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PARIS 1776-1785
by Benjamin Franklin
_The Sale of the Hessians_
FROM THE COUNT DE SCHAUMBERGH TO THE BARON
HOHENDORF, COMMANDING THE HESSIAN TROOPS
IN AMERICA
Rome, February 18, 1777.
MONSIEUR LE 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 cannot 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.
The court of London objects that there were a hundred wounded
who ought not to be included in the list, nor paid for as dead; but I
trust you will not overlook my instructions to you on quitting
Cassel, and that you will not have tried by human succor to recall
the life of the unfortunates whose days could not be lengthened but
by the loss of a leg or an arm. That would be making them a
pernicious present, and I am sure they would rather die than live in
a condition no longer fit for my service. I do not mean by this that
you should assassinate them; we should be humane, my dear Baron, but
you may insinuate to the surgeons with entire propriety that a
crippled man is a reproach to their profession, and that there is no
wiser course than to let every one of them die when he ceases to be
fit to fight.
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 Thermopyl;ae, 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. And besides, to whom should they pay the thirty
guineas per man if I did not stay in Europe to receive them? Then,
it is necessary also that I be ready to send recruits to replace the
men you lose. For this purpose I must return to Hesse. It is true,
grown men are becoming scarce there, but I will send you boys.
Besides, the scarcer the commodity the higher the price. I am
assured that the women and little girls have begun to till our lands,
and they get on not badly. You did right to send back to Europe that
Dr. Crumerus who was so successful in curing dysentery. Don't bother
with a man who is subject to looseness of the bowels. That disease
makes bad soldiers. One coward will do more mischief in an
engagement than ten brave men will do good. Better that they burst
in their barracks than fly in a battle, and tarnish the glory of our
arms. Besides, 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.
_Model of a Letter of Recommendation_
Sir Paris April 2, 1777
The Bearer of this who is going to America, presses me to give
him a Letter of Recommendation, tho' I know nothing of him, not even
his Name. This may seem extraordinary, but I assure you it is not
uncommon here. Sometimes indeed one unknown Person brings me another
equally unknown, to recommend him; and sometimes they recommend one
another! As to this Gentleman, I must refer you to himself for his
Character and Merits, with which he is certainly better acquainted
than I can possibly be; I recommend him however to those Civilities
which every Stranger, of whom one knows no Harm, has a Right to, and
I request you will do him all the good Offices and show him all the
Favour that on further Acquaintance you shall find him to deserve. I
have the honour to be, &c.
_The Twelve Commandments_
TO MADAME BRILLON
Passy March 10.
I am charm'd with the goodness of my spiritual guide, and
resign myself implicitly to her Conduct, as she promises to lead me
to heaven in so delicious a Road when I could be content to travel
thither even in the roughest of all ways with the pleasure of her
Company.
How kindly partial to her Penitent in finding him, on examining
his conscience, guilty of only one capital sin and to call that by
the gentle name of Foible!
I lay fast hold of your promise to absolve me of all Sins past,
present, & future, on the easy & pleasing Condition of loving God,
America and my guide above all things. I am in Rapture when I think
of being absolv'd of the future.
People commonly speak of Ten Commandments. -- I have been
taught that there are twelve. The first was increase & multiply &
replenish the earth. The twelfth is, A new Commandment I give unto
you, _that you love one another._ It seems to me that they are a
little misplaced, And that the last should have been the first.
However I never made any difficulty about that, but was always
willing to obey them both whenever I had an opportunity. Pray tell
me my dear Casuist, whether my keeping religiously these two
commandments tho' not in the Decalogue, may not be accepted in
Compensation for my breaking so often one of the ten I mean that
which forbids Coveting my neighbour's wife, and which I confess I
break constantly God forgive me, as often as I see or think of my
lovely Confessor, and I am afraid I should never be able to repent of
the Sin even if I had the full Possession of her.
And now I am Consulting you upon a Case of Conscience I will
mention the Opinion of a certain Father of the church which I find
myself willing to adopt though I am not sure it is orthodox. It is
this, that the most effectual way to get rid of a certain Temptation
is, as often as it returns, to comply with and satisfy it.
Pray instruct me how far I may venture to practice upon this
Principle?
But why should I be so scrupulous when you have promised to
absolve me of the future?
Adieu my charming Conductress and believe me ever with the
sincerest Esteem & affection.
Your most obed't hum. Serv.
1778
_Petition of the Letter Z_
FROM THE TATLER N 1778
TO THE WORSHIPFUL ISAAC BICKERSTAFF, ESQ;
CENSOR-GENERAL
THE PETITION OF THE LETTER Z COMMONLY CALLED
EZZARD, ZED, or IZARD, MOST HUMBLY SHEWETH,
He was always talking of his Family and of his being a Man of
Fortune.
That your Petitioner is of as high extraction, and has as
good an Estate as any other Letter of the Alphabet.
And complaining of his being treated, not with due Respect
That there is therefore no reason why he should be treated as
he is with Disrespect and Indignity.
At the tail of the Commission, of Ministers
He was not of the Commission for France, A Lee being preferr'd
to him, which made him very angry; and the Character here given of S,
is just what he in his Passion gave Lee.
That he is not only plac'd at the Tail of the Alphabet, when he
had as much Right as any other to be at the Head; but is, by the
Injustice of his enemies totally excluded from the Word WISE, and his
Place injuriously filled by a little, hissing, crooked, serpentine,
venemous Letter called s, when it must be evident to your Worship,
and to all the World, that Double U, I, S. E do not spell or sound
_Wize_, but _Wice._
The most impatient Man alive
Your Petitioner therefore prays that the Alphabet may by your
Censorial Authority be reformed, and that in Consideration of his
_Long-Suffering_ & _Patience_ he may be placed at the Head of it;
that S may be turned out of the Word Wise, and the Petitioner
employ'd instead of him;
And your Petitioner (as in Duty bound) shall ever pray, &c.
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, &
remember his own small Usefulness, and the little Occasion there is
for him in the Republick of Letters, since S, whom he so despises,
can so well serve instead of him.
c. August, 1778
_The Ephemera_
Passy Sept 20, 1778
You may remember, my dear Friend, that when we lately spent
that happy Day in the delightful Garden and sweet Society of the
Moulin Joli, I stopt a little in one of our Walks, and staid some
time behind the Company. We had been shewn numberless Skeletons of a
kind of little Fly, called an Ephemere all whose successive
Generations we were told were bred and expired within the Day. I
happen'd to see a living Company of them on a Leaf, who appear'd to
be engag'd in Conversation. -- You know I understand all the inferior
Animal Tongues: my too great Application to the Study of them is the
best Excuse I can give for the little Progress I have made in your
charming Language. I listened thro' Curiosity to the Discourse of
these little Creatures, but as they in their national Vivacity spoke
three or four together, I could make but little of their Discourse.
I found, however, by some broken Expressions that I caught now &
then, they were disputing warmly the Merit of two foreign Musicians,
one a _Cousin_, the other a _Musketo_; in which Dispute they spent
their time seemingly as regardless of the Shortness of Life, as if
they had been Sure of living a Month. Happy People! thought I, you
live certainly under a wise, just and mild Government; since you have
no public Grievances to complain of, nor any Subject of Contention
but the Perfection or Imperfection of foreign Music. I turned from
them to an old greyheaded one, who was single on another Leaf, &
talking to himself. Being amus'd with his Soliloquy, I have put it
down in writing in hopes it will likewise amuse her to whom I am So
much indebted for the most pleasing of all Amusements, her delicious
Company and her heavenly Harmony.
"It was, says he, the Opinion of learned Philosophers of our
Race, who lived and flourished long before my time, that this vast
World, the _Moulin Joli_, could not itself subsist more than 18
Hours; and I think there was some Foundation for that Opinion, since
by the apparent Motion of the great Luminary that gives Life to all
Nature, and which in my time has evidently declin'd considerably
towards the Ocean at the End of our Earth, it must then finish its
Course, be extinguish'd in the Waters that surround us, and leave the
World in Cold and Darkness, necessarily producing universal Death and
Destruction. I have lived seven of these Hours; a great Age; being
no less than 420 minutes of Time. How very few of us continue So
long. -- I have seen Generations born, flourish and expire. My
present Friends are the Children and Grandchildren of the Friends of
my Youth, who are now, alas, no more! And I must soon follow them;
for by the Course of Nature, tho' still in Health, I cannot expect to
live above 7 or 8 Minutes longer. What now avails all my Toil and
Labour in amassing Honey-Dew on this Leaf, which I cannot live to
enjoy! What the political Struggles I have been engag'd in for the
Good of my Compatriotes, Inhabitants of this Bush, or my
philosophical Studies for the Benefit of our Race in general! For in
Politics _what can Laws do without Morals._ (note-Ephemera-1, see
page 924) Our present Race of Ephemeres will in a Course of Minutes,
become corrupt like those of other and older Bushes, and consequently
as wretched. And in Philosophy how small our Progress! Alas, _Art
is long and Life is short_! (note-Ephemera-2, see page 924) -- My
Friends would comfort me with the Idea of a Name they Say I shall
leave behind me; and they tell me I have _lived long enough, to
Nature and to Glory_; (note-Ephemera-3, see page 924) -- But what
will Fame be to an Ephemere who no longer exists? And what will
become of all History in the 18th Hour, when the World itself, even
the whole _Moulin Joli_ shall come to its End, and be buried in
universal Ruin? -- To me, after all my eager Pursuits, no solid
Pleasures now remain, but the Reflection of a long Life spent in
meaning well, the sensible Conversation of a few good Lady-Ephemeres,
and now and then a kind Smile and a Tune from the ever-amiable
BRILLANTE."
_The Elysian Fields_
M. FRANKLIN TO MADAME HELVETIUS
Vexed by your barbarous resolution, announced so positively
last evening, to remain single all your life in respect to your dear
husband, I went home, fell on my bed, and, believing myself dead,
found myself in the Elysian Fields.
I was asked if I desired to see anybody in particular. Lead me
to the home of the philosophers. -- There are two who live nearby in
the garden: they are very good neighbors, and close friends of each
other. -- Who are they? -- Socrates and H ------ . -- I esteem them
both prodigiously; but let me see first H ------ , because I
understand a little French, but not one word of Greek. He received
me with great courtesy, having known me for some time, he said, by
the reputation I had there. He asked me a thousand things about the
war, and about the present state of religion, liberty, and the
government in France. -- You ask nothing then of your dear friend
Madame H ------ ; nevertheless she still loves you excessively and I
was at her place but an hour ago. Ah! said he, you make me remember
my former felicity. -- But it is necessary to forget it in order to
be happy here. During several of the early years, I thought only of
her. Finally I am consoled. I have taken another wife. The most
like her that I could find. She is not, it is true, so completely
beautiful, but she has as much good sense, a little more of Spirit,
and she loves me infinitely. Her continual study is to please me;
and she has actually gone to hunt the best Nectar and the best
Ambrosia in order to regale me this evening; remain with me and you
will see her. I perceive, I said, that your old friend is more
faithful than you: for several good offers have been made her, all of
which she has refused. I confess to you that I myself have loved her
to the point of distraction; but she was hard-hearted to my regard,
and has absolutely rejected me for love of you. I pity you, he said,
for your bad fortune; for truly she is a good and beautiful woman and
very loveable. But the Abbee de la R ------ , and the Abbe M ------
, are they not still sometimes at her home? Yes, assuredly, for she
has not lost a single one of your friends. If you had won over the
Abbe M ------ (with coffee and cream) to speak for you, perhaps you
would have succeeded; for he is a subtle logician like Duns Scotus or
St. Thomas; he places his arguments in such good order that they
become nearly irresistible. Also, if the Abbe de la R ----- had been
bribed (by some beautiful edition of an old classic) to speak against
you, that would have been better: for I have always observed, that
when he advises something, she has a very strong penchant to do the
reverse. -- At these words the new Madame H ------ entered with the
Nectar: at which instant I recognized her to be Madame F ------ , my
old American friend. I reclaimed to her. But she told me coldly, "I
have been your good wife forty-nine years and four months, nearly a
half century; be content with that. Here I have formed a new
connection, which will endure to eternity."
Offended by this refusal of my Eurydice, I suddenly decided to
leave these ungrateful spirits, to return to the good earth, to see
again the sunshine and you. Here I am! Let us revenge ourselves.
