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It is easy to be persuaded that Mr. John Bigelow's edition of 'The Works of Benjamin Franklin' is likely to be the most complete, the most scholarly and acccurate, the 'Federal' edition. Mr. Bigelow was confessedly the foremost authority on Franklin. Beside the material now in print, carefully collated for the present purpose, so far as possible, with the original manuscripts, he has had free use of the supplementary Franklin MSS. purchased by the State Department in 1881, and not published before his work, and the autobiography has been printed for the first time in any collected edition of Franklin's Works, from the original manuscript, which was in Mr. BigeIow's possession. Mr. Bigelow promises upwards of 350 letters and documents which have never appeared in any previous collection, beside a thorough revision of the text throughout, and a new, chronological, arrangement of matter. The notes and other editorial additions are limited strictly to the illustration of the text. This is volume eleven out of twelve, covering the years 1784 through 1788.
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The Works of Benjamin FranklinVolume 11
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
The Works of Benjamin Franklin, Volume 11
Jazzybee Verlag Jürgen Beck
86450 Altenmünster, Loschberg 9
Deutschland
ISBN: 9783849654085
www.jazzybee-verlag.de
admin@jazzybee-verlag.de
CORRESPONDENCE AND MISCELLANEOUS WRITINGS 1784 - 1788 1
MCCCXX. O JOHN JAY.. 3
MCCCXXX. TO BENJAMIN VAUGHAN, ESQ.14
MCCCXL. TO JONATHAN WILLIAMS. 23
MCCCL. TO FRANCIS MASERES. 35
MCCCLX. FROM M. DE CASTRIES. 45
MCCCLXX. TO DAVID LE ROY Ref. 02151
MCCCLXXX. FROM M. DE MARBOIS. 110
MCCCXC. FROM GAETANO FILANGIERI117
MCCCC: DESCRIPTION OF AN INSTRUMENT FOR TAKING DOWN BOOKS FROM HIGH SHELVES 125
MCCCCX. TO THOMAS JEFFERSON... 137
MCCCCXX. TO M. LEROY.. 147
MCCCCXXX. TO JOHN JAY.. 156
MCCCCXL. TO M. L’ABBÉ DE LA ROCHE.. 163
MCCCCL. TO ALEXANDER SMALL. 171
MCCCCLX. TO THOMAS JEFFERSON.. 183
MCCCCLXX. FROM THE ABBÉ MORELLET.. 195
MCCCCLXXX: DR. FRANKLIN’S SPEECH IN THE CONVENTION, AT THE CONCLUSION OF ITS DELIBERATIONS. 215
MCCCCXC. TO THE GOVERNOR OF GEORGIA.. 225
MD. TO MRS. COLAS. 237
MDX. FROM THE DUKE DE LA ROCHEFOUCAULD... 248
MDXIV. TO MADAME LAVOISIER.. 253
ENDNOTES. 254
Passy [no date, circa 1784].
Sir:—
I should have been flattered exceedingly by Mrs. Melmoth’s showing the least inclination for one of those portraits, when Mrs. Izard accepted the other, and should have presented it to her with the greatest pleasure. She did not appear to desire it, and I did not presume it of value enough to be offered. Her quarrel with me on that account is pleasing. The reconciliation, when I can obtain it, will be more so. At present another lady has put it out of my power to comply with the terms. M. de Chaumont, at whose pottery in the country they were made, receiving a request from Petersburg for one of them, to gratify the curiosity of the Empress, and having none in town, he got from me the only one I had left, and has sent it away. But I am promised another soon, and shall seize the first moment of making my peace with it. In the meantime, I hope you will intercede for me, in that heart where I am sure you have an interest. Accept my thanks for the books, from the reading of which I promise myself a good deal of pleasure. Please to accept also the trifle enclosed, and believe me with most sincere esteem, etc.,
B. Franklin.
Passy, 3 January, 1785.
My Dear Friend:—
I received your kind letter of December 1st from Bath. I am glad to hear that your good sister is in a fair way towards recovery. My respects and best wishes attend her.
I communicated your letter to Mr. Jefferson, to remind him of his promise to communicate to you the intelligence he might receive from America on the subjects you mention, and now, having got back, I shall endeavor to answer the other parts of it.
What you propose to draw up of your opinions on American negotiation may be of great use if laid, as you intend, before administration, in case they seriously intend to enter on it after the meeting of Parliament; for I know your ideas all tend to a good understanding between the two countries and their common advantage, and in my mind, too, all selfish projects of partial profit are the effects of short-sightedness, they never producing permanent benefits, and are at length the causes of discord and its consequences, wherein much more is spent than all the temporary gains amounted to.
I do not know that any one is yet appointed by your court to treat with us. We some time since acquainted your minister with our powers and disposition to treat, which he communicated to his court, and received for answer that his Majesty’s ministers were ready to receive any propositions we might have to make for the common benefit of both countries, but they thought it more for the honor of both that the treaty should not be in a third place. We answered that, though we did not see much inconvenience in treating here, we would, as soon as we had finished some affairs at present on our hands, wait upon them, if they pleased, in London. We have since heard nothing.
We have no late accounts from America of any importance. You know the Congress adjourned the beginning of June till the beginning of November. And since their meeting there has been no account of their proceedings. All the stories in your papers relating to their divisions are fiction, as well as those of the people being discontented with congressional government. Mr. Jay writes to me that they were at no time more happy or more satisfied with their government than at present, nor ever enjoyed more tranquillity or prosperity. In truth, the freedom of their ports to all nations has brought in a vast plenty of foreign goods, and occasioned a demand for their produce, the consequence of which is the double advantage of buying what they consume cheap and selling what they can spare dear.
If we should come to London, I hope it may still be with you that we are to do business. Our already understanding one another may save, on many points, a good deal of time in discussion. But I doubt whether any treaty is intended on your part, and I fancy we shall not press it. It may perhaps be best to give both sides time to inquire, and to feel for the interests they cannot see. With sincere and great esteem, I am ever, my dear friend, yours most affectionately,
B. Franklin.
Passy, 8 February, 1785.
Dear Sir:—
I received by the Marquis de Lafayette your kind letter of the 13th of December. It gave me pleasure on two accounts, as it informed me of the public welfare, and that of your, I may almost say our, dear little family; for, since I had the pleasure of their being with me in the same house, I have ever felt a tender affection for them, equal, I believe, to that of most fathers.
