Chapter V: Franklin as a Writer (2)

_Fell._ True and yet I have done my best Endeavours. In
various ways I have given the Miscreant as much Poison
as would have kill'd an Elephant. He has swallow'd Dose
after Dose; far from hurting him, he seems the better
for it. He hath a wonderfully strong Constitution. I
find I can not kill him but by cutting his Throat, and
that, as I take it, is not my Business.

_Rodrigue._ Then it must be mine.

Another letter, signed "A Londoner," illustrates the difficulty which the sober good-sense of Franklin, always disposed to reduce things to their material terms, experienced in understanding the recklessness with which the British Government was hazarding the commercial value of the colonies.

To us in the Way of Trade comes now, and has long come
[he said] all the superlucration arising from their
Labours. But will our reviling them as Cheats,
Hypocrites, Scoundrels, Traitors, Cowards, Tyrants,
&c., &c., according to the present Court Mode in all
our Papers, make them more our Friends, more fond of
our Merchandise? Did ever any Tradesmen succeed, who
attempted to drub Customers into his Shop? And will
honest JOHN BULL, the Farmer, be long satisfied with
Servants, that before his Face attempt to kill his
_Plow Horses?_

In his eager desire to influence public sentiment in England in behalf of the Colonies, Franklin even devised and distributed a rude copper plate engraving, visualizing the woful condition to which Great Britain would be reduced, if she persisted in her harsh and unwise conduct towards her colonies. Many impressions of this engraving were struck off at his request on the cards which he occasionally used in writing his notes, and the design he also had printed for circulation on half sheets of paper with an explanation and a moral of his composition. The details of the illustration, which are all duly elucidated in the explanation, are those of abject and irredeemable ruin. The limbs of Britannia, duly labelled Virginia, Pennsylvania, New York and New England respectively, lie scattered about her, and she herself, with her eyes and arm stumps, uplifted to Heaven, is seen sliding off the globe, with a streamer inscribed _Date Obolum Bellisario_ thrown across all that remains of her legs. Her shield, which she is unable to handle, lies useless by her side. The leg, labelled New England, has been transfixed by her lance. The hand of the arm, labelled Pennsylvania, has released its grasp upon a small spray of laurel. The English oak has lost its crown, and stands a bare trunk with briars and thorns at its feet, and a single dry branch sticks out from its side. In the background are Britannia's ships with brooms at their topmastheads denoting that they are for sale. The moral of the whole was that the Thames and the Ohio, Edinburgh and Dublin were all one, and that invidious discriminations in favor of one part of the Empire to the prejudice of the rest could not fail to be attended with the most disastrous consequences to the whole State.

Nothing produced by Franklin between the date of his return from his second mission to England and his departure from America for France needs to be noticed. The two or three papers from his pen, which belong to this period, are distinctly below his ordinary standards of composition. Nor are any of the graver writings composed by him during the remainder of his life with some exceptions very noteworthy. In one, his comparison of Great Britain and the United States in regard to the basis of credit in the two countries, he presented with no little ability the proposition that, by reason of general industry, frugality, ability, prudence and virtue, America was a much safer debtor than Britain; to say nothing of the satisfaction that generous minds were bound to feel in reflecting that by loans to America they were opposing tyranny, and aiding the cause of liberty, which was the cause of all mankind. The object of this paper was to forward the loan of two millions of pounds sterling that the United States were desirous of procuring abroad. Unfortunately, the matter was one not to be settled by argument but by the Bourse, which has a barometric reasoning of its own. In another paper, thrown into the form of a catechism, Franklin, by a series of clever questions and answers, brings to the attention of the world the fact that it would take one hundred and forty-eight years, one hundred and nine days and twenty-two hours for a man to count the English national debt, though he counted at the rate of one hundred shillings per minute, during twelve hours of each day. That the shillings, making up this enormous sum, would weigh sixty-one millions, seven hundred and fifty-two thousand, four hundred and seventy-six Troy pounds, that it would take three hundred and fourteen ships, of one hundred tons each, or thirty-one thousand, four hundred and fifty-two carts to move them, and that, if laid close together in a straight line, they would stretch more than twice around the circumference of the earth, are other facts elicited by the questions of the catechism. It concludes in this manner:

Q. When will government be able to pay the principal?

A. When there is more money in England's treasury than
there is in all Europe.

Q. And when will that be?

A. Never.

This was very ingenious and clever, and has been imitated a hundred times over since by _ad captandum_ statisticians, but it needed an interest default on the part of John Bull to make it effective.

Franklin's conceit in the Edict that Saxony was as much the mother country of England as England was of America was, it must be admitted, made to do rather more than its share of service. It reappeared in his _Vindication and Offer from Congress to Parliament_, when, in repelling the charge that America was ungrateful to England, he said that there was much more reason for retorting that charge on Britain which not only never contributed any aid, nor afforded, by an exclusive commerce, any advantages, to Saxony, _her_ mother country, but no longer since than the last war, without the least provocation, subsidized the King of Prussia, while he ravaged that mother country, and carried fire and sword into its capital, the fine City of Dresden.

