"B. FRANKLIN.
"We all join in respects to Mrs. Shipley."
"_Mrs. Hewson, London._
"Philadelphia, May 6, 1786.
"MY DEAR FRIEND,
"A long winter has pa.s.sed, and I have not had the pleasure of a line from you, acquainting me with your and your childrens" welfare, since I left England. I suppose you have been in Yorkshire, out of the way and knowledge of opportunities, for I will not think you have forgotten me.
To make me some amends, I received a few days past a large packet from Mr. Williams, dated September, 1776, near ten years since, containing three letters from you, one of December 12, 1775. This packet had been received by Mr. Bache after my departure for France, lay dormant among his papers during all my absence, and has just now broke out upon me _like words_ that had been, as somebody says, _congealed in Northern air_. Therein I find all the pleasing little family history of your children; how William had began to spell, overcoming by strength of memory all the difficulty occasioned by the common wretched alphabet, while you were convinced of the utility of our new one. How Tom, genius-like, struck out new paths, and, relinquishing the old names of the letters, called U _bell_ and P _bottle_. How Eliza began to grow jolly, that is, fat and handsome, resembling Aunt Rooke, whom I used to call _my lovely_. Together with all the _then_ news of Lady Blunt"s having produced at length a boy; of Dolly"s being well, and of poor good Catharine"s decease. Of your affairs with Muir and Atkinson, and of their contract for feeding the fish in the Channel. Of the Vinys, and their jaunt to Cambridge in the long carriages. Of Dolly"s journey to Wales with Mr. Scot. Of the Wilkeses, the Pearces, Elphinston, &c., &c.
Concluding with a kind promise that, as soon as the ministry and Congress agreed to make peace, I should have you with me in America.
That peace has been some time made, but, alas! the promise is not yet fulfilled. And why is it not fulfilled?
"I have found my family here in health, good circ.u.mstances, and well respected by their fellow-citizens. The companions of my youth are indeed almost all departed, but I find an agreeable society among their children and grandchildren. I have public business enough to preserve me from _ennui_, and private amus.e.m.e.nt besides, in conversation, books, and my garden. Considering our well-furnished plentiful market as the best of gardens, I am turning mine, in the midst of which my house stands, into gra.s.splats and gravel-walks, with trees and flowering shrubs. * * *
"Temple has turned his thoughts to agriculture, which he pursues ardently, being in possession of a fine farm that his father lately conveyed to him. Ben is finishing his studies at college, and continues to behave as well as when you knew him, so that I still think he will make you a good son. His younger brothers and sisters are also all promising, appearing to have good tempers and dispositions, as well as good const.i.tutions. As to myself, I think my general health and spirits rather better than when you saw me, and the particular malady I then complained of continues tolerable. With sincere and very great esteem, I am ever, my dear friend, yours most affectionately,
"B. FRANKLIN."
"_To M. Veillard._
"Philadelphia, April 15, 1787
"MY DEAR FRIEND,
"I am quite of your opinion, that our independence is not quite complete till we have discharged our public debt. This state is not behindhand in its proportion, and those who are in arrear are actually employed in contriving means to discharge their respective balances; but they are not all equally diligent in the business, nor equally successful; the whole will, however, be paid, I am persuaded, in a few years.
"The English have not yet delivered up the posts on our frontier agreeable to treaty; the pretence is, that our merchants here have not paid their debts. I was a little provoked when I first heard this, and I wrote some remarks upon it, which I send you: they have been written near a year, but I have not yet published them, being unwilling to encourage any of our people who may be able to pay in their neglect of that duty. The paper is therefore only for your amus.e.m.e.nt, and that of our excellent friend the Duke de la Rochefoucauld.
"As to my malady, concerning which you so kindly inquire, I have never had the least doubt of its being the stone, and I am sensible that it has increased; but, on the whole, it does not give me more pain than when at Pa.s.sy. People who live long, who will drink of the cup of life to the very bottom, must expect to meet with some of the usual dregs; and when I reflect on the number of terrible maladies human nature is subject to, I think myself favoured in having to my share only the stone and gout.
