1840 SELECTIONS FROM FRANKLIN'S MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS by Benjamin Franklin şiElectronically Enhanced Text (c) Copyright 1996, World Library(R) DAK Upgraded Edition, Copyright 2000, DAK Industries 2000, Inc(R)şI {TO_GEORGE_WHITEFIELD_ON_FAITH_AND_GOOD_WORKS To George Whitefield, On Faith and Good Words FOR my own part, when I am employed in serving others, I do not look upon myself as conferring favors, but as paying debts. In my travels, and, since my settlement, I have received much kindness from men, to whom I shall never have any opportunity of making the least direct return; and numberless mercies from God, who is infinitely above being benefited by our services. Those kindnesses from men, I can therefore only return on their fellow men, and I can only show my gratitude for these mercies from God, by a readiness to help his other children and my brethren. For I do not think that thanks and compliments, though repeated weekly, can discharge our real obligations to each other, and much less those to our Creator. You will see in this my notion of good works, that I am far from expecting to merit heaven by them. By heaven we understand a state of happiness, infinite in degree, and eternal in duration. I can do nothing to deserve such rewards. He that, for giving a draft of water to a thirsty person, should expect to be paid with a good plantation, would be modest in his demands, compared with those who think they deserve heaven for the little good they do on earth. Even the mixed, imperfect pleasures we enjoy in this world, are rather from God's goodness than our merit; how much more such happiness of heaven! For my part I have not the vanity to think I deserve it, the folly to expect it, nor the ambition to desire it; but content myself in submitting to the will and disposal of that God who made me, who has hitherto preserved and blessed me, and in whose fatherly goodness I may well confide, that he will never make me miserable, and that even the afflictions I may at any time suffer shall tend to my benefit. The faith you mention has certainly its use in the world. I do not desire to see it diminished, nor would I endeavor to lessen it in any man. But I wish it were more productive of good works, than I have generally seen it; I mean real good works; works of kindness, charity, mercy, and public spirit; not holiday-keeping, sermon-reading or hearing; performing church ceremonies, or making long prayers, filled with flatteries and compliments, despised even by wise men, and much less capable of pleasing the Deity. The worship of God is a duty; the hearing and reading of sermons may be useful; but if men rest in hearing and praying, as too many do, it is as if a tree should value itself on being watered and putting forth leaves, though it never produced any fruit. Your great master thought much less of these outward appearances and professions, than many of his modern disciples. He preferred the doers of the word, to the mere hearers; the son that seemingly refused to obey his father, and yet performed his commands, to him that professed his readiness, but neglected the work; the heretical but charitable Samaritan, to the uncharitable though orthodox priest and sanctified Levite; and those who gave food to the hungry, drink to the thirsty, raiment to the naked, entertainment to the stranger, and relief to the sick, though they never heard of his name, he declares shall in the last day be ac- cepted; when those who cry Lord,! Lord ! who value themselves upon their faith, though great enough to perform miracles, but have neglected good works, shall be rejected. He professed, that he came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance; which implied his modest opinion, that there were some in his time so good, that they need not hear even him for improvement; but now-a-days we have scarce a little parson, that does not think it the duty of every man within his reach to sit under his petty ministrations; and that whoever omits them offends God. I wish to such more humility, and to you health and happiness, being your friend and servant, B. FRANKLIN PHILADELPHIA, 6, June, 1753. {TO_JOSEPH_PRIESTLEY_WITH_A_METHOD_OF_DECIDING_DOUBTFUL_MATTERS To Joseph Priestley With a Method of Deciding Doubtful Matters IN the affair of so much importance to you, wherein you ask my advice, I cannot, for want of sufficient premises, counsel you what to determine; but, if you please, I will tell you how. When those difficult, cases occur, they are difficult, chiefly because, while we have them under consideration, all the reasons pro and con are not present to the mind at the same time; but sometimes one set present themselves, and at other times another, the first being out of sight. Hence the various purposes or inclinations that alternately prevail, and the uncertainty that perplexes us. To get over this, my way is, to divide half a sheet of paper by a line into two columns; writing over the one pro and over the other con; then during three or four