The same conceit also reappeared a second time in the _Dialogue between Britain, France, Spain, Holland, Saxony and America_, which he wrote soon after he arrived in France as one of our envoys. In this lively dialogue, Britain beseeches Spain, France and Holland successively not to supply America with arms. Spain reminds her of her intervention in behalf of the Dutch, and expresses surprise at her impudence. France reminds her of her intervention in behalf of the Huguenots, and tells her that she must be a little silly, and Holland ends by informing her defiantly that, with the prospect of a good market for brimstone, she, Holland, would make no scruple of even sending her ships to Hell, and supplying the Devil with it. America then takes a hand, and denounces Britain as a bloodthirsty bully, to which Britain replies as quickly as her choking rage will permit by denouncing America as a wicked--Whig-Presbyterian--serpent. To this America rejoins with the statement that she will not surrender her liberty and property but with her life, and some additional statements which cause Britain to exclaim: "You impudent b--h! Am not I your Mother Country? Is that not a sufficient Title to your Respect and Obedience?" At this point Saxony, for the first time breaks in:

"_Mother Country!_ Hah, hah, he! What Respect have
_you_ the front to claim as a Mother Country? You know
that _I_ am _your_ Mother Country, and yet you pay me
none. Nay, it is but the other day, that you hired
Ruffians to rob me on the Highway, and burn my House.
For shame! Hide your Face and hold your Tongue. If you
continue this Conduct, you will make yourself the
Contempt of Europe!"

This is too much for even the assurance of the dauntless termagant who, before the American war was over, was to be engaged in conflict at one time with every one of the other parties to the dialogue except Saxony.

"O Lord," she exclaims in despair, "where are my
friends?" The question does not remain long unanswered.

"_France, Spain, Holland, and Saxony, all together_.
Friends! Believe us, you have none, nor ever will have
any, 'till you mend your Manners. How can we, who are
your Neighbours, have any regard for you, or expect any
Equity from you, should your Power increase, when we
see how basely and unjustly you have us'd both _your
own Mother--and your own Children_?"

With such rollicking fun, did Franklin, beguile his Gibeonite tasks.

A letter of information to those who would remove to America, an essay on the _Elective Franchises enjoyed by the Small Boroughs in England_, the three essays on Smoky Chimneys, the New Stove, and Maritime Topics, _The Retort Courteous_, in which some pithy reasons were given why Americans were slow in paying their old debts to British merchants, the _Observations Relative to the Intentions of the Original Founders of the Academy in Philadelphia_, the _Address of the Pennsylvania Society for Promoting the Abolition of Slavery and the Relief of Free Negroes Unlawfully Held in Bondage_, the _Plan for Improving the Condition of the Free Blacks_, the essay on _The Internal State of America_ and the paper on _Good Whig Principles_ make up the bulk of the graver pamphlets and papers written by Franklin between the beginning of his mission to France and his death. Some, if not all, of them have already come in for our attention, and most of them invite no special comment. All, like everything that he wrote, even the _marginalia_ on the books that he read, have some kind of salt in them that keeps them sweet, assert itself as time will.

Other serious papers of Franklin, not inspired by political motives, belong to an earlier date, and, with the exception of those, to which we have more than barely referred in previous chapters of this book, call for a word of comment. Two, _The Hints for Those that would be Rich_ and the _Advice to a Young Tradesman_ are merely echoes of _Poor Richard's Almanac_ but are good examples of the teachings that make Franklin the most effective of all propagandists. "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." This is a typical sentence taken from the Hints. After reading such a discourse as the _Advice to a Young Tradesman_, it is easy enough to see why it was that pecuniary truisms took on new life when vitalized by the mind of Franklin. Money he tells the young tradesman is of the prolific, generating nature. "He that kills a breeding sow, destroys all her offspring to the thousandth generation. He that murders a crown, destroys all that it might have produced, even scores of pounds." The young novice is also told that the most trifling actions that affect a man's credit are to be regarded. "The sound of your hammer at five in the morning, or nine at night, heard by a creditor, makes him easy six months longer; but, if he sees you at a billiard-table, or hears your voice at a tavern, when you should be at work, he sends for his money the next day." The paper ends with this pointed sermon:

In short, the way to wealth, if you desire it, is as
plain as the way to market. It depends chiefly on two
words, _industry_ and _frugality_; that is, waste
neither _time_ nor _money_, but make the best use of
both. Without industry and frugality nothing will do,
and with them everything. He that gets all he can
honestly, and saves all he gets (necessary expenses
excepted) will certainly become _rich_, if that Being
who governs the world, to whom all should look for a
blessing on their honest endeavours, doth not, in his
wise providence, otherwise determine.