"You were right in conjecturing that I wrote the remarks on the "_thoughts concerning executive justice_." I have no copy of these remarks at hand, and forget how the saying was introduced, that it is better a thousand guilty persons should escape than one innocent suffer.
Your criticisms thereon appear to be just, and I imagine you may have misapprehended my intention in mentioning it. I always thought with you, that the prejudice in Europe, which supposes a family dishonoured by the punishment of one of its members, was very absurd, it being, on the contrary, my opinion, that a rogue hanged out of a family does it more honour than ten that live in it.
B. FRANKLIN."
"_Mr. Jordain._
"Philadelphia, May 18, 1787.
"DEAR SIR,
"I received your very kind letter of February 27, together with the cask of porter you have been so good as to send me. We have here at present what the French call _une a.s.semblee des notables_, a convention composed of some of the princ.i.p.al people from the several states of our confederation. They did me the honour of dining with me last Wednesday, when the cask was broached, and its contents met with the most cordial reception and universal approbation. In short, the company agreed unanimously that it was the best porter they had ever tasted. Accept my thanks, a poor return, but all I can make at present.
"Your letter reminds me of many happy days we have pa.s.sed together, and the dear friends with whom we pa.s.sed them; some of whom, alas! have left us, and we must regret their loss, although our Hawkesworth[33] is become an adventurer in more happy regions; and our Stanley[34] gone, "where only his own _harmony_ can be exceeded." You give me joy in telling me that you are "on the pinnacle of _content_." Without it no situation can be happy; with it, any. One means of becoming content with one"s situation is the comparing it with a worse Thus, when I consider how many terrible diseases the human body is liable to, I comfort myself that only three incurable ones have fallen to my share, the gout, the stone, and old age; and that these have not yet deprived me of my natural cheerfulness, my delight in books, and enjoyment of social conversation.
[33] John Hawkesworth, LL.D., author of the Adventurer, and compiler of the account of the Discoveries made in the South Seas by Captain Cook.
[34] John Stanley, an eminent musician and composer, though he became blind at the age of two years.
"I am glad to hear that Mr. Fitzmaurice is married, and has an amiable lady and children. It is a better plan than that he once proposed, of getting Mrs. Wright to make him a waxwork wife to sit at the head of his table. For, after all, wedlock is the natural state of man. A bachelor is not a complete human being. He is like the odd half of a pair of scissors, which has not yet found its fellow, and, therefore, is not even half so useful as they might be together.
"I hardly know which to admire most, the wonderful discoveries made by Herschel, or the indefatigable ingenuity by which he has been enabled to make them. Let us hope, my friend, that, when free from these bodily embarra.s.sments, we may roam together through some of the systems he has explored, conducted by some of our old companions already acquainted with them. Hawkesworth will enliven our progress with his cheerful, sensible converse, and Stanley accompany the music of the spheres.
"Mr. Watraaugh tells me, for I immediately inquired after her, that your daughter is alive and well. I remember her a most promising and beautiful child, and therefore do not wonder that she is grown, as he says, a fine woman.
"G.o.d bless her and you, my dear friend, and everything that pertains to you, is the sincere prayer of yours most affectionately,
"B. FRANKLIN, "In his 82d year."
"_To Miss Hubbard._
"I condole with you. We have lost a most dear and valuable relation. But it is the will of G.o.d and nature that these mortal bodies be laid aside, when the soul is to enter into real life. This is rather an embryo state, a preparation for living. A man is not completely born until he be dead. Why, then, should we grieve that a new child is born among the immortals, a new member added to their happy society? We are spirits.