days' consideration, I put down under the different heads short hints of the different motives, that at different times occur to me for or against the measure. When I have thus got them all together in one view, I endeavor to estimate their respective weights; and, where I find two (one on each side), that seem equal, I strike them both out. If I find a reason pro equal to, some two reasons con, I strike out the three. If I judge some two reasons con, equal to some three reasons pro, I strike out the five; and thus proceeding I find at length where the balance lies; and if, after a day or two of farther consideration, nothing new that is of importance occurs on either side, I come to a determination accordingly. And, though the weight of reasons cannot be taken with the precision of algebraic quantities, yet, when each is thus considered separately and comparatively, and the whole lies before me, I think I can judge better, and am less liable to make a rash step; and in fact I have found great advantage from this kind of equation, in what may be called moral or prudential algebra. B. FRANKLIN. LONDON, 19 September 1772. {TO_WILLIAM_STRAHAN_AFTER_THE_WAR_HAD_BEGUN To William Strahan, After the War Had Begun MR. STRAHAN, YOU are a member of Parliament, and one of that majority, which has doomed my country to destruction. You have begun to burn our towns and murder our people. Look upon your hands, they are stained with the blood of your relations! You and I were long friends; you are now my enemy, and I am Yours, B. FRANKLIN PHILADELPHIA, 5 July, 1775. {TO_HIS_DAUGHTER_MRS_SARAH_BACHE_ON_HEREDITARY_TITLES_AND_HONORS To His Daughter, Mrs. Sarah Bache, On Hereditary Titles and Honors OUR care in sending me the newspapers is very agreeable to me. I received by Captain Barney those relating to the Cincinnati. My opinion of the institution cannot be of much importance; I only wonder that, when the united wisdom of our nation had, in the articles of confederation, manifested their dislike of establishing ranks of nobility, by authority either of the Congress or of any particular State, a number of private persons should think proper to distinguish themselves and their posterity, from their fellow citizens, and form an order of hereditary knights, in direct opposition to the solemnly declared sense of their country! I imagine it must be likewise contrary to the good sense of most of those drawn into it by the persuasion of its projectors, who have been too much struck with the ribands and crosses they have seen hanging to the buttonholes of foreign officers. And I suppose those, who disapprove of it, have not hitherto given it much opposition, from a principle somewhat like that of your good mother, relating to punctilious persons, who are always exacting little observances of respect; that, "if people can be pleased with small matters, it is a pity but they should have them." In this view, perhaps, I should not myself, if my advice had been asked, have objected to their wearing their riband and badge themselves according to their fancy, though I certainly should to the entailing it as an honor on their posterity. For honor, worthily obtained (as that for example of our officers), is in its nature a personal thing, and incommunicable to any but those who had some share in obtaining it. Thus among the Chinese, the most ancient, and from long experience the wisest of nations, honor does not descend, but ascends. If a man from his learning, his wisdom, or his valor, is promoted by the Emperor to the rank of Mandarin, his parents are immediately entitled to all the same ceremonies of respect from the people, that are established as due to the Mandarin himself: on the supposition that it must have been owing to the education, instruction, and good example afforded him by his parents, that he was rendered capable of serving the public. This ascending honor is therefore useful to the state, as it encourages parents to give their children a good and virtuous education. But the descending honor, to a posterity who could have no share in obtaining it, is not only groundless and absurd, but often hurtful to that posterity, since it is apt to make them proud, disdaining to be employed in useful arts, and thence falling into poverty, and all the meannesses, servility, and wretchedness attending it; which is the present case with much of what is called the noblesse in Europe. Or if, to keep up the dignity, of the family, estates are entailed entire on the eldest male heir, another pest to industry and improvement of the country is introduced, which will be followed by all the odious mixture of pride, and beggary, and idleness, that have half depopulated and decultivated Spain; occasioning continual extinction of families by the discouragements of marriage, and neglect in the improvement of estates. I wish, therefore, that the Cincinnati, if they must go on with their project, would direct the badges of their order to be worn by their fathers and mothers, instead of handing them down to their