December 7, 1778
_Bilked for Breakfast_
MR. FRANKLIN TO MADAME LA FRETE
Upon my word, you did well, Madam, not to come so far, at so
inclement a Season, only to find so wretched a Breakfast. My Son & I
were not so wise. I will tell you the Story.
As the Invitation was for eleven O'clock, & you were of the
Party, I imagined I should find a substantial Breakfast; that there
would be a large Company; that we should have not only Tea, but
Coffee, Chocolate, perhaps a Ham, & several other good Things. I
resolved to go on Foot; my Shoes were a little too tight; I arrived
almost lamed. On entering the Courtyard, I was a little surprised to
find it so empty of Carriages, & to see that we were the first to
arrive. We go up the Stairs. Not a Sound. We enter the Breakfast
Room. No one except the Abbe & Monsieur Cabanis. Breakfast over, &
eaten! Nothing on the Table except a few Scraps of Bread & a little
Butter. General astonishment; a Servant sent running to tell Madame
Helvetius that we have come for Breakfast. She leaves her toilet
Table; she enters with her Hair half dressed. It is declared
surprising that I have come, when you wrote me that you would not
come. I Deny it. To prove it, they show me your Letter, which they
have received and kept.
Finally another Breakfast is ordered. One Servant runs for
fresh Water, another for Coals. The Bellows are plied with a will.
I was very Hungry; it was so late; "a watched pot is slow to boil,"
as Poor Richard says. Madame sets out for Paris & leaves us. We
begin to eat. The Butter is soon finished. The Abbe asks if we want
more. Yes, of course. He rings. No one comes. We talk; he forgets
the Butter. I began scraping the Dish; at that he seizes it & runs
to the Kitchen for some. After a while he comes slowly back, saying
mournfully that there is no more of it in the House. To entertain me
the Abbe proposes a Walk; my feet refuse. And so we give up
Breakfast; & we go upstairs to his apartment to let his good Books
furnish the end of our Repast -- .
I am left utterly disconsolate, having, instead of half a Dozen
of your sweet, affectionate, substantial, & heartily applied Kisses,
which I expected from your Charity, having received only the Shadow
of one given by Madame Helvetius, willingly enough, it is true, but
the lightest & most superficial kiss that can possibly be imagined.
c. 1778
_Passport for Captain Cook_
To all Captains and Commanders of armed Ships acting by
Commission from the Congress of the United States of America, now in
war with Great Britain.
Gentlemen,
A Ship having been fitted out from England before the
Commencement of this War, to make Discoveries of new Countries in
Unknown Seas, under the Conduct of that most celebrated Navigator and
Discoverer Captain Cook; an Undertaking truly laudable in itself, as
the Increase of Geographical Knowledge facilitates the Communication
between distant Nations, in the Exchange of useful Products and
Manufactures, and the Extension of Arts, whereby the common
Enjoyments of human Life are multiply'd and augmented, and Science of
other kinds increased to the benefit of Mankind in general; this is,
therefore, most earnestly to recommend to every one of you, that, in
case the said Ship, which is now expected to be soon in the European
Seas on her Return, should happen to fall into your Hands, you would
not consider her as an Enemy, nor suffer any Plunder to be made of
the Effects contain'd in her, nor obstruct her immediate Return to
England, by detaining her or sending her into any other Part of
Europe or to America, but that you would treat the said Captain Cook
and his People with all Civility and Kindness, affording them, as
common Friends to Mankind, all the Assistance in your Power, which
they may happen to stand in need of. In so doing you will not only
gratify the Generosity of your own Dispositions, but there is no
doubt of your obtaining the Approbation of the Congress, and your
other American Owners. I have the honour to be, Gentlemen, your most
obedient humble Servant.
Given at Passy, near Paris, this 10th day of March, 1779.
_Plenipotentiary from the Congress of the
United States to the Court of France._
_The Morals of Chess_
[Playing at chess is the most ancient and most universal game
known among men; for its original is beyond the memory of history,
and it has, for numberless ages, been the amusement of all the
civilised nations of Asia, the Persians, the Indians, and the
Chinese. Europe has had it above a thousand years; the Spaniards
have spread it over their part of America; and it has lately begun to
make its appearance in the United States. It is so interesting in
itself, as not to need the view of gain to induce engaging in it; and
thence it is seldom played for money. Those therefore who have
leisure for such diversions, cannot find one that is more innocent:
and the following piece, written with a view to correct (among a few
young friends) some little improprieties in the practice of it, shows
at the same time that it may, in its effects on the mind, be not
merely innocent, but advantageous, to the vanquished as well as the
victor.]
The Game of Chess is not merely an idle Amusement. Several
very valuable qualities of the Mind, useful in the course of human
Life, are to be acquir'd or strengthened by it, so as to become
habits, ready on all occasions. For Life is a kind of Chess, in
which we often have Points to gain, & Competitors or Adversaries to
contend with; and in which there is a vast variety of good and ill
Events, that are in some degree the Effects of Prudence or the want
of it. By playing at Chess, then, we may learn,
I. _Foresight_, which looks a little into futurity, and
considers the Consequences that may attend an action; for it is
continually occurring to the Player, "If I move this piece, what will
be the advantages or disadvantages of my new situation? What Use can
my Adversary make of it to annoy me? What other moves can I make to
support it, and to defend myself from his attacks?"
II. _Circumspection_, which surveys the whole Chessboard, or
scene of action; the relations of the several pieces and situations,
the Dangers they are respectively exposed to, the several
possibilities of their aiding each other, the probabilities that the
Adversary may make this or that move, and attack this or the other
Piece, and what different Means can be used to avoid his stroke, or
turn its consequences against him.
III. _Caution_, not to make our moves too hastily. This habit
is best acquired, by observing strictly the laws of the Game; such
as, _If you touch a Piece, you must move it somewhere; if you set it
down, you must let it stand._ And it is therefore best that these
rules should be observed, as the Game becomes thereby more the image
of human Life, and particularly of War; in which, if you have
incautiously put yourself into a bad and dangerous position, you
cannot obtain your Enemy's Leave to withdraw your Troops, and place
them more securely, but you must abide all the consequences of your
rashness.
And _lastly_, we learn by Chess the habit of not being
discouraged by present appearances in the state of our affairs, the
habit of hoping for a favourable Change, and that of persevering in
the search of resources. The Game is so full of Events, there is
such a variety of turns in it, the Fortune of it is so subject to
sudden Vicissitudes, and one so frequently, after long contemplation,
discovers the means of extricating one's self from a supposed
insurmountable Difficulty, that one is encouraged to continue the
Contest to the last, in hopes of Victory from our own skill, or at
least of getting a stale mate, from the Negligence of our Adversary.
And whoever considers, what in Chess he often sees instances of, that
particular pieces of success are apt to produce Presumption, & its
consequent Inattention, by which more is afterwards lost than was
gain'd by the preceding Advantage, while misfortunes produce more
care and attention, by which the loss may be recovered, will learn
not to be too much discouraged by any present success of his
Adversary, nor to despair of final good fortune upon every little
Check he receives in the pursuit of it.
That we may therefore be induced more frequently to chuse this
beneficial amusement, in preference to others which are not attended
with the same advantages, every Circumstance that may increase the
pleasure of it should be regarded; and every action or word that is
unfair, disrespectful, or that in any way may give uneasiness, should
be avoided, as contrary to the immediate intention of both the
Players, which is to pass the Time agreably.
Therefore, first, if it is agreed to play according to the
strict rules, then those rules are to be exactly observed by both
parties, and should not be insisted on for one side, while deviated
from by the other -- for this is not equitable.
Secondly, if it is agreed not to observe the rules exactly, but
one party demands indulgencies, he should then be as willing to allow
them to the other.
Thirdly, no false move should ever be made to extricate
yourself out of difficulty, or to gain an advantage. There can be no
pleasure in playing with a person once detected in such unfair
practice.
Fourthly, if your adversary is long in playing, you ought not
to hurry him, or express any uneasiness at his delay. You should not
sing, nor whistle, nor look at your watch, nor take up a book to
read, nor make a tapping with your feet on the floor, or with your
fingers on the table, nor do any thing that may disturb his
attention. For all these things displease; and they do not show your
skill in playing, but your craftiness or your rudeness.
Fifthly, you ought not to endeavour to amuse and deceive your
adversary, by pretending to have made bad moves, and saying that you
have now lost the game, in order to make him secure and careless, and
inattentive to your schemes: for this is fraud and deceit, not skill
in the game.
Sixthly, you must not, when you have gained a victory, use any
triumphing or insulting expression, nor show too much pleasure; but
endeavour to console your adversary, and make him less dissatisfied
with himself, by every kind of civil expression that may be used with
truth, such as, "you understand the game better than I, but you are a
little inattentive;" or, "you play too fast;" or, "you had the best
of the game, but something happened to divert your thoughts, and that
turned it in my favour."
Seventhly, if you are a spectator while others play, observe
the most perfect silence. For, if you give advice, you offend both
parties, him against whom you give it, because it may cause the loss
of his game, him in whose favour you give it, because, though it be
good, and he follows it, he loses the pleasure he might have had, if
you had permitted him to think until it had occurred to himself.
Even after a move or moves, you must not, by replacing the pieces,
show how they might have been placed better; for that displeases, and
may occasion disputes and doubts about their true situation. All
talking to the players lessens or diverts their attention, and is
therefore unpleasing. Nor should you give the least hint to either
party, by any kind of noise or motion. If you do, you are unworthy
to be a spectator. If you have a mind to exercise or show your
judgment, do it in playing your own game, when you have an
opportunity, not in criticizing, or meddling with, or counselling the
play of others.
Lastly, if the game is not to be played rigorously, according
to the rules above mentioned, then moderate your desire of victory
over your adversary, and be pleased with one over yourself. Snatch
not eagerly at every advantage offered by his unskilfulness or
inattention; but point out to him kindly, that by such a move he
places or leaves a piece in danger and unsupported; that by another
he will put his king in a perilous situation, &c. By this generous
civility (so opposite to the unfairness above forbidden) you may,
indeed, happen to lose the game to your opponent; but you will win
what is better, his esteem, his respect, and his affection, together
with the silent approbation and good-will of impartial spectators.
June, 1779
_The Whistle_
_Passy, November_ 10 1779.
I received my dear Friend's two Letters, one for Wednesday &
one for Saturday. This is again Wednesday. I do not deserve one for
to day, because I have not answered the former. But indolent as I
am, and averse to Writing, the Fear of having no more of your
pleasing Epistles, if I do not contribute to the Correspondance,
obliges me to take up my Pen: And as M. B. has kindly sent me Word,
that he sets out to-morrow to see you; instead of spending this
Wednesday Evening as I have long done its Name-sakes, in your
delightful Company, I sit down to spend it in thinking of you, in
writing to you, & in reading over & over again your Letters.
I am charm'd with your Description of Paradise, & with your
Plan of living there. And I approve much of your Conclusion, that in
the mean time we should draw all the Good we can from this World. In
my Opinion we might all draw more Good, from it than we do, & suffer
less Evil, if we would but take care _not to give too much for our
Whistles._ For to me it seems that most of the unhappy People we meet
with, are become so by Neglect of that Caution.
You ask what I mean? -- You love Stories, and will excuse my
telling you one of my self. When I was a Child of seven Years old,
my Friends on a Holiday fill'd my little Pocket with Halfpence. I
went directly to a Shop where they sold Toys for Children; and being
charm'd with the Sound of a Whistle that I met by the way, in the
hands of another Boy, I voluntarily offer'd and gave all my Money for
it. When I came home, whistling all over the House, much pleas'd
with my Whistle, but disturbing all the Family, my Brothers, Sisters
& Cousins, understanding the Bargain I had made, told me I had given
four times as much for it as it was worth, put me in mind what good
Things I might have bought with the rest of the Money, & laught at me
so much for my Folly that I cry'd with Vexation; and the Reflection
gave me more Chagrin than the Whistle gave me Pleasure.
This however was afterwards of use to me, the Impression
continuing on my Mind; so that often when I was tempted to buy some
unnecessary thing, I said to my self, _Do not give too much for the
Whistle_; and I sav'd my Money.