That bodies should be lent us while they can afford us pleasure, to a.s.sist us in acquiring knowledge, or doing good to our fellow-creatures, is a kind and benevolent act of G.o.d. When they become unfit for these purposes, and afford us pain instead of pleasure, instead of an aid become an enc.u.mbrance, and answer none of the intentions for which they were given, it is equally kind and benevolent that a way is provided by which we may get rid of them. Death is that way. We ourselves, in some cases, prudently choose a partial death. A mangled, painful limb, which cannot be restored, we willingly cut off. He who plucks out a tooth, parts with it freely, since the pain goes with it; and he who quits the whole body, parts at once with all pains, and possibilities of pains and diseases it was liable to, or capable of making him suffer.
"Our friend and we were invited abroad on a party of pleasure which is to last for ever. His chair was ready first, and he is gone before us.
We could not all conveniently start together; and why should you and I be grieved at this, since we are soon to follow, and know where to find him?
"Adieu, B. FRANKLIN."
"_To George Wheatley._
"Philadelphia, May 18, 1787.
"I received duly my good old friend"s letter of the 19th of February. I thank you much for your notes on banks; they are just and solid, as far as I can judge of them. Our bank here has met with great opposition, partly from envy, and partly from those who wish an emission of more paper money, which they think the bank influence prevents. But it has stood all attacks, and went on well, notwithstanding the a.s.sembly repealed its charter. A new a.s.sembly has restored it, and the management is so prudent that I have no doubt of its continuing to go on well: the dividend has never been less than six per cent., nor will that be augmented for some time, as the surplus profit is reserved to face accidents. The dividend of eleven per cent., which was once made, was from a circ.u.mstance scarce unavoidable. A new company was proposed, and prevented only by admitting a number of new partners. As many of the first set were averse to this and chose to withdraw, it was necessary to settle their accounts; so all were adjusted, the profits shared that had been acc.u.mulated, and the new and old proprietors jointly began on a new and equal footing. Their notes are always instantly paid on demand, and pa.s.s on all occasions as readily as silver, because they will produce silver.
"Your medallion is in good company; it is placed with those of Lord Chatham, Lord Camden. Marquis of Rockingham, Sir George Saville, and some others who honoured me with a show of friendly regard when in England. I believe I have thanked you for it, but I thank you again.
"I believe with you, that if our plenipo. is desirous of concluding a treaty of commerce, he may need patience. If I were in his place and not otherwise instructed, I should be apt to say "take your own time, gentlemen." If the treaty cannot be made as much to your advantage as ours, don"t make it. I am sure the want of it is not more to our disadvantage than to yours. Let the merchants on both sides treat with one another. _Laissez les faire._
"I have never considered attentively the Congress"s scheme for coining, and I have it not now at hand, so that at present I can say nothing to it. The chief uses of coining seem to be the ascertaining the fineness of the metals, and saving the time that would otherwise be spent in weighing to ascertain the quant.i.ty. But the convenience of fixed values to pieces is so great as to force the currency of some whose stamp is worn off, that should have a.s.sured their fineness, and which are evidently not of half their due weight; the case at present with the sixpences in England, which, one with another, do not weigh threepence.
"You are now 78, and I am 82; you tread fast upon my heels; but, though you have more strength and spirit, you cannot come up with me until I stop, which must now be soon; for I am grown so old as to have buried most of the friends of my youth; and I now often hear persons whom I knew when children, called _old_ Mr. Such-a-one, to distinguish them from their sons, now men grown and in business; so that, by living twelve years beyond David"s period, I seem to have intruded myself into the company of posterity when I ought to have been abed and asleep. Yet, had I gone at seventy, it would have cut off twelve of the most active years of my life, employed, too, in matters of the greatest importance; but whether I have been doing good or mischief is for time to discover.
I only know that I intended well, and I hope all will end well.
"Be so good as to present my affectionate respects to Dr. Riley. I am under great obligations to him, and shall write to him shortly. It will be a pleasure to him to know that my malady does not grow sensibly worse, and that is a great point; for it has always been so tolerable as not to prevent my enjoying the pleasures of society, and being cheerful in conversation; I owe this in a great measure to his good counsels.