I did hope to have heard, by the last packet, of, your having accepted the secretaryship of foreign affairs, but was disappointed. I write to you now, therefore, only as a private friend; yet I may mention respecting public affairs that, as far as I can perceive, the good disposition of this court towards us continues. I wish I could say as much for the rest of the European courts. I think that their desire of being connected with us by treaties is of late much abated, and this, I suppose, is occasioned by the pains Britain takes to represent us everywhere as distracted with divisions, discontented with our goverments, the people unwilling to pay taxes, the Congress unable to collect them, and many desiring the restoration of the old government. The English papers are full of this stuff, and their ministers get it copied into the foreign papers. The moving about of the Congress from place to place has also a bad effect, in giving color to the reports of their being afraid of the people. I hope they will soon settle somewhere, and by the steadiness and wisdom of their measures dissipate all those mists of misrepresentation raised by the remaining malice of ancient enemies, and establish our reputation for national justice and prudence as they have done for courage and perseverance.
It grieves me that we have not been able to discharge our first year’s payment of interest to this court, due the beginning of last month. I hope it will be the only failure, and that effectual measures will be taken to be exactly punctual hereafter. The good master, says the proverb, is lord of another man’s purse. The bad one, if he ever has again occasion to borrow, must pay dearly for his carelessness and injustice.
You are happy in having got back safe to your country. I should be less unhappy if I could imagine the delay of my congé useful to the States, or in the least degree necessary. But they have many equally capable of doing all I have to do here. The new proposed treaties are the most important things; but two can go through them as well as three, if indeed any are likely to be completed, which I begin to doubt, since the new ones make little progress, and the old ones, which wanted only the fiat of Congress, seem now to be going rather backward,—I mean those I had projected with Denmark and Portugal.
My grandsons are sensible of the honor of your remembrance, and present their respects to you and Mrs. Jay. I add my best wishes of health and happiness to you all, being, with sincere esteem and affection, dear sir, your most obedient humble servant,
B. Franklin.
Passy, 8 February, 1785.
Sir:—
I have received your letter of November 13th, with the preceding one therein mentioned. I had some discourse with Mr. Jay respecting you, and I expressed a willingness to assist you in setting up your business, on the same terms as I had formerly done with other young printers of good character, viz., Whitemarsh and Timothy in Carolina, Smith and afterwards Mecon at Antigua, Parker at New York, Franklin at Rhode Island, Holland Miller at Lancaster, and afterwards Dunlap, and Hall at Philadelphia, but nothing was concluded between us, and I expected to have been in America before this time, with a very large quantity of types which I have packed up. I still hope to be there in the ensuing summer, when we may carry this proposal into execution, if it shall suit you. In the meantime, I would not have you miss any good opportunity of settling yourself, for I am old and infirm, and accidents may prevent us. The good character given of you by Mr. Jay is my inducement to serve you if I can, and it will give me pleasure if it succeeds. I am obliged to you for the care you took in securing my press; and am, your friend and servant,
B. Franklin.
Sir:— If Mrs. Parker still lives at Woodbridge, perhaps she can show you the agreement between her husband and me, and you may consider the terms of it before my arrival.
Passy, 8 February, 1785.
Sir:—
I received by the Marquis de Lafayette the two letters you did me the honor of writing to me the 11th and 14th of December; the one enclosing a letter from Congress to the king, the other a resolve of Congress respecting the convention for establishing consuls. The letter was immediately delivered and well received. The resolve came too late to suspend signing the convention, it having been done July last, and a copy sent so long since that we now expected the ratification. As that copy seems to have miscarried I now send another.
I am not informed what objection has arisen in Congress to the plan sent me. Mr. Jefferson thinks it may have been to the part which restrained the consuls from all concern in commerce. That article was omitted, being thought unnecessary to be stipulated, since either party would always have the power of imposing such restraints on its own officers, whenever it should think fit. I am, however, of opinion that this or any other reasonable article or alteration may be obtained at the desire of Congress, and established by a supplement.
Permit me, sir, to congratulate you on your being called to the high honor of presiding in our national councils, and to wish you every felicity, being with the most perfect esteem, etc.,
B. Franklin.
Passy, 5 March, 1785.
Dear Friend:—
I received your kind letter by my grandson. I thank you for the civilities you showed him when in London.
I hope to get home this ensuing summer. I shall have an old account to settle then with the family of our friend Hall. There is a particular article of some importance, about which we were not agreed, but were to be determined by your opinion. It was the value of a copyright in an established newspaper, of each of which from eight to ten thousand were printed. My long absence from that country, and immense employment the little time I was there, have hitherto prevented the settlement of all the accounts that had been between us; though we never differed about them, and never should if that good honest man had continued in being. To prevent all dispute on the above points with his son, it is that I now request your decision, which I doubt not will be satisfactory to us both. With unchangeable esteem, I am ever, my dear friend, yours most affectionately,
B. Franklin.
My respects to Mrs. Strahan.
Passy, 14 March, 1785.
My Dear Friend:—
Among the thoughts you lately sent me was one entitled: Thoughts on Executive Justice. In return for that I send you a French one on the same subject, Observations concernant d’Exécution de l’Article II. de la Déclaration sur le Vol. They are both addressed to the judges, but written, as you will see, in a very different spirit. The English author is for hanging all thieves. The Frenchman is for proportioning punishments to offences.
If we really believe, as we profess to believe, that the law of Moses was the law of God, the dictate of divine wisdom, infinitely superior to human, on what principles do we ordain death as the punishment of an offence which, according to that law, was only to be punished by a restitution of fourfold? To put a man to death for an offence which does not deserve death, is it not murder? And, as the French writer says, Doit-on punir délit contre la société par un crime contre la nature?
Superfluous property is the creature of society. Simple and mild laws were sufficient to guard the property that was merely necessary. The savage’s bow, his hatchet, and his coat of skins were sufficiently secured, without law, by the fear of personal resentment and retaliation. When, by virtue of the first laws, part of the society accumulated wealth and grew powerful, they enacted others more severe, and would protect their property at the expense of humanity. This was abusing their power and commencing a tyranny. If a savage, before he entered into society, had been told: “Your neighbor by this means may become owner of a hundred deer; but if your brother, or your son, or yourself, having no deer of your own, and, being hungry, should kill one, an infamous death must be the consequence,” he would probably have preferred his liberty, and his common right of killing any deer, to all the advantages of society that might be proposed to him.