As I grew up, came into the World, and observed the Actions of
Men, I thought I met many _who gave too much for the Whistle_. --
When I saw one ambitious of Court Favour, sacrificing his Time in
Attendance at Levees, his Repose, his Liberty, his Virtue and perhaps
his Friend, to obtain it; I have said to my self, _This Man gives too
much for his Whistle_. -- When I saw another fond of Popularity,
constantly employing himself in political Bustles, neglecting his own
Affairs, and ruining them by the Neglect, _He pays_, says I, _too
much for his Whistle_. -- If I knew a Miser, who gave up every kind
of comfortable Living, all the pleasure of doing Good to others, all
the Esteem of his Fellow Citizens, & the Joys of benevolent
Friendship, for the sake of Accumulating Wealth, _Poor Man_, says I,
_you pay too much for your Whistle_. -- When I met with a Man of
Pleasure, sacrificing every laudable Improvement of his Mind or of
his Fortune, to mere corporeal Satisfactions, & ruining his Health in
their Pursuit, _Mistaken Man_, says I, _you are providing Pain for
your self instead of Pleasure, you pay too much for your Whistle_. --
If I see one fond of Appearance, of fine Cloaths, fine Houses, fine
Furniture, fine Equipages, all above his Fortune, for which he
contracts Debts, and ends his Career in a Prison; _Alas_, says I, _he
has paid too much for his Whistle._ -- When I saw a beautiful
sweet-temper'd Girl, marry'd to an ill-natured Brute of a Husband;
_What a Pity_, says I, _that she should pay so much for a Whistle!_
-- In short, I conceiv'd that great Part of the Miseries of Mankind,
were brought upon them by the false Estimates they had made of the
Value of Things, and by their _giving too much for the Whistle._
Yet I ought to have Charity for these unhappy People, when I
consider that with all this Wisdom of which I am boasting, there are
certain things in the World so tempting; for Example the Apples of
King John, which happily are not to be bought, for if they were put
to sale by Auction, I might very easily be led to ruin my self in the
Purchase, and find that I had once more _given too much for the
Whistle._
Adieu, my dearest Friend, and believe me ever yours very
sincerely and with unalterable Affection.
Passy, 1779
_The Levee_
In the first chapter of Job we have an account of a transaction
said to have arisen in the court, or at the _levee_, of the best of
all possible princes, or of governments by a single person, viz. that
of God himself.
At this _levee_, in which the sons of God were assembled, Satan
also appeared.
It is probable the writer of that ancient book took his idea of
this _levee_ from those of the eastern monarchs of the age he lived
in.
It is to this day usual at the _levees_ of princes, to have
persons assembled who are enemies to each other, who seek to obtain
favor by whispering calumny and detraction, and thereby ruining those
that distinguish themselves by their virtue and merit. And kings
frequently ask a familiar question or two, of every one in the
circle, merely to show their benignity. These circumstances are
particularly exemplified in this relation.
If a modern king, for instance, finds a person in the circle
who has not lately been there, he naturally asks him how he has
passed his time since he last had the pleasure of seeing him? the
gentleman perhaps replies that he has been in the country to view his
estates, and visit some friends. Thus Satan being asked whence he
cometh? answers, "From going to and fro in the earth, and walking up
and down in it." And being further asked, whether he had considered
the uprightness and fidelity of the prince's servant Job, he
immediately displays all the malignance of the designing courtier, by
answering with another question: "Doth Job serve God for naught?
Hast thou not given him immense wealth, and protected him in the
possession of it? Deprive him of that, and he will curse thee to thy
face." In modern phrase, Take away his places and his pensions, and
your Majesty will soon find him in the opposition.
This whisper against Job had its effect. He was delivered into
the power of his adversary, who deprived him of his fortune,
destroyed his family, and completely ruined him.
The book of Job is called by divines a sacred poem, and, with
the rest of the Holy Scriptures, is understood to be written for our
instruction.
What then is the instruction to be gathered from this supposed
transaction?
Trust not a single person with the government of your state.
For if the Deity himself, being the monarch may for a time give way
to calumny, and suffer it to operate the destruction of the best of
subjects; what mischief may you not expect from such power in a mere
man, though the best of men, from whom the truth is often
industriously hidden, and to whom falsehood is often presented in its
place, by artful, interested, and malicious courtiers?
And be cautious in trusting him even with limited powers, lest
sooner or later he sap and destroy those limits, and render himself
absolute.
For by the disposal of places, he attaches to himself all the
with their numerous connexions, and also all the expecters and hopers
of places, which will form a strong party in promoting his views. By
various political engagements for the interest of neighbouring states
or princes, he procures their aid in establishing his own personal
power. So that, through the hopes of emolument in one part of his
subjects, and the fear of his resentment in the other, all opposition
falls before him.
1779?
_Proposed New Version of the Bible_
TO THE PRINTER OF * * *
SIR,
It is now more than one hundred and seventy years since the
translation of our common English Bible. The language in that time
is much changed, and the style, being obsolete, and thence less
agreeable, is perhaps one reason why the reading of that excellent
book is of late so much neglected. I have therefore thought it would
be well to procure a new version, in which, preserving the sense, the
turn of phrase and manner of expression should be modern. I do not
pretend to have the necessary abilities for such a work myself; I
throw out the hint for the consideration of the learned; and only
venture to send you a few verses of the first chapter of Job, which
may serve as a sample of the kind of version I would recommend.
A. B.
PART OF THE FIRST CHAPTER OF JOB MODERNIZED
OLD TEXT NEW VERSION
Verse 6. Now there was a day Verse 6. And it being _levee_
when the sons of God came to present day in heaven, all God's nobility
themselves before the Lord, and came to present themselves before
Satan came also amongst them. him; and Satan also appeared in
the circle, as one of the ministry.
7. And the Lord said unto 7. And God said to Satan,
Satan, Whence comest thou? Then You have been some time absent;
Satan answered the Lord, and said, where were you? And Satan answered
From going to and fro in the earth, I have been at my country-seat,
and from walking up and down in it. and in different places visiting
my friends.
8. And the Lord said unto 8. And God said, Well what
Satan, Hast thou considered my think you of Lord Job? You see he
servant Job, that there is none like is my best friend, a perfectly
him in the earth, a perfect and an honest man, full of respect for
upright man, one that feareth God, me, and avoiding every thing that
and escheweth evil? might offend me.
9. Then Satan answered the 9. And Satan answered, Does
Lord, and said, Doth Job fear God your Majesty imagine that his good
for naught? conduct is the effect of mere
personal attachment and affection?
10. Hast thou not made an 10. Have you not protected
hedge about his house, and about all him, and heaped your benefits upon
that he hath on every side? Thou hast him, till he is grown enormously
blessed the work of his hands, and rich?
his substance is increased in the land.
11. But put forth thine hand 11. Try him; -- only withdraw
now, and touch all that he hath, and your favor, turn him out of his
he will curse thee to thy face. places, and withhold his pensions,
and you will soon find him in the
opposition.
1779?
_Drinking Song_
TO THE ABBE DE LA ROCHE, AT AUTEUIL
I have run over, my dear friend, the little book of poetry by
M. Helvetius, with which you presented me. The poem on _Happiness_
pleased me much, and brought to my recollection a little drinking
song which I wrote forty years ago upon the same subject, and which
is nearly on the same plan, with many of the same thoughts, but very
concisely expressed. It is as follows: --
_Singer._
Fair Venus calls, her voice obey,
In beauty's arms spend night and day.
The joys of love, all joys excel,
And loving's certainly doing well.
_Chorus._
Oh! no!
Not so!
For honest souls know,
Friends and a bottle still bear the bell.
_Singer._
Then let us get money, like bees lay up honey;
We'll build us new hives, and store each cell.
The sight of our treasure shall yield us great pleasure;
We'll count it, and chink it, and jingle it well.
_Chorus._
Oh! no!
Not so!
For honest souls know,
Friends and a bottle still bear the bell.
_Singer._
If this does not fit ye, let's govern the city,
In power is pleasure no tongue can tell;
By crowds tho' you're teas'd, your pride shall be pleas'd,
And this can make Lucifer happy in hell!
_Chorus._
Oh! no!
Not so!
For honest souls know,
Friends and a bottle still bear the bell.
_Singer._
Then toss off your glasses, and scorn the dull asses,
Who, missing the kernel, still gnaw the shell;
What's love, rule, or riches? wise Solomon teaches,
They're vanity, vanity, vanity, still.
_Chorus._
That's true;
He knew;
He'd tried them all through;
Friends and a bottle still bore the bell.
'Tis a singer, my dear Abbe, who exhorts his companions to seek
_happiness_ in _love_, in _riches_, and in _power._ They reply,
singing together, that happiness is not to be found in any of these
things; that it is only to be found in _friends_ and _wine._ To this
proposition the singer at last assents. The phrase _"bear the
bell,"_ answers to the French expression, _"obtain the prize."_
I have often remarked, in reading the works of M. Helvetius,
that although we were born and educated in two countries so remote
from each other, we have often been inspired with the same thoughts;
and it is a reflection very flattering to me, that we have not only
loved the same studies, but, as far as we have mutually known them,
the same friends, and _the same woman._
Adieu! my dear friend, &c.
1779?
_A Tale_
There was once an Officer, a worthy man, named Montresor, who
was very ill. His parish Priest, thinking he would die, advised him
to make his Peace with God, so that he would be received into
Paradise. "I don't feel much Uneasiness on that Score," said
Montresor; "for last Night I had a Vision which set me entirely at
rest." "What Vision did you have?" asked the good Priest. "I was,"
he said, "at the Gate of Paradise with a Crowd of People who wanted
to enter. And St. Peter asked each of them what Religion he belonged
to. One answered, `I am a Roman Catholic.' `Very well,' said St.
Peter; `come in, & take your Place over there among the Catholics.'
Another said he belonged to the Anglican Church. `Very well,' said
St. Peter; `come in, & take your Place over there among the
Anglicans.' Another said he was a Quaker. `Very well,' said St.
Peter; `come in, & take a Place among the Quakers.' Finally he asked
me what my Religion was. `Alas!' I replied, `unfortunately, poor
Jacques Montresor belongs to none at all.' `That's a pity,' said the
Saint. `I don't know where to put you but come in anyway; just find
a Place for yourself wherever you can.'"
1779?
_On Wine_
FROM THE ABBE FRANKLIN TO THE ABBE MORELLET
You have often enlivened me, my dear friend, by your excellent
drinking-songs; in return, I beg to edify you by some Christian,
moral, and philosophical reflections upon the same subject.
_In vino veritas_, says the wise man, -- _Truth is in wine._
Before the days of Noah, then, men, having nothing but water to
drink, could not discover the truth. Thus they went astray, became
abominably wicked, and were justly exterminated by _water_, which
they loved to drink.
The good man Noah, seeing that through this pernicious beverage
all his contemporaries had perished, took it in aversion; and to
quench his thirst God created the vine, and revealed to him the means
of converting its fruit into wine. By means of this liquor he
discovered numberless important truths; so that ever since his time
the word to _divine_ has been in common use, signifying originally,
_to discover by means of_ WINE. (VIN) Thus the patriarch Joseph took
upon himself to _divine_ by means of a cup or glass of wine, a liquor
which obtained this name to show that it was not of human but
_divine_ invention (another proof of the _antiquity_ of the French
language, in opposition to M. Geebelin); nay, since that time, all
things of peculiar excellence, even the Deities themselves, have been
called _Divine_ or Di_vin_ities.
We hear of the conversion of water into wine at the marriage in
Cana as of a miracle. But this conversion is, through the goodness
of God, made every day before our eyes. Behold the rain which
descends from heaven upon our vineyards; there it enters the roots of
the vines, to be changed into wine; a constant proof that God loves
us, and loves to see us happy. The miracle in question was only
performed to hasten the operation, under circumstances of present
necessity, which required it.
It is true that God has also instructed man to reduce wine into
water. But into what sort of water? -- _Water of Life._ (_Eaude
Vie._) And this, that man may be able upon occasion to perform the
miracle of Cana, and convert common water into that excellent species
of wine which we call _punch._ My Christian brother, be kind and
benevolent like God, and do not spoil his good drink.
He made wine to gladden the heart of man; do not, therefore
when at table you see your neighbor pour wine into his glass, be
eager to mingle water with it. Why would you drown _truth_? It is
probable that your neighbor knows better than you what suits him.