Scattered through the works of Franklin are various miscellaneous productions of no slight literary value. The _Parable against Persecution_ was an ancient conception, old, we are told by Jeremy Taylor in his _Liberty of Prophesying_, as the Jews' Books. Franklin never claimed more credit for it, as he stated in a letter to Vaughan, "than what related to the style, and the addition of the concluding threatening and promise." These qualifications, however, leave him quite a different measure of credit from that of an artist who merely touches up a portrait by another hand, as a perusal of the parable will satisfy any reader. The incident, upon which the story turns, is the reception by Abraham into his tent of a stranger who fails to bless God at meat. Abraham expels him from the tent with blows for not worshipping the most high God, Creator of Heaven and Earth; only to be rebuked by the Almighty in these impressive words: "Have I borne with him these hundred and ninety and eight years, and nourished him, and cloathed him, notwithstanding his rebellion against me; and couldst not thou, who art thyself a sinner, bear with him one night?"

Only less felicitous was Franklin's _Parable on Brotherly Love_. Simeon, Levi and Judah are successively denied by their brother Reuben the use of an axe which he had bought of the Ishmaelite merchants, and which he highly prized. Therefore, they buy axes themselves from the Ishmaelites, and, as luck will have it, while Reuben is hewing timber on the river bank, his axe slips into the water and is lost. Reuben then applies to each of his three brothers in turn for the use of their axes. Simeon reminds him of his selfishness, and flatly refuses. Levi reproaches him, but adds that he will be better than he, and will lend his axe to him. Reuben, however, is too ashamed to accept it. Judah, seeing the grief and shame in his countenance, anticipates the request and exclaims, "My brother, I know thy loss; but why should it trouble thee? Lo, have I not an axe that will serve both thee and me!" And then the lovely parable continues in these words:

And Reuben fell on his neck, and kissed him, with
tears, saying, "Thy kindness is great, but thy goodness
in forgiving me is greater. Thou art indeed my brother,
and whilst I live, will I surely love thee."

And Judah said, "Let us also love our other brethren:
behold, are we not all of one blood?" And Joseph saw
these things, and reported them to his father Jacob.

And Jacob said, "Reuben did wrong, but he repented.
Simeon also did wrong; and Levi was not altogether
blameless. But the heart of Judah is princely. Judah
hath the soul of a king. His father's children shall
bow down before him, and he shall rule over his
brethren."

The papers contributed by Franklin to the _Busy-Body_ and the _Pennsylvania Gazette_ clearly indicate the influence of Addison and Steele. The Ridentius and Eugenius of the second issue, Ridentius, the wight, who gave himself an hour's diversion on the cock of a man's hat, the heels of his shoes or on one of his unguarded expressions or personal defects, Eugenius who preferred to make himself a public jest rather than be at the pains of seeing his friend in confusion, pale phantoms though they be, are palpably imitations of the Spectator and Tatler. So are the Cato of the third issue of the _Busy-Body_, whose countenance revealed habits of virtue that made one forget his homespun linen and seven days' beard, and the Cretico of the same issue, the "sowre Philosopher" who commanded nothing better from his dependents than the submissive deportment, which was like the worship paid by the Indians to the Devil.

Unlike these characters, the Patience of the fourth issue of the _Busy-Body_ is a real creature of flesh and blood. She writes to the Busy-Body for advice, informing him that she is a single woman, and keeps a shop in the town for her livelihood, and has a certain neighbor, who is really agreeable company enough, and has for some time been an intimate of hers, but who, of late, has tried her out of all patience by her frequent and long visits. She cannot do a thing in the world but this friend must know all about it, and her friend has besides two children just big enough to run about and do petty mischief, who accompany their mother on her visits and put things in the shop out of sorts; so that the writer has all the trouble and pesterment of children without the pleasure--of calling them her own.

Pray, Sir [concludes the unhappy Patience], 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.

This letter is made the subject of some sensible comments by the _Busy-Body_ on the importance of remembering 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." Later the same caution was to be conveyed in Poor Richard's, "Fish and Visitors smell after three days." The paper ends with the approval by the _Busy-Body_ of the Turkish practice of admonishing guests that it is time for them to go, without actually asking them to do so, by having a chafing dish with the grateful incense of smoking aloes rising from it brought into the room and applied to their beards.