That it is better a hundred guilty persons should escape than one innocent person should suffer, is a maxim that has been long and generally approved; never, that I know of, controverted. Even the sanguinary author of the Thoughts agrees to it (p. 163), adding well, “that the very thought of injured innocence, and much more that of suffering innocence, must awaken all our tenderest and most compassionate feelings, and at the same time raise our highest indignation against the instruments of it. But,” he adds, “there is no danger of either, from a strict adherence to the laws.” Really! Is it then impossible to make an unjust law? and if the law itself be unjust, may it not be the very “instrument” which ought to “raise the author’s and everybody’s highest indignation”? I read, in the last newspaper from London, that a woman is capitally convicted at the Old Bailey, for privately stealing out of a shop some gauze, value fourteen shillings and threepence; is there any proportion between the injury done by a theft, value fourteen shillings and threepence, and the punishment of a human creature, by death, on a gibbet? Might not that woman, by her labor, have made the reparation ordained by God, in paying fourfold? Is not all punishment inflicted beyond the merit of the offence, so much punishment of innocence? In this light, how vast is the annual quantity of not only injured, but suffering innocence, in almost all the civilized states of Europe!
But it seems to have been thought that this kind of innocence may be punished by way of preventing crimes. I have read, indeed, of a cruel Turk in Barbary, who, whenever he bought a new Christian slave, ordered him immediately to be hung up by the legs, and to receive a hundred blows of a cudgel on the soles of his feet, that the severe sense of the punishment, and fear of incurring it thereafter, might prevent the faults that should merit it. Our author, himself, would hardly approve entirely of this Turk’s conduct in the government of slaves; and yet he appears to recommend something like it for the government of English subjects, when he applauds (p. 105) the reply of Judge Burnet to the convict horse-stealer, who, being asked what he had to say why judgment of death should not pass against him, and answering, that it was hard to hang a man for only stealing a horse, was told by the judge: “Man, thou are not to be hanged only for stealing a horse, but that horses may not be stolen.”
The man’s answer, if candidly examined, will, I imagine, appear reasonable, as being founded on the eternal principle of justice and equity, that punishments should be proportioned to offences; and the judge’s reply brutal and unreasonable, though the writer “wishes all judges to carry it with them whenever they go the circuit, and to bear it in their minds as containing a wise reason for all the penal statutes which they are called upon to put in execution. It at once illustrates,” says he, “the true grounds and reasons of all capital punishments whatsoever, namely, that every man’s property, as well as his life, may be held sacred and inviolate.” Is there then no difference in value between property and life? If I think it right that the crime of murder should be punished with death, not only as an equal punishment of the crime, but to prevent other murders, does it follow that I must approve of inflicting the same punishment for a little invasion on my property by theft? If I am not myself so barbarous, so bloody-minded and revengeful, as to kill a fellow-creature for stealing from me fourteen shillings and threepence, how can I approve of a law that does it? Montesquieu, who was himself a judge, endeavors to impress other maxims. He must have known what humane judges feel on such occasions, and what the effects of those feelings; and, so far from thinking that severe and excessive punishments prevent crimes, he asserts, as quoted by our French writer, page 4, that—
“L’atrocité des loix en empêche l’exécution.
Lorsque la peine est sans mesure, on est souvent obligé de lui préférer l’impunité.
La cause de tous les relâchemens vient de l’impunité des crimes, et non de la modération des peines.” Ref. 003
It is said by those who know Europe generally, that there are more thefts committed and punished annually in England than in all the other nations put together. If this be so, there must be a cause or causes for such depravity in your common people. May not one be the deficiency of justice and morality in your national government, manifested in your oppressive conduct to your subjects, and unjust wars on your neighbors? View the long-persisted in, unjust monopolizing treatment of Ireland at length acknowledged. View the plundering government exercised by your merchants in the Indies; the confiscating war made upon the American colonies; and, to say nothing of those upon France and Spain, view the late war upon Holland, which was seen by impartial Europe in no other light than that of a war of rapine and pillage, the hopes of an immense and easy prey being its only apparent, and probably its true and real, motive and encouragement.
Justice is as strictly due between neighbor nations as between neighbor citizens. A highwayman is as much a robber when he plunders in a gang as when single; and a nation that makes an unjust war is only a great gang. After employing your people in robbing the Dutch, is it strange that, being put out of that employ by the peace, they should continue robbing, and rob one another? Piraterie, as the French call it, or privateering, is the universal bent of the English nation, at home or abroad, wherever settled. No less than seven hundred privateers were, it is said, commissioned in the last war! These were fitted out by merchants, to prey upon other merchants, who had never done them any injury. Is there probably any one of those privateering merchants of London, who were so ready to rob the merchants of Amsterdam, that would not as readily plunder another London merchant of the next street, if he could do it with the same impunity? The avidity, the alieni appetens, is the same; it is the fear alone of the gallows that makes the difference. How then can a nation which, among the honestest of its people, has so many thieves by inclination, and whose government encouraged and commissioned no less than seven hundred gangs of robbers,—how can such a nation have the face to condemn the crime in individuals, and hang up twenty of them in a morning? It naturally puts one in mind of a Newgate anecdote. One of the prisoners complained that in the night somebody had taken his buckles out of his shoes. “What, the devil!” says another, “have we then thieves among us? It must not be suffered; let us search out the rogue, and pump him to death.”
There is, however, one late instance of an English merchant who will not profit by such ill-gotten gains. He was, it seems, part-owner of a ship, which the other owners thought fit to employ as a letter of marque, and which took a number of French prizes. The booty being shared, he has now an agent here inquiring, by an advertisement in the gazette, for those who suffered the loss, in order to make them, as far as in him lies, restitution. This conscientious man is a Quaker. The Scotch Presbyterians were formerly as tender; for there is still extant an ordinance of the town council of Edinburgh, made soon after the Reformation, “forbidding the purchase of prize goods, under pain of losing the freedom of the burgh forever, with other punishment at the will of the magistrate; the practice of making prizes being contrary to good conscience and the rule of treating Christian brethren as we would wish to be treated; and such goods are not to be sold by any godly men within this burgh.” The race of these godly men in Scotland is probably extinct or their principles abandoned; since, as far as that nation had a hand in promoting the war against the colonies, prizes and confiscations are believed to have been a considerable motive.