Perhaps he does not like water; perhaps he would only put in a few
drops for fashion's sake; perhaps he does not wish any one to observe
how little he puts in his glass. Do not, then, offer water, except
to children; 't is a mistaken piece of politeness, and often very
inconvenient. I give you this hint as a man of the world; and I will
finish as I began, like a good Christian, in making a religious
observation of high importance, taken from the Holy Scriptures. I
mean that the apostle Paul counselled Timothy very seriously to put
wine into his water for the sake of his health; but that not one of
the apostles or holy fathers ever recommended _putting water to
wine._
P.S. To confirm still more your piety and gratitude to Divine
Providence, reflect upon the situation which it has given to the
_elbow._ You see (Figures 1 and 2) in animals, who are intended to
drink the waters that flow upon the earth, that if they have long
legs, they have also a long neck, so that they can get at their drink
without kneeling down. But man, who was destined to drink wine, must
be able to raise the glass to his mouth. If the elbow had been
placed nearer the hand (as in Figure 3), the part in advance would
have been too short to bring the glass up to the mouth; and if it had
been placed nearer the shoulder, (as in Figure 4) that part would
have been so long that it would have carried the wine far beyond the
mouth. But by the actual situation, (represented in Figure 5), we
are enabled to drink at our ease, the glass going exactly to the
mouth. Let us, then, with glass in hand, adore this benevolent
wisdom; -- let us adore and drink!
1779?
_Dialogue Between the Gout and Mr. Franklin_
MIDNIGHT, OCTOBER 22, 1780
MR. F.
Eh! oh! eh! What have I done to merit these cruel sufferings?
THE GOUT
Many things; you have ate and drank too freely, and too much
indulged those legs of yours in their indolence.
MR. F.
Who is it that accuses me?
THE GOUT
It is I, even I, the Gout.
MR. F.
What! my enemy in person?
THE GOUT
No, not your enemy.
MR. F.
I repeat it, my enemy; for you would not only torment my body
to death, but ruin my good name; you reproach me as a glutton and a
tippler; now all the world, that knows me, will allow that I am
neither the one nor the other.
THE GOUT
The world may think as it pleases; it is always very
complaisant to itself, and sometimes to its friends; but I very well
know that the quantity of meat and drink proper for a man who takes a
reasonable degree of exercise, would be too much for another who
never takes any.
MR. F.
I take -- eh! oh! -- as much exercise -- eh! -- as I can, Madam
Gout. You know my sedentary state, and on that account, it would
seem, Madam Gout, as if you might spare me a little, seeing it is not
altogether my own fault.
THE GOUT
Not a jot; your rhetoric and your politeness are thrown away;
your apology avails nothing. If your situation in life is a
sedentary one, your amusements, your recreation, at least, should be
active. You ought to walk or ride; or, if the weather prevents that,
play at billiards. But let us examine your course of life. While
the mornings are long, and you have leisure to go abroad, what do you
do? Why, instead of gaining an appetite for breakfast by salutary
exercise, you amuse yourself with books, pamphlets, or newspapers,
which commonly are not worth the reading. Yet you eat an inordinate
breakfast, four dishes of tea with cream, and one or two buttered
toasts, with slices of hung beef, which I fancy are not things the
most easily digested. Immediately afterwards you sit down to write
at your desk, or converse with persons who apply to you on business.
Thus the time passes till one, without any kind of bodily exercise.
But all this I could pardon, in regard, as you say, to your sedentary
condition. But what is your practice after dinner? Walking in the
beautiful gardens of those friends with whom you have dined would be
the choice of men of sense; yours is to be fixed down to chess, where
you are found engaged for two or three hours! This is your perpetual
recreation, which is the least eligible of any for a sedentary man,
because, instead of accelerating the motion of the fluids, the rigid
attention it requires helps to retard the circulation and obstruct
internal secretions. Wrapt in the speculations of this wretched
game, you destroy your constitution. What can be expected from such
a course of living but a body replete with stagnant humours, ready to
fall a prey to all kinds of dangerous maladies, if I, the Gout, did
not occasionally bring you relief by agitating those humours, and so
purifying or dissipating them? If it was in some nook or alley in
Paris, deprived of walks, that you played a while at chess after
dinner, this might be excusable; but the same taste prevails with you
in Passy, Auteuil, Montmartre, or Sanoy, places where there are the
finest gardens and walks, a pure air, beautiful women, and most
agreeable and instructive conversation: all which you might enjoy by
frequenting the walks. But these are rejected for this abominable
game of chess. Fie, then, Mr. Franklin! But amidst my instructions,
I had almost forgot to administer my wholesome corrections; so take
that twinge -- and that.
MR. F.
Oh! eh! oh! ohhh! As much instruction as you please, Madam
Gout, and as many reproaches; but pray, Madam, a truce with your
corrections!
THE GOUT
No, Sir, no, I will not abate a particle of what is so much for
your good -- therefore ------
Mr. F.
Oh! ehhh! -- It is not fair to say I take no exercise, when I
do very often, going out to dine and returning in my carriage.
THE GOUT
That, of all imaginable exercises, is the most slight and
insignificant, if you allude to the motion of a carriage suspended on
springs. By observing the degree of heat obtained by different kinds
of motion, we may form an estimate of the quantity of exercise given
by each. Thus, for example, if you turn out to walk in winter with
cold feet, in an hour's time you will be in a glow all over; ride on
horseback, the same effect will scarcely be perceived by four hours'
round trotting; but if you loll in a carriage, such as you have
mentioned, you may travel all day and gladly enter the last inn to
warm your feet by a fire. Flatter yourself then no longer that half
an hour's airing in your carriage deserves the name of exercise.
Providence has appointed few to roll in carriages, while he has given
to all a pair of legs, which are machines infinitely more commodious
and serviceable. Be grateful, then, and make a proper use of yours.
Would you know how they forward the circulation of your fluids in the
very action of transporting you from place to place, observe when you
walk that all your weight is alternately thrown from one leg to the
other; this occasions a great pressure on the vessels of the foot,
and repels their contents; when relieved, by the weight being thrown
on the other foot, the vessels of the first are allowed to replenish,
and by a return of this weight, this repulsion again succeeds; thus
accelerating the circulation of the blood. The heat produced in any
given time depends on the degree of this acceleration; the fluids are
shaken, the humours attenuated, the secretions facilitated, and all
goes well; the cheeks are ruddy, and health is established. Behold
your fair friend at Auteuil; a lady who received from bounteous
nature more really useful science than half a dozen such pretenders
to philosophy as you have been able to extract from all your books.
When she honours you with a visit, it is on foot. She walks all
hours of the day, and leaves indolence, and its concomitant maladies,
to be endured by her horses. In this, see at once the preservative
of her health and personal charms. But when you go to Auteuil, you
must have your carriage, though it is no farther from Passy to
Auteuil than from Auteuil to Passy.
Mr. F.
Your reasonings grow very tiresome.
THE GOUT
I stand corrected. I will be silent and continue my office;
take that, and that.
MR. F.
Oh! Ohh! Talk on, I pray you.
THE GOUT
No, no; I have a good number of twinges for you tonight, and
you may be sure of some more tomorrow.
MR. F.
What, with such a fever! I shall go distracted. Oh! eh! Can
no one bear it for me?
THE GOUT
Ask that of your horses; they have served you faithfully.
MR. F.
How can you so cruelly sport with my torments?
THE GOUT
Sport! I am very serious. I have here a list of offences
against your own health distinctly written, and can justify every
stroke inflicted on you.
MR. F.
Read it then.
THE GOUT
It is too long a detail; but I will briefly mention some
particulars.
MR. F.
Proceed. I am all attention.
THE GOUT
Do you remember how often you have promised yourself, the
following morning, a walk in the grove of Boulogne, in the garden de
La Muette, or in your own garden, and have violated your promise,
alleging, at one time, it was too cold, at another too warm, too
windy, too moist, or what else you pleased; when in truth it was too
nothing but your insuperable love of ease?
MR. F.
That I confess may have happened occasionally, probably ten
times in a year.
THE GOUT
Your confession is very far short of the truth; the gross
amount is one hundred and ninety-nine times.
MR. F.
Is it possible?
THE GOUT
So possible that it is fact; you may rely on the accuracy of my
statement. You know M. Brillon's gardens, and what fine walks they
contain; you know the handsome flight of an hundred steps which lead
from the terrace above to the lawn below. You have been in the
practice of visiting this amiable family twice a week, after dinner,
and it is a maxim of your own, that "a man may take as much exercise
in walking a mile up and down stairs, as in ten on level ground."
What an opportunity was here for you to have had exercise in both
these ways! Did you embrace it, and how often?
MR. F.
I cannot immediately answer that question.
THE GOUT
I will do it for you; not once.
MR. F.
Not once?
THE GOUT
Even so. During the summer you went there at six o'clock. You
found the charming lady, with her lovely children and friends, eager
to walk with you, and entertain you with their agreeable
conversation; and what has been your choice? Why, to sit on the
terrace, satisfying yourself with the fine prospect, and passing your
eye over the beauties of the garden below, without taking one step to
descend and walk about in them. On the contrary, you call for tea
and the chess-board; and lo! you are occupied in your seat till nine
o'clock, and that besides two hours' play after dinner; and then,
instead of walking home, which would have bestirred you a little, you
step into your carriage. How absurd to suppose that all this
carelessness can be reconcilable with health, without my
interposition!
MR. F.
I am convinced now of the justness of Poor Richard's remark,
that "Our debts and our sins are always greater than we think for."
THE GOUT
So it is. You philosophers are sages in your maxims, and fools
in your conduct.
MR. F.
But do you charge among my crimes that I return in a carriage
from M. Brillon's?
THE GOUT
Certainly; for having been seated all the while, you cannot
object the fatigue of the day, and cannot want therefore the relief
of a carriage.
MR. F.
What then would you have me do with my carriage?
THE GOUT
Burn it if you choose; you would at least get heat out of it
once in this way; or if you dislike that proposal, here's another for
you; observe the poor peasants who work in the vineyards and grounds
about the villages of Passy, Auteuil, Chaillot, etc.; you may find
every day among these deserving creatures four or five old men and
women, bent and perhaps crippled by weight of years, and too long and
too great labour. After a most fatiguing day these people have to
trudge a mile or two to their smoky huts. Order your coachman to set
them down. This is an act that will be good for your soul; and, at
the same time, after your visit to the Brillons, if you return on
foot, that will be good for your body.
MR. F.
Ah! how tiresome you are!
THE GOUT
Well, then, to my office; it should not be forgotten that I am
your physician. There.
MR. F.
Ohhh! what a devil of a physician!
THE GOUT
How ungrateful you are to say so! Is it not I who, in the
character of your physician, have saved you from the palsy, dropsy,
and apoplexy? One or other of which would have done for you long ago
but for me.
MR. F.
I submit, and thank you for the past, but entreat the
discontinuance of your visits for the future; for in my mind, one had
better die than be cured so dolefully. Permit me just to hint that I
have also not been unfriendly to _you._ I never feed physician or
quack of any kind, to enter the list against you; if then you do not
leave me to my repose, it may be said you are ungrateful too.
THE GOUT
I can scarcely acknowledge that as any objection. As to
quacks, I despise them; they may kill you indeed, but cannot injure
me. And as to regular physicians, they are at last convinced that
the gout, in such a subject as you are, is no disease, but a remedy;
and wherefore cure a remedy? -- but to our business -- there.
MR. F.
Oh! oh! -- for Heaven's sake leave me! and I promise faithfully
never more to play at chess, but to take exercise daily, and live
temperately.
THE GOUT
I know you too well. You promise fair; but, after a few months
of good health, you will return to your old habits; your fine
promises will be forgotten like the forms of the last year's clouds.
Let us then finish the account, and I will go. But I leave you with
an assurance of visiting you again at a proper time and place; for my
object is your good, and you are sensible now that I am your _real
friend._
_The Handsome and the Deformed Leg_
There are two Sorts of People in the World, who with equal
Degrees of Health & Wealth and the other Comforts of Life, become,
the one happy, the other unhappy. This arises very much from the
different Views in which they consider Things, Persons, and Events;
and the Effect of those different Views upon their own Minds.
In whatever Situation Men can be plac'd, they may find
Conveniencies and Inconveniencies: In whatever Company, they may find
Persons & Conversations more or less pleasing: At whatever Table they
may meet with Meats and Drinks of better and worse Taste, Dishes
better and worse dress'd: In whatever Climate they will find good and
bad Weather: Under whatever Government, they may find good and bad
Laws, and good and bad Administration of those Laws: In every Poem or
Work of Genius, they may see Faults and Beauties: In almost every
Face & every Person, they may discover fine Features and Defects,
good & bad Qualities. Under these Circumstances, the two Sorts of
People above-mention'd fix their Attention, those who are to be
happy, on the Conveniencies of Things, the pleasant Parts of
Conversation, the well-dress'd & well-tasted Dishes, the Goodness of
the Wines, the Fine Weather, &c. &c. &c. and enjoy all with
Chearfulness: Those who are to be unhappy think and speak only of the
contraries. Hence they are continually discontented themselves, and
by their Remarks sour the Pleasures of Society, offend personally
many People, and make themselves every where disagreable.