Even more lifelike than Patience are Anthony Afterwit, Celia Single, Mr. and Mrs. Careless and Alice Addertongue, the figures brought to our eye by the _Pennsylvania Gazette_. Indeed, Addison himself would have had no occasion to be ashamed of them, if they had been figments of his own fancy. In his letter to the editor of the _Gazette_, Anthony Afterwit told him that about the time that he first addressed his spouse her father let it be known that, if she married a man of his liking, he would give two hundred pounds with her on the day of marriage, and that he had made some fine plans, and had even, in some measure, neglected his business on the strength of this assurance, but that, when the old gentleman saw that the writer was pretty well engaged, he, without assigning any reason, grew very angry, forbade him the house and told his daughter that, if she married him, he would not give her a farthing. However (as the father foresaw), he stole a wedding, and took his wife to his house, where they were not in quite so poor a condition as the couple described in the Scotch song who had

"Neither Pot nor Pan,
But four bare Legs together,"

for he had a house tolerably furnished for an ordinary man. His wife, however, was strongly inclined to be a gentlewoman. His old-fashioned looking-glass was one day broke, "_No Mortal could tell which way_," she said, and was succeeded by a large fashionable one. This in turn led to another table more suitable to such a glass, and the new table to some very handsome chairs. Thus, by degrees, he found all his old furniture stored up in the garret and everything below altered for the better.

Then, on one pretext or another, came along a tea-table with all its appurtenances of china and silver, a maid, a clock, and a pacing mare, for which he paid twenty pounds. The result was that, receiving a very severe dun, which mentioned the next court, he began in earnest to project relief. His dear having gone over the river the preceding Monday to see a relation, and stay a fortnight, because she could not bear the heat of the town, he took his turn at alterations. He dismissed the maid, bag and baggage; he sold the pacing mare, and bought a good milch cow with three pounds of the money; he disposed of the tea-table, and put a spinning wheel in its place; he stuffed nine empty tea canisters with flax, and with some of the money, derived from the sale of the tea-furniture, he bought a set of knitting needles; "for to tell you a truth, which I would have go no farther," added honest Anthony, "_I begin to want stockings_." The stately clock he transformed into an hour glass, by which he had gained a good round sum, and one of the pieces of the old looking-glass, squared and framed, supplied the place of the old one. In short, the face of things was quite changed, and he had paid his debts and found money in his pocket. His good dame was expected home next Friday, and, if she could conform with his new scheme of living, they would be the happiest couple, perhaps, in the Province, and, by the blessings of God, might soon be in thriving circumstances. He had reserved the great glass for her, and he would allow her, when she came in, to be taken suddenly ill with the _headache_, the _stomachache_, the fainting fits, or whatever other disorder she might think more proper, and she might retire to bed as soon as she pleased, but, if he did not find her in perfect health, both of body and mind, the next morning, away would go the aforesaid great glass, with several other trinkets, to the _vendue_ that very day.

That the wife of Anthony did succumb to the situation, we know, for it was an unfortunate reference to her that caused Celia Single to write her letter to the editor of the _Gazette_. During the morning of the preceding Wednesday, she said, she happened to be in at Mrs. Careless', when the husband of that lady returned from market, and showed his wife some balls of thread which he had bought. "My Dear," says he, "I like mightily these Stockings, which I yesterday saw Neighbour Afterwit knitting for her Husband, of Thread of her own Spinning. I should be glad to have some such stockins myself: I understand that your Maid Mary is a very good Knitter, and seeing this Thread in Market, I have bought it, that the Girl may make a Pair or two for me." Then, according to Celia, there took place in her presence a dialogue between husband and wife so animated that, knowing as she did that a man and his wife are apt to quarrel more violently, when before strangers, than when by themselves, she got up and went out hastily. She was glad, however, to understand from Mary, who came to her of an errand in the evening, that the couple dined together pretty peaceably (the balls of thread, that had caused the difference, being thrown into the kitchen fire).

The story, beginning with the reply of Mrs. Careless to the offensive suggestion of Mr. Careless, is too good not to be reproduced in full.

Mrs. Careless was just then at the Glass, dressing her
Head, and turning about with the Pins in her Mouth,
"Lord, Child," says she, "are you crazy? What Time has
Mary to knit? Who must do the Work, I wonder, if you
set her to Knitting?" "Perhaps, my Dear," says he, "you
have a mind to knit 'em yourself; I remember, when I
courted you, I once heard you say, that you had learn'd
to knit of your Mother." "I knit Stockins for you!"
says she; "not I truly! There are poor Women enough in
Town, that can knit; if you please, you may employ
them." "Well, but my Dear," says he, "you know _a penny
sav'd is a penny got_, A pin a day is a groat a year,
every little makes a muckle, and there is neither Sin
nor Shame in Knitting a pair of Stockins; why should
you express such a mighty Aversion to it? As to _poor_
Women, you know we are not People of Quality, we have
no Income to maintain us but what arises from my
Labour and Industry: Methinks you should not be at all
displeas'd, if you have an Opportunity to get something
as well as myself."