It has been for some time a generally received opinion, that a military man is not to inquire whether a war be just or unjust; he is to execute his orders. All princes who are disposed to become tyrants must probably approve of this opinion, and be willing to establish it; but is it not a dangerous one, since, on that principle, if the tyrant commands his army to attack and destroy, not only an unoffending neighbor nation, but even his own subjects, the army is bound to obey? A negro slave, in our colonies, being commanded by his master to rob or murder a neighbor, or do any other immoral act, may refuse, and the magistrate will protect him in his refusal. The slavery then of a soldier is worse than that of a negro! A conscientious officer, if not restrained by the apprehension of its being imputed to another cause, may indeed resign rather than be employed in an unjust war; but the private men are slaves for life, and they are perhaps incapable of judging for themselves. We can only lament their fate, and still more that of a sailor, who is often dragged by force from his honest occupation, and compelled to imbrue his hands in, perhaps, innocent blood.
But methinks it well behooves merchants (men more enlightened by their education, and perfectly free from any such force or obligation) to consider well of the justice of a war before they voluntarily engage a gang of ruffians to attack their fellow merchants of a neighboring nation, to plunder them of their property, and perhaps ruin them and their families if they yield it, or to wound, maim, and murder them if they endeavor to defend it. Yet these things are done by Christian merchants, whether a war be just or unjust, and it can hardly be just on both sides. They are done by English and American merchants, who, nevertheless, complain of private theft, and hang by dozens the thieves they have taught by their own example.
It is high time, for the sake of humanity, that a stop were put to this enormity. The United States of America, though better situated than any European nation to make profit by privateering (most of the trade of Europe, with the West Indies, passing before their doors), are, as far as in them lies, endeavoring to abolish the practice, by offering in all their treaties with other powers an article, engaging solemnly that in case of future war no privateer shall be commissioned on either side, and that unarmed merchant-ships on both sides shall pursue their voyages unmolested. Ref. 004 This will be a happy improvement of the laws of nations. The humane and the just cannot but wish general success to the proposition. With unchangeable esteem and affection, I am, my dear friend, ever yours,
B. Franklin.
Passy, 18 March, 1785.
Dear Friend:—
My nephew, Mr. Williams, will have the honor of delivering you this line. It is to request from you a list of a few books, to the value of about twenty-five pounds, such as are most proper to inculcate principles of sound religion and just government. A new town in the State of Massachusetts having done me the honor of naming itself after me, and proposing to build a steeple to their meetinghouse if I would give them a bell, I have advised the sparing themselves the expense of a steeple for the present, and that they would accept of books instead of a bell, sense being preferable to sound. These are therefore intended as the commencement of a little parochial library for the use of a society of intelligent, respectable farmers, such as our country people generally consist of. Besides your own works, I would only mention, on the recommendation of my sister, Stennett’s Discourses on Personal Religion, which may be one book of the number, if you know and approve it. Ref. 005
With the highest esteem and respect, I am ever, my dear friend, yours most affectionately,
B. Franklin.
Passy, 22 March, 1785.
Dear Sir:—
I received duly your letter of the 27th past, which gave me great pleasure, as the length of time since I had heard from you made me apprehensive that you might be ill. I immediately communicated the papers enclosed with it to my colleagues, Messrs. Adams and Jefferson, and we have had several meetings on the Barbary affair. Probably by next week’s post we may write fully upon it to you, and to Morocco.
I am glad you are likely to succeed in obtaining the liberty of our silly countryman. The discipline they have granted him is, however, not misapplied. Mr. Grand, being now in cash, your bills on him for your salary will be fully honored. I mention your drawing on him, because probably I may not be here, as I expect daily the permission of Congress to return home, and shall embrace the first opportunity. Wherever I am, be assured of the invariable esteem and attachment of, dear sir, your affectionate friend,
B. Franklin.
Passy, 12 April, 1785.
Sir:—
M. de Chaumont, who will have the honor of presenting this line to your Excellency, is a young gentleman of excellent character, whose father was one of our most early friends in this country, which he manifested by crediting us with a thousand barrels of gunpowder and other military stores in 1776, before we had provided any apparent means of payment. He has, as I understand, some demands to make on Congress, the nature of which I am unacquainted with; but my regard for the family makes me wish that they may obtain a speedy consideration and such favorable issue as they may appear to merit.
To this end, I beg leave to recommend him to your countenance and protection, and am, with great respect, etc.,
B. Franklin.
Passy, 13 April, 1785.
Dear Cousin:—
I received your letter of December 16th, relating to Jonas Hartwell. I had before written to our minister at Madrid, Mr. Carmichael, requesting him to apply for the release of that man. Enclosed I send his answer, with copies of other papers relating to the affair. The simpleton will be discharged, perhaps, after being a little whipped for his folly, and that may not be amiss. We have here another New England man, Thayer, formerly a candidate for the ministry, who converted himself lately at Rome, and is now preparing to return home for the purpose of converting his countrymen. Our ancestors from Catholic became first Church-of-England men, and then refined into Presbyterians. To change now from Presbyterianism to Popery seems to me refining backwards, from white sugar to brown.
I have written to Dr. Price, of London, requesting him to make a choice of proper books to commence a library for the use of the inhabitants of Franklin. The parcel will be sent directly from thence.
Jonathan and his family are well. He expects to be with you soon. I continue very hearty and well, except my malady of the stone, which, however, is hitherto very tolerable. My love to cousin Grace, etc., and believe me ever your affectionate uncle,
B. Franklin.
P. S. April 14th.—I send enclosed a bill drawn by W. Vernon, junior, on his father, for 840 livres, which I request you would receive and deliver to my sister Mecom.
Passy, 20 April, 1785.
Dear Sir:—
I thank you much for the postscript respecting my disorder, the stone. I have taken heretofore, and am now again taking the remedy you mention, which is called Blackrie’s Solvent. It is the soap lye, with lime-water, and I believe it may have some effect in diminishing the symptoms and preventing the growth of the stone, which is all I expect from it. It does not hurt my appetite. I sleep well and enjoy my friends in cheerful conversation, as usual; but as I cannot use much exercise, I eat more sparingly than formerly, and I drink no wine.
