No More Learning

No Englishman of his generation
can now be said to have established a more enduring fame, in any
way, than Franklin established in many ways. As a printer, as a
journalist, as a diplomatist, as a statesman, as a philosopher, he was
easily first among his peers.
On the other hand, it is no disparagement of the services of any
of his contemporaries on either side of the Atlantic, to say that no
one of his generation contributed more effectually to the dissolution
of the bonds which united the principal British-American colonies to
the mother country, and towards conferring upon them independence
and a popular government.
As a practical printer Franklin was reported to have had no supe-
riors; as a journalist he exerted an influence not only unrivaled in his
day, but more potent, on this continent at least, than either of his
sovereigns or their Parliaments. The organization of police, and
later of the militia, for Philadelphia; of companies for extinguishing
fires; making the sweeping and paving of the streets a municipal
function; the formation of the first public library for Philadelphia,
and the establishment of an academy which has matured into the
now famous University of Pennsylvania, were among the conspicuous
reforms which he planted and watered in the columns of the Phila-
delphia Gazette. This journal he founded; upon the earnings of it
he mainly subsisted during a long life, and any sheet of it to-day
would bring a larger price in the open market probably than a single
sheet of any other periodical ever published.


## p. 5926 (#514) ###########################################

5926
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
Franklin's Almanack, his crowning work in the sphere of jour-
nalism, published under the pseudonym of Richard Saunders, - better
known since as Poor Richard,—is still one of the marvels of modern
literature. Under one or another of many titles the contents of this
publication, exclusive of its calendars, have been translated into every
tongue having any pretensions to a literature; and have had more
readers, probably, than any other publication in the English or in-
deed in any other language, with the single exception of the Bible.
It was the first issue from an American press that found a popular
welcome in foreign lands, and it still enjoys the special distinction of
being the only almanac ever published that owed its extraordinary
popularity entirely to its literary merit.
What adds to the surprise with which we contemplate the fame
and fortunes of this unpretentious publication, is the fact that its
reputation was established by its first number, and when its author
was only twenty-six years of age. For a period of twenty-six years,
and until Franklin ceased to edit it, this annual was looked forward
to by a larger portion of the colonial population and with more
impatience than now awaits a President's annual message to Congress.
Franklin graduated from journalism into diplomacy as naturally.
as winter glides into spring. This was simply because he was by
common acclaim the fittest man for any kind of public service the
colony possessed, and especially for any duty requiring talents for
persuasion, in which he proved himself to be unquestionably past
master among the diplomatists of his time.
The question of taxing the Penn proprietary estates in Pennsyl-
vania, for the defense of the province from the French and Indians,
had assumed such an acute stage in 1757 that the Assembly decided
to petition the King upon the subject; and selected Franklin, then in
the forty-first year of his age, to visit London and present their peti-
tion. The next forty-one years of his life were practically all spent
in the diplomatic service. He was five years absent on this his first
mission. Every interest in London was against him. He finally sur-
mounted all obstacles by a compromise, which pledged the Assembly
to pass an act exempting from taxation the unsurveyed lands of the
Penn estate, the surveyed waste lands, however, to be assessed at
the usual rate. For his success the Penns and their partisans never
forgave him, and his fellow colonists never forgot him.
Franklin returned to Philadelphia in 1762, but not to remain.
The question of taxing the colonies without representation was soon
thrust upon them in the shape of a stamp duty, and Franklin was
sent out again to urge its repeal. He reached London in November
1764, where he remained the next eleven years and until it became
apparent that the surrender of the right to arbitrarily tax the


## p. 5927 (#515) ###########################################

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
5927
colonies would never be made by England during the life of the
reigning sovereign, George III. Satisfied that his usefulness in Eng-
land was at an end, he sailed for Philadelphia on the 21st of March,
1775; and on the morning of his arrival was elected by the Assembly
of Pennsylvania a delegate to the Continental Congress which con-
solidated the armies of the colonies, placed General George Washing-
ton in command of them, issued the first Continental currency, and
assumed the responsibility of resisting the imperial government; his
last hope of maintaining the integrity of the empire having been
dissipated by recent collisions between the people and the royalist
troops at Concord and Lexington. Franklin served on ten com-
mittees in this Congress. He was one of the five who drew up the
Declaration of Independence in July 1776, and in September following
was chosen unanimously as one of the three commissioners to be
sent out to solicit for the infant republic the aid of France and the
sympathies of continental Europe. In this mission, the importance
of which to his country can hardly be exaggerated, he was greatly
favored by the reputation which had preceded him as a man of
science. While yet a journalist he had made some experiments in
electricity, which established its identity with lightning. The publi-
cation by an English correspondent of the letters in which he gave
an account of these experiments, secured his election as an honorary
member of the Royal Society of London and undisputed rank among
the most eminent natural philosophers of his time. When he arrived
in Paris, therefore, he was already a member of every important
learned society in Europe, one of the managers of the Royal Society
of London, and one of the eight foreign members of the Royal Acad-
emy in Paris, where three editions of his scientific writings had
already been printed. To these advantages must be added another
of even greater weight: his errand there was to assist in dismember-
ing the British Empire, than which nothing of a political nature was
at this time much nearer every Frenchman's heart.
The history of this mission, and how Franklin succeeded in procur-
ing from the French King financial aid to the amount of twenty-six
millions of francs, at times when the very existence of the republic
depended upon them, and finally a treaty of peace more favorable to
his country than either England or France wished to concede, has
been often told; and there is no chapter in the chronicles of this
republic with which the world is more familiar.
Franklin's reputation grew with his success. "It was," wrote
his colleague John Adams, "more universal than that of Leibnitz or
Newton, Frederick the Great or Voltaire, and his character more
beloved and esteemed than all of them.
If a collection
could be made of all the gazettes of Europe for the latter half of the
·