"I wonder," says she, "how you can propose such a thing
to me; did not you always tell me you would maintain me
like a Gentlewoman? If I had married Captain ----, he
would have scorn'd even to mention Knitting of
Stockins." "Prithee," says he, (a little nettled,)
"what do you tell me of your Captains? If you could
have had him, I suppose you would, or perhaps you did
not very well like him. If I did promise to maintain
you like a Gentlewoman, I suppose 'tis time enough for
that, when you know how to behave like one; Meanwhile
'tis your Duty to help make me able. How long, d'ye
think, I can maintain you at your present Rate of
Living?" "Pray," says she, (somewhat fiercely, and
dashing the Puff into the Powder-box,) "don't use me
after this Manner, for I assure you I won't bear it.
This is the Fruit of your poison Newspapers; there
shall come no more here, I promise you." "Bless us,"
says he, "what an unaccountable thing is this? Must a
Tradesman's Daughter, and the Wife of a Tradesman,
necessarily and instantly be a Gentlewoman? You had no
Portion; I am forc'd to work for a Living; you are too
great to do the like; there's the Door, go and live
upon your Estate, if you can find it; in short, I don't
desire to be troubled w'ye."

And then it was that Celia Single gathered up her skirts and left.

The letter from Alice Addertongue to the editor of the _Gazette_ is exactly in the manner of the _School for Scandal_, written many years later. She is a young girl of about thirty-five, she says, and lives at present with her mother. Like the Emperor, who, if a day passed over his head, during which he had conferred no benefit on any man, was in the habit of saying, _Diem perdidi_, _I have lost a Day_, she would make use of the same expression, were it possible for a day to pass over her head, during which she had failed to scandalize someone; a misfortune, thanks be praised, that had not befallen her these dozen years.

My mother, good Woman, and I [the forked tongue plays
precisely as it might have done in the mouth of Lady
Sneerwell] have heretofore differ'd upon this Account.
She argu'd, that Scandal spoilt all good Conversation;
and I insisted, that without it there would be no such
Thing. Our Disputes once rose so high, that we parted
Tea-Tables, and I concluded to entertain my
Acquaintance in the Kitchin. The first Day of this
Separation we both drank Tea at the same Time, but she
with her Visitors in the Parlor. She would not hear of
the least Objection to anyone's Character, but began a
new sort of Discourse in some queer philosophical
Manner as this; "I am mightily pleas'd sometimes," says
she, "when I observe and consider, that the World is
not so bad as People out of humour imagine it to be.
There is something amiable, some good Quality or other,
in everybody. If we were only to speak of People that
are least respected, there is such a one is very
dutiful to her Father, and methinks has a fine Set of
Teeth; such a one is very respectful to her Husband;
such a one is very kind to her poor Neighbours, and
besides has a very handsome Shape; such a one is always
ready to serve a Friend, and in my opinion there is not
a Woman in Town that has a more agreable Air and Gait."
This fine kind of Talk, which lasted near half an Hour,
she concluded by saying, "I do not doubt but everyone
of you have made the like Observations, and I should be
glad to have the Conversation continu'd upon this
Subject." Just at that Juncture I peep'd in at the
Door, and never in my Life before saw such a Set of
simple vacant Countenances. They looked somehow neither
glad, nor sorry, nor angry, nor pleas'd, nor
indifferent, nor attentive; but (excuse the Simile)
like so many blue wooden images of Rie Doe. I in the
Kitchin had already begun a ridiculous Story of Mr.
----'s Intrigue with his Maid, and his Wife's Behaviour
upon the Discovery; at some Passages we laugh'd
heartily, and one of the gravest of Mama's Company,
without making any Answer to her Discourse, got up _to
go and see what the Girls were so merry about_: She was
follow'd by a Second, and shortly by a Third, till at
last the old Gentlewoman found herself quite alone,
and, being convinc'd that her Project was
impracticable, came herself and finish'd her Tea with
us; ever since which _Saul also has been among the
Prophets_, and our Disputes lie dormant.

It was in the _Pennsylvania Gazette_, too, that Franklin published his "Dialogue between Philocles and Horatio," in which Philocles twice meets Horatio in the fields, and, in accents full of persuasive blandishment, diverts his feet from the pursuit of sensual pleasure into paths of contentment and peace. In the first dialogue, the moralist takes as his thesis the proposition that self-denial is not only the most reasonable but the most pleasant thing in the world. In the second, he holds up to Horatio the constant and durable happiness, so unlike the chequered, fleeting pleasures of Sense, which springs from acts of humanity, friendship, generosity and benevolence. One maxim in the last dialogue is worth many of the sayings of Poor Richard: "The Foundation of all Virtue and Happiness is Thinking rightly."

Other papers from the hand of Franklin that appeared in the _Gazette_ were _A Witch Trial at Mount Holly_, _An Apology for Printers_, _A Meditation on a Quart Mugg_, _Shavers and Trimmers_, and _Exporting of Felons to the Colonies_.