I admire that you should be so timid in asking leave of your good imperial master to make a journey for visiting a friend. I am persuaded you would succeed, and I hope the proposition I have repeated to you in this letter will assist your courage and enable you to ask and obtain. If you come hither soon, you may, when present, get your book finished and be ready to proceed with me to America. While writing this I have received from Congress my leave to return; and I believe I shall be ready to embark by the middle of July, at farthest. I shall now be free from politics for the rest of my life. Welcome again my dear philosophical amusements!
I see by a full page of your letter that you have been possessed with strange ideas of America; that there is no justice to be obtained there, no recovery of debts, projects of insurrection to overturn the present goverment, etc., etc.; that a Virginia colonel, nephew of the governor, had cheated a stranger of a hundred thousand livres, and that somebody was imprisoned for only speaking of it; and the like very improbable stories. They are all fictions or misrepresentations. If they were truths, all strangers would avoid such a country, and foreign merchants would as soon carry their goods to sell in Newgate as America. Think a little on the sums England has spent to preserve a monopoly of the trade of that people, with whom they had long been acquainted; and of the desire all Europe is now manifesting to obtain a share of that trade. Our ports are full of their ships, their merchants buying and selling in our streets continually, and returning with our products. Would this happen, could such commerce be continued with us, if we were such a collection of scoundrels and villains as we have been represented to you? And insurrections against our rulers are not only unlikely, as the rulers are the choice of the people, but unnecessary; as, if not liked, they may be changed continually by the new elections.
I own you have cause, great cause, to complain of ——, but you are wrong to condemn the whole country by a single example. I have seen many countries, and I do not know a country in the world in which justice is so well administered, where protection and favor have so little power to impede its operations, and where debts are recovered with so much facility. If I thought it such a country as has been painted to you, I should certainly never return to it. The truth, I believe, is, that more goods have been carried thither from all parts of Europe than the consumption of the country requires, and it is natural that some of the adventurers are willing to discourage others from following them, lest the prices should still be kept down by the arrival of fresh cargoes; and it is not unlikely that some negligent or unfaithful factors sent thither may have given such accounts to excuse their not making remittances; and the English magnify all this, and spread it abroad in their papers, to dissuade foreigners from attempting to interfere with them in their commerce with us.
Your account of the Emperor’s condescending conversation with you concerning me is pleasing. I respect very much the character of that monarch, and think that if I were one of his subjects he would find me a good one. I am glad that his difference with your country is likely to be accommodated without bloodshed. The Courier de l’Europe and some other papers printed a letter on that difference, which they ascribed to me. Be assured, my friend, that I never wrote it, nor was ever presumptuous enough to meddle with an affair so much out of my way.
Yours, etc.,
B. Franklin.
Passy, 21 April, 1785.
Dear Friend:—
I received your kind letter of the 23d past by Mr. Perry, with the other bottle of Blackrie. I thank you much for your care in sending them. I should have been glad to be of any use to Mr. Perry, but he had placed his children before I saw him, and he stayed with me only a few minutes.
We see much in parliamentary proceedings, and in papers and pamphlets, of the injury the concessions to Ireland will do to the manufacturers of England, while the people of England seem to be forgotten, as if quite out of the question. If the Irish can manufacture cottons, and stuffs, and silks, and linens, and cutlery, and toys, and books, etc., etc., etc., so as to sell them cheaper in England than the manufacturers of England sell them, is not this good for the people of England who are not manufacturers? And will not even the manufacturers themselves share the benefit? since if cottons are cheaper, all the other manufacturers who wear cottons will save in that article; and so of the rest. If books can be had much cheaper from Ireland (which I believe, for I bought Blackstone there for twenty-four shillings, when it was sold in England at four guineas) is not this an advantage, not to English booksellers, indeed, but to English readers, and to learning? and of all the complainants perhaps these booksellers are least worthy of consideration. The catalogue you last sent me amazes me by the high prices (said to be the lowest) affixed to each article. And one can scarce see a new book without observing the excessive artifices made use of to puff up a paper of verses into a pamphlet, a pamphlet into an octavo, and an octavo into a quarto, with scab-boardings, whitelines, sparse titles of chapters, and exorbitant margins, to such a degree that the selling of paper seems now the object, and printing on it only the pretence. I enclose the copy of a page in a late comedy. Between every two lines there is a white space equal to another line. You have a law, I think, against butchers blowing of veal to make it look fatter? why not one against booksellers blowing of books to make them look bigger? All this to yourself; you can easily guess the reason.
My grandson is a little indisposed, but sends you two pamphlets, Figaro and Le Roy Voyageur. The first is a play of Beaumarchais, which has had a great run here; the other a representation of all the supposed errors of government in this country, some of which are probably exaggerated. It is not publicly sold; we shall send some more shortly.
Please to remember me very respectfully and affectionately to good Dr. Price. I am glad that he has printed a translation of the Testament; it may do good. I am ever, my dear friend, yours most sincerely,
B. Franklin.
Scene IV: Sir John and Wildmore
Sir John.
Whither so fast?
Wildmore.
To the Opera.
Sir John.
It is not the ———?
Wildmore.
Yes it is.
Sir John.
Never on a Sunday.
Wildmore.
Is this Sunday?
Sir John.
Yes, sure.
Wildmore.
I remember nothing; I shall soon forget my Christian name.
If this page was printed running on like Erasmus’ Colloquies, it would not have made more than five lines.
Passy, 28 April, 1785.
Sir:—
I return your paper relating to maïs, which I have perused with pleasure. I am glad to learn that good beer may be made of it, which is new to me. I send herewith some observations on the use of that grain, of which you are at liberty to make such use as you may think proper. Your Patisseur has done wonders; I am delighted with his productions, and shall wish to take a quantity of them with me to eat at sea.
With great esteem, etc.,
B. Franklin.
Passy, 29 April, 1785.
