praises of their Wit, Beauty, and other Accomplishments
(perhaps where there are none too,) and when Women
are by this Means perswaded that they are Something more than
humane, what Wonder is it, if they carry themselves haughtily,
and live extravagantly. Notwithstanding, I believe there are
more Instances of extravagant Pride to be found among Men
than among Women, and this Fault is certainly more hainous
in the former than in the latter.
Upon the whole, I conclude, that it will be impossible to lash
any Vice, of which the Men, are not equally guilty with the
Women, and consequently deserve an equal (if not a greater),
Share in the Censure. However, I exhort both to amend, where
both are culpable, otherwise they may expect to be severely
handled by
Sir,
Your Humble Servant,
Silence Dogood.
N. B. Mrs. Dogood has lately left her Seat in the Country, and
come to Boston, where she intends to tarry for the Summer Season,
in order to compleat her Observations of the present reigning Vices
of the Town.
DOGOOD PAPERS, NO. VII
(From Monday June 18. to Monday June 25. 1722.)
To the Author of the New-England Courant.
Sir,
It has been the Complaint of many Ingenious Foreigners,[106]
who have travell'd amongst us, That good Poetry is not to be
expected in New-England. I am apt to Fancy, the Reason is,
not because our Countrymen are altogether void of a Poetical
Genius, nor yet because we have not those Advantages of Education
which other Countries have, but purely because we do
not afford that Praise and Encouragement which is merited,
when any thing extraordinary of this Kind is produc'd among
us: Upon which Consideration I have determined, when I meet
with a Good Piece of New-England Poetry, to give it a suitable
Encomium, and thereby endeavour to discover to the World
some of its Beautys, in order to encourage the Author to go on,
and bless the World with more, and more Excellent Productions.
There has lately appear'd among us a most Excellent Piece of
Poetry, entituled, An Elegy upon the much Lamented Death of
Mrs. Mehitebell Kitel, Wife of Mr. John Kitel of Salem, Etc.
It may justly be said in its Praise, without Flattery to the Author,
that it is the most Extraordinary Piece that was ever wrote in
New-England. The Language is so soft and Easy, the Expression
so moving and pathetick, but above all, the Verse and
Numbers so Charming and Natural, that it is almost beyond
Comparison.
The Muse disdains[F]
Those Links and Chains,
Measures and Rules of Vulgar Strains,
And o'er the Laws of Harmony a Sovereign Queen she reigns.
I find no English Author, Ancient or Modern, whose Elegies
may be compar'd with this, in respect to the Elegance of Stile,
or Smoothness of Rhime; and for the affecting Part, I will leave
your Readers to judge, if ever they read any Lines, that would
sooner make them draw their Breath and Sigh, if not shed Tears,
than these following.
Come let us mourn, for we have lost a
Wife, a Daughter, and a Sister,
Who has lately taken Flight, and
greatly we have mist her.
[107]
In another place,
Some little Time before she yielded up her Breath,
She said, I ne'er shall hear one Sermon more on Earth.
She kist her Husband some little Time before she expir'd,
Then lean'd her Head the Pillow on, just out of Breath and tir'd.
But the Threefold Appellation in the first Line
—a Wife, a Daughter, and a Sister,
must not pass unobserved. That Line in the celebrated Watts,
Gunston, the Just, the Generous, and the Young,
is nothing Comparable to it. The latter only mentions three
Qualifications of one Person who was deceased, which therefore
could raise Grief and Compassion but for One. Whereas the
former, (our most excellent Poet) gives his Reader a Sort of an
Idea of the Death of Three Persons, viz.
—a Wife, a Daughter, and a Sister,
which is Three Times as great a Loss as the Death of One, and
consequently must raise Three Times as much Grief and Compassion
in the Reader.
I should be very much straitened for Room, if I should
attempt to discover even half the Excellencies of this Elegy
which are obvious to me. Yet I cannot omit one Observation,
which is, that the Author has (to his Honour) invented a new
Species of Poetry, which wants a Name, and was never before
known. His muse scorns to be confin'd to the old Measures and
Limits, or to observe the dull Rules of Criticks;
Nor Rapin gives her Rules to fly, nor Purcell Notes to Sing.
Watts.
Now 'tis Pity that such an Excellent Piece should not be
dignify'd with a particular Name; and seeing it cannot justly be
called, either Epic, Sapphic, Lyric, or Pindaric, nor any other
Name yet invented, I presume it may, (in Honour and Remembrance
of the Dead) be called the Kitelic. Thus much in the
Praise of Kitelic Poetry.[108]
It is certain, that those Elegies which are of our own
Growth, (and our Soil seldom produces any other sort of
Poetry) are by far the greatest part, wretchedly Dull and
Ridiculous. Now since it is imagin'd by many, that our Poets
are honest, well-meaning Fellows, who do their best, and that if
they had but some Instructions how to govern Fancy with Judgment,
they would make indifferent good Elegies; I shall here
subjoin a Receipt for that purpose, which was left me as a Legacy,
(among other valuable Rarities) by my Reverend Husband.
It is as follows,
A Receipt to make a New-England
Funeral Elegy.
For the Title of your Elegy. Of these you may have enough
ready made to your Hands, but if you should chuse to make it your
self, you must be sure not to omit the words Ætatis Suæ, which will
Beautify it exceedingly.
For the Subject of your Elegy. Take one of your Neighbours
who has lately departed this Life; it is no great matter at what Age
the Party dy'd, but it will be best if he went away suddenly, being
Kill'd, Drown'd, or Frose to Death.
Having chose the Person, take all his Virtues, Excellencies, &c.
and if he have not enough, you may borrow some to make up a
sufficient Quantity: To these add his last Words, dying Expressions,
&c. if they are to be had; mix all these together, and be sure
you strain them well. Then season all with a Handful or two of
Melancholly Expressions, such as, Dreadful, Deadly, cruel cold
Death, unhappy Fate, weeping Eyes, &c. Have mixed all these
Ingredients well, put them into the empty Scull of some young
Harvard; (but in Case you have ne'er a One at Hand, you may use
your own,) there let them Ferment for the Space of a Fortnight,
and by that Time they will be incorporated into a Body, which take
out, and having prepared a sufficient Quantity of double Rhimes,
such as Power, Flower; Quiver, Shiver; Grieve us, Leave us;
tell you, excel you; Expeditions, Physicians; Fatigue him, Intrigue
him; &c. you must spread all upon Paper, and if you can
procure a Scrap of Latin to put at the End, it will garnish it[109]
mightily, then having affixed your Name at the Bottom, with a
Mœstus Composuit, you will have an Excellent Elegy.
N. B. This Receipt will serve when a Female is the Subject of
your Elegy, provided you borrow a greater Quantity of Virtues,
Excellencies, &c.
Sir,
Your Servant,
Silence Dogood.
P.S. I shall make no other Answer to Hypercarpus's Criticism
on my last Letter than this, Mater me genuit, peperit mox
filia matrem.
DOGOOD PAPERS, NO. XII
(From Monday September 3. to Monday September 10. 1722.)
Quod est in corde sobrii, est in ore ebrii.
To the Author of the New-England Courant.
Sir,
It is no unprofitable tho' unpleasant Pursuit, diligently to
inspect and consider the Manners & Conversation of Men, who,
insensible of the greatest Enjoyments of humane Life, abandon
themselves to Vice from a false Notion of Pleasure and good
Fellowship. A true and natural Representation of any Enormity,
is often the best Argument against it and Means of removing it,
when the most severe Reprehensions alone, are found ineffectual.
I would in this Letter improve the little Observation I have
made on the Vice of Drunkeness, the better to reclaim the good
Fellows who usually pay the Devotions of the Evening to
Bacchus.
I doubt not but moderate Drinking has been improv'd for the
Diffusion of Knowledge among the ingenious Part of Mankind,
who want the Talent of a ready Utterance, in order to discover
the Conceptions of their Minds in an entertaining and intelligible
Manner. 'Tis true, drinking does not improve our Faculties, but[110]
it enables us to use them; and therefore I conclude, that much
Study and Experience, and a little Liquor, are of absolute
Necessity for some Tempers, in order to make them accomplish'd
Orators. Dic. Ponder discovers an excellent Judgment
when he is inspir'd with a Glass or two of Claret, but he passes
for a Fool among those of small Observation, who never saw
him the better for Drink. And here it will not be improper to
observe, That the moderate Use of Liquor, and a well plac'd
and well regulated Anger, often produce this same Effect; and
some who cannot ordinarily talk but in broken Sentences and
false Grammar, do in the Heat of Passion express themselves
with as much Eloquence as Warmth. Hence it is that my own
Sex are generally the most eloquent, because the most passionate.
"It has been said in the Praise of some Men," (says an
ingenious Author,) "that they could talk whole Hours together
upon any thing; but it must be owned to the Honour of the
other Sex, that there are many among them who can talk whole
Hours together upon Nothing. I have known a Woman
branch out into a long extempore Dissertation on the Edging of
a Petticoat, and chide her Servant for breaking a China Cup, in
all the Figures of Rhetorick."
But after all it must be consider'd, that no Pleasure can give
Satisfaction or prove advantageous to a reasonable Mind, which
is not attended with the Restraints of Reason. Enjoyment is not
to be found by Excess in any sensual Gratification; but on the
contrary, the immoderate Cravings of the Voluptuary, are always
succeeded with Loathing and a palled Apetite. What
Pleasure can the Drunkard have in the Reflection, that, while
in his Cups, he retain'd only the Shape of a Man, and acted the
Part of a Beast; or that from reasonable Discourse a few Minutes
before, he descended to Impertinence and Nonsense?
I cannot pretend to account for the different Effects of Liquor
on Persons of different Dispositions, who are guilty of Excess
in the Use of it. 'Tis strange to see Men of a regular Conversation
become rakish and profane when intoxicated with Drink,
and yet more surprizing to observe, that some who appear to
be the most profligate Wretches when sober, become mighty[111]
religious in their Cups, and will then, and at no other Time address
their Maker, but when they are destitute of Reason, and
actually affronting him. Some shrink in the Wetting, and others
swell to such an unusual Bulk in their Imaginations, that they
can in an Instant understand all Arts and Sciences, by the liberal
Education of a little vivyfying Punch, or a sufficient Quantity
of other exhilerating Liquor.
And as the Effects of Liquor are various, so are the Characters
given to its Devourers. It argues some Shame in the Drunkards
themselves, in that they have invented numberless Words and
Phrases to cover their Folly, whose proper Significations are
harmless, or have no Signification at all. They are seldom
known to be drunk, tho they are very often boozey, cogey, tipsey,
fox'd, merry, mellow, fuddl'd, groatable, Confoundedly cut, See
two Moons, are Among the Philistines, In a very good Humour,
See the Sun, or, The Sun has shone upon them; they Clip the King's
English, are Almost froze, Feavourish, In their Altitudes, Pretty
well enter'd, &c.[18] In short, every Day produces some new
Word or Phrase which might be added to the Vocabulary of
the Tiplers: But I have chose to mention these few, because if
at any Time a Man of Sobriety and Temperance happens to cut
himself confoundedly, or is almoss froze, or feavourish, or accidentally
sees the Sun, &c. he may escape the Imputation of being
drunk, when his Misfortune comes to be related.
I am Sir,
Your Humble Servant,
Silence Dogood.
EDITORIAL PREFACE
TO THE NEW ENGLAND COURANT
(From Monday, February 4, to Monday, February 11, 1723)
The late Publisher of this Paper,[19] finding so many Inconveniences
would arise by his carrying the Manuscripts and
publick News to be supervis'd by the Secretary, as to render his
carrying it on unprofitable, has intirely dropt the Undertaking.[112]
The present Publisher having receiv'd the following Piece, desires
the Readers to accept of it as a Preface to what they may
hereafter meet with in this Paper.
Non ego mordaci distrinxi Carmine quenquam
Nulla vonenato Litera onista Joco est.
Long has the Press groaned in bringing forth an hateful, but
numerous Brood of Party Pamphlets, malicious Scribbles, and
Billinsgate Ribaldry. The Rancour and bitterness it has unhappily
infused into Men's minds, and to what a Degree it has
sowred and leaven'd the Tempers of Persons formerly esteemed
some of the most sweet and affable, is too well known here, to
need any further Proof or Representation of the Matter.
No generous and impartial Person then can blame the present
Undertaking, which is designed purely for the Diversion and
Merriment of the Reader. Pieces of Pleasancy and Mirth have
a secret Charm in them to allay the Heats and Tumours of our
Spirits, and to make a Man forget his restless Resentments.
They have a strange Power to tune the harsh Disorders of the
Soul, and reduce us to a serene and placid State of Mind.
The main Design of this Weekly Paper will be to entertain
the Town with the most comical and diverting Incidents of
Humane Life, which in so large a Place as Boston will not fail
of a universal Exemplification: Nor shall we be wanting to fill
up these Papers with a grateful Interspersion of more serious
Morals which may be drawn from the most ludicrous and odd
Parts of Life.
As for the Author, that is the next Question. But tho' we
profess ourselves ready to oblige the ingenious and courteous
Reader with most Sorts of Intelligence, yet here we beg a Reserve.
Nor will it be of any Manner of Advantage either to
them or to the Writers, that their names should be published;
and therefore in this Matter we desire the Favour of you to
suffer us to hold our Tongues: Which tho' at this Time of Day
it may sound like a very uncommon Request, yet it proceeds
from the very Hearts of your Humble Servants.[113]
By this Time the Reader perceives that more than one are
engaged in the present Undertaking. Yet is there one Person,
an Inhabitant of this Town of Boston, whom we honour as a
Doctor in the Chair, or a perpetual Dictator.
The Society had design'd to present the Publick with his
Effigies, but that the Limner, to whom he was presented for a
Draught of his Countenance, descryed (and this he is ready to
offer upon Oath) Nineteen Features in his Face, more than
ever he beheld in any Humane Visage before; which so raised
the Price of his Picture, that our Master himself forbid the Extravagance
of coming up to it. And then besides, the Limner
objected a Schism in his face, which splits it from his Forehead
in a strait Line down to his chin, in such sort, that Mr. Painter
protests it is a double Face, and he'll have Four Pounds for the
Pourtraiture. However, tho' this double Face has spoilt us of a
pretty Picture, yet we all rejoiced to see old Janus in our Company.
There is no Man in Boston better qualified than old Janus for
a Couranteer, or if you please, an Observator, being a Man of
such remarkable Opticks, as to look two ways at once.
As for his Morals, he is a chearly Christian, as the Country
Phrase expresses it. A Man of good Temper, courteous Deportment,
sound Judgment; a mortal Hater of Nonsense, Foppery,
Formality, and endless Ceremony.
As for his club, they aim at no greater Happiness or Honour,
than the Publick be made to know, that it is the utmost of their
Ambition to attend upon and do all imaginable good Offices to
good old Janus the Couranteer, who is and always will be the
Readers humble Servant.
P.S. Gentle Readers, we design never to let a Paper pass
without a Latin Motto if we can possibly pick one up, which
carries a Charm in it to the Vulgar, and the learned admire the
pleasure of Construing. We should have obliged the World
with a Greek scrap or two, but the Printer has no Types, and
therefore we intreat the candid Reader not to impute the defect
to our Ignorance, for our Doctor can say all the Greek Letters
by heart.[114]
A DISSERTATION ON LIBERTY
AND NECESSITY,
PLEASURE AND PAIN
To Mr. J. R.
[London, 1725]
Sir,
I have here, according to your Request, given you my present
Thoughts of the general State of Things in the Universe. Such as
they are, you have them, and are welcome to 'em; and if they
yield you any Pleasure or Satisfaction, I shall think my Trouble
sufficiently compensated. I know my Scheme will be liable to
many Objections from a less discerning Reader than your self;
but it is not design'd for those who can't understand it. I need
not give you any Caution to distinguish the hypothetical Parts
of the Argument from the conclusive: You will easily perceive
what I design for Demonstration, and what for Probability only.
The whole I leave entirely to you, and shall value my self more
or less on this account, in proportion to your Esteem and Approbation.
Sect. I. Of Liberty and Necessity
I. There is said to be a First Mover, who is called God,
Maker of the Universe.
II. He is said to be all-wise, all-good, all powerful.
These two Propositions being allow'd and asserted by People
of almost every Sect and Opinion; I have here suppos'd them
granted, and laid them down as the Foundation of my Argument;
What follows then, being a Chain of Consequences truly
drawn from them, will stand or fall as they are true or false.
III. If He is all-good, whatsoever He doth must be good.
IV. If He is all-wise, whatsoever He doth must be wise.
The Truth of these Propositions, with relation to the two
first, I think may be justly call'd evident; since, either that infinite
Goodness will act what is ill, or infinite Wisdom what is,
not wise, is too glaring a Contradiction not to be perceiv'd by[115]
any Man of common Sense, and deny'd as soon as understood.
V. If He is all-powerful, there can be nothing either existing or
acting in the Universe against or without his Consent, and what
He consents to must be good, because He is good, therefore Evil
doth not exist.
Unde Malum? has been long a Question, and many of the
Learned have perplex'd themselves and Readers to little Purpose
in Answer to it. That there are both Things and Actions to
which we give the Name of Evil, is not here deny'd, as Pain,
Sickness, Want, Theft, Murder, &c. but that these and the like
are not in reality Evils, Ills, or Defects in the Order of the
Universe, is demonstrated in the next Section, as well as by
this and the following Proposition. Indeed, to suppose any
Thing to exist or be done, contrary to the Will of the Almighty,
is to suppose him not almighty; or that Something (the Cause
of Evil) is more mighty than the Almighty; an Inconsistence
that I think no One will defend: And to deny any Thing or
Action, which he consents to the existence of, to be good, is
entirely to destroy his two Attributes of Wisdom and Goodness.
There is nothing done in the Universe, say the Philosophers,
but what God either does, or permits to be done. This, as He is
Almighty, is certainly true: But what need of this Distinction
between doing and permitting? Why, first they take it for granted
that many Things in the Universe exist in such a Manner as is
not for the best, and that many Actions are done which ought
not to be done, or would be better undone; these Things or
Actions they cannot ascribe to God as His, because they have
already attributed to Him infinite Wisdom and Goodness; Here
then is the Use of the Word Permit; He permits them to be done,
say they. But we will reason thus: If God permits an Action to
be done, it is because he wants either Power or Inclination to
hinder it; in saying he wants Power, we deny Him to be almighty;
and if we say He wants Inclination or Will, it must be,
either because He is not Good, or the Action is not evil, (for
all Evil is contrary to the Essence of Infinite Goodness.) The
former is inconsistent with his before-given Attribute of Goodness,
therefore the latter must be true.[116]
It will be said, perhaps, that God permits evil Actions to be
done, for wise Ends and Purposes. But this Objection destroys
itself; for whatever an infinitely good God hath wise Ends in
suffering to be, must be good, is thereby made good, and cannot
be otherwise.
VI. If a Creature is made by God, it must depend upon God, and
receive all its Power from Him, with which Power the Creature
can do nothing contrary to the Will of God, because God is Almighty;
what is not contrary to His Will, must be agreeable to it;
what is agreeable to it, must be good, because He is Good; therefore
a Creature can do nothing but what is good.