children. It would be a good precedent, and might have good effects. It would also be a kind of obedience to the fourth commandment, in which God enjoins us to honor our father and mother, but has nowhere directed us to honor our children. And certainly no mode of honoring those immediate authors of our being can be more effectual than that of doing praiseworthy actions, which reflect honor on those who gave us our education; or more becoming than that of manifesting, by some public expression or token, that it is to their instruction and example we ascribe the merit of those actions. But the absurdity of descending honors is not a mere matter of philosophical opinion; it is capable of mathematical demonstration. A man's son, for instance, is but half of his family, the other half belonging to the family of his wife. His son, too, marrying into another family, his share in the grandson is but a fourth; in the great grandson, by the same process, it is but an eighth; in the next generation a sixteenth; the next a thirty-second; the next a sixty-fourth; the next an hundred and twenty-eighth; the next a two hundred and fifty-sixth; and the next a five hundred and twelfth; thus in nine generations, which will not require more than three hundred years (no very great antiquity for a family), our present Chevalier of the Order of Cincinnatus's share in the then existing knight will be but a five hundred and twelfth part; which, allowing the present certain fidelity of American wives to be insured down through all those nine generations, is so small a consideration, that methinks no reasonable man would hazard for the sake of it the disagreeable consequences of the jealousy, envy, and ill will of his countrymen. Let us go back with our calculation from this young noble, the five hundred and twelfth part of the present knight, through his nine generations, till we return to the year of the institution. He must have had a father and mother, they are two; each of them had a father and mother, they are four. Those of the next preceding generation will be eight, the next sixteen, the next thirty-two, the next sixty-four, the next one hundred and twenty-eight, the next two hundred and fifty-six, and the ninth in this retrocession five hundred and twelve, who must be now existing, and all contribute their proportion of this future Chevalier de Cincinnatus. These, with the rest, make together as follows: 2 + 4 + 8 + 16 + 32 + 64 + 128 + 256 + 512 = 1022. One thousand and twenty-two men and women, contributors to the formation of one knight. And, if we are to have a thousand of these future knights, there must be now and hereafter existing one million and twenty-two thousand fathers and mothers, who are to contribute to their production, unless a part of the number are employed in making more knights than one. Let us strike off then the twenty-two thousand, on the supposition of this double employ, and then consider whether, after a reasonable estimation of the number of rogues, and fools, and scoundrels and prostitutes, that are mixed with, and help to make up necessarily their million of predecessors, posterity, will have much reason to boast of the noble blood of the then existing set of Chevaliers of Cincinnatus. The future genealogists, too, of these Chevaliers, in proving the lineal descent of their honor through so many generations (even supposing honor capable in its nature of descending), will only prove the small share of this honor, which can be justly claimed by any one of them; since the above simple process in arithmetic makes it quite plain and clear, that, in proportion as the antiquity, of the family shall augment, the right to the honor of the ancestor will diminish; and a few generations more would reduce it to something so small as to be very near an absolute nullity. I hope, therefore, that the Order will drop this part of their project, and content themselves, as the Knights of the Garter, Bath, Thistle, St. Louis, and other Orders of Europe do, with a life enjoyment of their little badge and riband, and let the distinction die with those who have merited it. This I imagine will give no offence. For my own part, I shall think it a convenience, when I go into a company where there may be faces unknown to me, if I discover, by this badge, the persons who merit some particular expression of my respect; and it will save modest virtue the trouble of calling for our regard, by awkward roundabout intimations of having been heretofore employed as officers in the Continental service. B. FRANKLIN. PASSY, 26 January, 1784. {TO_SAMUEL_MATHER_WITH_BIOGRAPHICAL_ANECDOTES To Samuel Mather, With Biographical Anecdotes I RECEIVED your kind letter, with your excellent advice to the people of the United States, which I read with great pleasure, and hope it will be duly regarded. Such writings, though they may be lightly passed over by many readers, yet, if they make a deep impression on one active mind in a hundred, the effects may be considerable. Permit me to mention one little instance, which