In the "Witch Trial at Mount Holly," Franklin describes in a highly humorous manner the results of the ordeals to which a man and a woman, accused by a man and a woman of witchcraft, were subjected. One of these ordeals consisted in weighing the accused in scales against a Bible for the purpose of seeing whether it would prove too heavy for them.

Then [the facetious narrative relates] came out of the
House a grave, tall Man carrying the Holy Writ before
the supposed Wizard etc., (as solemely 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. 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 ordeal was followed by the Trial by Water. Both accused and accusers were stripped, except that the women were not deprived of their shifts, bound hand and foot and let down into the water by ropes from the side of a barge. The rest is thus told:

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.

In the "Apology for Printers," Franklin defends his guild with much point and good sense, in terms modern enough to be fully applicable to newspapers at the present time. It was inspired by the resentment which his advertisement relating to Sea Hens and Black Gowns excited, and, though written in a half-humorous style, states the difficulties of an editor, between his duty to publish everything, and the certainty of private resentment, if he does, with about as much felicity of presentation as they are ever likely to be stated. Among the various solid reasons, set forth in formal numerical sequence, that he gave, by way of mitigation, for publishing the advertisement, he mentioned these, too:

"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."

In answer to the accusation that printers sometimes printed vicious or silly things not worth reading, he charged the fact up to the vicious taste of the public itself. He had known, he said, a very numerous impression of Robin Hood's songs to go off in the Province at 2 s. per book in less than a twelvemonth, when a small quantity of David's Psalms (an excellent version) had lain upon his hands about twice that long.

* * * * *

In the "Meditation on a Quart Mugg" Franklin begins with the exclamation, "WRETCHED, miserable, and unhappy Mug!" and traces with mock sympathy all the misfortunes of its ignoble and squalid career from the time that it is first forced into the company of boisterous sots, who lay all their nonsense, noise, profane swearing, cursing and quarrelling on it, though it speaks not a word, until the inevitable hour when it is broken into pieces, and finds its way for the most part back to Mother Earth. The paper is only a trifle, but a trifle fashioned with no little skill to hit the fancy of an age that, as Franklin's "Drunkard's Vocabulary" (also published in the _Gazette_) shows, had innumerable cant terms for the condition for which the mug was held to such an unjust responsibility.

The paper on "Shavers and Trimmers" is not so happy and well sustained, but its classifications of the different species of persons, answering these descriptions, is not without humor. One sentence in it, when Franklin speaks of the species of Shavers and Trimmers, who "cover (what is called by an eminent Preacher) _their poor Dust_ in tinsel Cloaths and gaudy Plumes of Feathers," reads like a paragraph in the _Courant_. "A competent Share of religious Horror thrown into the Countenance," he says, "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 paper on the "Exporting of Felons to the Colonies" is marked by the grim, biting irony of Swift, but was no severer than the practice of setting British criminals at large in America deserved. Such tender parental concern, Franklin said, called aloud for due returns of gratitude and duty, and he suggested that these returns should assume the form of rattlesnakes, "Felons-convict from the Beginning of the World." In the spring of the year, when they first crept out of their holes, they were feeble, heavy, slow and easily taken, and, if a small bounty was allowed per head, some thousands might be collected annually, and transported to Britain. There he proposed that they should be carefully distributed in St. James' Park, in the Spring Gardens, and other pleasure resorts about London, and in the gardens of all the nobility and gentry throughout the nation, but particularly in the gardens of the Prime Ministers, the Lords of Trade and Members of Parliament; for to them they were most particularly obliged. Such a paper, it is needless to say, was better calculated for its purpose than a thousand appeals of the ordinary type would have been.

The speech of Polly Baker is one of the most famous of Franklin's _jeux d'esprit_. The introduction to it states that it was delivered when she was prosecuted for the fifth time for having a bastard child, and with such effect that the court decided not to punish her; indeed with such effect that one of her judges even married her the next day, and in time had fifteen children by her. The perfectly ingenuous manner in which the traverser refuses to admit that she has committed any offence whatever and insists that, in default of honorable suitors, she has but dutifully, though irregularly, complied with the first and great command of nature and nature's God--increase and multiply--is undoubtedly, coarse as it is, a stroke of art, but the performance is too gross for modern scruples.

More decorous reading is the fictitious discourse by a Spanish Jesuit on the "Meanes of disposing the Enemie to Peace," which Franklin, during his first mission to England, contributed to the _London Chronicle_ for the purpose of rousing the English people to a sense of the artifices, that were being employed by the French to build up a party in England for peace at any price. In the introduction to the discourse, it is stated that it was taken from a book containing a number of discourses, addressed by the Jesuit to the King of Spain in 1629, and that nothing was needed to render it _apropos_ to the existing situation of England except the substitution of France for Spain. The discourse points out in detail, with shrewd insight into all the selfish and timid impulses, by which a society is corrupted or enervated, when cunningly practised upon, the different classes in the country of the enemy that could be manipulated in one way or another until no sound but that of Peace, Peace, Peace would be heard from any quarter.