My Dear Friend:—
. . . Lady Dowager Penn was here about the time of the treaty, and made application to me with great complaints, but I found she was not well informed of the state of her affairs, and could not clearly show that she had suffered any injury from the public of Pennsylvania, whatever she might from the agents of the family. Her husband’s lands, I understand, were not confiscated as represented; but the proprietary government falling with that of the crown, the Assembly took the opportunity of insisting upon justice in some points, which they could never obtain under that government. A kind of compromise then was made between the Assembly and the family, whereby all the vacant lots and unappropriated wilderness lands were to be henceforth in the disposition of the Assembly, who were to pay £130,000 sterling to the family within three years after the peace, all other demands on both sides being thus abolished. I am told that this arrangement was satisfactory to most of them. But as the lady intended to send her son over to solicit her interests, I gave him a letter of recommendation to the governor, proposing it for consideration whether it might not be advisable to reconsider the matter, and if the sum of £130,000 should be found insufficient, to make a proper addition. I have not heard what has since been done in the affair, or whether any thing. In my own judgment, when I consider that for nearly eighty years, viz., from the year 1700, William Penn and his sons received the quit-rents which were originally granted for the support of government, and yet refused to support the government, obliging the people to make a fresh provision for its support all that time, which cost them vast sums, as the most necessary laws were not to be obtained but at the price of making such provision; when I consider the meanness and cruel avarice of the late proprietor in refusing, for several years of war, to consent to any defence of the frontiers ravaged all the while by the enemy, unless his estate should be exempted from paying any part of the expense, not to mention other atrocities too long for this letter, I cannot but think the family well off, and that it will be prudent in them to take the money and be quiet. William Penn, the first proprietor, father of Thomas, the husband of the present dowager, was a wise and good man, and as honest to the people as the extreme distress of his circumstances would permit him to be, but the said Thomas was a miserable churl, always intent upon griping and saving; and whatever good the father may have done for the province was amply undone by the mischief received from the son, who never did any thing that had the appearance of generosity or public spirit but what was extorted from him by solicitation and the shame of backwardness in benefits evidently incumbent on him to promote, and which was done at last in the most ungracious manner possible. The lady’s complaints of not duly receiving her revenues from America are habitual; they were the same during all the time of my long residence in London, being then made by her husband as excuses for the meanness of his housekeeping and his deficiency in hospitality, though I knew at the same time that he was then in full receipt of vast sums annually by the sale of lands, interest of money, and quit-rents. But probably he might conceal this from his lady to induce greater economy, as it is known that he ordered no more of his income home than was absolutely necessary for his subsistence, but placed it at interest in Pennsylvania and the Jerseys, where he could have six or seven per cent., while money bore no more than five per cent, in England. I used often to hear of these complaints and laugh at them, perceiving clearly their motive. They served him on other as well as on domestic occasions. You remember our rector of St. Martin’s Parish, Dr. Saunders. He once went about, during a long and severe frost, soliciting charitable contributions to purchase coals for poor families. He came, among others, to me, and I gave him something. It was but little, very little, and yet it occasioned him to remark: “You are more bountiful on this occasion than your wealthy proprietary, Mr. Penn, but he tells me he is distressed by not receiving his incomes from America.” The incomes of the family there must still be very great, for they have a number of manors consisting of the best lands, which are preserved to them, and vast sums at interest well secured by mortgages; so that if the dowager does not receive her proportion, there must be some fault in her agents. You will perceive by the length of this article that I have been a little échauffé by her making the complaints you mention to the Princess Dowager of Lichtenstein at Vienna. The lady herself is good and amiable, and I should be glad to serve her in any thing just and reasonable; but I do not at present see that I can do more than I have done. . . .
B. Franklin.
Passy, 29 April, 1785.
My Dear Friend:—
. . . I confess that a man who can leave so many letters so long unanswered does not deserve so valuable a correspondence as yours. But I am grown very old, being now in my eightieth year; I am engaged in much business that must not be neglected. Writing becomes more and more irksome to me; I grow more indolent; philosophic discussions, not being urgent like business, are postponed from time to time till they are forgotten. Besides, I have been these twenty months past afflicted with the stone, which is always giving me more or less uneasiness, unless when I am laid in bed; and, when I would write, it interrupts my train of thinking, so that I lay down my pen and seek some light amusement.
I consent to your request concerning my paper on the weathercock struck by lightning. Dispose of it as you please.
You will find an account of the first great stroke I received, in pages 160, 161, of my book, fifth edition, 1774. Ref. 006 The second I will now give you. I had a paralytic patient in my chamber, whose friends brought him to receive some electric shocks. I made them join hands so as to receive the shock at the same time, and I charged two large jars to give it. By the number of those people, I was obliged to quit my usual standing, and placed myself inadvertently under an iron hook which hung from the ceiling down to within two inches of my head, and communicated by a wire with the outside of the jars. I attempted to discharge them, and in fact did so; but I did not perceive it, though the charge went through me, and not through the persons I intended it for. I neither saw the flash, heard the report, nor felt the stroke. When my senses returned, I found myself on the floor. I got up, not knowing how that had happened. I then again attempted to discharge the jars; but one of the company told me they were already discharged, which I could not at first believe, but on trial found it true. They told me they had not felt it, but they saw I was knocked down by it, which had greatly surprised them. On recollecting myself, and examining my situation, I found the case clear. A small swelling rose on the top of my head, which continued sore for some days; but I do not remember any other effect, good or bad.
The stroke you received, and its consequences, are much more curious. I communicated that part of your letter to an operator, encouraged by government here to electrify epileptic and other poor patients, and advised his trying the practice on mad people, according to your opinion. I have not heard whether he has done it.
B. Franklin.
Passy, 3 May, 1785.
Sir:—
I have the honor to acquaint your Excellency that I have at length obtained, and yesterday received, the permission of Congress to return to America. As my malady makes it impracticable for me to pay my devoirs at Versailles personally, may I beg the favor of you, sir, to express respectfully for me to his Majesty the deep sense I have of all the inestimable benefits his goodness has conferred on my country; a sentiment that it will be the business of the little remainder of life now left me to impress equally on the minds of all my countrymen. My sincere prayers are, that God may shower down his blessings on the king, the queen, their children, and all the royal family to the latest generations!
Permit me at the same time to offer you my thankful acknowledgments for the protection and countenance you afforded me at my arrival, and your many favors during my residence here, of which I shall always retain the same grateful remembrance. My grandson would have had the honor of waiting on you with this letter, but he has been some time ill of a fever.
With the greatest esteem and respect, and best wishes for the constant prosperity of yourself and all your amiable family, I am, sir, your Excellency’s most obedient and most humble servant,
B. Franklin.
Passy, 5 May, 1785.