If this Turn of Mind was founded in Nature, such unhappy
Persons would be the more to be pitied. But as the Disposition to
criticise and be disgusted is perhaps taken up originally by
Imitation, and unawares grown into a Habit, which tho at present
strong, may nevertheless be cured, when those who have it are
convinc'd of its bad Effects on their Felicity, I hope this little
Admonition may be of Service to them, and put them on changing a
Habit, which tho in the Exercise is chiefly an Act of Imagination,
yet it has serious Consequences in Life, as it brings on real Griefs
and Misfortunes: For, as many are offended by, and nobody well loves
this sort of People, no one shows them more than the most common
Civility & Respect, and scarcely that; and this frequently puts them
out of humour, and draws them into Disputes and Contentions. If they
aim at obtaining some Advantage in Rank or Fortune, nobody wishes
them Success, or will stir a Step, or speak a Word to favour their
Pretensions. If they incur public Censure or Disgrace, no one will
defend or excuse, and many join to aggravate their Misconduct, and
render them compleatly odious. --
If these People will not change this bad Habit, and condescend
to be pleas'd with what is pleasing, without fretting themselves and
others about the Contraries, it is good for others to avoid an
Acquaintance with them, which is always disagreable, and sometimes
very inconvenient, particularly when one finds one's self entangled
in their Quarrels. An old philosophical Friend of mine was grown
from Experience very cautious in this particular and carefully shun'd
any intimacy with such People. He had, like other Philosophers, a
Thermometer to show him the Heat of the Weather, & a Barometer to
mark when it was likely to prove good or bad; but there being no
Instrument yet invented to discover at first Sight this unpleasing
Disposition in a Person, he for that purpose made use of his Legs;
one of which was remarkably handsome, the other by some Accident
crooked and deform'd. If a Stranger, at the first Interview,
regarded his ugly Leg more than his handsome one, he doubted him. If
he spoke of it, and took no Notice of the handsome Leg, that was
sufficient to determine my Philosopher to have no farther
Acquaintance with him.
Everybody has not this two-legged Instrument, but everyone with
a little Attention may observe Signs of that carping fault-finding
Disposition; and take the same Resolution of avoiding the
Acquaintance of those infected with it.
I therefore advise these critical, querulous, discontented
unhappy People, that if they wish to be loved & respected by others
and happy in themselves, they should _leave off looking at the ugly
Leg._
November, 1780
_To the Royal Academy of_ * * * * *
GENTLEMEN,
I have perused your late mathematical Prize Question, proposed
in lieu of one in Natural Philosophy, for the ensuing year, viz.
_"Une figure quelconque donnee, on demande d'y inscrire le plus grand
nombre de fois possible une autre figure plus-petite quelconque, qui
est aussi donnee"._ I was glad to find by these following Words,
_"l'Acadeemie a jugee que cette deecouverte, en eetendant les bornes
de nos connoissances, ne seroit pas sans UTILITE"_, that you esteem
_Utility_ an essential Point in your Enquiries, which has not always
been the case with all Academies; and I conclude therefore that you
have given this Question instead of a philosophical, or as the
Learned express it, a physical one, because you could not at the time
think of a physical one that promis'd greater _Utility._
Permit me then humbly to propose one of that sort for your
consideration, and through you, if you approve it, for the serious
Enquiry of learned Physicians, Chemists, &c. of this enlightened Age.
It is universally well known, That in digesting our common
Food, there is created or produced in the Bowels of human Creatures,
a great Quantity of Wind.
That the permitting this Air to escape and mix with the
Atmosphere, is usually offensive to the Company, from the fetid Smell
that accompanies it.
That all well-bred People therefore, to avoid giving such
Offence, forcibly restrain the Efforts of Nature to discharge that
Wind.
That so retain'd contrary to Nature, it not only gives
frequently great present Pain, but occasions future Diseases, such as
habitual Cholics, Ruptures, Tympanies, &c. often destructive of the
Constitution, & sometimes of Life itself.
Were it not for the odiously offensive Smell accompanying such
Escapes, polite People would probably be under no more Restraint in
discharging such Wind in Company, than they are in spitting, or in
blowing their Noses.
My Prize Question therefore should be, _To discover some Drug
wholesome & not disagreable, to be mix'd with our common Food, or
Sauces, that shall render the natural Discharges of Wind from our
Bodies, not only inoffensive, but agreable as Perfumes._
That this is not a chimerical Project, and altogether
impossible, may appear from these Considerations. That we already
have some Knowledge of Means capable of _Varying_ that Smell. He
that dines on stale Flesh, especially with much Addition of Onions,
shall be able to afford a Stink that no Company can tolerate; while
he that has lived for some Time on Vegetables only, shall have that
Breath so pure as to be insensible to the most delicate Noses; and if
he can manage so as to avoid the Report, he may any where give Vent
to his Griefs, unnoticed. But as there are many to whom an entire
Vegetable Diet would be inconvenient, and as a little Quick-Lime
thrown into a Jakes will correct the amazing Quantity of fetid Air
arising from the vast Mass of putrid Matter contain'd in such Places,
and render it rather pleasing to the Smell, who knows but that a
little Powder of Lime (or some other thing equivalent) taken in our
Food, or perhaps a Glass of Limewater drank at Dinner, may have the
same Effect on the Air produc'd in and issuing from our Bowels? This
is worth the Experiment. Certain it is also that we have the Power
of changing by slight Means the Smell of another Discharge, that of
our Water. A few Stems of Asparagus eaten, shall give our Urine a
disagreable Odour; and a Pill of Turpentine no bigger than a Pea,
shall bestow on it the pleasing Smell of Violets. And why should it
be thought more impossible in Nature, to find Means of making a
Perfume of our _Wind_ than of our _Water_?
For the Encouragement of this Enquiry, (from the immortal
Honour to be reasonably expected by the Inventor) let it be
considered of how small Importance to Mankind, or to how small a Part
of Mankind have been useful those Discoveries in Science that have
heretofore made Philosophers famous. Are there twenty Men in Europe
at this Day, the happier, or even the easier, for any Knowledge they
have pick'd out of Aristotle? What Comfort can the Vortices of
Descartes give to a Man who has Whirlwinds in his Bowels! The
Knowledge of Newton's mutual _Attraction_ of the Particles of Matter,
can it afford Ease to him who is rack'd by their mutual _Repulsion_,
and the cruel Distensions it occasions? The Pleasure arising to a
few Philosophers, from seeing, a few Times in their Life, the Threads
of Light untwisted, and separated by the Newtonian Prism into seven
Colours, can it be compared with the Ease and Comfort every Man
living might feel seven times a Day, by discharging freely the Wind
from his Bowels? Especially if it be converted into a Perfume: For
the Pleasures of one Sense being little inferior to those of another,
instead of pleasing the _Sight_ he might delight the _Smell_ of those
about him, & make Numbers happy, which to a benevolent Mind must
afford infinite Satisfaction. The generous Soul, who now endeavours
to find out whether the Friends he entertains like best Claret or
Burgundy, Champagne or Madeira, would then enquire also whether they
chose Musk or Lilly, Rose or Bergamot, and provide accordingly. And
surely such a Liberty of _Expressing_ one's _Scentiments_, and
_pleasing one another_, is of infinitely more Importance to human
Happiness than that Liberty of the _Press_, or of _abusing one
another_, which the English are so ready to fight & die for. -- In
short, this Invention, if compleated, would be, as _Bacon_ expresses
it, _bringing Philosophy home to Mens Business and Bosoms._ And I
cannot but conclude, that in Comparison therewith, for _universal_
and _continual UTILITY_, the Science of the Philosophers
above-mentioned, even with the Addition, Gentlemen, of your _"Figure
quelconque"_ and the Figures inscrib'd in it, are, all together,
scarcely worth a
FART-HING.
Passy, c. 1781
_Notes for Conversation_
To make a Peace durable, what may give Occasion for future Wars
should if practicable be removed.
The Territory of the United States and that of Canada, by long
extended Frontiers, touch each other.
The Settlers on the Frontiers of the American Provinces are
generally the most disorderly of the People, who, being far removed
from the Eye and Controll of their respective Governments, are more
bold in committing Offences against Neighbours, and are for ever
occasioning Complaints and furnishing Matter for fresh Differences
between their States.
By the late Debates in Parliament, and publick Writings, it
appears, that Britain desires a _Reconciliation_ with the Americans.
It is a sweet Word. It means much more than a mere Peace, and what
is heartily to be wish'd for. Nations make a Peace whenever they are
both weary of making War. But, if one of them has made War upon the
other unjustly, and has wantonly and unnecessarily done it great
Injuries, and refuses Reparation, though there may, for the present,
be Peace, the Resentment of those Injuries will remain, and will
break out again in Vengeance when Occasions offer. These Occasions
will be watch'd for by one side, fear'd by the other, and the Peace
will never be secure; nor can any Cordiality subsist between them.
Many Houses and Villages have been burnt in America by the
English and their Allies, the Indians. I do not know that the
Americans will insist on reparation; perhaps they may. But would it
not be better for England to offer it? Nothing could have a greater
Tendency to conciliate, and much of the future Commerce and returning
Intercourse between the two Countries may depend on the
Reconciliation. Would not the advantage of Reconciliation by such
means be greater than the Expence?
If then a Way can be proposed, which may tend to efface the
Memory of Injuries, at the same time that it takes away the Occasions
of fresh Quarrel and Mischief, will it not be worth considering,
especially if it can be done, not only without Expence, but be a
means of saving?
Britain possesses Canada. Her chief Advantage from that
Possession consists in the Trade for Peltry. Her Expences in
governing and defending that Settlement must be considerable. It
might be humiliating to her to give it up on the Demand of America.
Perhaps America will not demand it; some of her political Rulers may
consider the fear of such a Neighbour, as a means of keeping 13
States more united among themselves, and more attentive to Military
Discipline. But on the Minds of the People in general would it not
have an excellent Effect, if Britain should voluntarily offer to give
up this Province; tho' on these Conditions, that she shall in all
times coming have and enjoy the Right of Free Trade thither,
unincumbred with any Duties whatsoever; that so much of the vacant
Lands there shall be sold, as will raise a Sum sufficient to pay for
the Houses burnt by the British Troops and their Indians; and also to
indemnify the Royalists for the Confiscation of their Estates?
This is mere Conversation matter between Mr. O. and Mr. F., as
the former is not impower'd to make Propositions, and the latter
cannot make any without the Concurrence of his Colleagues.
April 18, 1782
Numb. 705.
_Supplement to the Boston
Independent Chronicle_
BOSTON, March 12.
_Extract of a Letter from Capt._ Gerrish, _of the_ New-England
_Militia,_ _dated_ Albany, March 7.
------ The Peltry taken in the Expedition [_See the Account of
the Expedition to_ Oswegatchie _on the River St._ Laurence, _in our
Paper of the_ 1_st Instant._] will as you see amount to a good deal
of Money. The Possession of this Booty at first gave us Pleasure;
but we were struck with Horror to find among the Packages, 8 large
ones containing SCALPS of our unhappy Country-folks, taken in the
three last Years by the Senneka Indians from the Inhabitants of the
Frontiers of New-York, New-Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Virginia, and
sent by them as a Present to Col. Haldimand, Governor of Canada, in
order to be by him transmitted to England. They were accompanied by
the following curious Letter to that Gentleman.
_May it please your Excellency, _Teoga, Jan._ 3_d,_ 1782.
"At the Request of the Senneka Chiefs I send herewith to
your Excellency, under the Care of James Boyd, eight Packs of Scalps,
cured, dried, hooped and painted, with all the Indian triumphal
Marks, of which the following is Invoice and Explanation.
No. 1.
Containing 43 Scalps of Congress Soldiers killed in different
Skirmishes; these are stretched on black Hoops, 4 Inches diameter;
the inside of the Skin painted red, with a small black Spot to note
their being killed with Bullets. Also 62 of Farmers, killed in their
Houses; the Hoops red; the Skin painted brown, and marked with a Hoe;
a black Circle all round, to denote their being surprised in the
Night; and a black Hatchet in the Middle, signifying their being
killed with that Weapon.