though it relates to myself, will not be quite uninteresting to you. When I was a boy, I met with a book, entitled "Essays to do Good," which I think was written by your father. It had been so little regarded by a former possessor, that several leaves of it were torn out; but the remainder gave me such a turn of thinking, as to have an influence on my conduct through life; for I have always set a greater value on the character of a doer of good, than on any other kind of reputation; and if I have been, as you seem to think, a useful citizen, the public owes the advantage of it to that book. You mention your being in your seventy-eighth year; I am in my seventy-ninth; we are grown old together. It is now more than sixty years since I left Boston, but I remember well both your father and grandfather, having heard them both in the pulpit and seen them in their houses. The last time I saw your father was in the beginning of 1724, when I visited him after my first trip to Pennsylvania. He received me in his library, and on my taking leave showed me a shorter way out of the house through a narrow passage, which was crossed by a beam overhead. We were still talking as I withdrew, he accompanying me behind, and I turning partly towards him, when he said hastily, "Stoop, stoop!" I did not understand him, till I felt my head hit against the beam. He was a man that never missed any occasion of giving instruction, and upon this he said to me, "You are young, and have the world before you; STOOP as you go through it, and you will miss many hard thumps." This advice, thus beat into my head, has frequently been of use to me; and I often think of it, when I see pride mortified, and misfortunes brought upon people by their carrying their heads too high. B. FRANKLIN. PASSY, 12 May, 1784. {TO_GEORGE_WHATLEY_WITH_MORAL_AND_PHILOSOPHICAL_REFLECTIONS To George Whatley, With Moral and Philosophical Reflections I AM not acquainted with the saying of Alphonsus, which you allude to as a sanctification of your rigidity, in refusing to allow me the plea of old age, as an excuse for my want of exactness in correspondence. What was that saying? You do not, it seems, feel any occasion for such an excuse, though you are, as you, say, rising seventy-. But I am rising (perhaps more properly falling) eighty, and I leave the excuse with you till you arrive at that age; perhaps you may then be more sensible of its validity, and see fit to use it for yourself. I must agree with you, that the gout is bad, and that the stone is worse. I am happy in not having them both together, and I join in your prayer, that you may live till you die without either. But I doubt the author of the epitaph you send me was a little mistaken, when he, speaking of the world, says, that "he ne'er cared a pin What they said or may say of the mortal within." It is so natural to wish to be well spoken of, whether alive or dead, that I imagine he could not be quite exempt from that desire; and that at least he wished to be thought a wit, or he would not have given himself the trouble of writing so good an epitaph to leave behind him. Was it not as worthy of his care, that the world should say he was an honest and a good man? I like better the concluding sentiment in the old song, called The Old Man's Wish, wherein, after wishing for a warm house in a country town, an easy horse, some good authors, ingenious and cheerful companions, a pudding on Sundays, with stout ale, and a bottle of Burgundy, etc,, etc., in separate stanzas, each ending with this burthen, "May I govern my passions with absolute sway, Grow wiser and better as my strength wears away, Without gout or stone, by a gentle decay;" he adds, "With a courage undaunted may I face my last day, And, when I am gone, may the better sort say, In the morning when sober, in the evening when mellow; He's gone, and has not left behind him his fellow; For he governed his passions," &c. But what signifies our wishing? Things happen, after all, as they will happen. I have sung that wishing song a thousand times, when I was young, and now find, at fourscore, that the three contraries have befallen me, being subject to the gout and the stone, and not being yet master of all my passions. Like the proud girl in my country, who wished and resolved not to marry a parson, nor a Presbyterian, nor, an Irishman; and at length found herself married to an Irish Presbyterian parson. You see I have some reason to wish, that, in a future state, I may not only be as well as I was, but a little better. And I hope it; for I, too, with your poet, trust in God. And when I observe, that there is great frugality, as well as wisdom, in his works, since he has been evidently sparing both of labor and materials; for by the various wonderful inventions of propagation, he has provided for the continual peopling his world with plants and animals, without being at the trouble of repeated new creations; and by the natural reduction of compound substances to their original elements, capable of being employed in new