## p. 5928 (#516) ###########################################

5928
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
eighteenth century, a greater number of panegyrical paragraphs upon
le grand Franklin would appear, it is believed, than upon any other
man that ever lived. "
A few weeks after signing the definitive treaty of peace in 1783,
Franklin renewed an application which he had previously made just
after signing the preliminary treaty, to be relieved of his mission;
but it was not until the 7th of March, 1785, that Congress adopted a
resolution permitting "the Honorable Benjamin Franklin to return
to America as soon as convenient. " Three days later, Thomas Jeffer-
son was appointed to succeed him.
On the 13th of September, 1785, and after a sojourn of nearly nine
years in the French capital, first in the capacity of commissioner and
subsequently of minister plenipotentiary, Franklin once more landed
in Philadelphia, on the same wharf on which, sixty-two years before,
he had stepped, a friendless and practically penniless runaway appren-
tice of seventeen.
Though now in his seventy-ninth year, and a prey to infirmities
not the necessary incidents of old age, he had scarcely unpacked his
trunks after his return when he was chosen a member of the munici-
pal council of Philadelphia, and its chairman. Shortly after, he was
elected president of Pennsylvania, his own vote only lacking to make
the vote unanimous. "I have not firmness," he wrote to a friend, "to
resist the unanimous desire of my countryfolks; and I find myself
harnessed again into their service another year. They engrossed the
prime of my life; they have eaten my flesh, and seem resolved now
to pick my bones. "
He was unanimously re-elected to this dignity for the two succeed-
ing years, and while holding that office was chosen a member of the
convention which met in May 1787 to frame the Constitution under
which the people of the United States are still living.
With the adoption of that instrument, to which he probably con-
tributed as much as any other individual, he retired from official life;
though not from the service of the public, to which for the remain-
ing years of his stay on earth his genius and his talents were faith-
fully consecrated.
Among the fruits of that unfamiliar leisure, always to be remem-
bered among the noblest achievements of his illustrious career, was
the part he had in organizing the first anti-slavery society in the
world; and as its president, writing and signing the first remonstrance
against slavery ever addressed to the Congress of the United States.
In surveying the life of Dr. Franklin as a whole, the thing that
most impresses one is his constant study and singleness of purpose
to promote the welfare of human society. It was his daily theme as
a journalist, and his yearly theme as an almanac-maker. It is that


## p. 5929 (#517) ###########################################

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
5929
which first occurs to us when we recall his career as a member of
the Colonial Assembly; as an agent of the provinces in England;
as a diplomatist in France; and as a member of the conventions
which crowned the consistent labors of his long life. Nor are there
any now so bold as to affirm that there was any other person who
could have been depended upon to accomplish for his country or the
world, what Franklin did in any of the several stages of his versatile
career.
Though holding office for more than half of his life, the office
always sought Franklin, not Franklin the office. When sent to Eng-
land as the agent of the colony, he withdrew from business with a
modest competence judiciously invested mostly in real estate. He
never seems to have given a thought to its increase. Frugal in his
habits, simple in his tastes, wise in his indulgences, he died with a
fortune neither too large nor too small for his fame as a citizen or a
patriot. For teaching frugality and economy to the colonists, when
frugality and economy were indispensable to the conservation of their
independence and manhood, he has been sneered at as the teacher of
a "candle-end-saving philosophy," and his 'Poor Richard' as a "col-
lection of receipts for laying up treasures on earth rather than in
heaven. " Franklin never taught, either by precept or example, to lay
up treasures on earth. He taught the virtues of industry, thrift, and
economy, as the virtues supremely important in his time, to keep
people out of debt and to provide the means of educating and digni-
fying society. He never countenanced the accumulation of wealth
for its own sake, but for its uses, -its prompt convertibility into
social comforts and refinements. It would be difficult to name
another man of any age to whom an ambition to accumulate wealth
as an end could be imputed with less propriety. Though probably
the most inventive genius of his age, and thus indirectly the founder
of many fortunes, he never asked a patent for any of his inventions
or discoveries. Though one of the best writers of the English
language that his country has yet produced, he never wrote a line
for money after he withdrew from the calling by which he made a
modest provision for his family.
For the remaining half of his life both at home and abroad,
though constantly operating upon public opinion by his pen, he
never availed himself of a copyright or received a penny from any
publisher or patron for any of these labors. In none of the public
positions which he held, even when minister plenipotentiary, did his
pay equal his expenditures. He was three years president of Penn-
sylvania after his return from France, and for his services declined to
appropriate to his own use anything beyond his necessary expendi-
tures for stationery, postage, and transportation. It is not by such.


## p. 5930 (#518) ###########################################

5930
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
methods that men justly incur the implied reproach of "laying up
treasures on earth," or of teaching a candle-end-saving philosophy.
Franklin courted fame no more than fortune. The best of his
writings, after his retirement from journalism, he never gave to the
press at all; not even his incomparable autobiography, which is still
republished more frequently than any of the writings of Dickens or
of Thackeray. He always wrote for a larger purpose than mere per-
sonal gratification of any kind. Even his bagatelles and jeux d'esprit
read in the salons of Paris, though apparently intended for the eyes
of a small circle, were inspired by a desire to make friends and
create respect for the struggling people and the great cause he rep-
resented. Few if any of them got into print until many years after
his decease.
Franklin was from his youth up a leader, a lion in whatever
circle he entered, whether in the printing-house, the provincial As-
semblies, as agent in England, or as a courtier in France. There
was no one too eminent in science or literature, on either side of
the Atlantic, not to esteem his acquaintance a privilege. He was
an honorary member of every important scientific association in the
world, and in friendly correspondence with most of those who con-
ferred upon those bodies any distinction; and all this by force of a
personal, not to say planetary, attraction that no one brought within
his sphere could long resist.
Pretty much all of importance that we know of Franklin we
gather from his private correspondence. His contemporaries wrote
or at least printed very little about him; scarcely one of the multi-
tude whose names he embalmed in his 'Autobiography' ever printed
a line about him. All that we know of the later half of his life not
covered by his autobiography, we owe almost exclusively to his pri-
vate and official correspondence. Though reckoning among his warm
friends and correspondents such men as David Hume, Dr. Joseph
Priestley, Dr. Price, Lord Kames, Lord Chatham, Dr. Fothergill,
Peter Collinson, Edmund Burke, the Bishop of St. Asaph and his
gifted daughters, Voltaire, the habitués of the Helvétius salon, the
Marquis de Ségur, the Count de Vergennes, his near neighbors De
Chaumont and Le Veillard, the maire of Passy,- all that we learn of
his achievements, of his conversation, of his daily life, from these or
many other associates of only less prominence in the Old World,
might be written on a single foolscap sheet.
Nor are we under
much greater obligations to his American friends. It is to his own
letters (and except his 'Autobiography,' he can hardly be said to
have written anything in any other than the epistolary form; and
that was written in the form of a letter to his son William, and most
of it only began to be published a quarter of a century after his