This Proposition is much to the same Purpose with the
former, but more particular; and its Conclusion is as just and
evident. Tho' a Creature may do many Actions which by his
Fellow Creatures will be nam'd Evil, and which will naturally
and necessarily cause or bring upon the Doer, certain Pains
(which will likewise be call'd Punishments;) yet this Proposition
proves, that he cannot act what will be in itself really Ill, or displeasing
to God. And that the painful Consequences of his evil
Actions (so call'd) are not, as indeed they ought not to be, Punishments
or Unhappinesses, will be shewn hereafter.
Nevertheless, the late learned Author of The Religion of
Nature, (which I send you herewith) has given us a Rule or
Scheme, whereby to discover which of our Actions ought to be
esteem'd and denominated good, and which evil; It is in short
this, "Every Action which is done according to Truth, is good;
and every Action contrary to Truth, is evil: To act according
to Truth is to use and esteem every Thing as what it is, &c.
Thus if A steals a Horse from B, and rides away upon him, he
uses him not as what he is in Truth, viz. the Property of another,
but as his own, which is contrary to Truth, and therefore evil."
But, as this Gentleman himself says, (Sect. I. Prop. VI.) "In
order to judge rightly what any Thing is, it must be consider'd,
not only what it is in one Respect, but also what it may be in
any other Respect; and the whole Description of the Thing
ought to be taken in: So in this Case it ought to be consider'd,
that A is naturally a covetous Being, feeling an Uneasiness in the[117]
want of B's Horse, which produces an Inclination for stealing
him, stronger than his Fear of Punishment for so doing. This is
Truth likewise, and A acts according to it when he steals the
Horse. Besides, if it is prov'd to be a Truth, that A has not Power
over his own Actions, it will be indisputable that he acts according
to Truth, and impossible he should do otherwise.
I would not be understood by this to encourage or defend
Theft; 'tis only for the sake of the Argument, and will certainly
have no ill Effect. The Order and Course of Things will not be
affected by Reasoning of this Kind; and 'tis as just and necessary,
and as much according to Truth, for B to dislike and punish the
Theft of his Horse, as it is for A to steal him.
VII. If the Creature is thus limited in his Actions, being able to
do only such Things as God would have him to do, and not being
able to refuse doing what God would have done; then he can have
no such Thing as Liberty, Free-will or Power to do or refrain an
Action.
By Liberty is sometimes understood the Absence of Opposition;
and in this Sense, indeed, all our Actions may be said to be
the Effects of our Liberty: But it is a Liberty of the same Nature
with the Fall of a heavy Body to the Ground; it has Liberty to
fall, that is, it meets with nothing to hinder its Fall, but at the
same Time it is necessitated to fall, and has no Power or Liberty
to remain suspended.
But let us take the Argument in another View, and suppose
ourselves to be, in the common sense of the Word, Free Agents.
As Man is a Part of this great Machine, the Universe, his regular
Acting is requisite to the regular moving of the whole. Among
the many Things which lie before him to be done, he may, as
he is at Liberty and his Choice influenc'd by nothing, (for so it
must be, or he is not at Liberty) chuse any one, and refuse the
rest. Now there is every Moment something best to be done,
which is alone then good, and with respect to which, every Thing
else is at that Time evil. In order to know which is best to be
done, and which not, it is requisite that we should have at one
View all the intricate Consequences of every Action with respect
to the general Order and Scheme of the Universe, both present[118]
and future; but they are innumerable and incomprehensible by
any Thing but Omniscience. As we cannot know these, we have
but as one Chance to ten thousand, to hit on the right Action;
we should then be perpetually blundering about in the Dark,
and putting the Scheme in Disorder; for every wrong Action of
a Part, is a Defect or Blemish in the Order of the Whole. Is it
not necessary then, that our Actions should be over-rul'd and
govern'd by an all-wise Providence?—How exact and regular
is every Thing in the natural World! How wisely in every Part
contriv'd! We cannot here find the least Defect! Those who
have study'd the mere animal and vegetable Creation, demonstrate
that nothing can be more harmonious and beautiful!
All the heavenly Bodies, the Stars and Planets, are regulated with
the utmost Wisdom! And can we suppose less Care to be taken
in the Order of the moral than in the natural System? It is as
if an ingenious Artificer, having fram'd a curious Machine or
Clock, and put its many intricate Wheels and Powers in such a
Dependance on one another, that the whole might move in
the most exact Order and Regularity, had nevertheless plac'd
in it several other Wheels endu'd with an independent Self-Motion,
but ignorant of the general Interest of the Clock; and
these would every now and then be moving wrong, disordering
the true Movement, and making continual Work for the Mender:
which might better be prevented, by depriving them of that
Power of Self-Motion, and placing them in a Dependance on the
regular Part of the Clock.
VIII. If there is no such Thing as Free-Will in Creatures, there
can be neither Merit nor Demerit in Creatures.
IX. And therefore every Creature must be equally esteem'd by the
Creator.
These Propositions appear to be the necessary Consequences
of the former. And certainly no Reason can be given, why the
Creator should prefer in his Esteem one Part of His Works to
another, if with equal Wisdom and Goodness he design'd and
created them all, since all Ill or Defect, as contrary to his Nature,
is excluded by his Power. We will sum up the Argument thus,
When the Creator first design'd the Universe, either it was His[119]
Will and Intention that all Things should exist and be in the
Manner they are at this Time; or it was his Will they should be
otherwise, i.e. in a different Manner: To say it was His Will
Things should be otherwise than they are, is to say Somewhat
hath contradicted His Will, and broken His Measures, which is
impossible because inconsistent with his Power; therefore we
must allow that all Things exist now in a Manner agreeable to
His Will, and in consequence of that are all equally Good, and
therefore equally esteem'd by Him.
I proceed now to shew, that as all the Works of the Creator
are equally esteem'd by Him, so they are, as in Justice they ought
to be, equally us'd.
Sect. II. Of Pleasure and Pain.
I. When a Creature is form'd and endu'd with Life, 'tis suppos'd
to receive a Capacity of the Sensation of Uneasiness or Pain.
It is this distinguishes Life and Consciousness from unactive
unconscious Matter. To know or be sensible of Suffering or
being acted upon is to live; and whatsoever is not so, among
created Things, is properly and truly dead.
All Pain and Uneasiness proceeds at first from and is caus'd
by Somewhat without and distinct from the Mind itself. The
Soul must first be acted upon before it can re-act. In the Beginning
of Infancy it is as if it were not; it is not conscious of
its own Existence, till it has receiv'd the first Sensation of Pain;
then, and not before, it begins to feel itself, is rous'd, and put
into Action; then it discovers its Powers and Faculties, and
exerts them to expel the Uneasiness. Thus is the Machine set
on work; this is Life. We are first mov'd by Pain, and the whole
succeeding Course of our Lives is but one continu'd Series of
Action with a View to be freed from it. As fast as we have excluded
one Uneasiness another appears, otherwise the Motion
would cease. If a continual Weight is not apply'd, the Clock
will stop. And as soon as the Avenues of Uneasiness to the
Soul are choak'd up or cut off, we are dead, we think and act
no more.[120]
II. This Uneasiness, whenever felt, produces Desire to be freed
from it, great in exact proportion to the Uneasiness.
Thus is Uneasiness the first Spring and Cause of all Action;
for till we are uneasy in Rest, we can have no Desire to move,
and without Desire of moving there can be no voluntary Motion.
The Experience of every Man who has observ'd his own
Actions will evince the Truth of this; and I think nothing need
be said to prove that the Desire will be equal to the Uneasiness,
for the very Thing implies as much: It is not Uneasiness unless
we desire to be freed from it, nor a great Uneasiness unless the
consequent Desire is great.
I might here observe, how necessary a Thing in the Order
and Design of the Universe this Pain or Uneasiness is, and how
beautiful in its Place! Let us but suppose it just now banish'd
the World entirely, and consider the Consequence of it: All the
Animal Creation would immediately stand stock still, exactly in
the Posture they were in the Moment Uneasiness departed; not
a Limb, not a Finger would henceforth move; we should all be
reduc'd to the Condition of Statues, dull and unactive: Here I
should continue to sit motionless with the Pen in my Hand
thus———and neither leave my Seat nor write one Letter
more. This may appear odd at first View, but a little Consideration
will make it evident; for 'tis impossible to assign any other
Cause for the voluntary Motion of an Animal than its uneasiness
in Rest. What a different Appearance then would the Face of
Nature make, without it! How necessary is it! And how unlikely
that the Inhabitants of the World ever were, or that the
Creator ever design'd they should be, exempt from it!
I would likewise observe here, that the VIIIth Proposition
in the preceding Section, viz. That there is neither Merit nor
Demerit, &c. is here again demonstrated, as infallibly, tho' in
another manner: For since Freedom from Uneasiness is the End
of all our Actions, how is it possible for us to do any Thing
disinterested?—How can any Action be meritorious of Praise or
Dispraise, Reward or Punishment, when the natural Principle
of Self-Love is the only and the irresistible Motive to it?
III. This Desire is always fulfill'd or satisfy'd,[121]
In the Design or End of it, tho' not in the Manner: The first
is requisite, the latter not. To exemplify this, let us make a
Supposition; A Person is confin'd in a House which appears to
be in imminent Danger of Falling, this, as soon as perceiv'd,
creates a violent Uneasiness, and that instantly produces an equal
strong Desire, the End of which is freedom from the Uneasiness,
and the Manner or Way propos'd to gain this End, is to get out
of the House. Now if he is convinc'd by any Means, that he is
mistaken, and the House is not likely to fall, he is immediately
freed from his Uneasiness, and the End of his Desire is attain'd
as well as if it had been in the Manner desir'd, viz. leaving the
House.
All our different Desires and Passions proceed from and are
reducible to this one Point, Uneasiness, tho' the Means we propose
to ourselves for expelling of it are infinite. One proposes
Fame, another Wealth, a third Power, &c. as the Means to gain
this End; but tho' these are never attain'd, if the Uneasiness be
remov'd by some other Means, the Desire is satisfy'd. Now
during the Course of Life we are ourselves continually removing
successive Uneasinesses as they arise, and the last we suffer is
remov'd by the sweet Sleep of Death.
IV. The fulfilling or Satisfaction of this Desire, produces the
Sensation of Pleasure, great or small in exact proportion to the
Desire.
Pleasure is that Satisfaction which arises in the Mind upon,
and is caus'd by, the accomplishment of our Desires, and by no
other Means at all; and those Desires being above shewn to be
caus'd by our Pains or Uneasinesses, it follows that Pleasure is
wholly caus'd by Pain, and by no other Thing at all.
V. Therefore the Sensation of Pleasure is equal, or in exact proportion
to the Sensation of Pain.
As the Desire of being freed from Uneasiness is equal to the
Uneasiness, and the Pleasure of satisfying that Desire equal to
the Desire, the Pleasure thereby produc'd must necessarily be
equal to the Uneasiness or Pain which produces it: of three
Lines, A, B, and C, if A is equal to B, and B to C, C must be
equal to A. And as our Uneasinesses are always remov'd by[122]
some Means or other, it follows that Pleasure and Pain are in
their Nature inseparable: So many Degrees as one Scale of the
Ballance descends, so many exactly the other ascends; and one
cannot rise or fall without the Fall or Rise of the other: 'Tis
impossible to taste of Pleasure, without feeling its preceding
proportionate Pain; or to be sensible of Pain, without having
its necessary Consequent Pleasure: The highest Pleasure is only
Consciousness of Freedom from the deepest Pain, and Pain is
not Pain to us unless we ourselves are sensible of it. They go
Hand in Hand; they cannot be divided.
You have a View of the whole Argument in a few familiar
Examples: The Pain of Abstinence from Food, as it is greater
or less, produces a greater or less Desire of Eating, the Accomplishment
of this Desire produces a greater or less Pleasure proportionate
to it. The Pain of Confinement causes the Desire of
Liberty, which accomplish'd, yields a Pleasure equal to that
Pain of Confinement. The Pain of Labour and Fatigue causes
the Pleasure of Rest, equal to that Pain. The Pain of Absence
from Friends, produces the Pleasure of Meeting in exact proportion.
&c.
This is the fixt Nature of Pleasure and Pain, and will always
be found to be so by those who examine it.
One of the most common Arguments for the future Existence
of the Soul, is taken from the generally suppos'd Inequality of
Pain and Pleasure in the present; and this, notwithstanding the
Difficulty by outward Appearances to make a Judgment of
another's Happiness, has been look'd upon as almost unanswerable:
but since Pain naturally and infallibly produces a Pleasure
in proportion to it, every individual Creature must, in any State
of Life, have an equal Quantity of each, so that there is not, on
that Account, any Occasion for a future Adjustment.
Thus are all the Works of the Creator equally us'd by him;
And no Condition of Life or Being is in itself better or preferable
to another: The Monarch is not more happy than the
Slave, nor the Beggar more miserable than Crœsus. Suppose
A, B, and C, three distinct Beings; A and B, animate, capable of
Pleasure and Pain, C an inanimate Piece of Matter, insensible[123]
of either. A receives ten Degrees of Pain, which are necessarily
succeeded by ten Degrees of Pleasure: B receives fifteen of
Pain, and the consequent equal Number of Pleasure: C all the
while lies unconcern'd, and as he has not suffer'd the former, has
no right to the latter. What can be more equal and just than
this? When the Accounts come to be adjusted, A has no Reason
to complain that his Portion of Pleasure was five Degrees less
than that of B, for his Portion of Pain was five Degrees less
likewise: Nor has B any Reason to boast that his Pleasure was
five Degrees greater than that of A, for his Pain was proportionate:
They are then both on the same Foot with C, that is,
they are neither Gainers nor Losers.
It will possibly be objected here, that even common Experience
shews us, there is not in Fact this Equality: "Some we
see hearty, brisk and chearful perpetually, while others are
constantly burden'd with a heavy Load of Maladies and Misfortunes,
remaining for Years perhaps in Poverty, Disgrace, or
Pain, and die at last without any Appearance of Recompence."
Now tho' 'tis not necessary, when a Proposition is demonstrated
to be a general Truth, to shew in what manner it agrees
with the particular Circumstances of Persons, and indeed ought
not to be requir'd; yet, as this is a common Objection, some
Notice may be taken of it: And here let it be observ'd, that we
cannot be proper Judges of the good or bad Fortune of Others;
we are apt to imagine, that what would give us a great Uneasiness
or a great Satisfaction, has the same Effect upon others: we
think, for Instance, those unhappy, who must depend upon
Charity for a mean Subsistence, who go in Rags, fare hardly,
and are despis'd and scorn'd by all; not considering that Custom
renders all these Things easy, familiar, and even pleasant. When
we see Riches, Grandeur and a chearful Countenance, we easily
imagine Happiness accompanies them, when oftentimes 'tis
quite otherwise: Nor is a constantly sorrowful Look, attended
with continual Complaints, an infallible Indication of Unhappiness.
In short, we can judge by nothing but Appearances, and
they are very apt to deceive us. Some put on a gay chearful
Outside, and appear to the World perfectly at Ease, tho' even[124]
then, some inward Sting, some secret Pain imbitters all their
Joys, and makes the Ballance even: Others appear continually
dejected and full of Sorrow; but even Grief itself is sometimes
pleasant, and Tears are not always without their Sweetness:
Besides, Some take a Satisfaction in being thought unhappy,
(as others take a Pride in being thought humble,) these will
paint their Misfortunes to others in the strongest Colours, and
leave no Means unus'd to make you think them throughly
miserable; so great a Pleasure it is to them to be pitied. Others
retain the Form and outside Shew of Sorrow, long after the
Thing itself, with its Cause, is remov'd from the Mind; it is a
Habit they have acquir'd and cannot leave. These, with many
others that might be given, are Reasons why we cannot make
a true Estimate of the Equality of the Happiness and Unhappiness
of others; and unless we could, Matter of Fact cannot be
opposed to this Hypothesis. Indeed, we are sometimes apt to
think, that the Uneasinesses we ourselves have had, outweigh
our Pleasures; but the Reason is this, the Mind takes no Account
of the latter, they flip away un-remark'd, when the former leave
more lasting Impressions on the Memory. But suppose we pass
the greatest part of Life in Pain and Sorrow, suppose we die
by Torments and think no more, 'tis no Diminution to the Truth
of what is here advanc'd; for the Pain, tho' exquisite, is not so
to the last Moments of Life, the Senses are soon benumm'd, and
render'd incapable of transmitting it so sharply to the Soul as
at first; She perceives it cannot hold long, and 'tis an exquisite
Pleasure to behold the immediate Approaches of Rest. This
makes an Equivalent tho' Annihilation should follow: For the
Quantity of Pleasure and Pain is not to be measur'd by its
Duration, any more than the Quantity of Matter by its Extension;
and as one cubic Inch may be made to contain, by Condensation,
as much Matter as would fill ten thousand cubic
Feet, being more expanded, so one single Moment of Pleasure
may outweigh and compensate an Age of Pain.
It was owing to their Ignorance of the Nature of Pleasure
and Pain that the Antient Heathens believ'd the idle Fable of
their Elizium, that State of uninterrupted Ease and Happiness![125]
The Thing is intirely impossible in Nature! Are not the Pleasures
of the Spring made such by the Disagreeableness of the
Winter? Is not the Pleasure of fair Weather owing to the Unpleasantness
of foul? Certainly. Were it then always Spring,
were the Fields always green and nourishing, and the Weather
constantly serene and fair, the Pleasure would pall and die upon
our Hands; it would cease to be Pleasure to us, when it is not
usher'd in by Uneasiness. Could the Philosopher visit, in
reality, every Star and Planet with as much Ease and Swiftness
as he can now visit their Ideas, and pass from one to another
of them in the Imagination; it would be a Pleasure I grant;
but it would be only in proportion to the Desire of accomplishing
it, and that would be no greater than the Uneasiness suffer'd
in the Want of it. The Accomplishment of a long and
difficult Journey yields a great Pleasure; but if we could take a
Trip to the Moon and back again, as frequently and with as much
Ease as we can go and come from Market, the Satisfaction would
be just the same.
The Immateriality of the Soul has been frequently made use
of as an Argument for its Immortality; but let us consider, that
tho' it should be allow'd to be immaterial, and consequently its
Parts incapable of Separation or Destruction by any Thing material,
yet by Experience we find, that it is not incapable of Cessation
of Thought, which is its Action. When the Body is but
a little indispos'd it has an evident Effect upon the Mind; and a
right Disposition of the Organs is requisite to a right Manner of
Thinking. In a sound Sleep sometimes, or in a Swoon, we cease
to think at all; tho' the Soul is not therefore then annihilated,
but exists all the while tho' it does not act; and may not this
probably be the Case after Death? All our Ideas are first admitted
by the Senses and imprinted on the Brain, increasing
in Number by Observation and Experience; there they become
the Subjects of the Soul's Action. The Soul is a mere Power or
Faculty of contemplating on, and comparing those Ideas when it
has them; hence springs Reason: But as it can think on nothing
but Ideas, it must have them before it can think at all. Therefore
as it may exist before it has receiv'd any Ideas, it may exist before[126]
it thinks. To remember a Thing, is to have the Idea of it
still plainly imprinted on the Brain, which the Soul can turn to
and contemplate on Occasion. To forget a Thing, is to have
the Idea of it defac'd and destroy'd by some Accident, or the
crouding in and imprinting of great variety of other Ideas upon
it, so that the Soul cannot find out its Traces and distinguish
it. When we have thus lost the Idea of any one Thing, we can
think no more, or cease to think, on that Thing; and as we can
lose the Idea of one Thing, so we may of ten, twenty, a hundred,
&c. and even of all Things, because they are not in their Nature
permanent; and often during Life we see that some Men, (by
an Accident or Distemper affecting the Brain,) lose the greatest
Part of their Ideas, and remember very little of their past Actions
and Circumstances. Now upon Death, and the Destruction
of the Body, the Ideas contain'd in the Brain, (which are
alone the Subjects of the Soul's Action) being then likewise
necessarily destroy'd, the Soul, tho' incapable of Destruction
itself, must then necessarily cease to think or act, having nothing
left to think or act upon. It is reduc'd to its first unconscious
State before it receiv'd any Ideas. And to cease to think is but
little different from ceasing to be.