compositions, he has prevented the necessity of creating new matter; so that the earth, water, air, and perhaps fire, which being compounded form wood, do, when the wood is dissolved, return, and again become air, earth, fire, and water; I say, that, when I see nothing annihilated, and not even a drop of water wasted, I cannot suspect the annihilation of souls, or believe, that he will suffer the daily waste of millions of minds ready made that now exist, and put himself to the continual trouble of making new ones. Thus finding myself to exist in the world, I believe I shall, in some shape or other, always exist; and, with all the inconveniences human life is liable to, I shall not object to a new edition of mine; hoping, however, that the errata of the last may be corrected. B. FRANKLIN. PASSY, 23 May, 1785. {TO_MRS_JANE_MECOM_ON_GOOD_AND_BAD_SPELLING To Mrs. Jane Mecom, On Good and Bad Spelling YOU need not be concerned, in writing to me, about your bad spelling; for, in my opinion, as our alphabet now stands, the bad spelling, or what is called so, is generally the best, as conforming to the sound of the letters and of the words. To give you an instance. A gentleman received a letter, in which were these words,-Not finding Brown at hom, I delivered your meseg to his yf. The gentleman finding it bad spelling, and therefore not very intelligible, called his lady to help him read it. Between them they picked out the meaning of all but the yf, which they could not understand. The lady proposed calling her chambermaid, because Betty, says she, has the best knack at reading bad spelling of any one I know. Betty came, and was surprised, that neither Sir nor Madam could tell what yf was. "Why," says she, "y f spells wife; what else can it spell?" And, indeed, it is a much better, as well as shorter method of spelling wife, than doubleyou, i, ef, e, which in reality spell doubleyifey. B. FRANKLIN. PHILADELPHIA, 4 July, 1786. {TO_THOMAS_PAINE_DISSUADING_HIM_FROM_PUBLISHING_A_CERTAIN_WORK To Thomas Paine, Dissuading Him From Publishing a Certain Work I HAVE read your manuscript with some attention. By the argument it contains against a particular Providence, though you allow a general Providence, you strike at the foundations of all religion. For without the belief of a Providence, that takes cognizance of, guards, and guides, and may favor particular persons, there is no motive to worship a Deity, to fear his displeasure, or to pray for his protection. I will not enter into any discussion of your principles, though you seem to desire it. At present I shall only give you my opinion, that, though your reasonings are subtile, and may prevail with some readers, you will not succeed so as to change the general sentiments of mankind on that subject, and the consequence of printing this piece will be, a great deal of odium drawn upon yourself, mischief to you, and no benefit to others. He that spits against the wind, spits in his own face. But, were you to succeed, do you imagine any good would be done by it? You yourself may find it easy to live a virtuous life, without the assistance afforded by religion; you having a clear perception of the advantages of virtue, and the disadvantages of vice, and possessing a strength of resolution sufficient to enable you to resist common temptations. But think how great a portion of mankind consists of weak and ignorant men and women, and of inexperienced, inconsiderate youth of both sexes, who have need of the motives of religion to restrain them from vice, to support their virtue, and retain them in the practice of it till it becomes habitual, which is the great point for its security. And perhaps you are indebted to her originally, that is, to your religious education, for the habits of virtue upon which you now justly value yourself. You might easily display your excellent talents of reasoning upon a less hazardous subject, and thereby obtain a rank with our most distinguished authors. For among us it is not necessary, as among the Hottentots, that a youth, to be raised into the company of men, should prove his manhood by beating his mother. I would advise you, therefore, not to attempt unchaining the tiger, but to burn this piece before it is seen by any other person; whereby you will save yourself a great deal of mortification by the enemies it may raise against you, and perhaps a good deal of regret and repentance. If men are so wicked with religion, what would they be if without it. I intend this letter itself as a proof of my friendship, and therefore add no professions to it; but subscribe simply yours, B. FRANKLIN. DATE uncertain. {TO_NOAH_WEBSTER_ON_NEW_FANGLED_MODES_OF_WRITINE_AND_PRINTING To Noah Webster, On New-Fangled Modes of Writing and Printing I CANNOT but applaud your zeal for preserving the purity of our language, both in its expressions and pronunciation, and in correcting the popular errors several of our States are continually falling into with respect to both. Give me leave to mention some of them, though possibly they