_The Craven Street Gazette_, written in mock court language, and replete with the subtle suggestions of household intimacy, is one of the most exquisite triumphs of Franklin's wit and fancy.

This morning [it begins], Queen Margaret, accompanied
by her first maid of honour, Miss Franklin, (Sally
Franklin) set out for Rochester. Immediately on their
departure, the whole street was in tears--from a heavy
shower of rain. It is whispered, that the new family
administration which took place on her Majesty's
departure, promises, like all other new
administrations, to govern much better than the old
one.

We hear, that the great person (so called from his
enormous size), of a certain family in a certain
street, is grievously affected at the late changes, and
could hardly be comforted this morning, though the new
ministry promised him a roasted shoulder of mutton and
potatoes for his dinner.

It is said, that the same great person intended to pay
his respects to another great personage this day, at
St. James's, it being coronation-day; hoping thereby a
little to amuse his grief; but was prevented by an
accident, Queen Margaret, or her maid of honour having
carried off the key of the drawers, so that the lady of
the bed-chamber could not come at a laced shirt for his
Highness. Great clamours were made on this occasion
against her Majesty.

And so the _Gazette_ goes on, gay and graceful as the play of sunshine on the surface of a dimpled sea, from incident to incident that took place during the absence of Queen Margaret (Mrs. Stevenson) and Miss Franklin, investing each with a ceremonious dignity and importance that never descend to buffoonery.

These are some of the occurrences chronicled as taking place on the first Sunday after the departure of the Queen. Walking up and down in his room we might observe was one of Franklin's ways of taking exercise.

Lord and Lady Hewson walked after dinner to Kensington,
to pay their duty to the Dowager, and Dr. Fatsides made
four hundred and sixty-nine turns in his dining-room,
as the exact distance of a visit to the lovely Lady
Barwell, whom he did not find at home; so there was no
struggle for and against a kiss, and he sat down to
dream in the easy-chair that he had it without any
trouble.

And these are some of the observations made under the date of the succeeding Tuesday.

It is remark'd, that the Skies have wept every Day in
Craven Street, the Absence of the Queen.

The Publick may be assured that this Morning a certain
_great_ Personage was asked very complaisantly by the
Mistress of the Household, if he would chuse to have
the Blade-Bone of Saturday's Mutton that had been kept
for his Dinner to-day _broil'd_ or _cold_. _He answer'd
gravely, If there is any Flesh on it, it may be
broil'd; if not, it may as well be cold._ Orders were
accordingly given for Broiling it. But when it came to
Table, there was indeed so very little Flesh, or rather
none, (Puss having din'd on it yesterday after
Nanny)[57] that if our new Administration had been as
good Oeconomists as they would be thought, the Expence
of Broiling might well have been saved to the Publick,
and carried to the Sinking Fund. It is assured the
_great_ Person bears all with infinite Patience. But
the Nation is astonish'd at the insolent Presumption,
that dares treat so much Mildness in so cruel a manner!

Under the same date is made the announcement that at six o'clock, that afternoon, news had come by the post that her Majesty arrived safely at Rochester on Saturday night. "The Bells," the _Gazette_ adds, "immediately rang--for Candles to illuminate the Parlour, the Court went into Cribbidge, and the Evening concluded with every other Demonstration of Joy." This is followed by a letter to the _Gazette_ from a person signing himself "Indignation," who says that he makes no doubt of the truth of the statement that a certain great person is half-starved on the blade-bone of a sheep by a set of the most careless, worthless, thoughtless, inconsiderate, corrupt, ignorant, blundering, foolish, crafty & knavish ministers that ever got into a house and pretended to govern a family and provide a dinner. "Alas for the poor old England of Craven Street!" this correspondent exclaims, "If they continue in Power another Week, the Nation will be ruined. Undone, totally undone, if I and my Friends are not appointed to succeed them."

This letter is accompanied by another signed, "A Hater of Scandal," which takes "Indignation" to task, and declares that the writer believes that, even if the Angel Gabriel would condescend to be their minister, and provide their dinners, he would scarcely escape newspaper defamation from a gang of hungry, ever-restless, discontented and malicious scribblers. It was a piece of justice, he declared, that the publisher of the _Gazette_ owed to their righteous administration to undeceive the public on this occasion by assuring them of the fact, which is that there was provided and actually smoking on the table under his royal nose at the same instant as the blade-bone as fine a piece of ribs of beef roasted as ever knife was put into, with potatoes, horse-radish, pickled walnuts &c. which his Highness might have eaten, if so he had pleased to do.

Along with the political intelligence and the letters the _Gazette_ also contains these notices and stock quotations:

MARRIAGES, none since our last--but Puss begins to go a
Courting.