Nevertheless, 'tis not impossible that this same Faculty of
contemplating Ideas may be hereafter united to a new Body,
and receive a new Set of Ideas; but that will no way concern us
who are now living; for the Identity will be lost, it is no longer
that same Self but a new Being.
I shall here subjoin a short Recapitulation of the Whole, that
it may with all its Parts be comprehended at one View.
1. It is suppos'd that God the Maker and Governour of the
Universe, is infinitely wise, good, and powerful.
2. In consequence of His Infinite Wisdom and Goodness, it is
asserted, that whatever He doth must be infinitely wise and good;
3. Unless He be interrupted, and His Measures broken by
some other Being, which is impossible because He is Almighty.
4. In consequence of His infinite Power, it is asserted, that
nothing can exist or be done in the Universe which is not agreeable
to His Will, and therefore good.[127]
5. Evil is hereby excluded, with all Merit and Demerit; and
likewise all preference in the Esteem of God, of one Part of the
Creation to another. This is the Summary of the first Part.
Now our common Notions of Justice will tell us, that if all
created Things are equally esteem'd by the Creator, they ought
to be equally us'd by Him; and that they are therefore equally
us'd, we might embrace for Truth upon the Credit, and as the
true Consequence of the foregoing Argument. Nevertheless we
proceed to confirm it, by shewing how they are equally us'd,
and that in the following Manner.
1. A Creature when endu'd with Life or Consciousness, is made
capable of Uneasiness or Pain.
2. This Pain produces Desire to be freed from it, in exact
proportion to itself.
3. The Accomplishment of this Desire produces an equal
Pleasure.
4. Pleasure is consequently equal to Pain.
From these Propositions it is observ'd,
1. That every Creature hath as much Pleasure as Pain.
2. That Life is not preferable to Insensibility; for Pleasure and
Pain destroy one another: That Being which has ten Degrees of
Pain subtracted from ten of Pleasure, has nothing remaining, and
is upon an equality with that Being which is insensible of both.
3. As the first Part proves that all Things must be equally us'd
by the Creator because equally esteem'd; so this second Part demonstrates
that they are equally esteem'd because equally us'd.
4. Since every Action is the Effect of Self-Uneasiness, the
Distinction of Virtue and Vice is excluded; and Prop. VIII. in
Sect. I. again demonstrated.
5. No State of Life can be happier than the present, because
Pleasure and Pain are inseparable.
Thus both Parts of this Argument agree with and confirm
one another, and the Demonstration is reciprocal.
I am sensible that the Doctrine here advanc'd, if it were to
be publish'd, would meet with but an indifferent Reception.
Mankind naturally and generally love to be flatter'd: Whatever
sooths our Pride, and tends to exalt our Species above the rest[128]
of the Creation, we are pleas'd with and easily believe, when
ungrateful Truths shall be with the utmost Indignation rejected.
"What! bring ourselves down to an Equality with the Beasts
of the Field! with the meanest part of the Creation! 'Tis insufferable!"
But, (to use a Piece of common Sense) our Geese
are but Geese tho' we may think 'em Swans, and Truth will be
Truth tho' it sometimes prove mortifying and distasteful.
RULES FOR A CLUB
ESTABLISHED FOR MUTUAL IMPROVEMENT[20]
[1728]
Previous Question, To Be Answered At Every Meeting
Have you read over these queries this morning, in order to
consider what you might have to offer the Junto touching any
one of them? viz.
1. Have you met with any thing in the author you last read,
remarkable, or suitable to be communicated to the Junto? particularly
in history, morality, poetry, physic, travels, mechanic
arts, or other parts of knowledge.
2. What new story have you lately heard agreeable for telling
in conversation?
3. Hath any citizen in your knowledge failed in his business
lately, and what have you heard of the cause?
4. Have you lately heard of any citizen's thriving well, and
by what means?
5. Have you lately heard how any present rich man, here or
elsewhere, got his estate?
6. Do you know of a fellow citizen, who has lately done a
worthy action, deserving praise and imitation; or who has lately
committed an error, proper for us to be warned against and
avoid?
7. What unhappy effects of intemperance have you lately
observed or heard; of imprudence, of passion, or of any other
vice or folly?
8. What happy effects of temperance, of prudence, of moderation,
or of any other virtue?[129]
9. Have you or any of your acquaintance been lately sick or
wounded? If so, what remedies were used, and what were their
effects?
10. Whom do you know that are shortly going voyages or
journeys, if one should have occasion to send by them?
11. Do you think of any thing at present, in which the Junto
may be serviceable to mankind, to their country, to their friends,
or to themselves?
12. Hath any deserving stranger arrived in town since last
meeting, that you have heard of? And what have you heard
or observed of his character or merits? And whether, think you,
it lies in the power of the Junto to oblige him, or encourage him
as he deserves?
13. Do you know of any deserving young beginner lately
set up, whom it lies in the power of the Junto any way to encourage?
14. Have you lately observed any defect in the laws of your
country, of which it would be proper to move the legislature for
an amendment? Or do you know of any beneficial law that is
wanting?
15. Have you lately observed any encroachment on the just
liberties of the people?
16. Hath any body attacked your reputation lately? And
what can the Junto do towards securing it?
17. Is there any man whose friendship you want, and which
the Junto, or any of them, can procure for you?
18. Have you lately heard any member's character attacked,
and how have you defended it?
19. Hath any man injured you, from whom it is in the power
of the Junto to procure redress?
20. In what manner can the Junto, or any of them, assist
you in any of your honourable designs?
21. Have you any weighty affair on hand, in which you
think the advice of the Junto may be of service?
22. What benefits have you lately received from any man
not present?
23. Is there any difficulty in matters of opinion, of justice,[130]
and injustice, which you would gladly have discussed at this
time?
24. Do you see any thing amiss in the present customs or
proceedings of the Junto, which might be amended?
Any person to be qualified [as a member of the Junto], to
stand up, and lay his hand upon his breast, and be asked these
questions, viz.
1. Have you any particular disrespect to any present members?
Answer. I have not.
2. Do you sincerely declare, that you love mankind in general,
of what profession or religion soever? Answer. I do.
3. Do you think any person ought to be harmed in his body,
name, or goods, for mere speculative opinions, or his external
way of worship? Answer. No.
4. Do you love truth for truth's sake, and will you endeavour
impartially to find and receive it yourself, and communicate it
to others? Answer. Yes.
ARTICLES OF BELIEF AND ACTS OF RELIGION
In Two Parts[21]
Part I
Philada, Nov. 20: 1728
FIRST PRINCIPLES
I believe there is one supreme, most perfect Being, Author
and Father of the Gods themselves. For I believe that Man is
not the most perfect Being but one, rather that as there are
many Degrees of Beings his Inferiors, so there are many Degrees
of Beings superior to him.[131]
Also, when I stretch my Imagination thro' and beyond our
System of Planets, beyond the visible fix'd Stars themselves,
into that Space that is every Way infinite, and conceive it fill'd
with Suns like ours, each with a Chorus of Worlds forever moving
round him, then this little Ball on which we move, seems,
even in my narrow Imagination, to be almost Nothing, and myself
less than nothing, and of no sort of Consequence.
When I think thus, I imagine it great Vanity in me to suppose,
that the Supremely Perfect does in the least regard such an inconsiderable
Nothing as Man. More especially, since it is impossible
for me to have any positive clear idea of that which is
infinite and incomprehensible, I cannot conceive otherwise than
that he the Infinite Father expects or requires no Worship or
Praise from us, but that he is even infinitely above it.
But, since there is in all Men something like a natural principle,
which inclines them to DEVOTION, or the Worship of some
unseen Power;
And since Men are endued with Reason superior to all other
Animals, that we are in our World acquainted with;
Therefore I think it seems required of me, and my Duty as
a Man, to pay Divine Regards to Something.
I conceive then, that the Infinite has created many beings
or Gods, vastly superior to Man, who can better conceive his
Perfections than we, and return him a more rational and glorious
Praise.
As, among Men, the Praise of the Ignorant or of Children is
not regarded by the ingenious Painter or Architect, who is
rather honour'd and pleas'd with the approbation of Wise Men
& Artists.
It may be that these created Gods are immortal; or it may be
that after many Ages, they are changed, and others Supply their
Places.
Howbeit, I conceive that each of these is exceeding wise and
good, and very powerful; and that Each has made for himself
one glorious Sun, attended with a beautiful and admirable System
of Planets.
It is that particular Wise and good God, who is the author[132]
and owner of our System, that I propose for the object of my
praise and adoration.
For I conceive that he has in himself some of those Passions
he has planted in us, and that, since he has given us Reason
whereby we are capable of observing his Wisdom in the Creation,
he is not above caring for us, being pleas'd with our Praise,
and offended when we slight Him, or neglect his Glory.
I conceive for many Reasons, that he is a good Being; and as
I should be happy to have so wise, good, and powerful a Being
my Friend, let me consider in what manner I shall make myself
most acceptable to him.
Next to the Praise resulting from and due to his Wisdom, I
believe he is pleas'd and delights in the Happiness of those he
has created; and since without Virtue Man can have no Happiness
in this World, I firmly believe he delights to see me Virtuous,
because he is pleased when he sees Me Happy.
And since he has created many Things, which seem purely
design'd for the Delight of Man, I believe he is not offended,
when he sees his Children solace themselves in any manner of
pleasant exercises and Innocent Delights; and I think no Pleasure
innocent, that is to Man hurtful.
I love him therefore for his Goodness, and I adore him for his
Wisdom.
Let me then not fail to praise my God continually, for it is
his Due, and it is all I can return for his many Favours and great
Goodness to me; and let me resolve to be virtuous, that I may
be happy, that I may please Him, who is delighted to see me
happy. Amen!
ADORATION
Prel. Being mindful that before I address the Deity, my
soul ought to be calm and serene, free from Passion and Perturbation,
or otherwise elevated with Rational Joy and Pleasure,
I ought to use a Countenance that expresses a filial Respect,
mixed wth a kind of Smiling, that Signifies inward Joy, and Satisfaction,
and Admiration.
O wise God, my good Father![133]
Thou beholdest the sincerity of my Heart and of my Devotion;
Grant me a Continuance of thy Favour!
1. O Creator, O Father! I believe that thou art Good, and
that thou art pleas'd with the pleasure of thy children.—Praised
be thy name for Ever!
2. By thy Power hast thou made the glorious Sun, with his
attending Worlds; from the energy of thy mighty Will, they
first received [their prodigious] motion, and by thy Wisdom
hast thou prescribed the wondrous Laws, by which they move.—Praised
be thy name for Ever!
3. By thy Wisdom hast thou formed all Things. Thou hast
created Man, bestowing Life and Reason, and placed him in
Dignity superior to thy other earthly Creatures.—Praised be
thy name for Ever!
4. Thy Wisdom, thy Power, and thy Goodness are everywhere
clearly seen; in the air and in the water, in the Heaven
and on the Earth; Thou providest for the various winged Fowl,
and the innumerable Inhabitants of the Water; thou givest Cold
and Heat, Rain and Sunshine, in their Season, & to the Fruits
of the Earth Increase.—Praised be thy name for Ever!
5. Thou abhorrest in thy Creatures Treachery and Deceit,
Malice, Revenge, [Intemperance,] and every other hurtful Vice;
but Thou art a Lover of Justice and Sincerity, of Friendship
and Benevolence, and every Virtue. Thou art my Friend, my
Father, and my Benefactor.—Praised be thy name, O God, for
Ever! Amen!
[After this, it will not be improper to read part of some such
Book as Ray's Wisdom of God in the Creation, or Blackmore on
the Creation, or the Archbishop of Cambray's Demonstration of
the Being of a God, &c., or else spend some Minutes in a serious
Silence, contemplating on those Subjects.]
Then sing
MILTON'S HYMN TO THE CREATOR
"These are thy Glorious Works, Parent of Good!
Almighty, Thine this Universal Frame,
Thus wondrous fair! Thyself how wondrous then!
[134]
Speak ye who best can tell, Ye Sons of Light,
Angels, for ye behold him, and with Songs
And Choral Symphonies, Day without Night,
Circle his Throne rejoicing you in Heav'n,
On Earth join all ye creatures to extol
Him first, him last, him midst, and without End.
"Fairest of Stars, last in the Train of Night,
If rather Thou belongst not to the Dawn,
Sure Pledge of Day! thou crown'st the smiling Morn
With thy bright Circlet, Praise him in thy Sphere
While Day arises, that sweet Hour of Prime.
Thou Sun, of this great World, both Eye and Soul,
Acknowledge him thy greater; Sound his Praise
In thy eternal Course; both when thou climb'st,
And when high Noon hast gain'd, and when thou fall'st.
Moon! that now meet'st the orient sun, now fly'st,
With the fixed Stars, fixed in their orb that flies,
And ye five other wandering Fires, that move
In mystic Dance not without Song; resound
His Praise, that out of Darkness called up Light.
Air! and ye Elements! the eldest Birth
Of Nature's womb, that in Quaternion run
Perpetual Circle, multiform, and mix
And nourish all things, let your ceaseless Change
Vary to our great Maker still new Praise.
Ye mists and Exhalations, that now rise
From Hill or steaming lake, dusky or grey,
Till the Sun paint your fleecy skirts with Gold,
In honour to the World's Great Author rise;
Whether to deck with Clouds the uncolor'd sky,
Or wet the thirsty Earth wth falling show'rs,
Rising or falling still advance his Praise.
His Praise, ye Winds! that from 4 quarters blow,
Breathe soft or Loud; and wave your Tops, ye Pines!
With every Plant, in sign of worship wave.
Fountains! and ye that warble, as ye flow
Melodious Murmurs, warbling tune his Praise.
Join voices all ye living souls, ye Birds!
That singing, up to Heaven's high gate ascend,
Bear on your wings, & in your Note his Praise;
Ye that in Waters glide! and ye that walk
[135]
The Earth! and stately tread or lowly creep;
Witness if I be silent, Ev'n or Morn,
To Hill, or Valley, Fountain, or Fresh Shade,
Made Vocal by my Song, and taught his Praise."
[Here follows the Reading of some Book, or part of a Book,
Discoursing on and exciting to Moral Virtue.]
PETITION
Inasmuch as by Reason of our Ignorance We cannot be certain
that many Things, which we often hear mentioned in the
Petitions of Men to the Deity, would prove real Goods, if they
were in our Possession, and as I have reason to hope and believe
that the Goodness of my Heavenly Father will not withold
from me a suitable share of Temporal Blessings, if by a Virtuous
and holy Life I conciliate his Favour and Kindness, Therefore
I presume not to ask such things, but rather humbly and
with a Sincere Heart, express my earnest desires that he would
graciously assist my Continual Endeavours and Resolutions of
eschewing Vice and embracing Virtue; which Kind of Supplications
will at least be thus far beneficial, as they remind me in
a solemn manner of my Extensive duty.
That I may be preserved from Atheism & Infidelity, Impiety,
and Profaneness, and, in my Addresses to Thee, carefully avoid
Irreverence and ostentation, Formality and odious Hypocrisy,—Help
me, O Father!
That I may be loyal to my Prince, and faithful to my country,
careful for its good, valiant in its defence, and obedient to its
Laws, abhorring Treason as much as Tyranny,—Help me, O
Father!
That I may to those above me be dutiful, humble, and submissive;
avoiding Pride, Disrespect, and Contumacy,—Help
me, O Father!
That I may to those below me be gracious, Condescending,
and Forgiving, using Clemency, protecting innocent Distress,
avoiding Cruelty, Harshness, and Oppression, Insolence, and
unreasonable Severity,—Help me, O Father![136]
That I may refrain from Censure, Calumny and Detraction;
that I may avoid and abhor Deceit and Envy, Fraud, Flattery,
and Hatred, Malice, Lying, and Ingratitude,—Help me, O
Father!
That I may be sincere in Friendship, faithful in trust, and
Impartial in Judgment, watchful against Pride, and against
Anger (that momentary Madness),—Help me, O Father!
That I may be just in all my Dealings, temperate in my Pleasures,
full of Candour and Ingenuity, Humanity and Benevolence,—Help
me, O Father!
That I may be grateful to my Benefactors, and generous to
my Friends, exercising Charity and Liberality to the Poor, and
Pity to the Miserable,—Help me, O Father!
That I may avoid Avarice and Ambition, Jealousie, and Intemperance,
Falsehood, Luxury, and Lasciviousness,—Help me,
O Father!
That I may possess Integrity and Evenness of Mind, Resolution
in Difficulties, and Fortitude under Affliction; that I may
be punctual in performing my promises, Peaceable and prudent
in my Behaviour,—Help me, O Father!
That I may have Tenderness for the Weak, and reverent
Respect for the Ancient; that I may be Kind to my Neighbours,
good-natured to my Companions, and hospitable to Strangers,—Help
me, O Father!
That I may be averse to Talebearing, Backbiting, Detraction,
Slander, & Craft, and overreaching, abhor Extortion, Perjury,
and every Kind of wickedness,—Help me, O Father!
That I may be honest and open-hearted, gentle, merciful,
and good, cheerful in spirit, rejoicing in the Good of others,—Help
me, O Father!
That I may have a constant Regard to Honour and Probity,
that I may possess a perfect innocence and a good Conscience,
and at length become truly Virtuous and Magnanimous,—Help
me, good God; help me, O Father![G][137]
And, forasmuch as ingratitude is one of the most odious of
vices, let me not be unmindful gratefully to acknowledge the
favours I receive from Heaven.
THANKS
For peace and liberty, for food and raiment, for corn, and
wine, and milk, and every kind of healthful nourishment,—Good
God, I thank thee!
For the common benefits of air and light; for useful fire and
delicious water,—Good God, I thank thee!
For knowledge, and literature, and every useful art, for my
friends and their prosperity, and for the fewness of my enemies,—Good
God, I thank thee!
For all thy innumerable benefits; for life, and reason, and the
use of speech; for health, and joy, and every pleasant hour,—My
good God, I thank thee!
THE BUSY-BODY, NO. 1[22]
Tuesday, February 4th, 1728/9
Mr. Andrew Bradford,
I design this to acquaint you, that I, who have long been one
of your Courteous Readers, have lately entertain'd some
Thoughts of setting up for an Author mySelf; not out of the
least Vanity, I assure you, or Desire of showing my Parts, but
purely for the Good of my Country.
I have often observ'd with Concern that your Mercury is not
always equally entertaining. The Delay of Ships expected in,
and want of fresh Advices from Europe, make it frequently very
Dull; and I find the Freezing of our River has the same Effect on
News as on Trade. With more Concern have I continually
observ'd the growing Vices and Follies of my Country-folk;
and, tho' Reformation is properly the concern of every Man;
that is, Every one ought to mend One; yet 'tis too true in this
Case, that what is every Body's Business is nobody's Business;
and the Business is done accordingly. I therefore, upon mature
Deliberation, think fit to take Nobody's Business wholly into[138]
my own Hands; and, out of Zeal for the Publick Good, design
to erect mySelf into a Kind of Censor Morum; proposing, with
your Allowance, to make Use of the Weekly Mercury as a
Vehicle in which my Remonstrances shall be convey'd to the
World.