## p. 5931 (#519) ###########################################

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
5931
death) that we must turn to learn how full of interest and importance
to mankind was this last half-century of his life. Beyond keeping
copies of his correspondence, which his official character made a duty
as well as a necessity, he appears to have taken no precautions to
insure the posthumous fame to which his correspondence during that
period was destined to contribute so much. Hence, all the biogra-
phies and they are numberless - owe almost their entire interest
and value to his own pen. All, so far as they are biographies, are
autobiographies; and for that reason it may be fairly said that all of
them are interesting.
It is also quite remarkable that though Franklin's life was a con-
tinuous warfare, he had no personal enemies. His extraordinary and
even intimate experience of every phase of human life, from the very
lowest to the very highest, had made him so tolerant that he regarded
differences of opinion and of habits much as he regarded the changes
of the weather, -as good or bad for his purposes, but which, though
he might sometimes deplore, he had no right to quarrel with or
assume personal responsibility for. Hence he never said or did things
personally offensive. The causes that he represented had enemies,
for he was all his life a reformer. All men who are good for any-
thing have such enemies. "I have, as you observe," wrote Franklin
to John Jay the year that he retired from the French mission, "some
enemies in England, but they are my enemies as an American; I
have also two or three in America who are my enemies as a minis-
ter; but I thank God there are not in the whole world any who
are my enemies as a man: for by his grace, through a long life, I
have been enabled so to conduct myself that there does not exist a
human being who can justly say, 'Ben Franklin has wronged me. '
This, my friend, is in old age a comfortable reflection. You too have
or may have your enemies; but let not that render you unhappy. If
you make a right use of them, they will do you more good than
harm. They point out to us our faults; they put us upon our guard
and help us to live more correctly. "
Franklin's place in literature as a writer has not been generally
appreciated, probably because with him writing was only a means,
never an end, and his ends always dwarfed his means, however
effective. He wrote to persuade others, never to parade his literary
skill. He never wrote a dull line, and was never nimious.
The long-
est production of his pen was his autobiography, written during the
closing years of his life. Nearly all that he wrote besides was in the
form of letters, which would hardly average three octavo pages in
length. And yet whatever the subject he touched upon, he never
left the impression of incompleteness or of inconclusiveness. Of him
may be said, perhaps with as much propriety as of any other man,


## p. 5932 (#520) ###########################################

5932
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
that he never said a word too soon, nor a word too late, nor a word
too much. Tons of paper have been devoted to dissuasives from duel-
ing, but the argument was never put more effectively than Frank-
lin put it in these dozen lines of a letter to a Mr. Percival, who had
sent him a volume of literary and moral dissertations.
"A gentleman in a coffee-house desired another to sit further from him.
(Why so? Because you stink. )-(That is an affront, and you must fight
me. ' 'I will fight you if you insist upon it, but I do not see how that will
mend the matter. For if you kill me, I shall stink too; and if I kill you, you
will stink, if possible, worse than at present. How can such miserable sin-
ners as we are, entertain so much pride as to conceit that every offense
against our imagined honor merits death? These petty princes, in their opin-
ion, would call that sovereign a tyrant who should put one of them to death
for a little uncivil language, though pointed at his sacred person; yet every
one of them makes himself judge in his own cause, condemns the offender
without a jury, and undertakes himself to be the executioner. »
Some one wrote him that the people in England were abusing the
Americans and speaking all manner of evil against them. Franklin
replied that this was natural enough:
"They impute to us the evil they wished us. They are angry with us, and
speak all manner of evil of us; but we flourish notwithstanding. They put
me in mind of a violent High Church factor, resident in Boston when I was a
boy. He had bought upon speculation a Connecticut cargo of onions which he
flattered himself he might sell again to great profit; but the price fell, and
they lay upon his hands. He was heartily vexed with his bargain, especially
when he observed they began to grow in his store he had filled with them.
He showed them one day to a friend. Here they are,' said he, 'and they are
growing too. I damn them every day, but I think they are like the Presby-
terians; the more I curse them, the more they grow. >»
Mr. Jefferson tells us that Franklin was sitting by his side in the
convention while the delegates were picking his famous declaration
of Independence to pieces, and seeing how Jefferson was squirming
under their mutilations, comforted him with the following stories, the
rare excellence of which has given them a currency which has long
since worn off their novelty: -
"I have made it a rule,' said he, whenever in my power, to avoid
becoming the draftsman of papers to be reviewed by a public body. I took
my lesson from an incident which I will relate to you.
<<<When I was a journeyman printer, one of my companions, an appren
ticed hatter, having served out his time, was about to open shop for himself.
His first concern was to have a handsome sign-board with the proper inscrip-
tion. He composed it in these words: John Thompson, Hatter, makes and
sells Hats for ready Money, with a figure of a hat subjoined. But he thought
he would submit it to his friends for their amendments. The first he showed


## p. 5933 (#521) ###########################################

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
5933
it to thought the word hatter tautologous, because followed by the words
makes hats, which showed he was a hatter. It was struck out. The next
observed that the word makes might as well be omitted, because his customers
would not care who made the hats; if good and to their mind, they would buy,
by whomsoever made. He struck it out. A third said he thought the words
for ready money were useless, as it was not the custom of the place to sell on
credit: every one who purchased expected to pay. They were parted with,
and the inscription now stood, John Thompson sells hats.
«Sells hats," says
his next friend; "why, nobody will expect you to give them away. What
then is the use of that word? " It was stricken out, and hats followed, the
rather as there was one painted on the board. So his inscription was ulti-
mately reduced to John Thompson, with the figure of a hat subjoined. »»
When the members were about to sign the document, Mr. Han-
cock is reported to have said, "We must be unanimous; there must
be no pulling different ways; we must all hang together. " "Yes,"
replied Franklin, "we must indeed all hang together, or most assur-
edly we shall all hang separately. "
The Doric simplicity of his style; his incomparable facility of con-
densing a great principle into an apologue or an anecdote, many of
which, as he applied them, have become the folk-lore of all nations;
his habitual moderation of statement, his aversion to exaggeration,
his inflexible logic, and his perfect truthfulness,- made him one of
the most persuasive men of his time, and his writings a model which
no one can study without profit. A judicious selection from Frank-
lin's writings should constitute a part of the curriculum of every
college and high school that aspires to cultivate in its pupils a pure
style and correct literary taste.
There was one incident in Franklin's life, which, though more fre-
quently referred to in terms of reproach than any other, will probably
count for more in his favor in the Great Assize than any other of
his whole life. While yet in his teens he became a father before he
was a husband. He never did what men of the loftiest moral pre-
tensions not unfrequently do, shirk as far as possible any personal
responsibility for this indiscretion. On the contrary, he took the
fruit of it to his home; gave him the best education the schools of
the country then afforded. When he went abroad, this son accom-
panied him, was presented as his son wherever he went, was pre-
sented in all the great houses in which he himself was received; he
entered him at the Inns of Court, and in due time had him admitted
to the English bar; made him his private secretary, and at an early
age caused him to be appointed by the Crown, Governor of New
Jersey. The father not only did everything to repair the wrong he
had done his son, but at a time when he was at the zenith of his
fame and official importance, publicly proclaimed it as one of the