may have already occurred to you. I wish, however, in some future publication of yours, you would set a discountenancing mark upon them. The first I remember is the word improved. When I left New England, in the year 1723, this word had never been used among us, as far as I know, but in the sense of ameliorated or made better, except once in a very old book of Dr. Mather's, entitled Remarkable Providences. As that eminent man wrote a very obscure hand, I remember that when I read that word in his book, used instead of the word imployed, I conjectured it was an error of the printer, who had mistaken a too short l in the writing for an r, and a y with too short a tail for a v; whereby imployed was converted into improved. But when I returned to Boston, in 1733, I found this change had obtained favor, and was then become common; for I met with it often in perusing the newspapers, where it frequently made an appearance rather ridiculous. Such, for instance, as the advertisement of a country-house to be sold, which had been many years improved as a tavern; and, in the character of a deceased country gentleman, that he had been for more than thirty years improved as a justice of the peace. This use of the word improved is peculiar to New England, and not to be met with among any other speakers of English, either on this or the other side of the water. During my late absence in France, I find that several other new words have been introduced into our parliamentary language; for example, I find a verb formed from the substantive notice; I should not have NOTICED this, were it not that the gentleman, etc. Also another verb from the substantive advocate; The gentleman who ADVOCATES or has ADVOCATED that motion, &c. Another from the substantive progress, the most awkward and abominable of the three; The committee, having PROGRESSED, resolved to adjourn. The word opposed, though not a new word, I find used in a new mannerfive , as, The gentlemen who are OPPOSED to this measure; to which I have also myself always been OPPOSED. If you should happen to be of my opinion with respect to these innovations, you will use your authority in reprobating them. In examining the English books, that were printed between the Restoration and the accession of George the Second, we may observe, that all substantives were began with a capital, in which we imitated our mother tongue, the German. This was more particularly useful to those who were not well acquainted with the English; there being such a prodigious number of our words, that are both verbs and substantives, and spelled in the same manner, though often accented differently in the pronunciation. This method has, by the fancy of printers, of late years been laid aside, from an idea that suppressing the capitals shows the character to greater advantage; those letters prominent above the line disturbing its even regular appearance. The effect of this change is so considerable, that a learned man of France, who used to read our books, though not perfectly acquainted with our language in conversation with me on the subject of our authors, attributed the greater obscurity, he found in our modern books, compared with those of the period above mentioned, to change of style for the worse in our writers; of which mistake I convinced him, by marking for him each substantive with a capital in a paragraph, which he then easily understood, though before he could not comprehend it. This shows the inconvenience of that pretended improvement. From the same fondness for an even and uniform appearance of characters in the line, the printers have of late banished also the Italic types, in which words of importance to be attended to in the sense of the sentence, and words on which an emphasis should be put in reading, used to be printed. And lately another fancy has induced some printers to use the short round s, instead of the long one, which formerly served well to distinguish a word readily by its varied appearance. Certainly the omitting this prominent letter makes the line appear more even; but renders it less immediately legible; as the paring all men's noses might smooth and level their faces, but would render their physiognomies less distinguishable. B. FRANKLIN PHILADELPHIA, 26 December, 1789. {TO_EZRA_STILES_WITH_A_STATEMENT_OF_HIS_RELIGIOUS_CREED To Ezra Stiles, With a Statement of His Religious Creed 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 worshipped. 