I am sensible I have in this Particular undertaken a very unthankful
Office, and expect little besides my Labour for my
Pains. Nay, 'tis probable I may displease a great Number of
your Readers, who will not very well like to pay 10s. a Year for
being told of their Faults. But, as most People delight in Censure
when they themselves are not the Objects of it, if any are
offended at my publickly exposing their private Vices, I promise
they shall have the Satisfaction, in a very little Time, of seeing
their good Friends and Neighbours in the same Circumstances.
However, let the Fair Sex be assur'd that I shall always treat
them and their Affairs with the utmost Decency and Respect.
I intend now and then to dedicate a Chapter wholly to their
Service; and if my Lectures any Way contribute to the Embellishment
of their Minds and brightning of their Understandings,
without offending their Modesty, I doubt not of having their
Favour and Encouragement.
'Tis certain, that no Country in the World produces naturally
finer Spirits than ours; Men of Genius for every kind of Science,
and capable of acquiring to Perfection every Qualification that
is in Esteem among Mankind. But as few here have the Advantage
of good Books, for want of which, good Conversation is
still more scarce, it would doubtless have been very acceptable
to your Readers, if, instead of an old out-of-date Article from
Muscovy or Hungary, you had entertained them with some
well-chosen Extract from a good Author. This I shall sometimes
do, when I happen to have nothing of my own to say that
I think of more Consequence. Sometimes I propose to deliver
Lectures of Morality or Philosophy, and (because I am naturally
enclin'd to be meddling with Things that don't concern me)
perhaps I may sometimes talk Politicks. And if I can by any
means furnish out a Weekly Entertainment for the Publick that
will give a rational Diversion, and at the same Time be instructive[139]
to the Readers, I shall think my Leisure Hours well employ'd:
And if you publish this, I hereby invite all ingenious
Gentlemen and others (that approve of such an Undertaking)
to my Assistance and Correspondence.
'Tis like by this Time, you have a Curiosity to be acquainted
with my Name and Character. As I do not aim at publick Praise,
I design to remain concealed; and there are such Numbers of
our Family and Relations at this Time in the Country, that tho'
I've sign'd my Name at full Length, I am not under the least
Apprehension of being distinguish'd and discover'd by it. My
Character, indeed, I would favour you with, but that I am
cautious of praising mySelf, lest I should be told my Trumpeter's
dead: And I cannot find in my Heart at present, to say
any Thing to my own Disadvantage.
It is very common with Authors, in their first Performances,
to talk to their Readers thus; "If this meets with a SUITABLE
Reception; Or, If this should meet with DUE Encouragement,
I shall hereafter publish, &c." This only manifests the Value
they put on their own Writings, since they think to frighten the
Publick into their Applause, by threatning, that unless you
approve what they have already wrote, they intend never to
write again; when perhaps it mayn't be a Pin Matter whether
they ever do or no. As I have not observ'd the Criticks to be
more favourable on this Account, I shall always avoid saying
any Thing of the Kind; and conclude with telling you, that, if
you send me a Bottle of Ink and a Quire of Paper by the Bearer,
you may depend on hearing further from, Sir, your most humble
Servant,
The Busy-Body.
THE BUSY-BODY, NO. 2
Tuesday, February 11, 1728/9
Monsieur de la Rochefoucault tells us somewhere in his
Memoirs, that the Prince of Condé delighted much in ridicule,[140]
and used frequently to shut himself up for half a day together
in his chamber, with a gentleman that was his favorite, purposely
to divert himself with examining what was the foible or ridiculous
side of every noted person in the court. That gentleman
said afterwards in some company, that he thought nothing was
more ridiculous in anybody, than this same humour in the
Prince; and I am somewhat inclined to be of this opinion. The
general tendency there is among us to this embellishment, which I
fear has too often grossly imposed upon my loving countrymen
instead of wit, and the applause it meets with from a rising generation,
fill me with fearful apprehensions for the future reputation
of my country. A young man of modesty (which is the
most certain indication of large capacities) is hereby discouraged
from attempting to make any figure in life; his apprehensions of
being out-laughed will force him to continue in a restless obscurity,
without having an opportunity of knowing his own
merit himself or discovering it to the world, rather than venture
to oppose himself in a place where a pun or a sneer shall pass for
wit, noise for reason, and the strength of the argument be judged
by that of the lungs.
Among these witty gentlemen let us take a view of Ridentius.
What a contemptible figure does he make with his train of paltry
admirers! This wight shall give himself an hour's diversion
with the cock of a man's hat, the heels of his shoes, an unguarded
expression in his discourse, or even some personal defect; and
the height of his low ambition is to put some one of the company
to the blush, who perhaps must pay an equal share of the
reckoning with himself. If such a fellow makes laughing the
sole end and purpose of his life; if it is necessary to his constitution,
or if he has a great desire of growing suddenly fat, let
him eat; let him give public notice where any dull stupid rogue
may get a quart of four-penny for being laughed at; but it is
barbarously unhandsome, when friends meet for the benefit of
conversation and a proper relaxation from business, that one
should be the butt of the company, and four men made merry at
the cost of the fifth.
How different from this character is that of the good-natured,[141]
gay Eugenius, who never spoke yet but with a design to divert
and please, and who was never yet baulked in his intention.
Eugenius takes more delight in applying the wit of his friends,
than in being admired himself; and if any one of the company is
so unfortunate as to be touched a little too nearly, he will make
use of some ingenious artifice to turn the edge of ridicule another
way, choosing rather to make himself a public jest, than
be at the pain of seeing his friend in confusion.
Among the tribe of laughers, I reckon the petty gentlemen
that write satires, and carry them about in their pockets, reading
them themselves in all company they happen into; taking an
advantage of the ill taste of the town to make themselves famous
for a pack of paltry, low nonsense, for which they deserve to be
kicked rather than admired, by all who have the least tincture of
politeness. These I take to be the most incorrigible of all my
readers; nay, I expect they will be squibbing at the Busy-Body
himself. However, the only favour he begs of them is this, that
if they cannot control their overbearing itch of scribbling, let
him be attacked in downright biting lyrics; for there is no satire
he dreads half so much as an attempt towards a panegyric.
THE BUSY-BODY, NO. 3
Tuesday, February 18th, 1728/9
It is said that the Persians, in their ancient Constitution, had
publick Schools in which Virtue was taught as a Liberal Art or
Science; and it is certainly of more Consequence to a Man, that
he has learnt to govern his Passions; in spite of Temptation to
be just in his Dealings, to be Temperate in his Pleasures, to
support himself with Fortitude under his Misfortunes, to behave
with Prudence in all Affairs, and in every Circumstance of[142]
Life; I say, it is of much more real Advantage to him to be thus
qualified, than to be a Master of all the Arts and Sciences in the
World beside.
Virtue alone is sufficient to make a Man Great, Glorious, and
Happy. He that is acquainted with Cato, as I am, cannot help
thinking as I do now, and will acknowledge he deserves the
Name, without being honour'd by it. Cato is a Man whom
Fortune has plac'd in the most obscure Part of the Country.
His Circumstances are such, as only put him above Necessity,
without affording him many Superfluities; Yet who is greater
than Cato? I happened but the other Day to be at a House in
Town, where, among others, were met Men of the most Note
in this Place. Cato had Business with some of them, and knock'd
at the Door. The most trifling Actions of a Man, in my Opinion,
as well as the smallest Features and Lineaments of the Face,
give a nice Observer some Notion of his Mind. Methought he
rapp'd in such a peculiar Manner, as seem'd of itself to express
there was One, who deserv'd as well as desir'd Admission. He
appear'd in the plainest Country Garb; his Great Coat was
coarse, and looked old and threadbare; his Linnen was home-spun;
his Beard perhaps of Seven Days' Growth; his Shoes
thick and heavy; and every Part of his Dress corresponding.
Why was this Man receiv'd with such concurring Respect from
every Person in the Room, even from those who had never
known him or seen him before? It was not an exquisite Form of
Person, or Grandeur of Dress, that struck us with Admiration.
I believe long Habits of Virtue have a sensible Effect on the
Countenance. There was something in the Air of his Face, that
manifested the true Greatness of his Mind, which likewise appear'd
in all he said, and in every Part of his Behaviour, obliging
us to regard him with a Kind of Veneration. His Aspect is
sweetened with Humanity and Benevolence, and at the same
Time enboldned with Resolution, equally free from a diffident
Bashfulness and an unbecoming Assurance. The Consciousness
of his own innate Worth and unshaken Integrity renders him
calm and undaunted in the Presence of the most Great and
Powerful, and upon the most extraordinary Occasions. His[143]
strict Justice and known Impartiality make him the Arbitrator
and Decider of all Differences, that arise for many Miles around
him, without putting his Neighbours to the Charge, Perplexity,
and Uncertainty of Law-Suits. He always speaks the Thing he
means, which he is never afraid or asham'd to do, because he
knows he always means well, and therefore is never oblig'd to
blush, and feel the Confusion of finding himself detected in the
Meanness of a Falsehood. He never contrives Ill against his
Neighbour, and therefore is never seen with a lowring, suspicious
Aspect. A mixture of Innocence and Wisdom makes him ever
seriously chearful. His generous Hospitality to Strangers, according
to his Ability; his Goodness, his Charity, his Courage in
the Cause of the Oppressed, his Fidelity in Friendship, his
Humility, his Honesty and Sincerity, his Moderation, and his
Loyalty to the Government; his Piety, his Temperance, his Love
to Mankind, his Magnanimity, his Publick-Spiritedness, and in
fine, his consummate Virtue, make him justly deserve to be
esteem'd the Glory of his Country.
"The Brave do never shun the Light;
Just are their Thoughts, and open are their Tempers;
Freely without Disguise they love and hate;
Still are they found in the fair Face of Day,
And Heaven and Men are Judges of their Actions."
—Rowe.
Who would not rather chuse, if it were in his Choice, to merit
the above Character, than be the richest, the most learned, or
the most powerful Man in the Province without it?
Almost every Man has a strong natural Desire of being valu'd
and esteem'd by the rest of his Species, but I am concern'd and
griev'd to see how few fall into the Right and only infallible
Method of becoming so. That laudable Ambition is too commonly
misapply'd, and often ill employ'd. Some to make themselves
considerable pursue Learning, others grasp at Wealth;
some aim at being thought witty; and others are only careful to
make the most of an handsome Person; But what is Wit, or
Wealth, or Form, or Learning, when compar'd with Virtue?[144]
'Tis true, we love the handsome, we applaud the Learned, and
we fear the Rich and Powerful; but we even Worship and adore
the Virtuous. Nor is it strange; since Men of Virtue are so rare,
so very rare to be found. If we were as industrious to become
Good as to make ourselves Great, we should become really
Great by being Good, and the Number of valuable Men would
be much increased; but it is a Grand Mistake to think of being
Great without Goodness; and I pronounce it as certain, that
there was never yet a truly Great Man, that was not at the same
Time truly Virtuous.
O Cretico! thou sowre Philosopher! Thou cunning Statesman!
Thou art crafty, but far from being Wise. When wilt
thou be esteem'd, regarded, and belov'd like Cato? When wilt
thou, among thy Creatures, meet with that unfeign'd respect
and warm Good-will, that all Men have for him? Wilt thou
never understand, that the cringing, mean, submissive Deportment
of thy Dependents, is (like the worship paid by Indians to
the Devil) rather thro' Fear of the Harm thou may'st do to
them, than out of Gratitude for the Favours they have receiv'd of
thee? Thou art not wholly void of Virtue; there are many good
Things in thee, and many good Actions reported of thee. Be
advised by thy Friend. Neglect those musty Authors; let them
be cover'd with Dust, and moulder on their proper Shelves; and
do thou apply thyself to a Study much more profitable, The
knowledge of Mankind and of thySelf.
This is to give Notice, that the Busy-Body strictly forbids
all Persons, from this Time forward, of what Age, Sex, Rank,
Quality, Degree, or Denomination soever, on any Pretence, to
enquire who is the Author of this Paper, on Pain of his Displeasure,
(his own near and Dear Relations only excepted).
'Tis to be observ'd, that if any bad Characters happen to be
drawn in the Course of these Papers, they mean no particular
Person, if they are not particularly apply'd.
Likewise, that the Author is no Party-man, but a general
Meddler.
N. B. Cretico lives in a neighbouring Province.[145]
THE BUSY-BODY, NO. 4
Tuesday, February 25, 1728/9.
Ne quid nimis.
In my first Paper I invited the Learned and the Ingenious to
join with me in this Undertaking, and I now repeat that Invitation.
I would have such Gentlemen take this Opportunity (by
trying their Talent in Writing) of diverting themselves and their
Friends, and improving the Taste of the Town. And because I
would encourage all Wit of our own Growth and Produce, I
hereby promise, that whoever shall send me a little Essay on
some moral or other Subject, that is fit for publick View in this
Manner, (and not basely borrow'd from any other Author,) I
shall receive it with Candour, and take care to place it to the
best Advantage. It will be hard if we cannot muster up in the
whole Country a sufficient Stock of Sense to supply the Busy-Body
at least for a Twelvemonth.
For my own Part, I have already profess'd, that I have the
Good of my Country wholly at Heart in this Design, without
the least sinister View; my chief Purpose being to inculcate the
noble Principles of Virtue, and depreciate Vice of every kind.
But, as I know the Mob hate Instruction, and the Generality
would never read beyond the first Line of my Lectures, if they
were actually fill'd with nothing but wholesome Precepts and
Advice, I must therefore sometimes humor them in their own
Way. There are a Set of Great Names in the Province, who are
the common Objects of Popular Dislike. If I can now and then
overcome my Reluctance, and prevail with myself to satyrize a
little one of these Gentlemen, the Expectation of meeting with
such a Gratification will induce many to read me through, who
would otherwise proceed immediately to the Foreign News. As
I am very well assured the greatest Men among us have a sincere
Love for their Country, notwithstanding its Ingratitude, and
the Insinuations of the Envious and Malicious to the contrary, so
I doubt not but they will chearfully tolerate me in the Liberty I
design to take for the End above mentioned.[146]
As yet I have but few Correspondents, tho' they begin now
to increase. The following Letter, left for me at the Printer's, is
one of the first I have receiv'd, which I regard the more for that
it comes from one of the Fair Sex, and because I have myself
oftentimes suffer'd under the Grievance therein complain'd of.
"TO THE BUSY-BODY
"Sir,
"You having set yourself up for a Censuror Morum, (as I
think you call it), which is said to mean a Reformer of Manners,
I know no Person more proper to be apply'd to for Redress in
all the Grievances we suffer from Want of Manners, in some
People. You must know I am a single Woman, and keep a Shop
in this Town for a Livelyhood. There is a certain Neighbour of
mine, who is really agreeable Company enough, and with whom
I have had an Intimacy of some Time standing; but of late she
makes her visits so excessively often, and stays so very long
every Visit, that I am tir'd out of all Patience. I have no Manner
of Time at all to myself; and you, who seem to be a wise Man,
must needs be sensible that every Person has little Secrets and
Privacies, that are not proper to be expos'd even to the nearest
Friend. Now I cannot do the least Thing in the World, but
she must know all about it; and it is a Wonder I have found an
Opportunity to write you this Letter. My Misfortune is, that I
respect her very well, and know not how to disoblige her so
much as to tell her I should be glad to have less other Company;
for if I should once hint such a Thing, I am afraid she would resent
it so as never to darken my Door again.
"But alas, Sir, I have not yet told you half my Affliction. She
has two Children, that are just big enough to run about and do
pretty Mischief; these are continually along with Mamma, either
in my Room or Shop, if I have ever so many Customers or
People with me about Business. Sometimes they pull the
Goods off my low Shelves down to the Ground, and perhaps
where one of them has just been making Water. My Friend
takes up the Stuff, and cries, 'Eh! thou little wicked mischievous[147]
Rogue! But, however, it has done no great Damage; 'tis only
wet a little;' and so puts it up upon the Shelf again. Sometimes
they get to my Cask of Nails behind the Counter, and divert
themselves, to my great Vexation, with mixing my Ten-penny,
and Eight-penny, and Four-penny, together. I endeavour to
conceal my Uneasiness as much as possible, and with a grave
Look go to Sorting them out. She cries, 'Don't thee trouble
thyself, Neighbour: Let them play a little; I'll put all to rights
myself before I go.' But Things are never so put to rights, but
that I find a great deal of Work to do after they are gone. Thus,
Sir, I have all the Trouble and Pesterment of Children, without
the Pleasure of—calling them my own; and they are now so
us'd to being here, that they will be content nowhere else. If
she would have been so kind as to have moderated her Visits to
ten times a Day, and stay'd but half an hour at a Time, I should
have been contented, and I believe never have given you this
Trouble. But this very Morning they have so tormented me,
that I could bear no longer; for, while the Mother was asking me
twenty impertinent Questions, the youngest got to my Nails,
and with great Delight rattled them by handfuls all over the
Floor; and the other, at the same Time, made such a terrible Din
upon my Counter with a Hammer, that I grew half distracted.
I was just then about to make myself a new Suit of Pinners; but
in the Fret and Confusion I cut it quite out of all Manner of
Shape, and utterly spoil'd a Piece of the first Muslin.
"Pray, Sir, tell me what I shall do; and talk a little against
such unreasonable Visiting in your next Paper; tho' I would not
have her affronted with me for a great Deal, for sincerely I love
her and her Children, as well, I think, as a Neighbour can, and
she buys a great many Things in a Year at my Shop. But I
would beg her to consider, that she uses me unmercifully, Tho'
I believe it is only for want of Thought. But I have twenty
Things more to tell you besides all this: There is a handsome
Gentleman, that has a Mind (I don't question) to make love to
me, but he can't get the least Opportunity to—O dear! here
she comes again; I must conclude, yours, &c.
"Patience."
[148]
Indeed, 'tis well enough, as it happens, that she is come to
shorten this Complaint, which I think is full long enough already,
and probably would otherwise have been as long again.
However, I must confess, I cannot help pitying my Correspondent's
Case; and, in her Behalf, exhort the Visitor to remember
and consider the Words of the Wise Man, "Withdraw
thy Foot from the House of thy Neighbour, lest he grow weary
of thee, and so hate thee." It is, I believe, a nice thing, and very
difficult, to regulate our Visits in such a Manner, as never to give
Offence by coming too seldom, or too often, or departing too
abruptly, or staying too long. However, in my Opinion, it is
safest for most People in a general way, who are unwilling to disoblige,
to visit seldom, and tarry but a little while in a Place,
notwithstanding pressing invitations, which are many times insincere.
And tho' more of your Company should be really
desir'd, yet in this Case, too much Reservedness is a Fault more
easily excus'd than the Contrary.
Men are subjected to various Inconveniences meerly through
lack of a small Share of Courage, which is a Quality very necessary
in the common Occurrences of Life, as well as in a Battle.
How many Impertinences do we daily suffer with great Uneasiness,
because we have not Courage enough to discover our Dislike?