## p. 5934 (#522) ###########################################

5934
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
great errors of his life. The world has always abounded with bas-
tards; but with the exception of crowned heads claiming to hold.
their sceptres by Divine right, and therefore beyond the reach of
popular criticism or reproach, it would be difficult to name another
parent of his generation of anything like corresponding eminence
with Franklin, who had the courage and the magnanimity to expiate
such a wrong to his offspring so fully and effectively.
Franklin was not a member of the visible Church, nor did he
ever become the adherent of any sect. He was three years younger
than Jonathan Edwards, and in his youth heard his share of the then
prevailing theology of New England, of which Edwards was regarded,
and perhaps justly, as the most eminent exponent. The extremes to
which Edwards carried those doctrines at last so shocked the people
of Massachusetts that he was rather ignominiously expelled from his
pulpit at Northampton; and the people of Massachusetts, in very con-
siderable proportions, gradually wandered over into the Unitarian
communion. To Jonathan Edwards and the inflexible law of action
and reaction, more than to Priestley or any one else of their genera-
tion, that sect owes to this day its numerical strength, its influence,
and its dignity, in New England. With the creed of that sect Dr.
Franklin had more in common than with any other, though he was
much too wise a man to suppose that there was but one gate of
admission to the Holy City. He believed in one God; that Jesus was
the best man that ever lived, and his example the most profitable
one ever given us to follow. He never succeeded in accepting the
doctrine that Jehovah and Jesus were one person, or that miracles
attributed to the latter in the Bible were ever worked. He thought
the best service and sufficient worship of God was in doing all the
goo ve can to his creatures. He therefore never occupied himself
much with ecclesiastical ceremonies, sectarian differences, or theologi-
cal subtleties. A reverend candidate for episcopal orders wrote to
Franklin, complaining that the Archbishop of Canterbury had refused
to ordain him unless he would take the oath of allegiance, which he
was too patriotic a Yankee to do. Franklin, in reply, asked what
necessity there was for his being connected with the Church of Eng-
land; if it would not be as well were it the Church of Ireland. Per-
haps were he to apply to the Bishop of Derry, who was a man of
liberal sentiments, he might give him orders, as of that Church.
Should both England and Ireland refuse, Franklin assumed that the
Bishops of Sweden and Norway would refuse also, unless the candi-
dates embraced Lutheranism. He then added:-
"Next to becoming Presbyterians, the Episcopalian clergy of America, in
my humble opinion, cannot do better than to follow the example of the first
clergy of Scotland, soon after the conversion of that country to Christianity.


## p. 5935 (#523) ###########################################

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
5935
When the King had built the cathedral of St. Andrew's, and requested the
King of Northumberland to lend his bishops to ordain one for them, that their
clergy might not as heretofore be obliged to go to Northumberland for orders,
and their request was refused, they assembled in the cathedral, and the
mitre, crosier, and robes of a bishop being laid upon the altar, they after
earnest prayers for direction in their choice elected one of their own number;
when the King said to him, "Arise, go to the altar, and receive your office
at the hand of God. " His brethren led him to the altar, robed him, put the
crosier in his hand and the mitre on his head, and he became the first
Bishop of Scotland.
"If the British islands were sunk in the sea (and the surface of this globe
has suffered great changes), you would probably take some such method as
this; and if they persist in denying your ordination, it is the same thing. A
hundred years hence, when people are more enlightened, it will be wondered
at that men in America, qualified by their learning and piety to pray for and
instruct their neighbors, should not be permitted to do it till they had made
a voyage of six thousand miles out and home, to ask leave of a cross old
gentleman at Canterbury. »
Franklin, however, was in no sense an agnostic. What he could
not understand he did not profess to understand or believe; neither
was he guilty of the presumption of holding that what he could not
understand, he might not have understood if he had been a wiser and
better man. Though impatient of cant and hypocrisy, especially in
the pulpit, he never spoke lightly of the Bible, or of the Church and
its offices. When his daughter Sally was about to marry, he wrote
to her: :-
"My dear child, the natural prudence and goodness of heart God has blest
you with, make it less necessary for me to be particular in giving you ad-
vice. I shall therefore only say, that the more attentively dutiful and tender
you are towards your good mamma, the more you will recommend yourself
to me. But why should I mention me, when you have so much higher a
promise in the Commandments, that such conduct will recommend you to the
favor of God? You know I have many enemies, all indeed on the public
account (for I cannot recollect that I have in a private capacity given just
cause of offense to any one whatever): yet they are enemies, and very bitter
ones; and you must expect their enmity will extend in some degree to you,
so that your slightest indiscretions will be magnified into crimes, in order the
more sensibly to wound and afflict me. It is therefore the more necessary for
you to be extremely circumspect in all your behavior, that no advantage may
be given to their malevolence.
"Go constantly to church, whoever preaches. The act of devotion in the
Common Prayer Book is your principal business there, and if properly at-
tended to will do more towards amending the heart than sermons generally
can do. For they were composed by men of much greater piety and wisdom
than our common composers of sermons can pretend to be; and therefore I
wish you would never miss the prayer days: yet I do not mean you should