No. 2.
Containing 98 of Farmers killed in their Houses; Hoops red;
Figure of a Hoe, to mark their Profession; great white Circle and
Sun, to shew they were surprised in the Day-time; a little red Foot,
to shew they stood upon their Defence, and died fighting for their
Lives and Families.
No. 3.
Containing 97 of Farmers; Hoops green, to shew they were killed
in their Fields; a large white Circle with a little round Mark on it
for the Sun, to shew that it was in the Day-time; black Bullet-mark
on some, Hatchet on others.
No. 4.
Containing 102 of Farmers, mixed of the several Marks above;
only 18 marked with a little yellow Flame, to denote their being of
Prisoners burnt alive, after being scalped, their Nails pulled out by
the Roots, and other Torments: one of these latter supposed to be of
a rebel Clergyman, his Band being fixed to the Hoop of his Scalp.
Most of the Farmers appear by the Hair to have been young or
middle-aged Men; there being but 67 very grey Heads among them all;
which makes the Service more essential.
No. 5.
Containing 88 Scalps of Women; Hair long, braided in the Indian
Fashion, to shew they were Mothers; Hoops blue; Skin yellow Ground,
with little red Tadpoles to represent, by way of Triumph, the Tears
or Grief occasioned to their Relations; a black scalping Knife or
Hatchet at the Bottom, to mark their being killed with those
Instruments. 17 others, Hair very grey; black Hoops; plain brown
Colour; no Mark but the short Club or Cassetete, to shew they were
knocked down dead, or had their Brains beat out.
No. 6.
Containing 193 Boys' Scalps, of various Ages; small green
Hoops; whitish Ground on the Skin, with red Tears in the Middle, and
black Bullet-marks, Knife, Hatchet, or Club, as their Deaths
happened.
No. 7.
211 Girls' Scalps, big and little; small yellow Hoops; white
Ground; Tears; Hatchet, Club, scalping Knife, &c.
No. 8.
This Package is a Mixture of all the Varieties abovemention'd,
to the Number of 122; with a Box of Birch Bark, containing 29 little
Infants' Scalps of various Sizes; small white Hoops; white Ground; no
Tears; and only a little black Knife in the Middle, to shew they were
ript out of their Mothers' Bellies.
With these Packs, the Chiefs send to your Excellency the
following Speech, delivered by Conejogatchie in Council, interpreted
by the elder Moore, the Trader, and taken down by me in Writing.
_Father_,
We send you herewith many Scalps, that you may see we are not
idle Friends.
_A blue Belt._
_Father_,
We wish you to send these Scalps over the Water to the great
King, that he may regard them and be refreshed; and that he may see
our faithfulness in destroying his Enemies, and be convinced that his
Presents have not been made to ungrateful people.
_A blue and white Belt with red Tassels._
_Father_,
Attend to what I am now going to say: it is a Matter of much
Weight. The great King's Enemies are many, and they grow fast in
Number. They were formerly like young Panthers: they could neither
bite nor scratch: we could play with them safely: we feared nothing
they could do to us. But now their Bodies are become big as the Elk,
and strong as the Buffalo: they have also got great and sharp Claws.
They have driven us out of our Country for taking Part in your
Quarrel. We expect the great King will give us another Country, that
our Children may live after us, and be his Friends and Children, as
we are. Say this for us to the great King. To enforce it we give
this Belt.
_A great white Belt with blue Tassels._
_Father_,
We have only to say farther that your Traders exact more than
ever for their Goods: and our Hunting is lessened by the War, so that
we have fewer Skins to give for them. This ruins us. Think of some
Remedy. We are poor: and you have Plenty of every Thing. We know
you will send us Powder and Guns, and Knives and Hatchets: but we
also want Shirts and Blankets.
_A little white Belt._
I do not doubt but that your Excellency will think it proper to
give some farther Encouragement to those honest People. The high
Prices they complain of, are the necessary Effect of the War.
Whatever Presents may be sent for them through my Hands, shall be
distributed with Prudence and Fidelity. I have the Honour of being
Your Excellency's most obedient
And most humble Servant,
JAMES CRAUFURD."
It was at first proposed to bury these Scalps: but Lieutenant
Fitzgerald, who you know has got Leave of Absence to go for Ireland
on his private Affairs, said he thought it better they should proceed
to their Destination; and if they were given to him, he would
undertake to carry them to England, and hang them all up in some dark
Night on the Trees in St. James's Park, where they could be seen from
the King and Queen's Palaces in the Morning; for that the Sight of
them might perhaps strike Muley Ishmael (as he called him) with some
Compunction of Conscience. They were accordingly delivered to Fitz,
and he has brought them safe hither. To-morrow they go with his
Baggage in a Waggon for Boston, and will probably be there in a few
Days after this Letter.
I am, &c.
SAMUEL GERRISH.
BOSTON, March 20.
Monday last arrived here Lieutenant Fitzgerald abovementioned,
and Yesterday the Waggon with the Scalps. Thousands of People are
flocking to see them this Morning, and all Mouths are full of
Execrations. Fixing them to the Trees is not approved. It is now
proposed to make them up in decent little Packets, seal and direct
them; one to the King, containing a Sample of every Sort for his
Museum; one to the Queen, with some of Women and little Children: the
Rest to be distributed among both Houses of Parliament; a double
Quantity to the Bishops.
_Mr. Willis,_
Please to insert in your useful Paper the following Copy of a
Letter, from Commodore Jones, directed
_To Sir Joseph York, Ambassador from the King of England to the
States-general of the United Provinces._
_Ipswich, New-England,
Sir, _March_ 7, 1781.
I have lately seen a memorial, said to have been presented by
your Excellency to their High Mightinesses the States-general, in
which you are pleased to qualify me with the title of _pirate._
A pirate is defined to be _hostis humani generis_, [an enemy to
all mankind]. It happens, Sir, that I am an enemy to no part of
mankind, except your nation, the English; which nation at the same
time comes much more within the definition; being actually an enemy
to, and at war with, one whole quarter of the world, America,
considerable parts of Asia and Africa, a great part of Europe, and in
a fair way of being at war with the rest.
A pirate makes war for the sake of _rapine._ This is not the
kind of war I am engaged in against England. Our's is a war in
defence of _liberty_ . . . . the most just of all wars; and of our
_properties_, which your nation would have taken from us, without our
consent, in violation of our rights, and by an armed force. Your's,
therefore, is a war of _rapine_; of course, a piratical war: and
those who approve of it, and are engaged in it, more justly deserve
the name of pirates, which you bestow on me. It is, indeed, a war
that coincides with the general spirit of your nation. Your common
people in their ale-houses sing the twenty-four songs of Robin Hood,
and applaud his deer-stealing and his robberies on the highway: those
who have just learning enough to read, are delighted with your
histories of the pirates and of the buccaniers: and even your
scholars, in the universities, study Quintus Curtius; and are taught
to admire Alexander, for what they call "his conquests in the
Indies." Severe laws and the hangmen keep down the effects of this
spirit somewhat among yourselves, (though in your little island you
have, nevertheless, more highway robberies than there are in all the
rest of Europe put together): but a foreign war gives it full scope.
It is then that, with infinite pleasure, it lets itself loose to
strip of their property honest merchants, employed in the innocent
and useful occupation of supplying the mutual wants of mankind.
Hence, having lately no war with your ancient enemies, rather than be
without a war, you chose to make one upon your friends. In this your
piratical war with America, the mariners of your fleets, and the
owners of your privateers were animated against us by the act of your
parliament, which repealed the law of God -- "Thou shalt not steal,"
-- by declaring it lawful for them to rob us of all our property that
they could meet with on the Ocean. This act too had a retrospect,
and, going beyond bulls of pardon, declared that all the robberies
you _had committed_, previous to the act, should be _deemed just and
lawful._ Your soldiers too were promised the plunder of our cities:
and your officers were flattered with the division of our lands. You
had even the baseness to corrupt our servants, the sailors employed
by us, and encourage them to rob their masters, and bring to you the
ships and goods they were entrusted with. Is there any society of
pirates on the sea or land, who, in declaring wrong to be right, and
right wrong, have less authority than your parliament? Do any of
them more justly than your parliament deserve the _title_ you bestow
on me?
You will tell me that we forfeited all our estates by our
refusal to pay the taxes your nation would have imposed on us,
without the consent of our colony parliaments. Have you then forgot
the incontestible principle, which was the foundation of Hambden's
glorious lawsuit with Charles the first, that "what an English king
has no right to demand, an English subject has a right to refuse?"
But you cannot so soon have forgotten the instructions of your late
honourable father, who, being himself a sound Whig, taught you
certainly the principles of the Revolution, and that, "if subjects
might in some cases forfeit their property, kings also might forfeit
their title, and all claim to the allegiance of their subjects." I
must then suppose you well acquainted with those Whig principles, on
which permit me, Sir, to ask a few questions.
Is not protection as justly due from a king to his people, as
obedience from the people to their king?
If then a king declares his people to be out of his protection:
If he violates and deprives them of their constitutional
rights:
If he wages war against them:
If he plunders their merchants, ravages their coasts, burns
their towns, and destroys their lives:
If he hires foreign mercenaries to help him in their
destruction:
If he engages savages to murder their defenceless farmers,
women, and children:
If he cruelly forces such of his subjects as fall into his
hands, to bear arms against their country, and become executioners of
their friends and brethren:
If he sells others of them into bondage, in Africa and the East
Indies:
If he excites domestic insurrections among their servants, and
encourages servants to murder their masters: ------
Does not so atrocious a conduct towards his subjects, dissolve
their allegiance?
If not, -- please to say how or by what means it can possibly
be dissolved?
All this horrible wickedness and barbarity has been and daily
is practised by the king _your master_ (as you call him in your
memorial) upon the Americans, whom he is still pleased to claim as
his subjects.
During these six years past, he has destroyed not less than
forty thousand of those subjects, by battles on land or sea, or by
starving them, or poisoning them to death, in the unwholesome air,
with the unwholesome food of his prisons. And he has wasted the
lives of at least an equal number of his own soldiers and sailors:
many of whom have been _forced_ into this odious service, and
_dragged_ from their families and friends, by the outrageous violence
of his illegal press-gangs. You are a gentleman of letters, and have
read history: do you recollect any instance of any tyrant, since the
beginning of the world, who, in the course of so few years, had done
so much mischief, by murdering so many of his own people? Let us
view one of the worst and blackest of them, Nero. He put to death a
few of his courtiers, placemen, and pensioners, and among the rest
his _tutor._ Had George the third done the same, and no more, his
crime, though detestable, as an act of lawless power, might have been
as useful to his nation, as that of Nero was hurtful to Rome;
considering the different characters and merits of the sufferers.
Nero indeed wished that the people of Rome had but one neck, that he
might behead them all by one stroke: but this was a simple wish.
George is carrying the wish as fast as he can into execution; and, by
continuing in his present course a few years longer, will have
destroyed more of the British people than Nero could have found
inhabitants in Rome. Hence, the expression of Milton, in speaking of
Charles the first, that he was _"Nerone Neronior,"_ is still more
applicable to George the third. Like Nero and all other tyrants,
while they lived, he indeed has his flatterers, his addressers, his
applauders. Pensions, places, and hopes of preferment, can bribe
even bishops to approve his conduct: but, when those fulsome,
purchased addresses and panegyrics are sunk and lost in oblivion or
contempt, impartial history will step forth, speak honest truth, and
rank him among public calamities. The only difference will be, that
plagues, pestilences, and famines are of this world, and arise from
the nature of things: but voluntary malice, mischief, and murder are
all from Hell: and this King will, therefore, stand foremost in the
list of diabolical, bloody, and execrable tyrants. His base-bought
parliaments too, who sell him their souls, and extort from the people
the money with which they aid his destructive purposes, as they share
his guilt, will share his infamy, -- parliaments, who to please him,
have repeatedly, by different votes year after year, dipped their
hands in human blood, insomuch that methinks I see it dried and caked
so thick upon them, that if they could wash it off in the Thames
which flows under their windows, the whole river would run red to the
Ocean.
One is provoked by enormous wickedness: but one is ashamed and
humiliated at the view of human baseness. It afflicts me, therefore,
to see a gentleman of Sir Joseph York's education and talents, for
the sake of a red riband and a paltry stipend, mean enough to stile
such a monster _his master_, wear his livery, and hold himself ready
at his command even to cut the throats of fellow-subjects. This
makes it impossible for me to end my letter with the civility of a
compliment, and obliges me to subscribe myself simply,
JOHN PAUL JONES,
whom you are pleased to stile a _Pirate._
Passy, April, 1782
_Articles for a Treaty of Peace with Madame Brillon_
Passy, July 27.