And why may not a Man use the Boldness and Freedom of
telling his Friends, that their long Visits sometimes incommode
him? On this Occasion, it may be entertaining to some of my
Readers, if I acquaint them with the Turkish Manner of entertaining
Visitors, which I have from an Author of unquestionable Veracity;
who assures us, that even the Turks are not so
ignorant of Civility and the Arts of Endearment, but that they
can practise them with as much Exactness as any other Nation,
whenever they have a Mind to shew themselves obliging.
"When you visit a Person of Quality," (says he) "and have
talk'd over your Business, or the Complements, or whatever
Concern brought you thither, he makes a Sign to have Things
serv'd in for the Entertainment, which is generally, a little
Sweetmeat, a Dish of Sherbet, and another of Coffee; all which[149]
are immediately brought in by the Servants, and tender'd to
all the Guests in Order, with the greatest Care and Awfulness
imaginable. At last comes the finishing Part of your Entertainment,
which is, Perfuming the Beards of the Company; a Ceremony
which is perform'd in this Manner. They have for the
Purpose a small Silver Chaffing-Dish, cover'd with a Lid full of
Holes, and fixed upon a handsome Plate. In this they put some
fresh Coals, and upon them a piece of Lignum Aloes, and shutting
it up, the smoak immediately ascends with a grateful Odour
thro' the Holes of the Cover. This smoak is held under every
one's Chin, and offer'd as it were a Sacrifice to his Beard. The
bristly Idol soon receives the Reverence done to it, and so
greedily takes in and incorporates the gummy Steam, that it retains
the Savour of it, and may serve for a Nosegay a good while
after.
"This Ceremony may perhaps seem ridiculous at first hearing,
but it passes among the Turks for a high Gratification. And I
will say this in its Vindication, that its Design is very wise and
useful. For it is understood to give a civil Dismission to the
Visitants, intimating to them, that the Master of the House has
Business to do, or some other Avocation, that permits them to
go away as soon as they please, and the sooner after this Ceremony
the better. By this Means you may, at any Time, without
Offence, deliver yourself from being detain'd from your Affairs
by tedious and unseasonable Visits; and from being constrain'd
to use that Piece of Hypocrisy, so common in the World, of
pressing those to stay longer with you, whom perhaps in your
Heart you wish a great Way off for having troubled you so long
already."
Thus far my Author. For my own Part, I have taken such a
Fancy to this Turkish Custom, that for the future I shall put
something like it in Practice. I have provided a Bottle of right
French Brandy for the Men, and Citron-Water for the Ladies.
After I have treated with a Dram, and presented a Pinch of my
best Snuff, I expect all Company will retire, and leave me to pursue
my Studies for the Good of the Publick.
[150]
ADVERTISEMENT
I give Notice, that I am now actually compiling, and design
to publish in a short Time, the true History of the Rise, Growth,
and Progress of the renowned Tiff-Club. All Persons who are
acquainted with any Facts, Circumstances, Characters, Transactions,
&c. which will be requisite to the Perfecting and Embellishment
of the said Work, are desired to communicate the same
to the Author, and direct their Letters to be left with the Printer
hereof.
The Letter, sign'd "Would-be-Something," is come to hand.
PREFACE TO THE PENNSYLVANIA GAZETTE
October 2, 1729
The Pennsylvania Gazette being now to be carry'd on by
other Hands, the Reader may expect some Account of the
Method we design to proceed in.[23]
Upon a view of Chambers's great Dictionaries, from whence
were taken the Materials of the Universal Instructor in all Arts
and Sciences, which usually made the First Part of this Paper, we
find that besides their containing many Things abstruse or insignificant
to us, it will probably be fifty Years before the Whole
can be gone thro' in this Manner of Publication. There are likewise
in those Books continual References from Things under
one Letter of the Alphabet to those under another, which relate
to the same Subject, and are necessary to explain and compleat
it; these taken in their Turn may perhaps be Ten Years distant;
and since it is likely that they who desire to acquaint themselves
with any particular Art or Science, would gladly have the whole
before them in much less time, we believe our Readers will not
think such a Method of communicating Knowledge to be a
proper One.
However, tho' we do not intend to continue the Publication
of those Dictionaries in a regular Alphabetical Method, as has
hitherto been done; yet as several Things exhibited from them[151]
in the Course of these Papers, have been entertaining to such of
the Curious, who never had and cannot have the Advantage of
good Libraries; and as there are many Things still behind, which
being in this Manner made generally known, may perhaps become
of considerable Use, by giving such Hints to the excellent
natural Genius's of our Country, as may contribute either to
the Improvement of our present Manufactures, or towards the
Invention of new Ones; we propose from Time to Time to communicate
such particular Parts as appear to be of the most
general Consequence.
As to the "Religious Courtship," Part of which has been
retal'd to the Publick in these Papers, the Reader may be inform'd,
that the whole Book will probably in a little Time be
printed and bound up by itself; and those who approve of it,
will doubtless be better pleas'd to have it entire, than in this
broken interrupted Manner.
There are many who have long desired to see a good News-Paper
in Pennsylvania; and we hope those Gentlemen who are
able, will contribute towards the making This such. We ask
Assistance, because we are fully sensible, that to publish a good
News-Paper is not so easy an Undertaking as many People
imagine it to be. The Author of a Gazette (in the Opinion of
the Learned) ought to be qualified with an extensive Acquaintance
with Languages, a great Easiness and Command of Writing
and Relating Things clearly and intelligibly, and in few Words;
he should be able to speak of War both by Land and Sea; be
well acquainted with Geography, with the History of the Time,
with the several Interests of Princes and States, the Secrets of
Courts, and the Manners and Customs of all Nations. Men thus
accomplish'd are very rare in this remote Part of the World;
and it would be well if the Writer of these Papers could make
up among his Friends what is wanting in himself.
Upon the Whole, we may assure the Publick, that as far as
the Encouragement we meet with will enable us, no Care and
Pains shall be omitted, that may make the Pennsylvania Gazette
as agreeable and useful an Entertainment as the Nature of the
Thing will allow.[152]
A DIALOGUE
BETWEEN PHILOCLES AND HORATIO,
MEETING ACCIDENTALLY IN THE FIELDS,
CONCERNING VIRTUE AND PLEASURE
[From the Pennsylvania Gazette, June 23, 1730.][24]
Philocles. My friend Horatio! I am very glad to see you;
prithee, how came such a Man as you alone? and musing too?
What Misfortune in your Pleasures has sent you to Philosophy
for Relief?
Horatio. You guess very right, my dear Philocles! We
Pleasure-hunters are never without 'em; and yet, so enchanting
is the Game! we can't quit the Chace. How calm and undisturbed
is your Life! How free from present Embarrassments
and future Cares! I know you love me, and look with Compassion
upon my Conduct; Shew me then the Path which leads up
to that constant and invariable Good, which I have heard you so
beautifully describe, and which you seem so fully to possess.
Phil. There are few Men in the World I value more than you,
Horatio! for amidst all your Foibles and painful Pursuits of
Pleasure, I have oft observed in you an honest Heart, and a
Mind strongly bent towards Virtue. I wish, from my Soul, I
could assist you in acting steadily the Part of a reasonable Creature;
for, if you would not think it a Paradox, I should tell you
I love you better than you do yourself.
Hor. A Paradox indeed! Better than I do myself! When I
love my dear self so well, that I love every Thing else for my
own sake.
Phil. He only loves himself well, who rightly and judiciously
loves himself.
Hor. What do you mean by that, Philocles! You Men of
Reason and Virtue are always dealing in Mysteries, tho' you
laugh at 'em when the Church makes 'em. I think he loves himself
very well and very judiciously too, as you call it, who allows
himself to do whatever he pleases.[153]
Phil. What, though it be to the Ruin and Destruction of that
very Self which he loves so well! That Man alone loves himself
rightly, who procures the greatest possible Good to himself
thro' the whole of his Existence; and so pursues Pleasure as not
to give for it more than 'tis worth.
Hor. That depends all upon Opinion. Who shall judge what
the Pleasure is worth? Supposing a pleasing Form of the fair
Kind strikes me so much, that I can enjoy nothing without the
Enjoyment of that one Object. Or, that Pleasure in general is so
favorite a Mistress, that I will take her as Men do their Wives, for
better, for worse; mind no Consequences, nor regarding what's
to come. Why should I not do it?
Phil. Suppose, Horatio, that a Friend of yours entred into the
World about Two-and-Twenty, with a healthful vigorous Body,
and a fair plentiful Estate of about Five Hundred Pounds a
Year; and yet, before he had reached Thirty, should, by following
his Pleasures, and not, as you say, duly regarding Consequences,
have run out of his Estate, and disabled his Body to
that Degree, that he had neither the Means nor Capacity of
Enjoyment left, nor any Thing else to do but wisely shoot himself
through the Head to be at rest; what would you say to this
unfortunate Man's Conduct? Is it wrong by Opinion or Fancy
only? Or is there really a Right and Wrong in the Case? Is not
one Opinion of Life and Action juster than another? Or, one
Sort of Conduct preferable to another? Or, does that miserable
Son of Pleasure appear as reasonable and lovely a Being in your
Eyes, as a Man who, by prudently and rightly gratifying his
natural Passions, had preserved his Body in full Health, and his
Estate entire, and enjoy'd both to a good old Age, and then died
with a thankful Heart for the good Things he had received, and
with an entire Submission to the Will of Him who first called
him into Being? Say, Horatio! are these Men equally wise and
happy? And is every Thing to be measured by mere Fancy and
Opinion, without considering whether that Fancy or Opinion
be right?
Hor. Hardly so neither, I think; yet sure the wise and good
Author of Nature could never make us to plague us. He could[154]
never give us Passions, on purpose to subdue and conquer 'em;
nor produce this Self of mine, or any other self, only that it
may be denied; for that is denying the Works of the great Creator
himself. Self-denial, then, which is what I suppose you mean
by Prudence, seems to me not only absurd, but very dishonourable
to that Supreme Wisdom and Goodness, which is supposed
to make so ridiculous and Contradictious a Creature, that
must be always fighting with himself in order to be at rest, and
undergo voluntary Hardships in order to be happy: Are we
created sick, only to be commanded to be Sound? Are we born
under one Law, our Passions, and yet bound to another, that of
Reason? Answer me, Philocles, for I am warmly concerned for
the Honour of Nature, the Mother of us all.
Phil. I find, Horatio, my two Characters have affrighted you;
so that you decline the Trial of what is Good, by reason: And
had rather make a bold Attack upon Providence; the usual Way
of you Gentlemen of Fashion, who, when by living in Defiance
of the eternal Rules of Reason, you have plunged yourselves into
a thousand Difficulties, endeavour to make yourselves easy by
throwing the Burden upon Nature. You are, Horatio, in a very
miserable Condition indeed; for you say you can't be happy if
you controul your Passions; and you feel yourself miserable by
an unrestrained Gratification of 'em; so that here's Evil, irremediable
Evil, either way.
Hor. That is very true, at least it appears so to me: Pray,
what have you to say, Philocles! in Honour of Nature or Providence;
methinks I'm in Pain for her: How do you rescue her?
poor Lady!
Phil. This, my dear Horatio, I have to say; that what you
find Fault with and clamour against, as the most terrible Evil in
the World, Self-denial; is really the greatest Good, and the highest
Self-gratification: If indeed, you use the Word in the Sense
of some weak sour Moralists, and much weaker Divines, you'll
have just Reason to laugh at it; but if you take it, as understood
by Philosophers and Men of Sense, you will presently see her
Charms, and fly to her Embraces, notwithstanding her demure
Looks, as absolutely necessary to produce even your own darling[155]
sole Good, Pleasure: For, Self-denial is never a Duty, or a
reasonable Action, but as 'tis a natural Means of procuring more
Pleasure than you can taste without it so that this grave, Saint-like
Guide to Happiness, as rough and dreadful as she has been
made to appear, is in truth the kindest and most beautiful Mistress
in the World.
Hor. Prithee, Philocles! do not wrap yourself in Allegory
and Metaphor. Why do you teaze me thus? I long to be satisfied,
what this Philosophical Self-denial is, the Necessity and
Reason of it; I'm impatient, and all on Fire; explain, therefore,
in your beautiful, natural easy Way of Reasoning, what I'm
to understand by this grave Lady of yours, with so forbidding,
downcast Looks, and yet so absolutely necessary to my Pleasures.
I stand ready to embrace her; for you know, Pleasure I
court under all Shapes and Forms.
Phil. Attend then, and you'll see the Reason of this Philosophical
Self-denial. There can be no absolute Perfection in
any Creature; because every Creature is derived, and dependent:
No created Being can be All-wise, All-good, and All-powerful,
because his Powers and Capacities are finite and limited; consequently
whatever is created must, in its own Nature, be subject
to Error, Irregularity, Excess, and Disorder. All intelligent,
rational Agents find in themselves a Power of judging what
kind of Beings they are; what Actions are proper to preserve
'em, and what Consequences will generally attend them, what
Pleasures they are form'd for, and to what Degree their Natures
are capable of receiving them. All we have to do then, Horatio,
is to consider, when we are surpriz'd with a new Object, and passionately
desire to enjoy it, whether the gratifying that Passion
be consistent with the gratifying other Passions and Appetites,
equal if not more necessary to us. And whether it consists with
our Happiness To-morrow, next Week, or next Year; for, as we
all wish to live, we are obliged by Reason to take as much Care
for our future, as our present Happiness, and not build one upon
the Ruins of t'other. But, if thro' the Strength and Power of a
present Passion, and thro' want of attending to Consequences,
we have err'd and exceeded the Bounds which Nature or Reason[156]
have set us; we are then, for our own Sakes, to refrain, or deny
ourselves a present momentary Pleasure for a future, constant
and durable one: So that this Philosophical Self-denial is only
refusing to do an Action which you strongly desire; because 'tis
inconsistent with your Health, Fortunes, or Circumstances in
the World; or, in other Words, because 'twould cost you more
than 'twas worth. You would lose by it, as a Man of Pleasure.
Thus you see, Horatio! that Self-denial is not only the most
reasonable, but the most pleasant Thing in the World.
Hor. We are just coming into Town, so that we can't pursue
this Argument any farther at present; you have said a great deal
for Nature, Providence, and Reason: Happy are they who can
follow such divine Guides.
Phil. Horatio! good Night; I wish you wise in your Pleasures.
Hor. I wish, Philocles! I could be as wise in my Pleasures as
you are pleasantly Wise; your Wisdom is agreeable, your Virtue
is amiable, and your Philosophy the highest Luxury. Adieu!
thou enchanting Reasoner!
A SECOND DIALOGUE
BETWEEN PHILOCLES AND HORATIO,
CONCERNING VIRTUE AND PLEASURE
[From the Pennsylvania Gazette, July 9, 1730.]
Philocles. Dear Horatio! where hast thou been these three or
four Months? What new Adventures have you fallen upon
since I met you in these delightful, all-inspiring Fields, and
wondred how such a Pleasure-hunter as you could bear being
alone?
Horatio. O Philocles, thou best of Friends, because a Friend
to Reason and Virtue, I am very glad to see you. Don't you
remember, I told you then, that some Misfortunes in my Pleasures
had sent me to Philosophy for Relief? But now I do
assure you, I can, without a Sigh, leave other Pleasures for
those of Philosophy; I can hear the Word Reason mentioned,[157]
and Virtue praised, without Laughing. Don't I bid fair for Conversion,
think you?
Phil. Very fair, Horatio! for I remember the Time when
Reason, Virtue, and Pleasure, were the same Thing with you:
When you counted nothing Good but what pleas'd, nor any
thing Reasonable but what you got by; When you made a Jest
of a Mind, and the Pleasures of Reflection, and elegantly plac'd
your sole Happiness, like the rest of the Animal Creation, in the
Gratifications of Sense.
Hor. I did so: But in our last Conversation, when walking
upon the Brow of this Hill, and looking down on that broad,
rapid River, and yon widely-extended beautifully-varied Plain,
you taught me another Doctrine: You shewed me, that Self-denial,
which above all Things I abhorred, was really the greatest
Good, and the highest Self-gratification, and absolutely
necessary to produce even my own darling sole Good, Pleasure.
Phil. True: I told you that Self-denial was never a Duty but
when it was a natural Means of procuring more Pleasure than
we could taste without it: That as we all strongly desire to live,
and to live only to enjoy, we should take as much Care about
our future as our present Happiness; and not build one upon the
Ruins of 'tother: That we should look to the End, and regard
Consequences: and if, thro' want of Attention we had err'd, and
exceeded the Bounds which Nature had set us, we were then
obliged, for our own Sakes, to refrain or deny ourselves a present
momentary Pleasure for a future, constant, and durable Good.
Hor. You have shewn, Philocles, that Self-denial, which
weak or interested Men have rendred the most forbidding, is
really the most delightful and amiable, the most reasonable and
pleasant Thing in the World. In a Word, if I understand you
aright, Self-denial is, in Truth, Self-recognising, Self-acknowledging,
or Self-owning. But now, my Friend! you are to perform
another Promise; and shew me the Path which leads up to
that constant, durable, and invariable Good, which I have heard
you so beautifully describe, and which you seem so fully to
possess: Is not this Good of yours a mere Chimera? Can any
Thing be constant in a World which is eternally changing! and[158]
which appears to exist by an everlasting Revolution of one
Thing into another, and where every Thing without us, and
every Thing within us, is in perpetual Motion? What is this
constant, durable Good, then, of yours? Prithee, satisfy my
Soul, for I'm all on Fire, and impatient to enjoy her. Produce
this eternal blooming Goddess with never-fading Charms, and
see, whether I won't embrace her with as much Eagerness and
Rapture as you.
Phil. You seem enthusiastically warm, Horatio; I will wait
till you are cool enough to attend to the sober, dispassionate
Voice of Reason.
Hor. You mistake me, my dear Philocles! my Warmth is
not so great as to run away with my Reason: it is only just raised
enough to open my Faculties, and fit them to receive those
eternal Truths, and that durable Good, which you so triumphantly
boasted of. Begin, then; I'm prepared.
Phil. I will. I believe, Horatio! with all your Skepticism
about you, you will allow that Good to be constant which is
never absent from you, and that to be durable, which never
Ends but with your Being.
Hor. Yes, go on.
Phil. That can never be the Good of a Creature, which when
present, the Creature may be miserable, and when absent, is
certainly so.
Hor. I think not; but pray explain what you mean; for I am
not much used to this abstract Way of Reasoning.
Phil. I mean all the Pleasures of Sense. The Good of Man
cannot consist in the mere Pleasures of Sense; because, when
any one of those Objects which you love is absent, or can't be
come at, you are certainly miserable: and if the Faculty be impair'd,
though the Object be present, you can't enjoy it. So that
this sensual Good depends upon a thousand Things without
and within you, and all out of your Power. Can this then be
the Good of Man? Say, Horatio! what think you, Is not this a
chequer'd, fleeting, fantastical Good? Can that, in any propriety
of Speech, be called the Good of Man which even, while he is
tasting, he may be miserable; and which when he cannot taste,[159]
he is necessarily so? Can that be our Good, which costs us a
great deal of Pains to obtain; which cloys in possessing; for
which we must wait the Return of Appetite before we can enjoy
again? Or, is that our Good, which we can come at without
Difficulty; which is heightened by Possession, which never ends
in Weariness and Disappointment; and which, the more we
enjoy, the better qualified we are to enjoy on?
Hor. The latter, I think; but why do you torment me thus?