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 England, some doubts as to his Divinity; though it is a question I do not dogmatize 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. B. FRANKLIN. Philadelphia, 9 March, 1790. {TO_DAVID_HARTLEY_EXPLAINING_THE_ORIGIN_OF_THE_STAMP_ACT To David Hartley, Explining the Origin of the Stamp Act IN the pamphlets you were so kind as to lend me there is one important fact misstated, apparently from the writers not having been furnished with good information. It is the transaction between Mr. Grenville and the Colonies, wherein he understands that Mr. Grenville demanded of them a specific sum, that they refused to grant anything, and that it was on their refusal only that he made the motion for the Stamp Act. No one of these particulars is true. The fact is this. Sometime in the winter of 1763-4, Mr. Grenville called together the agents of the several colonies, and told them that he purposed to draw a revenue from America and to that end his intention was to levy a stamp duty on the colonies by act of Parliament in the ensuing session, of which he thought they should be immediately acquainted, that they might have time to consider, and, if any other duty equally productive would be more agreeable to them, they might let him know it. The agents were therefore directed to write this to their respective Assemblies, and communicate to him the answers they should receive. The agents wrote accordingly. I was a member in the Assembly of Pennsylvania when this notification came to hand. The observations there made upon it were, that the ancient, established and regular method of drawing aids from the colonies was this. The occasion was always first considered by their sovereign in his Privy Council, by whose sage advice he directed his Secretary of State to write circular letters to the several governors, who were directed to lay them before their Assemblies. In those letters the occasion was explained for their satisfaction, with gracious expressions of His Majesty's confidence in their known duty and affection, on which they replied that they would grant such sums as should be suitable to their abilities, loyalty and zeal for his service. That the Colonies had always granted liberally on such requisitions and so liberally during the late war, that the king, sensible they had granted much more than their proportion, had recommended it to Parliament five years successively to make them some compensation, and the Parliament accordingly returned them AE 200,000 a year to be divided among them. That the proposition of taxing them in Parliament was therefore both cruel and unjust That by the constitution of the Colonies their business was with the king in matters of aid; they had nothing to do with any financier, nor he with them; nor were the agents the proper channels through which requisitions should be made. It was therefore improper for them to enter into any stipulation, or make any proposition to Mr. Grenville about laying taxes on their constituents by Parliament, which had really no right at all to tax them, especially as the notice he had sent them did not appear to be by the king's order and perhaps was without his knowledge; as the king when he would obtain anything from them always accompanied his requisition with good words, but this gentleman, instead of a decent demand, sent them a menace that they should certainly be taxed, and only left them the choice of the manner. But, all this notwithstanding, they were so far from refusing to grant money that they resolved to the following purpose: "That, as they always had, so they always should, think it their duty to grant aid to the crown according to their abilities, whenever required of them in the usual constitutional manner." I went soon after to England, and took with me an authentic copy of this resolution, which I presented to Mr. Grenville before he brought in the Stamp Act. I asserted in the House of Commons (Mr. Grenville being present) that I had done so, and he did not deny it. Other Colonies made similar resolutions. And had Mr. Grenville instead of that Act applied to the king in Council for such requisitional letters to be circulated by the Secretary of State, I am sure he would have obtained more money from the Colonies by their voluntary grants than he himself expected from his stamps. But he chose compulsion rather than persuasion, and would not receive from their good will what he thought he could obtain without it. And thus the golden bridge, which the ingenious author thinks the Americans unwisely and unbecomingly refused to hold out to the Minister and Parliament, was actually held out to them, but they refused to walk over it. This is the true history of that transaction, and, as it is probable there may be another edition of that excellent pamphlet, I wish this may be communicated to the candid author, who I doubt not will correct that error. I am ever, with sincere esteem, dear Sir, &c. B. FRANKLIN. PASSY, 12 March, 1778. {TO_ROBERT_MORRIS_ON_THE_STATE_OF_AMERICAN_CREDIT_IN_EUROPE To Robert Morris, On the State of American Cerdit in Europe THE sentiment you express "that no country is truly independent, until with her own credit and resources she is able to defend herself and correct her enemies," appears to me perfectly just. And the resolutions you have taken of endeavoring to establish our credit, by drawing out our resources in such a manner, that we may be little burthensome and essentially useful to our friends, are such as all good patriots ought to wish you may succeed in, and should hold themselves ready to afford you every