DEATHS, In the back Closet and elsewhere, many poor
Mice.

STOCKS Biscuit--very low. Buckwheat & Indian Meal--both
sour. Tea, lowering daily--in the Canister. Wine, shut.

The _Petition of the Letter Z_ was a humorous offshoot of Franklin's Reformed Alphabet. In a formal complaint after the manner of a bill in chancery, to the worshipful Isaac Bickerstaff, Esquire, Censor-General, Z complains that his claims to respect are as good as those of the other letters of the Alphabet, but that he had not only been placed at its tail, when he had as much right as any of his companions to be at its head, but by the injustice of his enemies had been totally excluded from the word WISE and his place filled by a little hissing, crooked, serpentine, venomous letter, called S, though it must be evident to his worship and to all the world that W, I, S, E does not spell _Wize_ but _Wise_. The petition ends with the prayer that, in consideration of his long-suffering and patience, the petitioner may be placed at the head of the Alphabet, and that S may be turned out of the word _wise_, and the Petitioner employed instead of him.

Z did not make out his case, for at the foot of the petition is appended this order: "Mr. Bickerstaff, having examined the allegations of the above petition, judges and determines, that Z be admonished to be content with his station, forbear reflections upon his brother letters, and remember his own small usefulness, and the little occasion there is for him in the Republic of Letters, since S whom he so despises can so well serve instead of him."

Some of the liveliest of the lighter papers of Franklin were written during the course of his French Mission. His inimitable _Journey to the Elysian Fields_ and _Conte_ have already received our attention in an earlier chapter. Among the others was _The Sale of the Hessians_, _The Supplement to the Boston Independent Chronicle_, _The Ephemera_, _The Whistle_, his letter to the Abbe de la Roche, communicating to him the _petite chanson a boire_ that he had written forty years before, his letter to the Abbe Morellet on wine, the _Dialogue between him and the Gout_, _The Handsome and Deformed Leg_ and _The Economical Project_. If there was nothing else to support the claim of Franklin to the authorship of _The Sale of the Hessians_, the difficulty of abridging it would be one proof. Its humor is as trenchant as that of Frederick the Great in levying the same toll upon these hirelings, when passing through his dominions on their way to America, pursuant to the mercenary engagements between their German masters and George III., as that levied by him upon other cattle. The paper is thrown into the form of a letter from the Count De Schaumbergh to the Baron Hohendorf, commanding the Hessian troops in America. It begins as follows:

MONSIEUR DE BARON:--On my return from Naples, I
received at Rome your letter of the 27th December of
last year. I have learned with unspeakable pleasure the
courage our troops exhibited at Trenton, and you cannot
imagine my joy on being told that of the 1,950 Hessians
engaged in the fight, but 345 escaped. There were just
1,605 men killed, and I can not sufficiently commend
your prudence in sending an exact list of the dead to
my minister in London. This precaution was the more
necessary, as the report sent to the English Ministry
does not give but 1,455 dead. This would make 483,450
florins instead of 643,500 which I am entitled to
demand under our convention. You will comprehend the
prejudice which such an error would work in my
finances, and I do not doubt you will take the
necessary pains to prove that Lord North's list is
false and yours correct.

This is another paragraph:

I am about to send to you some new recruits. Don't
economize them. Remember glory before all things. Glory
is true wealth. There is nothing degrades the soldier
like the love of money. He must care only for honour
and reputation, but this reputation must be acquired in
the midst of dangers. A battle gained without costing
the conqueror any blood is an inglorious success, while
the conquered cover themselves with glory by perishing
with their arms in their hands. Do you remember that of
the 300 Lacedaemonians who defended the defile of
Thermopylae, not one returned? How happy should I be
could I say the same of my brave Hessians!

It is true that their King, Leonidas, perished with
them: but things have changed, and it is no longer the
custom for princes of the empire to go and fight in
America for a cause with which they have no concern.

The Baron is further commended for sending back to Europe that Dr. Crumerus who was so successful in curing dysentery, and is told that it is better that the Hessians should burst in their barracks than fly in a battle, and tarnish the glory of the Count's arms.

Besides [the Count continues], you know that they pay
me as killed for all who die from disease, and I don't
get a farthing for runaways. My trip to Italy, which
has cost me enormously, makes it desirable that there
should be a great mortality among them. You will
therefore promise promotion to all who expose
themselves; you will exhort them to seek glory in the
midst of dangers; you will say to Major Maundorff that
I am not at all content with his saving the 345 men who
escaped the massacre of Trenton. Through the whole
campaign he has not had ten men killed in consequence
of his orders. Finally, let it be your principal object
to prolong the war and avoid a decisive engagement on
either side, for I have made arrangements for a grand
Italian opera, and I do not wish to be obliged to give
it up. Meantime I pray God, my dear Baron de Hohendorf,
to have you in his holy and gracious keeping.