Philocles! shew me this Good immediately.
Phil. I have shewed you what 'tis not; it is not sensual, but
'tis rational and moral Good. It is doing all the Good we can to
others, by Acts of Humanity, Friendship, Generosity, and
Benevolence: This is that constant and durable Good, which
will afford Contentment and Satisfaction always alike, without
Variation or Diminution. I speak to your Experience now,
Horatio! Did you ever find yourself weary of relieving the
Miserable? or of raising the Distressed into Life or Happiness?
Or rather, don't you find the Pleasure grow upon you by Repetition,
and that 'tis greater in the Reflection than in the Act itself?
Is there a Pleasure upon Earth to be compared with that
which arises from the Sense of making others happy? Can this
Pleasure ever be absent, or ever end but with your Being? Does
it not always accompany you? Doth not it lie down and rise
with you? live as long as you live? give you Consolation in the
Article of Death, and remain with you in that gloomy Hour,
when all other Things are going to forsake you, or you them?
Hor. How glowingly you paint, Philocles! Methinks Horatio
is amongst the Enthusiasts. I feel the Passion: I am enchantingly
convinced; but I don't know why: Overborn by
something stronger than Reason. Sure some Divinity speaks
within me; but prithee, Philocles, give me cooly the Cause, why
this rational and moral Good so infinitely excels the meer natural
or sensual.
Phil. I think, Horatio! that I have clearly shewn you the
Difference between merely natural or sensual Good, and rational
or moral Good. Natural or sensual Pleasure continues no
longer than the Action itself; but this divine or moral Pleasure[160]
continues when the Action is over, and swells and grows upon
your Hand by Reflection: The one is inconstant, unsatisfying,
of short Duration, and attended with numberless Ills; the other
is constant, yields full Satisfaction, is durable, and no Evils preceding,
accompanying, or following it. But, if you enquire
farther into the Cause of this Difference, and would know why
the moral Pleasures are greater than the sensual; perhaps the
Reason is the same as in all other Creatures, That their Happiness
or chief Good consists in acting up to their chief Faculty,
or that Faculty which distinguishes them from all Creatures of a
different Species. The chief Faculty in a Man is his Reason; and
consequently his chief Good; or that which may be justly called
his Good, consists not merely in Action, but in reasonable
Action. By reasonable Actions, we understand those Actions
which are preservative of the human Kind, and naturally tend
to produce real and unmixed Happiness; and these Actions, by
way of Distinction, we call Actions morally Good.
Hor. You speak very clearly, Philocles! but, that no Difficulty
may remain upon my Mind, pray tell me what is the real
Difference between natural Good and Ill, and moral Good and
Ill? for I know several People who use the Terms without Ideas.
Phil. That may be: The Difference lies only in this; that
natural Good and Ill is Pleasure and Pain: Moral Good and Ill is
Pleasure or Pain produced with Intention and Design; for 'tis
the Intention only that makes the Agent morally Good or Bad.
Hor. But may not a Man, with a very good Intention, do an
ill Action?
Phil. Yes, but, then he errs in his Judgment, tho' his Design
be good. If his Error is inevitable, or such as, all Things considered,
he could not help, he is inculpable: But if it arose through
want of Diligence in forming his Judgment about the Nature of
human Actions, he is immoral and culpable.
Hor. I find, then, that in order to please ourselves rightly,
or to do good to others morally, we should take great Care of
our Opinions.
Phil. Nothing concerns you more; for, as the Happiness or
real Good of Men consists in right Action, and right Action cannot[161]
be produced without right Opinion, it behoves us, above all
Things in this World, to take Care that our Opinions of Things
be according to the Nature of Things. The Foundation of all
Virtue and Happiness is Thinking rightly. He who sees an Action
is right, that is, naturally tending to Good, and does it because
of that Tendency, he only is a moral Man; and he alone is
capable of that constant, durable, and invariable Good, which
has been the Subject of this Conversation.
Hor. How, my dear philosophical Guide, shall I be able to
know, and determine certainly, what is Right and Wrong in
Life?
Phil. As easily as you distinguish a Circle from a Square, or
Light from Darkness. Look, Horatio, into the sacred Book of
Nature; read your own Nature, and view the Relation which
other Men stand in to you, and you to them; and you'll immediately
see what constitutes human Happiness, and consequently
what is Right.
Hor. We are just coming into Town, and can say no more at
present. You are my good Genius, Philocles. You have shewed
me what is good. You have redeemed me from the Slavery and
Misery of Folly and Vice, and made me a free and happy Being.
Phil. Then I am the happiest Man in the World. Be steady,
Horatio! Never depart from Reason and Virtue.
Hor. Sooner will I lose my Existence. Good Night, Philocles.
Phil. Adieu! dear Horatio!
A WITCH TRIAL AT MOUNT HOLLY
[From the Pennsylvania Gazette, Oct. 22, 1730.]
"Saturday last, at Mount-Holly, about 8 Miles from this
Place [Burlington, N. J.] near 300 People were gathered together
to see an Experiment or two tried on some Persons accused of
Witchcraft. It seems the Accused had been charged with making
their Neighbours' Sheep dance in an uncommon Manner,
and with causing Hogs to speak and sing Psalms, etc., to the[162]
great Terror and Amazement of the king's good and peaceable
Subjects in this Province; and the Accusers, being very positive
that if the Accused were weighed in Scales against a Bible, the
Bible would prove too heavy for them; or that, if they were
bound and put into the River they would swim; the said Accused,
desirous to make Innocence appear, voluntarily offered
to undergo the said Trials if 2 of the most violent of their Accusers
would be tried with them. Accordingly the Time and
Place was agreed on and advertised about the Country; The
Accusers were 1 Man and 1 Woman: and the Accused the same.
The Parties being met and the People got together, a grand
Consultation was held, before they proceeded to Trial; in which
it was agreed to use the Scales first; and a Committee of Men
were appointed to search the Men, and a Committee of Women
to search the Women, to see if they had any Thing of Weight
about them, particularly Pins. After the Scrutiny was over a
huge great Bible belonging to the Justice of the Place was provided,
and a Lane through the Populace was made from the
Justice's House to the Scales, which were fixed on a Gallows
erected for that Purpose opposite to the House, that the Justice's
Wife and the rest of the Ladies might see the Trial without coming
amongst the Mob, and after the Manner of Moorfields a
large Ring was also made. Then came out of the House a grave,
tall Man carrying the Holy Writ before the supposed Wizard
etc., (as solemnly as the Sword-bearer of London before the
Lord Mayor) the Wizard was first put in the Scale, and over him
was read a Chapter out of the Books of Moses, and then the
Bible was put in the other Scale, (which, being kept down before)
was immediately let go; but, to the great Surprize of the
Spectators, Flesh and Bones came down plump, and outweighed
that great good Book by abundance.[25] After the same Manner
the others were served, and their Lumps of Mortality severally
were too heavy for Moses and all the Prophets and Apostles.
This being over, the Accusers and the rest of the Mob, not satisfied
with this Experiment, would have the Trial by Water.
Accordingly a most solemn Procession was made to the Millpond,
where both Accused and Accusers being stripped (saving[163]
only to the Women their Shifts) were bound Hand and Foot
and severally placed in the Water, lengthways, from the Side
of a Barge or Flat, having for Security only a Rope about the
Middle of each, which was held by some in the Flat. The
accused man being thin and spare with some Difficulty began
to sink at last; but the rest, every one of them, swam very light
upon the Water. A Sailor in the Flat jump'd out upon the
Back of the Man accused thinking to drive him down to the
Bottom; but the Person bound, without any Help, came up
some time before the other. The Woman Accuser being told
that she did not sink, would be duck'd a second Time; when
she swam again as light as before. Upon which she declared,
That she believed the Accused had bewitched her to make her
so light, and that she would be duck'd again a Hundred Times
but she would duck the Devil out of her. The Accused Man,
being surpriz'd at his own Swimming, was not so confident of
his Innocence as before, but said, 'If I am a Witch, it is more
than I know.' The more thinking Part of the Spectators were
of Opinion that any Person so bound and placed in the Water
(unless they were mere Skin and Bones) would swim, till their
Breath was gone, and their Lungs fill'd with Water. But it
being the general Belief of the Populace that the Women's
shifts and the Garters with which they were bound help'd to
support them, it is said they are to be tried again the next warm
Weather, naked."
AN APOLOGY FOR PRINTERS
[From the Pennsylvania Gazette, June 10, 1731.]
Being frequently censur'd and condemn'd by different Persons
for printing Things which they say ought not to be printed,
I have sometimes thought it might be necessary to make a standing
Apology for my self, and publish it once a Year, to be read
upon all Occasions of that Nature. Much Business has hitherto
hindered the execution of this Design; but having very lately
given extraordinary Offence by printing an Advertisement with[164]
a certain N. B. at the End of it, I find an Apology more particularly
requisite at this Juncture, tho' it happens when I have not
yet Leisure to write such a Thing in the proper Form, and can
only in a loose manner throw those Considerations together
which should have been the Substance of it.
I request all who are angry with me on the Account of printing
things they don't like, calmly to consider these following
Particulars.
1. That the Opinions of Men are almost as various as their
Faces; an Observation general enough to become a common
Proverb, So many Men so many Minds.
2. That the Business of Printing has chiefly to do with Mens
Opinions; most things that are printed tending to promote
some, or oppose others.
3. That hence arises the peculiar Unhappiness of that Business,
which other Callings are no way liable to; they who follow
Printing being scarce able to do any thing in their way of getting
a Living, which shall not probably give Offence to some, and
perhaps to many; whereas the Smith, the Shoemaker, the Carpenter,
or the Man of any other Trade, may work indifferently
for People of all Persuasions, without offending any of them:
and the Merchant may buy and sell with Jews, Turks, Hereticks
and Infidels of all sorts, and get Money by every one of them,
without giving Offence to the most orthodox, of any sort; or
suffering the least Censure or Ill will on the Account from any
Man whatever.
4. That it is as unreasonable in any one Man or Set of Men
to expect to be pleas'd with every thing that is printed, as to
think that nobody ought to be pleas'd but themselves.
5. Printers are educated in the Belief, that when Men differ
in Opinion, both Sides ought equally to have the Advantage
of being heard by the Publick; and that when Truth and Error
have fair Play, the former is always an overmatch for the latter:
Hence they chearfully serve all contending Writers that pay
them well, without regarding on which side they are of the
Question in Dispute.
6. Being thus continually employ'd in serving both Parties,[165]
Printers naturally acquire a vast Unconcernedness as to the
right or wrong Opinions contain'd in what they print; regarding
it only as the Matter of their daily labour: They print things full
of Spleen and Animosity, with the utmost Calmness and Indifference,
and without the least Ill-will to the Persons reflected
on; who nevertheless unjustly think the Printer as much their
Enemy as the Author, and join both together in their Resentment.
7. That it is unreasonable to imagine Printers approve of
every thing they print, and to censure them on any particular
thing accordingly; since in the way of their Business they print
such great variety of things opposite and contradictory. It is
likewise as unreasonable what some assert, "That Printers ought
not to print any Thing but what they approve;" since if all of
that Business should make such a Resolution, and abide by it,
an End would thereby be put to Free Writing, and the World
would afterwards have nothing to read but what happen'd to
be the Opinions of Printers.
8. That if all Printers were determin'd not to print any thing
till they were sure it would offend no body, there would be
very little printed.
9. That if they sometimes print vicious or silly things not
worth reading, it may not be because they approve such things
themselves, but because the People are so viciously and corruptly
educated that good things are not encouraged. I have
known a very numerous Impression of Robin Hood's Songs go
off in this Province at 2s. per Book, in less than a Twelvemonth;
when a small Quantity of David's Psalms (an excellent Version)
have lain upon my Hands above twice the Time.
10. That notwithstanding what might be urg'd in behalf of
a Man's being allow'd to do in the Way of his Business whatever
he is paid for, yet Printers do continually discourage the Printing
of great Numbers of bad things, and stifle them in the Birth.
I my self have constantly refused to print anything that might
countenance Vice, or promote Immorality; tho' by complying
in such Cases with the corrupt Taste of the Majority I might
have got much Money. I have also always refus'd to print such[166]
things as might do real Injury to any Person, how much soever
I have been solicited, and tempted with Offers of Great Pay;
and how much soever I have by refusing got the Ill-will of those
who would have employ'd me. I have hitherto fallen under the
Resentment of large Bodies of Men, for refusing absolutely to
print any of their Party or Personal Reflections. In this Manner
I have made my self many Enemies, and the constant Fatigue
of denying is almost insupportable. But the Publick being unacquainted
with all this, whenever the poor Printer happens
either through Ignorance or much Persuasion, to do any thing
that is generally thought worthy of Blame, he meets with no
more Friendship or Favour on the above Account, than if there
were no Merit in't at all. Thus, as Waller says,
Poets lose half the Praise they would have got
Were it but known what they discreetly blot;
Yet are censur'd for every bad Line found in their Works with
the utmost Severity.
I come now to the Particular Case of the N. B. above mention'd,
about which there has been more Clamour against me,
than ever before on any other Account.—In the Hurry of other
Business an Advertisement was brought to me to be printed;
it signified that such a Ship lying at such a Wharff, would sail
for Barbadoes in such a Time, and that Freighters and Passengers
might agree with the Captain at such a Place; so far is
what's common: But at the Bottom this odd Thing was added,
"N. B. No Sea Hens nor Black Gowns will be admitted on any
Terms." I printed it, and receiv'd my Money; and the Advertisement
was stuck up round the Town as usual. I had not so
much Curiosity at that time as to enquire the Meaning of it, nor
did I in the least imagine it would give so much Offence. Several
good Men are very angry with me on this Occasion; they
are pleas'd to say I have too much Sense to do such things ignorantly;
that if they were Printers they would not have done
such a thing on any Consideration; that it could proceed from
nothing but my abundant Malice against Religion and the
Clergy. They therefore declare they will not take any more of[167]
my Papers, nor have any farther Dealings with me; but will
hinder me of all the Custom they can. All this is very hard!
I believe it had been better if I had refused to print the said
Advertisement. However, 'tis done, and cannot be revok'd. I
have only the following few Particulars to offer, some of them
in my behalf, by way of Mitigation, and some not much to the
Purpose; but I desire none of them may be read when the Reader
is not in a very good Humour.
1. That I really did it without the least Malice, and imagin'd
the N. B. was plac'd there only to make the Advertisement
star'd at, and more generally read.
2. That I never saw the Word Sea-Hens before in my Life;
nor have I yet ask'd the meaning of it; and tho' I had certainly
known that Black Gowns in that place signified the Clergy of
the Church of England, yet I have that confidence in the generous
good Temper of such of them as I know, as to be well
satisfied such a trifling mention of their Habit gives them no Disturbance.
3. That most of the Clergy in this and the neighbouring
Provinces, are my Customers, and some of them my very good
Friends; and I must be very malicious indeed, or very stupid, to
print this thing for a small Profit, if I had thought it would
have given them just Cause of Offence.
4. That if I had much Malice against the Clergy, and withal
much Sense; 'tis strange I never write or talk against the Clergy
myself. Some have observed that 'tis a fruitful Topic, and the
easiest to be witty upon of all others; yet I appeal to the Publick
that I am never guilty this way, and to all my Acquaintances
as to my Conversation.
5. That if a Man of Sense had Malice enough to desire to
injure the Clergy, this is the foolishest Thing he could possibly
contrive for that Purpose.
6. That I got Five Shillings by it.
7. That none who are angry with me would have given me
so much to let it alone.
8. That if all the People of different Opinions in this Province
would engage to give me as much for not printing things[168]
they don't like, as I can get by printing them, I should probably
live a very easy Life; and if all Printers were everywhere so dealt
by, there would be very little printed.
9. That I am oblig'd to all who take my Paper, and am
willing to think they do it out of meer Friendship. I only
desire they would think the same when I deal with them. I
thank those who leave off, that they have taken it so long. But
I beg they would not endeavour to dissuade others, for that
will look like Malice.
10. That 'tis impossible any Man should know what he
would do if he was a Printer.
11. That notwithstanding the Rashness and Inexperience of
Youth, which is most likely to be prevail'd with to do things
that ought not to be done; yet I have avoided printing such
Things as usually give Offence either to Church or State, more
than any Printer that has followed the Business in this Province
before.
12. And lastly, That I have printed above a Thousand Advertisements
which made not the least mention of Sea-Hens or
Black Gowns, and this being the first Offence, I have the more
Reason to expect Forgiveness.
I take leave to conclude with an old Fable, which some of
my Readers have heard before, and some have not.
"A certain well-meaning Man and his Son, were travelling
towards a Market Town, with an Ass which they had to sell.
The Road was bad; and the old Man therefore rid, but the Son
went a-foot. The first Passenger they met, asked the Father if
he was not ashamed to ride by himself, and suffer the poor Lad
to wade along thro' the Mire; this induced him to take up his
Son behind him: He had not travelled far, when he met others,
who said, they are two unmerciful Lubbers to get both on the
Back of that poor Ass, in such a deep Road. Upon this the old
Man gets off, and let his Son ride alone. The next they met
called the Lad a graceless, rascally young Jackanapes, to ride in
that Manner thro' the Dirt, while his aged Father trudged along
on Foot; and they said the old Man was a Fool, for suffering it.
He then bid his Son come down, and walk with him, and they[169]
travell'd on leading the Ass by the Halter; 'till they met another
Company, who called them a Couple of senseless Blockheads,
for going both on Foot in such a dirty Way, when they had
an empty Ass with them, which they might ride upon. The
old Man could bear no longer; My Son, said he, it grieves me
much that we cannot please all these People. Let me throw the
Ass over the next Bridge, and be no further troubled with him."
Had the old Man been seen acting this last Resolution, he
would probably have been called a Fool for troubling himself
about the different Opinions of all that were pleas'd to find
Fault with him: Therefore, tho' I have a Temper almost as
complying as his, I intend not to imitate him in this last Particular.
I consider the Variety of Humors among Men, and
despair of pleasing every Body; yet I shall not therefore leave
off Printing. I shall continue my Business. I shall not burn
my Press and melt my Letters.
PREFACE TO POOR RICHARD, 1733
Courteous Reader,
I might in this place attempt to gain thy Favour, by declaring
that I write Almanacks with no other View than that of the
publick Good; but in this I should not be sincere; and Men are
now adays too wise to be deceiv'd by Pretences how specious
soever. The plain Truth of the Matter is, I am excessive poor,
and my Wife, good Woman, is, I tell her, excessive proud; she
cannot bear, she says, to sit spinning in her Shift of Tow, while
I do nothing but gaze at the Stars; and has threatned more than
once to burn all my Books and Rattling-Traps (as she calls my
Instruments) if I do not make some profitable Use of them for
the Good of my Family. The Printer has offer'd me some considerable
share of the Profits, and I have thus begun to comply
with my Dame's Desire.