## p. 5936 (#524) ###########################################

5936
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
despise sermons, even of the preachers you dislike, for the discourse is often
much better than the man, as sweet and clear waters come through very dirty
earth. I am the more particular on this head, as you seemed to express a
little before I came away some inclination to leave our church, which I would
not have you do. "
I cannot more fitly close this imperfect sketch of America's most
illustrious citizen, than by quoting from a touching and most affec-
tionate letter from Mrs. Hewson (Margaret Stevenson),- one of Frank-
lin's worthiest, most faithful, and most valued friends,- addressed to
one of Franklin's oldest friends in England.
"We have lost that valued, venerable, kind friend whose knowledge en-
lightened our minds and whose philanthropy warmed our hearts. But we have
the consolation to think that if a life well spent in acts of universal benevo-
lence to mankind, a grateful acknowledgment of Divine favor, a patient sub-
mission under severe chastisement, and an humble trust in Almighty mercy,
can insure the happiness of a future state, our present loss is his gain.
I was
the faithful witness of the closing scene, which he sustained with that calm
fortitude which characterized him through life. No repining, no peevish ex-
pression ever escaped him during a confinement of two years, in which, I
believe, if every moment of ease could be added together, would not amount
to two whole months. When the pain was not too violent to be amused, he
employed himself with his books, his pen, or in conversation with his friends;
and upon every occasion displayed the clearness of his intellect and the cheer-
fulness of his temper. Even when the intervals from pain were so short that
his words were frequently interrupted, I have known him to hold a discourse
in a sublime strain of piety. I say this to you because I know it will give
you pleasure.
"I never shall forget one day that I passed with our friend last summer.
I found him in bed in great agony; but when that agony abated a little I
asked if I should read to him. He said yes; and the first book I met with
was Johnson's 'Lives of the Poets. I read the Life of Watts,' who was a
favorite author with Dr. Franklin; and instead of lulling him to sleep, it
roused him to a display of the powers of his memory and his reason. He
repeated several of Watts's Lyric Poems, and descanted upon their sub-
limity in a strain worthy of them and of their pious author. It is natural for
us to wish that an attention to some ceremonies had accompanied that religion
of the heart which I am convinced Dr. Franklin always possessed; but let us
who feel the benefit of them continue to practice them, without thinking
lightly of that piety which could support pain without a murmur, and meet
death without terror. »
Franklin made a somewhat more definite statement of his views
on the subject of religion, in reply to an inquiry from President
Styles of Yale College, who expressed a desire to know his opinion
of Jesus of Nazareth. Franklin's reply was written the last year of
his life, and in the eighty-fourth of his age: -


## p. 5937 (#525) ###########################################

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
5937
"You desire to know something of my religion. It is the first time I have
been questioned upon it. But I cannot take your curiosity amiss, and shall
endeavor in a few words to gratify it. Here is my creed. I believe in one
God, the creator of the universe. That he governs it by his Providence. That
he ought to be worshiped. That the most acceptable service we render to
him is doing good to his other children. That the soul of man is immortal,
and will be treated with justice in another life respecting its conduct in this.
These I take to be the fundamental points in all sound religion, and I regard
them as you do in whatever sect I meet with them.
"As to Jesus of Nazareth, my opinion of whom you particularly desire,
I think his system of morals and his religion, as he left them to us, the best
the world ever saw or is like to see; but I apprehend it has received various
corrupting changes, and I have, with most of the present Dissenters in Eng-
land, some doubts as to his Divinity; though it is a question I do not dogma-
tize upon, having never studied it, and think it needless to busy myself with
it now, when I expect soon an opportunity of knowing the truth with less
trouble. I see no harm, however, in its being believed, if that belief has the
good consequence, as probably it has, of making his doctrines more respected
and more observed; especially as I do not perceive that the Supreme takes it
amiss, by distinguishing the unbelievers in his government of the world with
any peculiar marks of his displeasure.
"I shall only add, respecting myself, that, having experienced the goodness
of that Being in conducting me prosperously through a long life, I have no
doubt of its continuance in the next, though without the smallest conceit of
meriting such goodness. My sentiments on this head you will see in the copy
of an old letter inclosed, which I wrote in answer to one from an old religion-
ist whom I had relieved in a paralytic case by electricity, and who, being
afraid I should grow proud upon it, sent me his serious though rather imper-
tinent caution. »
W Bigston
евт
OF FRANKLIN'S FAMILY AND EARLY LIFE
From the Autobiography,' in Bigelow's Edition of Franklin's Works
J
OSIAH, my father, married young, and carried his wife with
three children into New England about 1682. The conven-
ticles having been forbidden by law and frequently dis-
turbed, induced some considerable men of his acquaintance to
remove to that country, and he was prevailed with to accompany
them thither, where they expected to enjoy their mode of reli-
gion with freedom. By the same wife he had four children more
X-372


## p. 5938 (#526) ###########################################

5938
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
born there, and by a second wife ten more, in all seventeen; of
which I remember thirteen sitting at one time at his table, who
all grew up to be men and women, and married. I was the
youngest son and the youngest child but two, and was born in
Boston, New England. My mother, the second wife, was Abiah
Folger, daughter of Peter Folger, one of the first settlers of New
England, of whom honorable mention is made by Cotton Mather
in his church history of that country, entitled 'Magnalia Christi
Americana,' as "a goodly, learned Englishman," if I remember
the words rightly. I have heard that he wrote sundry small
occasional pieces, but only one of them was printed, which I saw
now many years since.
My elder brothers were all put apprentices to different trades.
I was put to the grammar school at eight years of age, my
father intending to devote me, as the tithe of his sons, to the
service of the Church. My early readiness in learning to read
(which must have been very early, as I do not remember when
I could not read), and the opinion of all his friends that I should
certainly make a good scholar, encouraged him in this purpose
of his. My uncle Benjamin too approved of it, and proposed
to give me all his short-hand volumes of sermons,- I
suppose
as a stock to set up with,-if I would learn his character. I
continued, however, at the grammar school not quite one year,
though in that time I had risen gradually from the middle of
the class of that year to be the head of it, and farther was re-
moved into the next class above it, in order to go with that into
the third at the end of the year. But my father in the mean
time, from a view of the expense of a college education, which
having so large a family he could not well afford, and the mean
living many so educated were afterwards able to obtain,― reasons
that he gave to his friends in my hearing,- altered his first
intention, took me from the grammar school, and sent me to a
school for writing and arithmetic, kept by a then famous man,
Mr. George Brownell, very successful in his profession generally,
and that by mild, encouraging methods. Under him I acquired
fair writing pretty soon, but I failed in the arithmetic, and made
no progress in it. At ten years old I was taken home to assist
my father in his business, which was that of a tallow-chandler
and soap-boiler,-a business he was not bred to, but had as-
sumed on his arrival in New England, and on finding his dyeing
trade would not maintain his family, being in little request.
--