What a difference, my dear Friend, between you and me! -- You
find my Faults so many as to be innumerable, while I can see but one
in you; and perhaps that is the Fault of my Spectacles. -- The Fault
I mean is that kind of Covetousness, by which you would engross all
my Affection, and permit me none for the other amiable Ladies of your
Country. You seem to imagine that it cannot be divided without being
diminish'd: In which you mistake the nature of the Thing and forget
the Situation in which you have plac'd and hold me. You renounce and
exclude arbitrarily every thing corporal from our Amour, except such
a merely civil Embrace now and then as you would permit to a country
Cousin, -- what is there then remaining that I may not afford to
others without a Diminution of what belongs to you? The Operations
of the Mind, Esteem, Admiration, Respect, & even Affection for one
Object, may be multiply'd as more Objects that merit them present
themselves, and yet remain the same to the first, which therefore has
no room to complain of Injury. They are in their Nature as divisible
as the sweet Sounds of the Forte Piano produc'd by your exquisite
Skill: Twenty People may receive the same Pleasure from them, without
lessening that which you kindly intend for me; and I might as
reasonably require of your Friendship, that they should reach and
delight no Ears but mine.
You see by this time how unjust you are in your Demands, and in
the open War you declare against me if I do not comply with them.
Indeed it is I that have the most Reason to complain. My poor little
Boy, whom you ought methinks to have cherish'd, instead of being fat
and Jolly like those in your elegant Drawings, is meagre and starv'd
almost to death for want of the substantial Nourishment which you his
Mother inhumanly deny him, and yet would now clip his little Wings to
prevent his seeking it elsewhere! --
I fancy we shall neither of us get any thing by this War, and
therefore as feeling my self the Weakest, I will do what indeed ought
always to be done by the Wisest, be first in making the Propositions
for Peace. That a Peace may be lasting, the Articles of the Treaty
should be regulated upon the Principles of the most perfect Equity &
Reciprocity. In this View I have drawn up & offer the following,
viz. --
ARTICLE 1.
There shall be eternal Peace, Friendship & Love, between Madame
B. and Mr F.
ARTICLE 2.
In order to maintain the same inviolably, Made B. on her Part
stipulates and agrees, that Mr F. shall come to her whenever she
sends for him.
ART. 3.
That he shall stay with her as long as she pleases.
ART. 4.
That when he is with her, he shall be oblig'd to drink Tea,
play Chess, hear Musick; or do any other thing that she requires of
him.
ART. 5.
And that he shall love no other Woman but herself.
ART. 6.
And the said Mr F. on his part stipulates and agrees, that he
will go away from M. B.'s whenever he pleases.
ART. 7.
That he will stay away as long as he pleases.
ART. 8.
That when he is with her, he will do what he pleases.
ART. 9.
And that he will love any other Woman as far as he finds her amiable.
Let me know what you think of these Preliminaries. To me they
seem to express the true Meaning and Intention of each Party more
plainly than most Treaties. -- I shall insist pretty strongly on the
eighth Article, tho' without much Hope of your Consent to it; and on
the ninth also, tho I despair of ever finding any other Woman that I
could love with equal Tenderness: being ever, my dear dear Friend,
Yours most sincerely
1782
_Apologue_
Lion, king of a certain forest, had among his subjects a
body of faithful dogs, in principle and affection strongly attached
to his person and government, but through whose assistance he had
extended his dominions, and had become the terror of his enemies.
Lion, however, influenced by evil counsellors, took an aversion
to the dogs, condemned them unheard, and ordered his tigers,
leopards, and panthers to attack and destroy them.
The dogs petitioned humbly, but their petitions were rejected
haughtily; and they were forced to defend themselves, which they did
with bravery.
A few among them, of a mongrel race, derived from a mixture
with wolves and foxes, corrupted by royal promises of great rewards,
deserted the honest dogs and joined their enemies.
The dogs were finally victorious: a treaty of peace was made,
in which Lion acknowledged them to be free, and disclaimed all future
authority over them.
The mongrels not being permitted to return among them, claimed
of the royalists the reward that had been promised.
A council of the beasts was held to consider their demand.
The wolves and the foxes agreed unanimously that the demand was
just, that royal promises ought to be kept, and that every loyal
subject should contribute freely to enable his majesty to fulfil
them.
The horse alone, with a boldness and freedom that became the
nobleness of his nature, delivered a contrary opinion.
"The King," said he, "has been misled, by bad ministers, to war
unjustly upon his faithful subjects. Royal promises, when made to
encourage us to act for the public good, should indeed be honourably
acquitted; but if to encourage us to betray and destroy each other,
they are wicked and void from the beginning. The advisers of such
promises, and those who murdered in consequence of them, instead of
being recompensed, should be severely punished. Consider how greatly
our common strength is already diminished by our loss of the dogs.
If you enable the King to reward those fratricides, you will
establish a precedent that may justify a future tyrant to make like
promises; and every example of such an unnatural brute rewarded will
give them additional weight. Horses and bulls, as well as dogs, may
thus be divided against their own kind, and civil wars produced at
pleasure, till we are so weakened that neither liberty nor safety is
any longer to be found in the forest, and nothing remains but abject
submission to the will of a despot, who may devour us as he pleases."
The council had sense enough to resolve -- that the demand be
rejected.
c. November, 1782
_Remarks Concerning the Savages of North-America_
Savages we call them, because their manners differ from ours,
which we think the Perfection of Civility; they think the same of
theirs.
Perhaps if we could examine the manners of different Nations
with Impartiality, we should find no People so rude as to be without
any Rules of Politeness; nor any so polite as not to have some
remains of Rudeness.
The Indian Men, when young, are Hunters and Warriors; when old,
Counsellors; for all their Government is by the Counsel or Advice of
the Sages; there is no Force, there are no Prisons, no Officers to
compel Obedience, or inflict Punishment. Hence they generally study
Oratory; the best Speaker having the most Influence. The Indian
Women till the Ground, dress the Food, nurse and bring up the
Children, and preserve and hand down to Posterity the Memory of
Public Transactions. These Employments of Men and Women are
accounted natural and honorable. Having few Artificial Wants, they
have abundance of Leisure for Improvement by Conversation. Our
laborious manner of Life compared with theirs, they esteem slavish
and base; and the Learning on which we value ourselves; they regard
as frivolous and useless. An Instance of this occurred at the Treaty
of Lancaster in Pennsylvania, Anno 1744, between the Government of
Virginia & the Six Nations. After the principal Business was
settled, the Commissioners from Virginia acquainted the Indians by a
Speech, that there was at Williamsburg a College with a Fund for
Educating Indian Youth, and that if the Chiefs of the Six-Nations
would send down half a dozen of their Sons to that College, the
Government would take Care that they should be well provided for, and
instructed in all the Learning of the white People. It is one of the
Indian Rules of Politeness not to answer a public Proposition the
same day that it is made; they think it would be treating it as a
light Matter; and that they show it Respect by taking time to
consider it, as of a Matter important. They therefore deferred their
Answer till the day following; when their Speaker began by expressing
their deep Sense of the Kindness of the Virginia Government, in
making them that Offer; for we know, says he, that you highly esteem
the kind of Learning taught in those Colleges, and that the
Maintenance of our Young Men while with you, would be very expensive
to you. We are convinced therefore that you mean to do us good by
your Proposal, and we thank you heartily. But you who are wise must
know, that different Nations have different Conceptions of things;
and you will therefore not take it amiss, if our Ideas of this Kind
of Education happen not to be the same with yours. We have had some
Experience of it: Several of our Young People were formerly brought
up at the Colleges of the Northern Provinces; they were instructed in
all your Sciences; but when they came back to us, they were bad
Runners, ignorant of every means of living in the Woods, unable to
bear either Cold or Hunger, knew neither how to build a Cabin, take a
Deer, or kill an Enemy, spoke our Language imperfectly; were
therefore neither fit for Hunters, Warriors, or Counsellors; they
were totally good for nothing. We are however not the less obliged
by your kind Offer, tho' we decline accepting it; and to show our
grateful Sense of it, if the Gentlemen of Virginia will send us a
dozen of their Sons, we will take great Care of their Education,
instruct them in all we know, and make _Men_ of them.
Having frequent Occasions to hold public Councils, they have
acquired great Order and Decency in conducting them. The old Men sit
in the foremost Ranks, the Warriors in the next, and the Women and
Children in the hindmost. The Business of the Women is to take exact
notice of what passes, imprint it in their Memories, for they have no
Writing, and communicate it to their Children. They are the Records
of the Council, and they preserve Tradition of the Stipulations in
Treaties a hundred Years back, which when we compare with our
Writings we always find exact. He that would speak, rises. The rest
observe a profound Silence. When he has finished and sits down, they
leave him five or six Minutes to recollect, that if he has omitted
any thing he intended to say, or has any thing to add, he may rise
again and deliver it. To interrupt another, even in common
Conversation, is reckoned highly indecent. How different this is
from the Conduct of a polite British House of Commons, where scarce a
Day passes without some Confusion that makes the Speaker hoarse in
calling _to order_; and how different from the mode of Conversation
in many polite Companies of Europe, where if you do not deliver your
Sentence with great Rapidity, you are cut off in the middle of it by
the impatient Loquacity of those you converse with, & never suffer'd
to finish it.
The Politeness of these Savages in Conversation is indeed
carried to excess, since it does not permit them to contradict, or
deny the Truth of what is asserted in their Presence. By this means
they indeed avoid Disputes, but then it becomes difficult to know
their Minds, or what Impression you make upon them. The Missionaries
who have attempted to convert them to Christianity, all complain of
this as one of the great Difficulties of their Mission. The Indians
hear with Patience the Truths of the Gospel explained to them, and
give their usual Tokens of Assent and Approbation: you would think
they were convinced. No such Matter. It is mere Civility.
A Suedish Minister having assembled the Chiefs of the
Sasquehanah Indians, made a Sermon to them, acquainting them with the
principal historical Facts on which our Religion is founded, such as
the Fall of our first Parents by Eating an Apple, the Coming of
Christ to repair the Mischief, his Miracles and Suffering, &c. When
he had finished, an Indian Orator stood up to thank him. What you
have told us, says he, is all very good. It is indeed bad to eat
Apples. It is better to make them all into Cyder. We are much
obliged by your Kindness in coming so far to tell us those things
which you have heard from your Mothers. In Return I will tell you
some of those we have heard from ours.
In the Beginning our Fathers had only the Flesh of Animals to
subsist on, and if their Hunting was unsuccessful, they were
starving. Two of our young Hunters having killed a Deer, made a Fire
in the Woods to broil some Parts of it. When they were about to
satisfy their Hunger, they beheld a beautiful young Woman descend
from the Clouds, and seat herself on that Hill which you see yonder
among the blue Mountains. They said to each other, it is a Spirit
that perhaps has smelt our broiling Venison, & wishes to eat of it:
let us offer some to her. They presented her with the Tongue: She
was pleased with the Taste of it, & said, your Kindness shall be
rewarded. Come to this Place after thirteen Moons, and you shall
find something that will be of great Benefit in nourishing you and
your Children to the latest Generations. They did so, and to their
Surprise found Plants they had never seen before, but which from that
ancient time have been constantly cultivated among us to our great
Advantage. Where her right Hand had touch'd the Ground, they found
Maize; where her left Hand had touch'd it, they found Kidney-beans;
and where her Backside had sat on it, they found Tobacco. The good
Missionary, disgusted with this idle Tale, said, what I delivered to
you were sacred Truths; but what you tell me is mere Fable, Fiction &
Falsehood. The Indian offended, reply'd, my Brother, it seems your
Friends have not done you Justice in your Education; they have not
well instructed you in the Rules of common Civility. You saw that we
who understand and practise those Rules, believed all your Stories;
why do you refuse to believe ours?
When any of them come into our Towns, our People are apt to
croud round them, gaze upon them, and incommode them where they
desire to be private; this they esteem great Rudeness, and the Effect
of want of Instruction in the Rules of Civility and good Manners. We
have, say they, as much Curiosity as you, and when you come into our
Towns we wish for Opportunities of looking at you; but for this
purpose we hide ourselves behind Bushes where you are to pass, and
never intrude ourselves into your Company.