My Dear, Dear Friend:—
I received your little letter from Dover, which gave me great pleasure, as it informed me of your happy progress so far in your way home. I hope the rest of your journey was as prosperous. Ref. 007
You talk of obligations to me, when in fact I am the person obliged. I passed a long winter, which appeared the shortest of any I ever passed. Such is the effect of pleasing society, with friends one loves.
I have now received my permission to return, and am making my preparations. I hope to get away in June. I promise myself, or rather flatter myself, that I shall be happy when at home. But, however happy that circumstance may make me, your joining me there will surely make me happier, provided your change of country may be for the advantage of your dear little family. When you have made up your mind on the subject, let me know by a line, that I may prepare a house for you as near me, and otherwise as convenient for you, as possible.
My neighbors begin to come out from Paris, and replace themselves in their Passy houses. They inquire after you, and are sorry you are gone before they could make themselves known to you. M. le Veillard, in particular, has told me at different times what indeed I knew long since, C’est une bien digne femme, cette Madame Hewson, une trés aimable femme. I would not tell you this if I thought it would make you vain; but that is impossible; you have too much good sense.
So wish me a good voyage, and, when you pray at church for all that travel by land or sea, think of your affectionate friend,
B. Franklin.
P. S.—My love to William, and Thomas, and Eliza, and tell them I miss their cheerful prattle. Temple being sick, and Benjamin at Paris, I have found it very triste breakfasting alone, and sitting alone, and without any tea in the evening.
Versailles, 8 May, 1785.
Sir:—
I have learned with the greatest concern that you are soon to leave us. You will carry with you the affections of all France, for nobody has been more esteemed than you. I shall call on you at Passy, to desire you to retain for me a share in your remembrance, and renew to you personally the assurances of the most perfect attachment with which I have the honor to be, sir, etc.,
De Rayneval.
Passy, 10 May, 1785.
Dear Son and Daughter:—
Having at length received from Congress permission to return home, I am now preparing for my departure, and hope to get away by the middle of next month, or the end at farthest, though I know not yet whether it will be by the packet or some other vessel. Fearing that the packet may be crowded with passengers, I have desired my cousin, Jonathan Williams, now in London, to enquire whether there may not be found some good vessel bound directly to Philadelphia, who would agree to take me on board at Havre, with my grandsons and servants, with my baggage, etc. Infirm as I am, I have need of comfortable room and accommodation. I was miserably lodged in coming over hither, which almost demolished me. I must be better stowed now, or I shall not be able to hold out the voyage. Indeed my friends here are so apprehensive for me, that they press me much to remain in France, and three of them have offered me an asylum in their habitations. They tell me that I am here among a people who universally esteem and love me; that my friends at home are diminished by death in my absence; that I may there meet with envy and its consequent enmity which here I am perfectly free from; this supposing I live to complete the voyage, but of that they doubt. The desire, however, of spending the little remainder of life with my family is so strong as to determine me to try at least whether I can bear the motion of the ship. If not, I must get them to set me on shore somewhere in the Channel, and content myself to die in Europe.
It is long since I have heard from you or of you. I hope, however, that you and the children continue well. Ben is very well, and grows amazingly. He promises to be a stout as well as a good man. Temple has been ill lately with a fever, but is getting better and sends his duty. I suppose Ben writes. I am ever, my dear children, your affectionate father,
B. Franklin.
Passy, 10 May, 1785.
Sir:—
I received your kind letter of the 8th of March, enclosing the resolution of Congress permitting my return to America, for which I am thankful, and am now preparing to depart the first good opportunity. Next to the pleasure of rejoining my own family will be that of seeing you and yours well and happy, and embracing once more my little friend, whose singular attachment to me I shall always remember.
I shall be glad to render any acceptable service to Mr. Randall. I conveyed the bayberry wax to Abbé de Chalut, with your compliments, as you desired. He returns his with many thanks. Be pleased to make my respectful compliments acceptable to Mrs. Jay, and believe me ever, with sincere and great respect and esteem, etc.,
B. Franklin.
Passy, 10 May, 1785.
Dear Sir:—
An old gentleman in Switzerland, long of the magistracy there, having written a book entitled Du Gouvernement et des Mœurs, which is thought to contain many matters that may be useful in America, desired to know of me how he could convey a number of printed copies, to be distributed gratis among the members of Congress. I advised his addressing the package to you by way of Amsterdam, whence a friend of mine would forward it. It is accordingly shipped there on board the Van Berckel Captain W. Campbell. There are good things in the work, but its chapter on the liberty of the press appears to me to contain more rhetoric than reason. With great esteem, I am ever, etc.,
B. Franklin.
Passy, 19 May, 1785.
—— The conversations you mention respecting America are suitable. Those people speak what they wish; but she was certainly never in a more happy situation. They are angry with us, and speak all manner of evil of us; but we flourish notwithstanding. They put me in mind of a violent High Church factor, resident in Boston, when I was a boy. He had bought upon speculation a Connecticut cargo of onions, which he flattered himself he might sell again to great profit, but the price fell, and they lay upon hand. He was heartily vexed with his bargain, especially when he observed they began to grow in the store he had filled with them. He showed them one day to a friend. “Here they are,” said he, “and they are growing too! I damn them every day; but I think they are like the Presbyterians; the more I curse them, the more they grow.” Yours,
B. Franklin.
Passy, 19 May, 1785.
Dear Old Friend:—
I received the very good letter you sent me by my grandson, together with your resemblance, which is placed in my chamber, and gives me great pleasure. There is no trade, they say, without returns, and therefore I am punctual in making those you have ordered.
I intended this should have been a long epistle, but I am interrupted, and can only add that I am ever yours most affectionately,
B. Franklin.
Versailles, 22 May, 1785.
Sir:—
I have learned with much concern of your retiring, and of your approaching departure for America. You cannot doubt but that the regrets which you will leave will be proportionate to the consideration you so justly enjoy.
I can assure you, sir, that the esteem the king entertains for you does not leave you any thing to wish, and that his Majesty will learn with real satisfaction that your fellow-citizens have rewarded, in a manner worthy of you, the important services that you have rendered them.
I beg, sir, that you will preserve for me a share in your remembrance, and never doubt the sincerity of the interest I take in your happiness. It is founded on the sentiments of attachment, of which I have assured you, and with which I have the honor to be, etc.,
De Vergennes.
