"Popular enough it may be, but error is often popular. The work is illogical, and not altogether in harmony with facts." Benjamin"s criticisms impressed Mr. Watts somewhat, though he thought he was laboring under a mistake.
"Perhaps the trouble is in your own mind, and not in Wollaston"s," he suggested.
"That may be; but I am going to review it for my own satisfaction and benefit," answered Benjamin.
"Then I will suspend judgment until I can read your review," said Mr.
Watts, at the same time being still more surprised that a youth of his age should be so familiar with such topics.
Within a short time Benjamin had his review of "Religion of Nature"
prepared and printed, bearing the somewhat dignified t.i.tle, "A Dissertation on Liberty and Necessity, Pleasure and Pain," and it was inscribed to his friend, James Ralph. A copy was submitted to Mr.
Watts for examination, and his opinion awaited with some anxiety.
"I confess that it is a remarkable production for a youth like you to father--remarkable in its plan, thought, and reasoning--but it is no credit to your principles," Mr. Watts said.
"How so?"
"It is really deistical in its position. You remember that I suggested the trouble might be in yourself, instead of Wollaston; and it is, in my judgment."
"Wherein is my reasoning illogical or incorrect?" Benjamin"s use of the Socratic method of reasoning still adhered to him.
"Any reasoning is illogical and fallacious that takes it for granted that there is no G.o.d," answered Mr. Watts. "Without a G.o.d, we are nowhere; and that is where your pamphlet is. There is ingenuity in it, I grant; but it is false."
"From your standpoint, you mean, Mr. Watts?"
"Yes, if you please; but my standpoint is the Bible. Any reasoning that ignores the Bible is fallacious. To pretend to understand the things of this world without a G.o.d is abominable. "The _fool_ hath said in his heart, There is no G.o.d.""
"Well, you are getting rather personal," Benjamin answered, roguishly.
"I suspect that you are rather puritanical in your notions; but I am not."
"No, that is quite evident; nothing puritanical about your Dissertation, but a plenty that is fanatical," retorted Mr. Watts.
"Much obliged for your opinion, so frankly expressed," added Benjamin, as Mr. Watts turned to answer a call.
A short time after the publication of the foregoing Dissertation, a London surgeon, by the name of Lyons, called at Watts" office.
"Is there a man at work in your printing house by the name of Franklin--Benjamin Franklin?" he inquired of Mr. Watts.
"There is."
"Can I see him?"
"Yes, I will call him."
Benjamin was called and introduced to the gentleman, who said, holding a pamphlet in his hand:
"Are you the author of this "Dissertation on Liberty and Necessity, Pleasure and Pain"?"
"I am, sir." Benjamin had received such a tr.i.m.m.i.n.g from his employer, that he was almost sure the stranger had come to stigmatize him for writing that pamphlet. But he was soon relieved by the remark of Lyons:
"I have read it with great interest, and have been very much profited by it. I did not dream, however, that it was written by so young a person as you are."
Benjamin thanked him for his complimentary words, and the surgeon went on:
"I am the author of the book ent.i.tled, "The Infallibility of Human Judgment," and I think our views harmonize in the main. I should be pleased to loan you a copy if you care to read it."
"It will afford me real pleasure to read it, Doctor Lyons, and I shall appreciate your favor."
"And when you have read it, I shall be glad to meet you, and compare notes, and discuss the topics."
"Nothing will suit me better than that," added Benjamin.
Doctor Lyons frequently called on Benjamin to converse upon the subject-matter of his pamphlet, and, at one time, he says, "He carried me to the Horns, a pale-ale house in ------ Lane, Cheapside, and introduced me to Doctor Mandeville, author of the "Fable of the Bees,"
who had a club there, of which he was the soul, being a most facetious, entertaining companion."
The religion in Benjamin"s pamphlet, and that in Lyons" book, was well suited to a "pale-ale house." It was so _pale_ as scarcely to be discernible in either book or pamphlet--almost entirely faded out.
That was why Benjamin"s pamphlet pleased Lyons so much--the religion in it was not too much for a "pale-ale house."
Doctor Lyons introduced him, also, to one Doctor Pemberton, "at Batson"s Coffee-house," a kindred spirit, whose coffee was stronger than his religion--a quick-witted, lively sort of a man. He was very familiar with Benjamin.
"Glad to know that your mind is interested in subjects of so grave importance," he said. "In a youth of your age it is evidence of a strong mind and expanding intellect."
"Most of my friends do not regard my views with the favor you express; they see evidence, rather, of mental weakness and distortion," said Benjamin in reply.
"It is because they do not investigate for themselves. They are content to receive opinions secondhand, labelled and fixed. How would you like to number Sir Isaac Newton among your friends?" Doctor Pemberton spoke as a man of authority.
"I should feel myself highly honored," answered Benjamin. "Do you know him?"
"I have the honor of his acquaintance; and I will give you an introduction at some future time."
"I shall accept your favor with thanks"; and Benjamin waited and waited for the opportunity, but it never came, probably because Newton could never be found in "an ale-house."
This was the outcome of Benjamin"s literary venture; and the pleasantest part of the whole was that he lived to see the folly of his effort, especially its non-religious character. He became satisfied that Mr. Watts was right when he declared the principles of his Dissertation "abominable."
At another time, while Benjamin worked at Watts", Sir Hans Sloane called upon him,--another notable London character of that day.
Benjamin was taken aback when he met him,--he could scarcely divine what this t.i.tled Englishman could want of him.
"I have heard of you, Mr. Franklin, as recently from America, and I have called to make your acquaintance," he said.
"Glad to meet you, Sir Hans," replied Benjamin, fully equal to the occasion. "I am at your service."
"You are the author of a pamphlet called," and he gave the t.i.tle, "are you?"
"I am."
"I have not read it; but I have heard it discussed, and I concluded that a youth of your age must possess a strong mind to undertake such a treatise. And I understand that you brought many curiosities with you to this country." Now, Sir Hans was getting to the subject that was near to his heart; for he was a curiosity-hunter.
"A few only--very few," replied Benjamin.
"You have a purse, I understand, made of the _asbestos_, which purifies by fire?"