## p. 5939 (#527) ###########################################

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
5939
Accordingly I was employed in cutting wick for the candles,
filling the dipping-mold and the molds for cast candles, attending
the shop, going of errands, etc.
I disliked the trade, and had a strong inclination for the sea,
but my father declared against it: however, living near the
water, I was much in and about it, learnt early to swim well
and to manage boats; and when in a boat or canoe with other
boys I was commonly allowed to govern, especially in any case
of difficulty; and upon other occasions I was generally a leader
among the boys, and sometimes led them into scrapes, of which
I will mention one instance, as it shows an early projecting pub-
lic spirit, though not then justly conducted.
There was a salt-marsh that bounded part of the mill-pond,
on the edge of which, at high water, we used to stand to fish
for minnows. By much trampling we had made it a mere quag-
mire. My proposal was to build a wharf there, fit for us to stand.
upon; and I showed my comrades a large heap of stones which
were intended for a new house near the marsh, and which would
very well suit our purpose. Accordingly, in the evening, when
the workmen were gone, I assembled a number of my playfel-
lows, and working with them diligently like so many emmets,
sometimes two or three to a stone, we brought them all away
and built our little wharf. The next morning the workmen
were surprised at missing the stones, which were found in our
wharf. Inquiry was made after the removers; we were discov-
ered and complained of; several of us were corrected by our
fathers, and though I pleaded the usefulness of the work, mine
convinced me that nothing was useful which was not honest.
I continued thus employed in my father's business for two
years, that is, till I was twelve years old; and my brother John,
who was bred to that business, having left my father, mar-
ried, and set up for himself at Rhode Island, there was all
appearance that I was destined to supply his place and become
a tallow-chandler. But my dislike to the trade continuing, my
father was under apprehensions that if he did not find one for
me more agreeable, I should break away and get to sea, as his
son Josiah had done, to his great vexation. He therefore some-
times took me to walk with him, and see joiners, bricklayers,
turners, braziers, etc. , at their work, that he might observe my
inclination, and endeavor to fix it on some trade or other on land.
It has ever since been a pleasure to me to see good workmen


## p. 5940 (#528) ###########################################

5940
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
handle their tools; and it has been useful to me, having learnt
so much by it as to be able to do little jobs myself in my house
when a workman could not readily be got, and to construct little
machines for my experiments, while the intention of making the
experiment was fresh and warm in my mind. My father at
last fixed upon the cutler's trade, and my uncle Benjamin's son
Samuel, who was bred to that business in London, being about
that time established in Boston, I was sent to be with him some
time on liking. But his expectations of a fee with me displeas-
ing my father, I was taken home again.
From a child I was fond of reading, and all the little money
that came into my hands was ever laid out in books. Pleased
with the Pilgrim's Progress,' my first collection was of John
Bunyan's works in separate little volumes. I afterward sold them
to enable me to buy R. Burton's Historical Collections'; they
were small chapmen's books, and cheap, 40 or 50 in all. My
father's little library consisted chiefly of books in polemic divin-
ity, most of which I read, and have since often regretted that at
a time when I had such a thirst for knowledge, more proper
books had not fallen in my way, since it was now resolved I
should not be a clergyman. Plutarch's Lives there was, in which
I read abundantly, and I still think that time spent to great ad-
vantage. There was also a book of De Foe's, called 'An Essay
on Projects,' and another of Dr. Mather's, called 'Essays To Do
Good,' which perhaps gave me a turn of thinking that had an
influence on some of the principal future events of my life.
This bookish inclination at length determined my father to
make me a printer, though he had already one son (James) of
that profession. In 1717 my brother James returned from Eng-
land with a press and letters, to set up his business in Boston.
I liked it much better than that of my father, but still had a
hankering for the sea. To prevent the apprehended effect of
such an inclination, my father was impatient to have me bound
to my brother. I stood out some time, but at last was per-
suaded, and signed the indentures when I was yet but twelve
years old.
I was to serve as an apprentice till I was twenty-one
years of age, only I was to be allowed journeyman's wages dur-
ing the last year. In a little time I made great proficiency in
the business, and became a useful hand to my brother.
I now
had access to better books. An acquaintance with the appren-
tices of booksellers enabled me sometimes to borrow a small


## p. 5941 (#529) ###########################################

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
5941
one, which I was careful to return soon and clean. Often I sat
up in my room reading the greatest part of the night, when the
book was borrowed in the evening and to be returned early in
the morning, lest it should be missed or wanted.
FRANKLIN'S JOURNEY TO PHILADELPHIA: HIS ARRIVAL
THERE
From the Autobiography,' in Bigelow's Edition of Franklin's Works
(
I
PROCEEDED on my journey on foot, having fifty miles to Bur-
lington, where I was told I should find boats that would carry
me the rest of the way to Philadelphia.
It rained very hard all the day; I was thoroughly soaked, and
by noon a good deal tired; so I stopt at a poor inn, where I
stayed all night, beginning now to wish that I had never left
home. I cut so miserable a figure too that I found, by the ques-
tions asked me, I was suspected to be some runaway servant,
and in danger of being taken up on that suspicion. However, I
proceeded the next day, and got in the evening to an inn within
eight or ten miles of Burlington, kept by one Dr. Brown. He
entered into conversation with me while I took some refresh-
ment; and finding I had read a little, became very sociable and
friendly. Our acquaintance continued as long as he lived. He
had been, I imagine, an itinerant doctor, for there was no town
in England or country in Europe of which he could not give a
very particular account. He had some letters, and was ingenious,
but much of an unbeliever, and wickedly undertook, some years
after, to travestie the Bible in doggrel verse, as Cotton had done.
Virgil. By this means he set many of the facts in a very ridicu-
lous light, and might have hurt weak minds if his work had been
published, but it never was.
At his house I lay that night, and the next morning reached
Burlington, but had the mortification to find that the regular
boats were gone a little before my coming, and no other expected
to go before Tuesday, this being Saturday; wherefore I returned
to an old woman in the town, of whom I had bought ginger-
bread to eat on the water, and asked her advice. She invited
me to lodge at her house till a passage by water should offer;
and being tired with my foot-traveling, I accepted the invitation.
She, understanding I was a printer, would have had me stay at