Indeed this Motive would have had Force enough to have
made me publish an Almanack many Years since, had it not
been overpowered by my Regard for my good Friend and
Fellow Student Mr. Titan Leeds, whose Interest I was extreamly[170]
unwilling to hurt: But this Obstacle (I am far from speaking it
with Pleasure) is soon to be removed, since inexorable Death,
who was never known to respect Merit, has already prepared
the mortal Dart, the fatal Sister has already extended her destroying
Shears, and that ingenious Man must soon be taken
from us. He dies, by my Calculation made at his Request, on
Oct. 17. 1733. 3 h. 29 m. P. M. at the very instant of the ☌
of ☉ and ☿: By his own Calculation he will survive till the
26th of the same Month.[26] This small Difference between us
we have disputed whenever we have met these 9 Years past;
but at length he is inclinable to agree with my Judgment: Which
of us is most exact, a little Time will now determine. As therefore
these Provinces may not longer expect to see any of his
Performances after this Year, I think my self free to take up
the Task, and request a share of the publick Encouragement;
which I am the more apt to hope for on this Account, that the
Buyer of my Almanack may consider himself, not only as purchasing
an useful Utensil, but as performing an Act of Charity,
to his poor Friend and Servant
R. Saunders.
A MEDITATION ON A QUART MUGG[27]
[From the Pennsylvania Gazette, July 19, 1733.]
Wretched, miserable, and unhappy Mug! I pity thy luckless
Lot, I commiserate thy Misfortunes, thy Griefs fill me with
Compassion, and because of thee are Tears made frequently to
burst from my Eyes.
How often have I seen him compell'd to hold up his Handle
at the Bar, for no other Crime than that of being empty; then
snatch'd away by a surly Officer, and plung'd suddenly into a
Tub of cold Water: Sad Spectacle, and Emblem of human Penury,
oppress'd by arbitrary Power! How often is he hurry'd
down into a dismal Vault, sent up fully laden in a cold Sweat,
and by a rude Hand thrust into the Fire! How often have I seen
it obliged to undergo the Indignities of a dirty Wench; to have[171]
melting Candles dropt on its naked Sides, and sometimes in its
Mouth, to risque being broken into a thousand Pieces, for
Actions which itself was not guilty of! How often is he forced
into the Company of boisterous Sots, who lay all their nonsence,
Noise, profane Swearing, Cursing, and Quarreling, on the
harmless Mug, which speaks not a Word! They overset him,
maim him, and sometimes turn him to Arms offensive or defensive,
as they please; when of himself he would not be of
either Party, but would as willingly stand still. Alas! what
Power, or Place, is provided, where this poor Mug, this unpitied
Slave, can have Redress of his Wrongs and Sufferings? Or
where shall he have a Word of Praise bestow'd on him for his
Well doings, and faithful Services? If he prove of a large size,
his Owner curses him, and says he will devour more than he'll
earn: If his Size be small, those whom his Master appoints him
to serve will curse him as much, and perhaps threaten him with
the Inquisition of the Standard. Poor Mug, unfortunate is thy
Condition! Of thy self thou wouldst do no Harm, but much
Harm is done with thee! Thou art accused of many Mischiefs;
thou art said to administer Drunkenness, Poison, and broken
Heads: But none praise thee for the good Things thou yieldest!
Shouldest thou produce double Beer, nappy Ale, stallcop Cyder,
or Cyder mull'd, fine Punch, or cordial Tiff; yet for all these
shouldst thou not be prais'd, but the rich Liquors themselves,
which tho' within thee, will be said to be foreign to thee! And
yet, so unhappy is thy Destiny, thou must bear all their Faults
and Abominations! Hast thou been industriously serving thy
Employers with Tiff or Punch, and instantly they dispatch thee
for Cyder, then must thou be abused for smelling of Rum.
Hast thou been steaming their Noses gratefully, with mull'd
Cyder or butter'd Ale, and then offerest to refresh their Palates
with the best of Beer, they will curse thee for thy Greasiness.
And how, alas! can thy Service be rendered more tolerable to
thee? If thou submittest thyself to a Scouring in the Kitchen,
what must thou undergo from sharp Sand, hot Ashes, and a
coarse Dishclout; besides the Danger of having thy Lips rudely
torn, thy Countenance disfigured, thy Arms dismantled, and[172]
thy whole Frame shatter'd, with violent Concussions in an Iron
Pot or Brass Kettle! And yet, O Mug! if these Dangers thou
escapest, with little Injury, thou must at last untimely fall, be
broken to Pieces, and cast away, never more to be recollected
and form'd into a Quart Mug. Whether by the Fire, or in a
Battle, or choak'd with a Dishclout, or by a Stroke against a
Stone, thy Dissolution happens; 'tis all alike to thy avaritious
Owner; he grieves not for thee, but for the Shilling with which
he purchased thee! If thy Bottom Part should chance to survive,
it may be preserv'd to hold bits of Candles, or Blacking for
Shoes, or Salve for kibed Heels; but all thy other Members will
be for ever buried in some miry Hole; or less carefully disposed
of, so that little Children, who have not yet arrived to Acts of
Cruelty, may gather them up to furnish out their Baby Houses:
Or, being cast upon the Dunghill, they will therewith be
carted into Meadow Grounds; where, being spread abroad and
discovered, they must be thrown to the Heap of Stones, Bones
and Rubbish; or being left until the Mower finds them with his
Scythe, they will with bitter Curses be tossed over the Hedge;
and so serve for unlucky Boys to throw at Birds and Dogs;
until by Length of Time and numerous Casualties, they shall be
press'd into their Mother Earth, and be converted to their
original Principles.
PREFACE TO POOR RICHARD, 1734
Courteous Readers,
Your kind and charitable Assistance last Year, in purchasing
so large an Impression of my Almanacks, has made my Circumstances
much more easy in the World, and requires my grateful
Acknowledgment. My Wife has been enabled to get a Pot of
her own, and is no longer oblig'd to borrow one from a Neighbour;
nor have we ever since been without something of our
own to put in it. She has also got a pair of Shoes, two new
Shifts, and a new warm Petticoat; and for my part, I have
bought a second-hand Coat, so good, that I am now not
asham'd to go to Town or be seen there. These Things have[173]
render'd her Temper so much more pacifick than it us'd to be,
that I may say, I have slept more, and more quietly within this
last Year, than in the three foregoing Years put together.
Accept my hearty Thanks therefor, and my sincere Wishes for
your Health and Prosperity.
In the Preface to my last Almanack, I foretold the Death of
my dear old Friend and Fellow-Student, the learned and ingenious
Mr. Titan Leeds, which was to be on the 17th of
October, 1733, 3 h. 29 m. P. M. at the very Instant of the ☌ of ☉
and ☿. By his own Calculation he was to survive till the 26th
of the same Month, and expire in the Time of the Eclipse, near
11 o'clock A. M. At which of these Times he died, or whether
he be really yet dead, I cannot at this present Writing positively
assure my Readers; forasmuch as a Disorder in my own Family
demanded my Presence, and would not permit me as I had
intended, to be with him in his last Moments, to receive his last
Embrace, to close his Eyes, and do the Duty of a Friend in performing
the last Offices to the Departed. Therefore it is that I
cannot positively affirm whether he be dead or not; for the
Stars only show to the Skilful, what will happen in the natural
and universal Chain of Causes and Effects; but 'tis well known,
that the Events which would otherwise certainly happen at
certain Times in the Course of Nature are sometimes set aside
or postpon'd for wise and good Reasons by the immediate
particular Dispositions of Providence; which particular Dispositions
the Stars can by no Means discover or foreshow. There is
however (and I cannot speak it without Sorrow) there is the
strongest Probability that my dear Friend is no more; for there
appears in his Name, as I am assured, an Almanack for the Year
1734, in which I am treated in a very gross and unhandsome
Manner; in which I am called a false Predicter, an Ignorant, a
conceited Scribler, a Fool, and a Lyar. Mr. Leeds was too well
bred to use any Man so indecently and so scurrilously, and
moreover his Esteem and Affection for me was extraordinary:
So that it is to be feared that Pamphlet may be only a Contrivance
of somebody or other, who hopes perhaps to sell two
or three Year's Almanacks still, by the sole Force and Virtue[174]
of Mr. Leeds's Name; but certainly, to put Words into the
Mouth of a Gentleman and a Man of Letters, against his Friend,
which the meanest and most scandalous of the People might be
asham'd to utter even in a drunken Quarrel, is an unpardonable
Injury to his Memory, and an Imposition upon the Publick.
Mr. Leeds was not only profoundly skilful in the useful
Science he profess'd, but he was a Man of exemplary Sobriety, a
most sincere Friend, and an exact Performer of his Word. These
valuable Qualifications, with many others so much endear'd
him to me, that although it should be so, that, contrary to all
Probability, contrary to my Prediction and his own, he might
possibly be yet alive, yet my Loss of Honour as a Prognosticator,
cannot afford me so much Mortification, as his Life, Health
and Safety would give me Joy and Satisfaction.
I am, Courteous and Kind Reader
Your poor Friend and Servant,
R. Saunders.
Octob. 30. 1733.
PREFACE TO POOR RICHARD, 1735
Courteous Reader,
This is the third Time of my appearing in print, hitherto
very much to my own Satisfaction, and, I have reason to hope,
to the Satisfaction of the Publick also; for the Publick is generous,
and has been very charitable and good to me. I should
be ungrateful then, if I did not take every Opportunity of expressing
my Gratitude; for ingratum si dixeris, omnia dixeris: I
therefore return the Publick my most humble and hearty
Thanks.
Whatever may be the Musick of the Spheres, how great soever
the Harmony of the Stars, 'tis certain there is no Harmony
among the Stargazers; but they are perpetually growling and
snarling at one another like strange Curs, or like some Men at
their Wives: I had resolved to keep the Peace on my own part,
and affront none of them; and I shall persist in that Resolution:
But having receiv'd much Abuse from Titan Leeds deceas'd
(Titan Leeds when living would not have us'd me so!) I say,[175]
having receiv'd much Abuse from the Ghost of Titan Leeds,
who pretends to be still living, and to write Almanacks in
Spight of me and my Predictions, I cannot help saying, that
tho' I take it patiently, I take it very unkindly. And whatever
he may pretend, 'tis undoubtedly true that he is really defunct
and dead. First because the Stars are seldom disappointed,
never but in the Case of wise Men, sapiens dominabitur astris,
and they foreshow'd his Death at the Time I predicted it.
Secondly, 'Twas requisite and necessary he should die punctually
at that Time, for the Honour of Astrology, the Art
professed both by him and his Father before him. Thirdly,
'Tis plain to every one that reads his last two Almanacks (for
1734 and 35) that they are not written with that Life his Performances
use to be written with; the Wit is low and flat, the
little Hints dull and spiritless, nothing smart in them but
Hudibras's Verses against Astrology at the Heads of the Months
in the last, which no Astrologer but a dead one would have
inserted, and no Man living would or could write such Stuff as
the rest. But lastly I convince him in his own Words, that he is
dead (ex ore suo condemnatus est) for in his Preface to his
Almanack for 1734, he says "Saunders adds another gross
Falshood in his Almanack, viz. that by my own Calculation
I shall survive until the 26th of the said Month October 1733,
which is as untrue as the former." Now if it be, as Leeds says,
untrue and a gross Falshood that he surviv'd till the 26th of
October 1733, then it is certainly true that he died before that
Time: And if he died before that Time, he is dead now, to all
Intents and Purposes, any thing he may say to the contrary
notwithstanding. And at what Time before the 26th is it so
likely he should die, as at the Time by me predicted, viz. the
17th of October aforesaid? But if some People will walk and
be troublesome after Death, it may perhaps be born with a
little, because it cannot well be avoided unless one would be at
the Pains and Expence of laying them in the Red Sea; however,
they should not presume too much upon the Liberty allow'd
them; I know Confinement must needs be mighty irksome to
the free Spirit of an Astronomer, and I am too compassionate[176]
to proceed suddenly to Extremities with it; nevertheless, tho'
I resolve with Reluctance, I shall not long defer, if it does not
speedily learn to treat its living Friends with better Manners,
I am, Courteous Reader, your obliged Friend and Servant
R. Saunders.
Octob. 30. 1734
HINTS FOR THOSE THAT WOULD BE RICH
[October, 1736—From Poor Richard, 1737]
The Use of Money is all the Advantage there is in having
Money.
For £6 a Year you may have the Use of £100 if you are a
Man of known Prudence and Honesty.
He that spends a Groat a day idly, spends idly above £6 a
year, which is the Price of using £100.
He that wastes idly a Groat's worth of his Time per Day,
one Day with another, wastes the Privilege of using £100
each Day.
He that idly loses 5s. worth of time, loses 5s. and might as
prudently throw 5s. in the River.
He that loses 5s. 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, amounts to a comfortable
Bag 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 like to be kept out of it: therefore He that buys
upon Credit, pays Interest for what he buys. And he that pays
ready Money, might let that Money out to Use; so that He that
possesses any Thing he has bought, pays Interest for the Use
of it.
Consider then when you are tempted to buy any unnecessary
Householdstuff, or any superfluous thing, whether you will be
willing to pay Interest, and Interest upon Interest for it as long
as you live; and more if it grows worse by using.[177]
Yet, in buying goods, 'tis best to pay Ready Money, because,
He that sells upon Credit, expects to lose 5 per Cent by bad
Debts; therefore he charges, on all he sells upon Credit, an
Advance that shall make up for that Deficiency.
Those who pay for what they buy upon Credit, pay their
Share of this Advance.
He that pays ready Money, escapes or may escape that
Charge.
A Penny sav'd is Twopence clear,
A Pin a Day is a Groat a Year.
TO JOSIAH FRANKLIN[28]
Philadelphia, April 13, 1738.
Honoured Father,
I have your favours of the 21st of March, in which you both
seem concerned lest I have imbibed some erroneous opinions.
Doubtless I have my share; and when the natural weakness and
imperfection of human understanding is considered, the unavoidable
influence of education, custom, books, and company
upon our ways of thinking, I imagine a man must have a good
deal of vanity who believes, and a good deal of boldness who
affirms, that all the doctrines he holds are true, and all he rejects
are false. And perhaps the same may be justly said of every
sect, church, and society of men, when they assume to themselves
that infallibility, which they deny to the Pope and
councils.
I think opinions should be judged of by their influences and
effects; and, if a man holds none that tend to make him less
virtuous or more vicious, it may be concluded he holds none
that are dangerous; which I hope is the case with me.
I am sorry you should have any uneasiness on my account;
and if it were a thing possible for one to alter his opinions in
order to please another, I know none whom I ought more willingly
to oblige in that respect than yourselves. But, since it is[178]
no more in a man's power to think than to look like another,
methinks all that should be expected from me is to keep my
mind open to conviction, to hear patiently and examine attentively,
whatever is offered me for that end; and, if after all I
continue in the same errors, I believe your usual charity will
induce you to rather pity and excuse, than blame me. In the
mean time your care and concern for me is what I am very
thankful for.
My mother grieves, that one of her sons is an Arian, another
an Arminian. What an Arminian or an Arian is, I cannot say
that I very well know. The truth is, I make such distinctions
very little my study. I think vital religion has always suffered,
when orthodoxy is more regarded than virtue; and the Scriptures
assure me, that at the last day we shall not be examined
what we thought, but what we did; and our recommendation
will not be, that we said, Lord! Lord! but that we did good to
our fellow creatures. See Matt. xxv.
As to the freemasons, I know no way of giving my mother a
better account of them than she seems to have at present, since
it is not allowed that women should be admitted into that
secret society. She has, I must confess, on that account some
reason to be displeased with it; but for any thing else, I must
entreat her to suspend her judgment till she is better informed,
unless she will believe me, when I assure her that they are in
general a very harmless sort of people, and have no principles
or practices that are inconsistent with religion and good
manners.
We have had great rains here lately, which, with the thawing
of snow on the mountains back of our country, have made
vast floods in our rivers, and, by carrying away bridges, boats,
&c., made travelling almost impracticable for a week past; so
that our post has entirely missed making one trip.
I hear nothing of Dr. Crook, nor can I learn any such person
has ever been here.
I hope my sister Jenny's child is by this time recovered. I
am your dutiful son.
B. Franklin.
[179]
PREFACE TO POOR RICHARD, 1739
Kind Reader,
Encouraged by thy former Generosity, I once more present
thee with an Almanack, which is the 7th of my Publication.
While thou art putting Pence in my Pocket, and furnishing my
Cottage with necessaries, Poor Dick is not unmindful to do
something for thy Benefit. The Stars are watch'd as narrowly
as old Bess watch'd her Daughter, that thou mayst be acquainted
with their Motions, and told a Tale of their Influences and
Effects, which may do thee more good than a Dream of last
Year's Snow.
Ignorant Men wonder how we Astrologers foretell the
Weather so exactly, unless we deal with the old black Devil.
Alas! 'tis as easy as ****** For Instance; The Stargazer peeps at
the Heavens thro' a long Glass: He sees perhaps Taurus, or
the great Bull, in a mighty Chafe, stamping on the Floor of his
House, swinging his Tail about, stretching out his Neck, and
opening wide his Mouth. 'Tis natural from these Appearances
to judge that this furious Bull is puffing, blowing and roaring.
Distance being consider'd and Time allow'd for all this to
come down, there you have Wind and Thunder. He spies perhaps
Virgo (or the Virgin;) she turns her Head round as it
were to see if any body observ'd her; then crouching down
gently, with her Hands on her Knees, she looks wistfully for a
while right forward. He judges rightly what she's about: And
having calculated the Distance and allow'd Time for its Falling,
finds that next Spring we shall have a fine April shower. What
can be more natural and easy than this? I might instance the
like in many other particulars; but this may be sufficient to
prevent our being taken for Conjurors. O the wonderful
Knowledge to be found in the Stars! Even the smallest Things
are written there, if you had but Skill to read: When my
Brother J-m-n erected a Scheme to know which was best for
his sick Horse, to sup a new-laid Egg, or a little Broth, he found
that the Stars plainly gave their Verdict for Broth, and the[180]
Horse having sup'd his Broth;—Now, what do you think became
of that Horse? You shall know in my next.
Besides the usual Things expected in an Almanack, I hope
the profess'd Teachers of Mankind will excuse my scattering
here and there some instructive Hints in Matters of Morality
and Religion. And be not thou disturbed, O grave and sober
Reader, if among the many serious Sentences in my Book, thou
findest me trifling now and then, and talking idly. In all the
Dishes I have hitherto cook'd for thee, there is solid Meat
enough for thy Money. There are Scraps from the Table of
Wisdom, that will if well digested, yield strong Nourishment to
thy Mind. But squeamish Stomachs cannot eat without Pickles;
which, 'tis true are good for nothing else, but they provoke an
Appetite. The Vain Youth that reads my Almanack for the
sake of an idle Joke, will perhaps meet with a serious Reflection,
that he may ever after be the better for.
Some People observing the great Yearly Demand for my
Almanack, imagine I must by this Time have become rich, and
consequently ought to call myself Poor Dick no longer. But,
the Case is this,
When I first begun to publish, the Printer made a fair Agreement
with me for my Copies, by Virtue of which he runs away
with the greatest Part of the Profit.—However, much good
may't do him; I do not grudge it him; he is a Man I have a great
Regard for, and I wish his Profit ten times greater than it is.
For I am, dear Reader, his, as well as thy
Affectionate Friend
R. Saunders.
A PROPOSAL
FOR PROMOTING USEFUL KNOWLEDGE AMONG THE
BRITISH PLANTATIONS IN AMERICA
Philadelphia, May 14, 1743.
The English are possessed of a long tract of continent, from
Nova Scotia to Georgia, extending north and south through
different climates, having different soils, producing different[181]
plants, mines, and minerals, and capable of different improvements,
manufactures, &c.