assistance in their power. As in taking your measures it will be useful to you to know what aids you may expect from Europe, I think it right to give you my opinion that you cannot rely on such as may be called very considerable. If Europe was in peace, and its governments therefore under no necessity of borrowing, much of the spare money of private persons might then be collectible in a loan to our States. But four of the principal nations being already at war, and a fifth supposed to be preparing for it, all borrowing what they can, and bidding from time to time a higher interest, it is to be supposed that moneyed men will rather risk lending their cash to their own governments, or to those of their neighbors, than to hazard it over the Atlantic with a new state, which to them hardly appears to be yet firmly established. Hence all our attempts to procure private loans have hitherto miscarried, and our only chance of pecuniary aids is from the governments of France or Spain, who being at war with our enemy are somewhat interested in assisting us. These two governments have indeed great revenues. But, when it is considered that the abilities of nations to assist each other are not in proportion to their incomes, but in proportion to their economy, and that saving and treasuring up in time of peace is rarely thought of by Ministers, whence the expenses of the peace establishment equal if they do not exceed the incomes; therefore when a war comes on, they, are, with regard to the means of carrying it on, almost as poor as we, being equally obliged to borrow. The difference only is, that they have a credit which we want; which we had indeed with our own people, but have lost it by abusing it. Their credit, however, can only procure the moneys that are to spare, and those in so general a demand are few. Hence it is, and because her treasures have been long detained in America, that Spain has been able to help us very little; and though France has done for us much more, it has not been equal to our wants, although I sincerely believe it equal to her abilities, the war being otherwise exceedingly expensive to her and her commerce much obstructed. If the ten million loan in Holland is all applied to our purposes, we shall this year have obtained near twenty million of livres; and I think there is no probability of our obtaining the same for the next: nothing can therefore be more apropos or more necessary than your purpose of endeavoring that "our revenues should be expended with economy." Would to God that economy could also be introduced into our private affairs! the money our foolish people spend in superfluities and vanities would be nearly equal to the expense of the war. Bat that is wishing mankind more sense than God has been pleased to give them and more than they desire, for they have not enough to know they want it, and one may as well wish them more money. It is true that Spain has now got great part of her treasure home, and may possibly grant more than she has hitherto done to Mr. Jay's applications. But though the sums arrived are considerable upon paper, the king's part is not very great, and much of it has been anticipated; so that our expectations should not be sanguine from that quarter neither. I have not proposed to any banker here, as yet, to have the connection you mention with our Bank. The opinion of our general poverty and inability, which the enormous depreciation of our paper among ourselves has impressed on the minds of all Europe, give me no hopes of success in such a proposition. I clearly see, however, the advantages that you show would arise from the operations; and as soon as any favorable circumstances in our affairs may give a probable chance of succeeding, I shall seize the opportunity and propose it. Perhaps I may sooner venture to ask privately the sentiments of our banker (who is a judicious man) on such a proposition and let you know what he thinks of it. Thus you see, my dear friend, I have not endeavored to flatter you with pleasing expectations of aids that may never be obtained; and thereby betray you into plans that might miscarry and disgrace you. Truth is best for you and for us all. When you know what you cannot depend on, you will better know what you can undertake. I shall certainly do what may lie in my power to help you: but do not expect too much of me. If you can succeed in executing the engagement I entered into with Mr. Necker, that will augment my credit, and of course my power of being useful to you. At present it is very good. My acceptances having always been punctually paid, now pass on any exchange in Europe for money; but if I should be obliged to fail in discharging any of them it is gone forever, and may be thrown by as a broken instrument of no farther service. You are so sensible of this and possess so much innate honor that I shall not have the least doubt, in accepting your drafts or your enabling me to pay them duly. With the most sincere esteem and affection, I am, &c. B. FRANKLIN. PASSY, 5 November, 1781. The End