Their Manner of entring one anothers Villages has likewise its
Rules. It is reckon'd uncivil in travelling Strangers to enter a
Village abruptly, without giving Notice of their Approach. Therefore
as soon as they arrive within hearing, they stop and hollow,
remaining there till invited to enter. Two old Men usually come out
to them, and lead them in. There is in every Village a vacant
Dwelling, called the Strangers House. Here they are placed, while
the old Men go round from Hut to Hut acquainting the Inhabitants that
Strangers are arrived, who are probably hungry and weary; and every
one sends them what he can spare of Victuals and Skins to repose on.
When the Strangers are refresh'd, Pipes & Tobacco are brought; and
then, but not before, Conversation begins, with Enquiries who they
are, whither bound, what News, &c. and it usually ends with Offers of
Service, if the Strangers have Occasion of Guides or any Necessaries
for continuing their Journey; and nothing is exacted for the
Entertainment.
The same Hospitality, esteemed among them as a principal
Virtue, is practised by private Persons; of which _Conrad Weiser_,
our Interpreter, gave me the following Instance. He had been
naturaliz'd among the Six-Nations, and spoke well the Mohock
Language. In going thro' the Indian Country, to carry a Message from
our Governor to the Council at _Onondaga_, he called at the
Habitation of _Canassetego_, an old Acquaintance, who embraced him,
spread Furs for him to sit on, placed before him some boiled Beans
and Venison, and mixed some Rum and Water for his Drink. When he was
well refresh'd, and had lit his Pipe, Canassetego began to converse
with him, ask'd how he had fared the many Years since they had seen
each other, whence he then came, what occasioned the Journey, &c. &c.
Conrad answered all his Questions; and when the Discourse began to
flag, the Indian, to continue it, said, Conrad, you have liv'd long
among the white People, and know something of their Customs; I have
been sometimes at Albany, and have observed that once in seven Days,
they shut up their Shops and assemble all in the great House; tell
me, what it is for? what do they do there? They meet there, says
Conrad, to hear & learn _good things._ I do not doubt, says the
Indian, that they tell you so; they have told me the same; but I
doubt the Truth of what they say, & I will tell you my Reasons. I
went lately to Albany to sell my Skins, & buy Blankets, Knives,
Powder, Rum, &c. You know I used generally to deal with Hans Hanson;
but I was a little inclined this time to try some other Merchants.
However I called first upon Hans, and ask'd him what he would give
for Beaver; He said he could not give more than four Shillings a
Pound; but, says he, I cannot talk on Business now; this is the Day
when we meet together to learn _good things_, and I am going to the
Meeting. So I thought to myself since I cannot do any Business to
day, I may as well go to the Meeting too; and I went with him. There
stood up a Man in black, and began to talk to the People very
angrily. I did not understand what he said; but perceiving that he
looked much at me, & at Hanson, I imagined he was angry at seeing me
there; so I went out, sat down near the House, struck Fire & lit my
Pipe; waiting till the Meeting should break up. I thought too, that
the Man had mentioned something of Beaver, and I suspected it might
be the Subject of their Meeting. So when they came out I accosted
any Merchant; well Hans, says I, I hope you have agreed to give more
than four Shillings a Pound. No, says he, I cannot give so much. I
cannot give more than three Shillings and six Pence. I then spoke to
several other Dealers, but they all sung the same Song, three & six
Pence, three & six Pence. This made it clear to me that my Suspicion
was right; and that whatever they pretended of Meeting to learn _good
things_, the real Purpose was to consult, how to cheat Indians in the
Price of Beaver. Consider but a little, Conrad, and you must be of
my Opinion. If they met so often to learn _good things_, they would
certainly have learnt some before this time. But they are still
ignorant. You know our Practice. If a white Man in travelling thro'
our Country, enters one of our Cabins, we all treat him as I treat
you; we dry him if he is wet, we warm him if he is cold, and give him
Meat & Drink that he may allay his Thirst and Hunger, & we spread
soft Furs for him to rest & sleep on: We demand nothing in return (*
1). But if I go into a white Man's House at Albany, and ask for
Victuals & Drink, they say, where is your Money? and if I have none,
they say, get out, you Indian Dog. You see they have not yet learnt
those little _good things_, that we need no Meetings to be instructed
in, because our Mothers taught them to us when we were Children. And
therefore it is impossible their Meetings should be as they say for
any such purpose, or have any such Effect; they are only to contrive
_the Cheating of Indians in the Price of Beaver._
(* 1) _It is remarkable that in all Ages and Countries,
Hospitality has been allowed as the Virtue of those, whom the
civiliz'd were pleased to call Barbarians; the Greeks celebrated the
Scythians for it. The Saracens possess'd it eminently; and it is to
this day the reigning Virtue of the wild Arabs. S. Paul too, in the
Relation of his Voyage & Shipwreck, on the Island of Melita, says,_
The Barbarous People shew'd us no little Kindness; for they kindled a
Fire, and received us every one, because of the present Rain &
because of the Cold.
Passy, 1783
_Information to Those Who Would Remove to America_
Many Persons in Europe having directly or by Letters, express'd
to the Writer of this, who is well acquainted with North-America,
their Desire of transporting and establishing themselves in that
Country; but who appear to him to have formed thro' Ignorance,
mistaken Ideas & Expectations of what is to be obtained there; he
thinks it may be useful, and prevent inconvenient, expensive &
fruitless Removals and Voyages of improper Persons, if he gives some
clearer & truer Notions of that Part of the World than appear to have
hitherto prevailed.
He finds it is imagined by Numbers that the Inhabitants of
North-America are rich, capable of rewarding, and dispos'd to reward
all sorts of Ingenuity; that they are at the same time ignorant of
all the Sciences; & consequently that strangers possessing Talents in
the Belles-Letters, fine Arts, &c. must be highly esteemed, and so
well paid as to become easily rich themselves; that there are also
abundance of profitable Offices to be disposed of, which the Natives
are not qualified to fill; and that having few Persons of Family
among them, Strangers of Birth must be greatly respected, and of
course easily obtain the best of those Offices, which will make all
their Fortunes: that the Goverments too, to encourage Emigrations
from Europe, not only pay the expence of personal Transportation, but
give Lands gratis to Strangers, with Negroes to work for them,
Utensils of Husbandry, & Stocks of Cattle. These are all wild
Imaginations; and those who go to America with Expectations founded
upon them, will surely find themselves disappointed.
The Truth is, that tho' there are in that Country few People so
miserable as the Poor of Europe, there are also very few that in
Europe would be called rich: it is rather a general happy Mediocrity
that prevails. There are few great Proprietors of the Soil, and few
Tenants; most People cultivate their own Lands, or follow some
Handicraft or Merchandise; very few rich enough to live idly upon
their Rents or Incomes; or to pay the high Prices given in Europe,
for Paintings, Statues, Architecture and the other Works of Art that
are more curious than useful. Hence the natural Geniuses that have
arisen in America, with such Talents, have uniformly quitted that
Country for Europe, where they can be more suitably rewarded. It is
true that Letters and mathematical Knowledge are in Esteem there, but
they are at the same time more common than is apprehended; there
being already existing nine Colleges or Universities, viz. four in
New-England, and one in each of the Provinces of New-York,
New-Jersey, Pensilvania, Maryland and Virginia, all furnish'd with
learned Professors; besides a number of smaller Academies: These
educate many of their Youth in the Languages and those Sciences that
qualify Men for the Professions of Divinity, Law or Physick.
Strangers indeed are by no means excluded from exercising those
Professions, and the quick Increase of Inhabitants every where gives
them a Chance of Employ, which they have in common with the Natives.
Of civil Offices or Employments there are few; no superfluous Ones as
in Europe; and it is a Rule establish'd in some of the States, that
no Office should be so profitable as to make it desirable. The 36
Article of the Constitution of Pensilvania, runs expresly in these
Words: _As every Freeman, to preserve his Independance,_ (_if he has
not a sufficient Estate_) _ought to have some Profession, Calling,
Trade or Farm, whereby he may honestly subsist, there can be no
Necessity for, nor Use in, establishing Offices of Profit; the usual
Effects of which are Dependance and Servility, unbecoming Freemen, in
the Possessors and Expectants; Faction, Contention, Corruption, and
Disorder among the People. Wherefore whenever an Office, thro'
Increase of Fees or otherwise, becomes so profitable as to occasion
many to apply for it, the Profits ought to be lessened by the
Legislature._
These Ideas prevailing more or less in all the United States,
it cannot be worth any Man's while, who has a means of Living at
home, to expatriate himself in hopes of obtaining a profitable civil
Office in America; and as to military Offices, they are at an End
with the War; the Armies being disbanded. Much less is it adviseable
for a Person to go thither who has no other Quality to recommend him
but his Birth. In Europe it has indeed its Value, but it is a
Commodity that cannot be carried to a worse Market than to that of
America, where People do not enquire concerning a Stranger, _What IS
he?_ but _What can he DO?_ If he has any useful Art, he is welcome;
and if he exercises it and behaves well, he will be respected by all
that know him; but a mere Man of Quality, who on that Account wants
to live upon the Public, by some Office or Salary, will be despis'd
and disregarded. The Husbandman is in honor there, & even the
Mechanic, because their Employments are useful. The People have a
Saying, that God Almighty is himself a Mechanic, the greatest in the
Universe; and he is respected and admired more for the Variety,
Ingenuity and Utility of his Handiworks, than for the Antiquity of
his Family. They are pleas'd with the Observation of a Negro, and
frequently mention it, that _Boccarorra_ (meaning the Whiteman) make
de Blackman workee, make de Horse workee, make de Ox workee, make
ebery ting workee; only de Hog. He de Hog, no workee; he eat, he
drink, he walk about, he go to sleep when he please, _he libb like a
Gentleman._ According to these Opinions of the Americans, one of them
would think himself more oblig'd to a Genealogist, who could prove
for him that his Ancestors & Relations for ten Generations had been
Ploughmen, Smiths, Carpenters, Turners, Weavers, Tanners, or even
Shoemakers, & consequently that they were useful Members of Society;
than if he could only prove that they were Gentlemen, doing nothing
of Value, but living idly on the Labour of others, mere _fruges
consumere nati_ (* 1), and otherwise _good_
for _nothing_, till by their Death, their Estates like the Carcase of
the Negro's Gentleman-Hog, come to be _cut up._
(* 1) _There are a Number of us born Merely to eat up the Corn._
WATTS.
With Regard to Encouragements for Strangers from Government,
they are really only what are derived from good Laws & Liberty.
Strangers are welcome because there is room enough for them all, and
therefore the old Inhabitants are not jealous of them; the Laws
protect them sufficiently, so that they have no need of the Patronage
of great Men; and every one will enjoy securely the Profits of his
Industry. But if he does not bring a Fortune with him, he must work
and be industrious to live. One or two Years Residence give him all
the Rights of a Citizen; but the Government does not at present,
whatever it may have done in former times, hire People to become
Settlers, by Paying their Passages, giving Land, Negroes, Utensils,
Stock, or any other kind of Emolument whatsoever. In short America
is the Land of Labour, and by no means what the English call
_Lubberland_, and the French _Pays de Cocagne_, where the Streets are
said to be pav'd with half-peck Loaves, the Houses til'd with
Pancakes, and where the Fowls fly about ready roasted, crying, _Come
eat me!_
Who then are the kind of Persons to whom an Emigration to
America may be advantageous? and what are the Advantages they may
reasonably expect?
Land being cheap in that Country, from the vast Forests still
void of Inhabitants, and not likely to be occupied in an Age to come,
insomuch that the Propriety of an hundred Acres of fertile Soil full
of Wood may be obtained near the Frontiers in many Places for eight
or ten Guineas, hearty young Labouring Men, who understand the
Husbandry of Corn and Cattle, which is nearly the same in that
Country as in Europe, may easily establish themselves there. A
little Money sav'd of the good Wages they receive there while they
work for others, enables them to buy the Land and begin their
Plantation, in which they are assisted by the Good Will of their
Neighbours and some Credit. Multitudes of poor People from England,
Ireland, Scotland and Germany, have by this means in a few Years
become wealthy Farmers, who in their own Countries, where all the
Lands are fully occupied, and the Wages of Labour low, could never
have emerged from the mean Condition wherein they were born.
From the Salubrity of the Air, the Healthiness of the Climate,
the Plenty of good Provision