Passy, 23 May, 1785.
Dear Old Friend:—
I sent you a few lines the other day, with my medallion, when I should have written more, but was prevented by the coming in of a bavard, who worried me till evening. I bore with him, and now you are to bear with me; for I shall probably bavarder in answering your letter.
I am not acquainted with the saying of Alphonsus, which you allude to as a sanctification of your rigidity in refusing to allow me the plea of old age as an excuse for my want of exactness in correspondence. What was that saying? You do not, it seems, feel any occasion for such an excuse, though you are, as you say, rising seventy-five. But I am rising (perhaps more properly falling) eighty, and I leave the excuse with you till you arrive at that age; perhaps you may then be more sensible of its validity, and see fit to use it for yourself.
I must agree with you, that the gout is bad, and that the stone is worse. I am happy in not having them both together, and I join in your prayer, that you may live till you die without either. But I doubt the author of the epitaph you send me was a little mistaken when he, speaking of the world, says that
“he ne’er cared a pin
What they said or may say of the mortal within.”
It is so natural to wish to be well spoken of, whether alive or dead, that I imagine he could not be quite exempt from that desire; and that at least he wished to be thought a wit, or he would not have given himself the trouble of writing so good an epitaph to leave behind him. Was it not as worthy of his care, that the world should say he was an honest and a good man? I like better the concluding sentiment in the old song, called The Old Man’s Wish, wherein, after wishing for a warm house in a country town, an easy horse, some good authors, ingenious and cheerful companions, a pudding on Sundays, with stout ale and a bottle of Burgundy, etc., etc., in separate stanzas, each ending with this burthen,
“May I govern my passions with absolute sway,
Grow wiser and better as my strength wears away,
Without gout or stone, by a gentle decay,”
he adds:
“With a courage undaunted may I face the last day,
And, when I am gone, may the better sort say:
‘In the morning when sober, in the evening when mellow,
He ’s gone, and has not left behind him his fellow;
For he governed his passions,’ etc.”
But what signifies our wishing? Things happen, after all, as they will happen. I have sung that wishing song a thousand times when I was young, and now find, at fourscore, that the three contraries have befallen me—being subject to the gout and the stone, and not being yet master of all my passions. Like the proud girl in the country, who wished and resolved not to marry a parson, nor a Presbyterian, nor an Irishman; and at length found herself married to an Irish Presbyterian parson.
You see I have some reason to wish that, in a future state, I may not only be as well as I was, but a little better. And I hope it; for I, too, with your poet, trust in God. And when I observe that there is great frugality as well as wisdom in his works, since he has been evidently sparing both of labor and materials, for by the various inventions of propagation he has provided for the continual peopling his world with plants and animals, without being at the trouble of repeated new creations; and by the natural reduction of compound substances to their original elements, capable of being employed in new compositions, he has prevented the necessity of creating new matter; so that the earth, water, air, and perhaps fire, which, being compounded from wood, do, when the wood is dissolved, return, and again become air, earth, fire, and water;—I say that when I see nothing annihilated, and not even a drop of water wasted, I cannot suspect the annihilation of souls, or believe that he will suffer the daily waste of millions of minds ready made that now exist, and put himself to the continual trouble of making new ones. Thus finding myself to exist in the world, I believe I shall, in some shape or other, always exist; and, with all the inconveniences human life is liable to, I shall not object to a new edition of mine; hoping, however, that the errata of the last may be corrected.
I return your note of children received in the Foundling Hospital at Paris, from 1741 to 1755, inclusive; and I have added the years succeeding, down to 1770. Those since that period I have not been able to obtain. I have noted in the margin the gradual increase, viz., from every tenth child so thrown upon the public, till it comes to every third! Fifteen years have passed since the last account, and probably it may now amount to one half. Is it right to encourage this monstrous deficiency of natural affection? A surgeon I met with here excused the women of Paris, by saying, seriously, that they could not give suck; “car,” said he “elles n’ont point de tetons.” He assured me it was a fact, and bade me look at them, and observe how flat they were on the breast; “they have nothing more there,” said he, “than I have upon the back of my hand. I have since thought that there might be some truth in his observation, and that, possibly, nature, finding they made no use of bubbies, has left off giving them any. Yet, since Rousseau pleaded, with admirable eloquence, for the rights of children to their mother’s milk, the mode has changed a little; and some ladies of quality now suckle their infants and find milk enough. May the mode descend to the lower ranks, till it becomes no longer the custom to pack their infants away, as soon as born, to the Enfans Trouvés, with the careless observation that the king is better able to maintain them.
I am credibly informed that nine tenths of them die there pretty soon, which is said to be a great relief to the institution, whose funds would not otherwise be sufficient to bring up the remainder. Except the few persons of quality above mentioned, and the multitude who send to the hospital, the practice is to hire nurses in the country to carry out the children and take care of them there. Here is an office for examining the health of nurses and giving them licenses. They come to town on certain days of the week in companies to receive the children, and we often meet trains of them on the road returning to the neighboring villages, with each a child in her arms. But those who are good enough to try this way of raising their children are often not able to pay the expense; so that the prisons are crowded with wretched fathers and mothers confined pour mois de nourrice, though it is laudably a favorite charity to pay for them and set such prisoners at liberty. I wish success to the new project of assisting the poor to keep their children at home, because I think there is no nurse like a mother (or not many), and that, if parents did not immediately send their infants out of sight, they would in a few days begin to love them, and thence be spurred to greater industry for their maintenance. This is a subject you understand better than I, and, therefore, having perhaps said too much, I drop it. I only add to the notes a remark, from the History of the Academy of Sciences, much in favor of the Foundling Institution.
The Philadelphia Bank goes on, as I hear, very well. What you call the Cincinnati Institution is no institution of our government, but a private convention among the officers of our late army, and so universally disliked by the people, that it is supposed it will be dropped. It was considered as an attempt to establish something like an hereditary rank or nobility. I hold with you, that it was wrong; may I add, that all descending honors are wrong and absurd; that the honor of virtuous actions appertains only to him that performs them, and is in its nature incommunicable. If it were communicable by descent, it must also be divisible among the descendants; and the more ancient the family, the less would be found existing in any one branch of it; to say nothing of the greater chance of unlucky interruptions. Ref. 009
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