## p. 5942 (#530) ###########################################

5942
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
that town and follow my business, being ignorant of the stock
necessary to begin with. She was very hospitable, gave me a
dinner of ox-cheek with great good-will, accepting only of a pot
of ale in return; and I thought myself fixed till Tuesday should
However, walking in the evening by the side of the river,
a boat came by, which I found was going towards Philadelphia,
with several people in her. They took me in, and as there was
no wind, we rowed all the way; and about midnight, not having
yet seen the city, some of the company were confident we must
have passed it, and would row no farther; the others knew not
where we were; so we put toward the shore, got into a creek,
landed near an old fence, with the rails of which we made a fire,
-the night being cold, in October,- and there we remained till
daylight. Then one of the company knew the place to be Coop-
er's Creek, a little above Philadelphia, which we saw as soon as
we got out of the creek, and arrived there about eight or nine
o'clock on the Sunday morning, and landed at the Market Street
wharf.
I have been the more particular in this description of my
journey, and shall be so of my first entry into that city, that you
may in your mind compare such unlike beginnings with the fig-
ure I have since made there. I was in my working dress, my
best clothes being to come round by sea. I was dirty from
my journey; my pockets were stuffed out with shirts and stock-
ings, and I knew no soul nor where to look for lodging. I was
fatigued with traveling, rowing, and want of rest; I was very
hungry; and my whole stock of cash consisted of a Dutch dollar
and about a shilling in copper. The latter I gave the people of
the boat for my passage, who at first refused it, on account of
my rowing, but I insisted on their taking it; a man being some-
times more generous when he has but a little money than when
he has plenty, perhaps through fear of being thought to have
but little.
Then I walked up the street, gazing about, till near the
market-house I met a boy with bread. I had made many a meal
on bread, and inquiring where he got it, I went immediately to
the baker's he directed me to, in Second Street, and asked for
biscuit, intending such as we had in Boston; but they, it seems,
were not made in Philadelphia. Then I asked for a threepenny
loaf, and was told they had none such. So, not considering or
knowing the difference of money, and the greater cheapness nor


## p. 5943 (#531) ###########################################

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
5943
the names of his bread, I bade him give me threepenny worth of
any sort.
He gave me, accordingly, three great puffy rolls. I
was surprised at the quantity, but took it, and having no room
in my pockets, walked off with a roll under each arm and eat-
ing the other. Thus I went up Market Street as far as Fourth
Street, passing by the door of Mr. Read, my future wife's father;
when she, standing at the door, saw me, and thought I made, as
I certainly did, a most awkward, ridiculous appearance. Then I
turned and went down Chestnut Street and part of Walnut Street,
eating my roll all the way, and coming round found myself again
at Market Street wharf, near the boat I came in, to which I went
for a draught of the river water; and being filled with one of
my rolls, gave the other two to a woman and her child that
came down the river in the boat with us, and were waiting to
go farther.
Thus refreshed, I walked again up the street, which by this
time had many clean-dressed people in it, who were all walking
the same way. I joined them, and thereby was led into the
great meeting-house of the Quakers near the market.
I sat
down among them, and after looking round awhile and hearing
nothing said, being very drowsy through labor and want of rest
the preceding night, I fell fast asleep, and continued so till the
meeting broke up, when one was kind enough to rouse me.
This was therefore the first house I was in, or slept in, in
Philadelphia.
FRANKLIN AS A PRINTER
From the Autobiography,' in Bigelow's Edition of Franklin's Works
I
NOW began to think of getting a little money beforehand, and
expecting better work, I left Palmer's to work at Watts's,
near Lincoln's Inn Fields, a still greater printing-house. Here
I continued all the rest of my stay in London.
At my first admission into this printing-house I took to work-
ing at press, imagining I felt a want of the bodily exercise I had
been used to in America, where presswork is mixed with com-
posing. I drank only water; the other workmen, near fifty in
number, were great guzzlers of beer. On occasion, I carried up
and down stairs a large form of types in each hand, when others.
carried but one in both hands. They wondered to see, from this
and several instances, that the Water American, as they called


## p. 5944 (#532) ###########################################

5944
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
me, was stronger than themselves, who drank strong beer! We
had an alehouse boy, who attended always in the house to sup-
ply the workmen. My companion at the press drank every day
a pint before breakfast, a pint at breakfast with his bread and
cheese, a pint between breakfast and dinner, a pint at dinner, a
pint in the afternoon about six o'clock, and another when he had
done his day's work. I thought it a detestable custom; but it
was necessary, he supposed, to drink strong beer that he might
be strong to labor. I endeavored to convince him that the bodily
strength afforded by beer could only be in proportion to the
grain or flour of the barley dissolved in the water of which it
was made; that there was more flour in a pennyworth of bread;
and therefore, if he would eat that with a pint of water, it
would give him more strength than a quart of beer. He drank
on, however, and had four or five shillings to pay out of his
wages every Saturday night for that muddling liquor; an ex-
pense I was free from. And thus these poor devils keep them-
selves always under.
Watts after some weeks desiring to have me in the composing-
room, I left the pressmen: a new bien venu or sum for drink,
being five shillings, was demanded of me by the compositors. I
thought it an imposition, as I had paid below: the master
thought so too, and forbade my paying it. I stood out two or
three weeks, was accordingly considered as an excommunicate,
and had so many little pieces of private mischief done me, by
mixing my sorts, transposing my pages, breaking my matter,
etc. , etc. , if I were ever so little out of the room,- and all
ascribed to the chappel ghost, which they said ever haunted those
not regularly admitted,- that notwithstanding the master's pro-
tection I found myself obliged to comply and pay the money,
convinced of the folly of being on ill terms with those one is to
live with continually.
I was now on a fair footing with them, and soon acquired
considerable influence. I proposed some reasonable alterations in
their chappel laws, and carried them against all opposition.
From my example, a great part of them left their muddling
breakfast of beer and bread and cheese, finding they could with
me be supplied from a neighboring house with a large porringer
of hot water-gruel sprinkled with pepper, crumbed with bread,
and a bit of butter in it, for the price of a pint of beer; viz. ,
three half-pence. This was a more comfortable as well as cheaper