The first drudgery of settling new colonies, which confines
the attention of people to mere necessaries, is now pretty well
over; and there are many in every province in circumstances
that set them at ease, and afford leisure to cultivate the finer
arts and improve the common stock of knowledge. To such of
these who are men of speculation, many hints must from time
to time arise, many observations occur, which if well examined,
pursued, and improved, might produce discoveries to the
advantage of some or all of the British plantations, or to the
benefit of mankind in general.
But as from the extent of the country such persons are widely
separated, and seldom can see and converse or be acquainted
with each other, so that many useful particulars remain uncommunicated,
die with the discoverers, and are lost to mankind;
it is, to remedy this inconvenience for the future, proposed,
That one society be formed of virtuosi or ingenious men,
residing in the several colonies, to be called The American
Philosophical Society, who are to maintain a constant correspondence.
That Philadelphia, being the city nearest the centre of the
continent colonies, communicating with all of them northward
and southward by post, and with all the islands by sea, and
having the advantage of a good growing library, be the centre
of the Society.
That at Philadelphia there be always at least seven members,
viz. a physician, a botanist, a mathematician, a chemist, a mechanician,
a geographer, and a general natural philosopher, besides
a president, treasurer, and secretary.
That these members meet once a month, or oftener, at their
own expense, to communicate to each other their observations
and experiments, to receive, read, and consider such letters,
communications, or queries as shall be sent from distant members;
to direct the dispersing of copies of such communications
as are valuable, to other distant members, in order to procure
their sentiments thereupon.[182]
That the subjects of the correspondence be: all new-discovered
plants, herbs, trees, roots, their virtues, uses, &c.;
methods of propagating them, and making such as are useful,
but particular to some plantations, more general; improvements
of vegetable juices, as ciders, wines, &c.; new methods of curing
or preventing diseases; all new-discovered fossils in different
countries, as mines, minerals, and quarries; new and useful
improvements in any branch of mathematics; new discoveries in
chemistry, such as improvements in distillation, brewing, and
assaying of ores; new mechanical inventions for saving labour,
as mills and carriages, and for raising and conveying of water,
draining of meadows, &c.; all new arts, trades, and manufactures,
that may be proposed or thought of; surveys, maps, and
charts of particular parts of the sea-coasts or inland countries;
course and junction of rivers and great roads, situation of lakes
and mountains, nature of the soil and productions; new methods
of improving the breed of useful animals; introducing other
sorts from foreign countries; new improvements in planting,
gardening, and clearing land; and all philosophical experiments
that let light into the nature of things, tend to increase the power
of man over matter, and multiply the conveniences or pleasures
of life.
That a correspondence, already begun by some intended
members, shall be kept up by this Society with the Royal
Society of London, and with the Dublin Society.
That every member shall have abstracts sent him quarterly,
of every thing valuable communicated to the Society's Secretary
at Philadelphia; free of all charge except the yearly
payment hereafter mentioned.
That, by permission of the postmaster-general, such communications
pass between the Secretary of the Society and the
members, postage-free.
That, for defraying the expense of such experiments as the
Society shall judge proper to cause to be made, and other contingent
charges for the common good, every member send a
piece of eight per annum to the treasurer, at Philadelphia, to
form a common stock, to be disbursed by order of the President[183]
with the consent of the majority of the members that can conveniently
be consulted thereupon, to such persons and places
where and by whom the experiments are to be made, and otherwise
as there shall be occasion; of which disbursements an exact
account shall be kept, and communicated yearly to every
member.
That, at the first meetings of the members at Philadelphia,
such rules be formed for regulating their meetings and transactions
for the general benefit, as shall be convenient and
necessary; to be afterwards changed and improved as there
shall be occasion, wherein due regard is to be had to the advice
of distant members.
That, at the end of every year, collections be made and
printed, of such experiments, discoveries, and improvements, as
may be thought of public advantage; and that every member
have a copy sent him.
That the business and duty of the Secretary be to receive all
letters intended for the Society, and lay them before the President
and members at their meetings; to abstract, correct, and
methodize such papers as require it, and as he shall be directed
to do by the President, after they have been considered, debated,
and digested in the Society; to enter copies thereof in the
Society's books, and make out copies for distant members; to
answer their letters by direction of the President, and keep
records of all material transactions of the Society.
Benjamin Franklin, the writer of this Proposal, offers himself
to serve the Society as their secretary, till they shall be provided
with one more capable.
SHAVERS AND TRIMMERS
[From the Pennsylvania Gazette, June 23, 1743.]
Alexander Miller, Peruke-maker, in Second-street, Philadelphia,
takes Opportunity to acquaint his Customers, that he
intends to leave off the Shaving Business after the 22d of
August next.[184]
To Mr. Franklin
Sir,
It is a common Observation among the People of Great
Britain and Ireland, that the Barbers are reverenced by the lower
Classes of the Inhabitants of those Kingdoms, and in the more
remote Parts of those Dominions, as the sole Oracles of Wisdom
and Politicks. This at first View seems to be owing to the
odd Bent of Mind and peculiar Humour of the People of those
Nations: But if we carry this Observation into other Parts, we
shall find the same Passion equally prevalent throughout the
whole civilized World; and discover in every little Market-Town
and Village the 'Squire, the Exciseman, and even the
Parson himself, listening with as much Attention to a Barber's
News, as they would to the profound Revelations of a Chancellor
of the Exchequer, or principal Secretary of State.
Antiquity likewise will furnish us with many Confirmations
of the Truth of what I have here asserted. Among the old
Romans the Barbers were understood to be exactly of the same
Complection I have here described. I shall not trouble your
Readers with a Multitude of Examples taken from Antiquity. I
shall only quote one Passage in Horace, which may serve to
illustrate the Whole, and is as follows.
Strenuus et fortis, causisq; Philippus agendis
Clarus, ab officiis octavam circiter horam
Dum redit: atq; foro nimium distare carinas
Jam grandis natu queritur, conspexit, ut aiunt,
Adrasum quendam vacuâ tonsoris in umbrâ.
Cultello proprios purgantem leniter ungues.
Hor. Epist. Lib. I. 7.
By which we may understand, that the Tonsoris Umbra, or
Barber's Shop, was the common Rendezvous of every idle
Fellow, who had no more to do than to pair his Nails, talk
Politicks, and see, and to be seen.
But to return to the Point in Question. If we would know
why the Barbers are so eminent for their Skill in Politicks, it
will be necessary to lay aside the Appellation of Barber, and
confine ourselves to that of Shaver and Trimmer, which will[185]
naturally lead us to consider the near Relation which subsists
between Shaving, Trimming and Politicks, from whence we
shall discover that Shaving and Trimming is not the Province
of the Mechanic alone, but that there are their several Shavers
and Trimmers at Court, the Bar, in Church and State.
And first, Shaving or Trimming, in a strict mechanical Sense
of the Word, signifies a cutting, sheering, lopping off, and
fleecing us of those Excrescencies of Hair, Nails, Flesh, &c.,
which burthen and disguise our natural Endowments. And is
not the same practised over the whole World, by Men of every
Rank and Station? Does not the corrupt Minister lop off our
Privileges and fleece us of our Money? Do not the Gentlemen
of the long Robe find means to cut off those Excrescencies of
the Nation, Highwaymen, Thieves and Robbers? And to
look into the Church, who has been more notorious for shaving
and fleecing, than that Apostle of Apostles, that Preacher of
Preachers, the Rev. Mr. G. W.?[29] But I forbear making farther
mention of this spiritual Shaver and Trimmer, lest I should
affect the Minds of my Readers as deeply as his Preaching has
affected their Pockets.
The second Species of Shavers and Trimmers are those who,
according to the English Phrase, make the best of a bad Market:
Such as cover (what is called by an eminent Preacher) their poor
Dust in tinsel Cloaths and gaudy Plumes of Feathers. A Star,
and Garter, for Instance, adds Grace, Dignity and Lustre to a
gross corpulent Body; and a competent Share of religious
Horror thrown into the Countenance, with proper Distortions
of the Face, and the Addition of a lank Head of Hair, or a long
Wig and Band, commands a most profound Respect to Insolence
and Ignorance. The Pageantry of the Church of Rome
is too well known for me to instance: It will not however be
amiss to observe, that his Holiness the Pope, when he has a
Mind to fleece his Flock of a good round Sum, sets off the
Matter with Briefs, Pardons, Indulgencies, &c. &c. &c.
The Third and last Kind of Shavers and Trimmers are those
who (in Scripture Language) are carried away with every
Wind of Doctrine. The Vicars of Bray, and those who exchange[186]
their Principles with the Times, may justly be referred
to this Class. But the most odious Shavers and Trimmers of
this Kind, are a certain set of Females, called (by the polite
World) Jilts. I cannot give my Readers a more perfect Idea
of these than by quoting the following Lines of the Poet:
Fatally fair they are, and in their Smiles
The Graces, little Loves, and young Desires inhabit:
But they are false luxurious in their Appetites,
And all the Heav'n they hope for, is Variety.
One Lover to another still succeeds,
Another and another after that,
And the last Fool is welcome as the former;
'Till having lov'd his Hour out, he gives his Place,
And mingles with the Herd that went before him.
Rowe's Fair Penitent.
Lastly, I cannot but congratulate my Neighbours on the
little Favour which is shown to Shavers and Trimmers by the
People of this Province. The Business is at so low an Ebb,
that the worthy Gentleman whose Advertisement I have chosen
for the Motto of my Paper, acquaints us he will leave it off
after the 22d of August next. I am of Opinion that all possible
Encouragement ought to be given to Examples of this Kind,
since it is owing to this that so perfect an Understanding is
cultivated among ourselves, and the Chain of Friendship is
brightened and perpetuated with our good Allies, the Indians.
The Antipathy which these sage Naturalists bear to Shaving
and Trimming, is well known.
I am, Yours, &c.
TO THE PUBLICK
[From the Pennsylvania Gazette, June 30, 1743.]
My Paper on Shavers and Trimmers, in the last Gazette, being
generally condemn'd, I at first imputed it to the Want of Taste[187]
and Relish for Pieces of that Force and Beauty, which none but
University-bred Gentlemen can produce: But upon Advice of
Friends, whose Judgment I could depend on, I examined myself
and to my Shame must confess, that I found myself to be an
uncircumcised Jew, whose Excrescencies of Hair, Nails, Flesh,
&c. did burthen and disguise my Natural Endowments; but
having my Hair and Nails since lopp'd off and shorn, and my
fleshly Excrescencies circumcised, I now appear in my wonted
Lustre, and expect a speedy Admission among the Levites,
which I have already the Honour of among the Poets and Natural
Philosophers. I have one Thing more to add, which is,
That I had no real Animosity against the Person whose Advertisement
I made the Motto of my Paper; but (as may appear to
all who have been Big with Pieces of this Kind) what I had
long on my Mind, I at last unburden'd myself of. O! these
JILTS still run in my Mind.
N. B. The Publick perhaps may suppose this Confession
forced upon me; but if they repair to the P—— Pe in Second-street,
they may see Me, or the Original hereof under my own
Hand, and be convinced that this is genuine.
PREFACE TO LOGAN'S TRANSLATION OF
"CATO MAJOR"[30]
The Printer to the Reader
This Version of Cicero's Tract de Senectute, was made Ten
Years since, by the Honourable and Learned Mr. Logan, of this
City; undertaken partly for his own Amusement, (being then
in his 60th Year, which is said to be nearly the Age of the
Author when he wrote it) but principally for the Entertainment
of a Neighbour then in his grand Climacteric; and the Notes
were drawn up solely on that Neighbour's Account, who was
not so well acquainted as himself with the Roman History and
Language: Some other Friends, however, (among whom I had
the Honour to be ranked) obtained Copies of it in MS. And,
as I believed it to be in itself equal at least, if not far preferable[188]
to any other Translation of the same Piece extant in our Language,
besides the Advantage it has of so many valuable Notes,
which at the same time they clear up the Text, are highly instructive
and entertaining; I resolved to give it an Impression,
being confident that the Publick would not unfavourably receive
it.
A certain Freed-man of Cicero's is reported to have said of a
medicinal Well, discovered in his Time, wonderful for the
Virtue of its Waters in restoring Sight to the Aged, That it was
a Gift of the bountiful Gods to Men, to the end that all might
now have the Pleasure of reading his Master's Works. As that
Well, if still in being, is at too great a Distance for our Use, I
have, Gentle Reader, as thou seest, printed this Piece of Cicero's
in a large and fair Character, that those who begin to think on
the Subject of Old Age, (which seldom happens till their Sight
is somewhat impair'd by its Approaches) may not, in Reading,
by the Pain small Letters give the Eyes, feel the Pleasure of the
Mind in the least allayed.
I shall add to these few Lines my hearty Wish, that this first
Translation of a Classic in this Western World, may be followed
with many others, performed with equal Judgment and Success;
and be a happy Omen, that Philadelphia shall become the Seat
of the American Muses.
Philadelphia, Febr. 29. 1743/4.
TO JOHN FRANKLIN, AT BOSTON[31]
Philadelphia [March 10], 1745.
—Our people are extremely impatient to hear of your success
at Cape Breton. My shop is filled with thirty inquirers at the
coming in of every post. Some wonder the place is not yet
taken. I tell them I shall be glad to hear that news three months
hence. Fortified towns are hard nuts to crack; and your teeth
have not been accustomed to it. Taking strong places is a particular
trade, which you have taken up without serving an
apprenticeship to it. Armies and veterans need skilful engineers
to direct them in their attack. Have you any? But some seem[189]
to think forts are as easy taken as snuff. Father Moody's prayers
look tolerably modest. You have a fast and prayer day for that
purpose; in which I compute five hundred thousand petitions
were offered up to the same effect in New England, which
added to the petitions of every family morning and evening,
multiplied by the number of days since January 25th, make
forty-five millions of prayers; which, set against the prayers
of a few priests in the garrison, to the Virgin Mary, give a vast
balance in your favour.
If you do not succeed, I fear I shall have but an indifferent
opinion of Presbyterian prayers in such cases, as long as I live.
Indeed, in attacking strong towns I should have more dependence
on works, than on faith; for, like the kingdom of heaven,
they are to be taken by force and violence; and in a French
garrison I suppose there are devils of that kind, that they are
not to be cast out by prayers and fasting, unless it be by their
own fasting for want of provisions. I believe there is Scripture
in what I have wrote, but I cannot adorn the margin with quotations,
having a bad memory, and no Concordance at hand;
besides no more time than to subscribe myself, &c.
B. Franklin.
PREFACE TO POOR RICHARD, 1746
Who is Poor Richard? People oft enquire,
Where lives? What is he? never yet the nigher.
Somewhat to ease your Curiositee,
Take these slight Sketches of my Dame and me.
Thanks to kind Readers and a careful Wife,
With plenty bless'd, I lead an easy Life;
My business Writing; less to drain the Mead,
Or crown the barren Hill with useful Shade;
In the smooth Glebe to see the Plowshare worn,
And fill the Granary with needful Corn.
Press nectareous Cyder from my loaded Trees,
Print the sweet Butter, turn the Drying Cheese.
Some Books we read, tho' few there are that hit
[190]
The happy Point where Wisdom joins with Wit;
That set fair Virtue naked to our View,
And teach us what is decent, what is true.
The Friend sincere, and honest Man, with Joy
Treating or treated oft our Time employ.
Our Table next, Meals temperate; and our Door
Op'ning spontaneous to the bashful Poor.
Free from the bitter Rage of Party Zeal,
All those we love who seek the publick Weal.
Nor blindly follow Superstitious Love,
Which cheats deluded Mankind o'er and o'er,
Not over righteous, quite beyond the Rule,
Conscience perplext by every canting Tool.
Nor yet when Folly hides the dubious Line,
When Good and Bad the blended Colours join:
Rush indiscreetly down the dangerous Steep,
And plunge uncertain in the darksome Deep.
Cautious, if right; if wrong resolv'd to part
The Inmate Snake that folds about the Heart.
Observe the Mean, the Motive, and the End,
Mending ourselves, or striving still to mend.
Our Souls sincere, our Purpose fair and free,
Without Vain Glory or Hypocrisy:
Thankful if well; if ill, we kiss the Rod;
Resign with Hope, and put our Trust in God.
THE SPEECH OF POLLY BAKER[32]
[Printed in the Gentleman's Magazine, April, 1747.]
The Speech of Miss Polly Baker before a Court of Judicature,
at Connecticut near Boston in New England; where she was
prosecuted the fifth time, for having a Bastard Child: Which
influenced the Court to dispense with her Punishment, and
which induced one of her Judges to marry her the next Day—by
whom she had fifteen Children.
[191]
"May it please the honourable bench to indulge me in a few
words: I am a poor, unhappy woman, who have no money to
fee lawyers to plead for me, being hard put to it to get a living. I
shall not trouble your honours with long speeches; for I have
not the presumption to expect that you may, by any means, be
prevailed on to deviate in your Sentence from the law, in my
favour. All I humbly hope is, that your honours would charitably
move the governor's goodness on my behalf, that my fine
may be remitted. This is the fifth time, gentlemen, that I have
been dragg'd before your court on the same account; twice I
have paid heavy fines, and twice have been brought to publick
punishment, for want of money to pay those fines. This may
have been agreeable to the laws, and I don't dispute it; but since
laws are sometimes unreasonable in themselves, and therefore
repealed; and others bear too hard on the subject in particular
circumstances, and therefore there is left a power somewhere
to dispense with the execution of them; I take the liberty to say,
that I think this law, by which I am punished, both unreasonable
in itself, and particularly severe with regard to me, who have
always lived an inoffensive life in the neighbourhood where I
was born, and defy my enemies (if I have any) to say I ever
wrong'd any man, woman, or child. Abstracted from the law,
I cannot conceive (may it please your honours) what the nature
of my offense is. I have brought five fine children into the
world, at the risque of my life; I have maintain'd them well by
my own industry, without burthening the township, and would
have done it better, if it had not been for the heavy charges
and fines I have paid. Can it be a crime (in the nature of things,
I mean) to add to the king's subjects, in a new country, that
really wants people? I own it, I should think it rather a praiseworthy
than a punishable action. I have debauched no other
woman's husband, nor enticed any other youth; these things I
never was charg'd with; nor has any one the least cause of
complaint against me, unless, perhaps, the ministers of justice,
because I have had children without being married, by which
they have missed a wedding fee. But can this be a fault of mine?
I appeal to your honours. You are pleased to allow I don't
want sense; but I must be stupified to the last degree, not to[192]
prefer the honourable state of wedlock to the condition I have
lived in. I always was, and still am willing to enter into it;
and doubt not my behaving well in it, having all the industry,
frugality, fertility, and skill in economy appertaining to a good
wife's character. I defy any one to say I ever refused an offer of
that sort: on the contrary, I readily consented to the only
proposal of marriage that ever was made me, which was when
I was a virgin, but too easily confiding in the person's sincerity
that made it, I unhappily lost my honour by trusting to his;
for he got me with child, and then forsook me.
"That very person, you all know, he is now become a magistrate
of this country; and I had hopes he would have appeared
this day on the bench, and have endeavoured to moderate the
Court in my favour; then I should have scorn'd to have mentioned
it; but I must now complain of it, as unjust and unequal,
that my betrayer and undoer, the first cause of all my faults
and miscarriages (if they must be deemed such), should be
advanced to honour and power in this government that punishes
my misfortunes with stripes and infamy. I should be told, 'tis
like, that were there no act of Assembly in the case, the precepts
of religi