## p. 5945 (#533) ###########################################

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
5945
+
breakfast, and kept their heads clearer. Those who continued
sotting with beer all day were often, by not paying, out of credit
at the alehouse, and used to make interest with me to get beer;
their light, as they phrased it, being out. I watched the pay-
table on Saturday night, and collected what I stood engaged for
them, having to pay sometimes near thirty shillings a week on
their account. This, and my being esteemed a pretty good rig-
ite,—that is, a jocular verbal satirist,—supported my consequence
in the society. My constant attendance (I never making a St.
Monday) recommended me to the master; and my uncommon
quickness at composing occasioned my being put upon all work
of dispatch, which was generally better paid. So I went on now
very agreeably.
RULES OF HEALTH
From Poor Richard's Almanack: 1742
E
AT and drink such an exact quantity as the constitution of thy
body allows of, in reference to the services of the mind.
They that study much ought not to eat as much as those
that work hard, their digestion being not so good.
The exact quantity and quality being found out, is to be kept
to constantly.
Excess in all other things whatever, as well as in meat and
drink, is also to be avoided.
Youth, age, and sick require a different quantity.
And so do those of contrary complexions; for that which is too
much for a phlegmatic man, is not sufficient for a choleric.
The measure of food ought to be (as much as possibly may
be) exactly proportionable to the quality and condition of the
stomach, because the stomach digests it.
That quantity that is sufficient, the stomach can perfectly con-
coct and digest, and it sufficeth the due nourishment of the body.
A greater quantity of some things may be eaten than of others,
some being of lighter digestion than others.
The difficulty lies in finding out an exact measure; but eat
for necessity, not pleasure: for lust knows not where necessity
ends.
Wouldst thou enjoy a long life, a healthy body, and a vigor-
ous mind, and be acquainted also with the wonderful works of
God, labor in the first place to bring thy appetite to reason.


## p. 5946 (#534) ###########################################

5946
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
THE WAY TO WEALTH
From Poor Richard's Almanack
C
OURTEOUS reader, I have heard that nothing gives an author
so great pleasure as to find his works respectfully quoted
by others. Judge, then, how much I must have been
gratified by an incident I am going to relate to you. I stopped
my horse lately where a great number of people were collected.
at an auction merchants' goods. The hour of the sale not
being come, they were conversing on the badness of the times;
and one of the company called to a plain, clean old man with
white locks: "Pray, Father Abraham, what think you of the
times? Will not these heavy taxes quite ruin the country ? How
shall we ever be able to pay them? What would you advise us
to ? »
Father Abraham stood up and replied, "If you would
have my advice, I will give it you in short; for 'A word to the
wise is enough,' as Poor Richard says. " They joined in desiring
him to speak his mind, and gathering round him, he proceeded
as follows:-
"Friends," said he, "the taxes are indeed very heavy, and if
those laid on by the government were the only ones we had to
pay, we might more easily discharge them; but we have many
others, and much more grievous to some of us. We are taxed
twice as much by our idleness, three times as much by our pride,
and four times as much by our folly; and from these taxes the
commissioners cannot ease or deliver us by allowing an abate-
ment. However, let us hearken to good advice, and something
may be done for us: 'God helps them that help themselves,' as
Poor Richard says.
"Beware of little expenses: 'A small leak will sink a great
ship,' as Poor Richard says; and again, 'Who dainties love, shall
beggars prove; and moreover, Fools make feasts, and wise.
men eat them. '
<
"Here you are all got together at this sale of fineries and
knick-knacks. You call them goods; but if you do not take care,
they will prove evils to some of you. You expect they will be
sold cheap, and perhaps they may, for less than they cost; but
if you have no occasion for them, they must be dear to you.
Remember what Poor Richard says: 'Buy what thou hast no


## p. 5947 (#535) ###########################################

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
5947
need of, and ere long thou shalt sell thy necessaries. ' And
again, At a great pennyworth pause a while. ' He means that
perhaps the cheapness is apparent only and not real; or the bar-
gain, by straitening thee in thy business, may do thee more
harm than good. For in another place he says, 'Many have
been ruined by buying good pennyworths. ' Again, 'It is foolish
to lay out money in a purchase of repentance;' and yet this
folly is practiced every day at auctions, for want of minding the
Almanack. Many a one, for the sake of finery on the back,
have gone with a hungry belly and half starved their families.
'Silks and satins, scarlet and velvets, put out the kitchen fire,' as
Poor Richard says.
"These are not the necessaries of life; they can scarcely be
called the conveniences: and yet, only because they look pretty,
how many want to have them! By these and other extravagances
the genteel are reduced to poverty, and forced to borrow of those
whom they formerly despised, but who through industry and fru-
gality have maintained their standing; in which case it appears
plainly that 'A plowman on his legs is higher than a gentle-
man on his knees,' as poor Richard says. Perhaps they have had
a small estate left them, which they knew not the getting of;
they think, 'It is day, and will never be night;' that a little to
be spent out of so much is not worth minding; but 'Always tak-
ing out of the meal-tub and never putting in, soon comes to the
bottom,' as Poor Richard says; and then, 'When the well is dry,
they know the worth of water. ' But this they might have known
before, if they had taken his advice. 'If you would know the
value of money, go and try to borrow some: for he that goes
a-borrowing goes a-sorrowing,' as Poor Richard says; and indeed,
so does he that lends to such people, when he goes to get it in
again. Poor Dick further advises and says:-
'Fond pride of dress is sure a very curse;
Ere fancy you consult, consult your purse. '
And again, 'Pride is as loud a beggar as Want, and a great
deal more saucy. ' When you have bought one fine thing, you
must buy ten more, that your appearance may be all of a piece;
but Poor Dick says, 'It is easier to suppress the first desire, than
to satisfy all that follow it. ' And it is as truly folly for the poor
to ape the rich, as for the frog to swell in order to equal the
OX.


## p. 5948 (#536) ###########################################

5948
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
'Vessels large may venture more,
But little boats should keep near shore. '
It is however a folly soon punished; for, as Poor Richard says,
'Pride that dines on vanity, sups on contempt. Pride breakfasted
with Plenty, dined with Poverty, and supped with Infamy. ' And
after all, of what use is this pride of appearance, for which so
much is risked, so much is suffered ?