Benjamin Franklin Part 43

--Our people are extremely impatient to hear of your success at Cape Breton. My shop is filled with thirty inquirers at the coming in of every post. Some wonder the place is not yet taken. I tell them I shall be glad to hear that news three months hence. Fortified towns are hard nuts to crack; and your teeth have not been accustomed to it. Taking strong places is a particular trade, which you have taken up without serving an apprentices.h.i.+p to it. Armies and veterans need skilful engineers to direct them in their attack. Have you any? But some seem to think forts are as easy taken as snuff. Father Moody's prayers look tolerably modest. You have a fast and prayer day for that purpose; in which I compute five hundred thousand pet.i.tions were offered up to the same effect in New England, which added to the pet.i.tions of every family morning and evening, multiplied by the number of days since January 25th, make forty-five millions of prayers; which, set against the prayers of a few priests in the garrison, to the Virgin Mary, give a vast balance in your favour.

If you do not succeed, I fear I shall have but an indifferent opinion of Presbyterian prayers in such cases, as long as I live. Indeed, in attacking strong towns I should have more dependence on _works_, than on _faith_; for, like the kingdom of heaven, they are to be taken by force and violence; and in a French garrison I suppose there are devils of that kind, that they are not to be cast out by prayers and fasting, unless it be by their own fasting for want of provisions. I believe there is Scripture in what I have wrote, but I cannot adorn the margin with quotations, having a bad memory, and no Concordance at hand; besides no more time than to subscribe myself, &c.

B. FRANKLIN.

PREFACE TO POOR RICHARD, 1746

Who is _Poor Richard_? People oft enquire, Where lives? What is he? never yet the nigher.

Somewhat to ease your Curiositee, Take these slight Sketches of my Dame and me.

Thanks to kind Readers and a careful Wife, With plenty bless'd, I lead an easy Life; My business Writing; less to drain the Mead, Or crown the barren Hill with useful Shade; In the smooth Glebe to see the Plowshare worn, And fill the Granary with needful Corn.

Press nectareous Cyder from my loaded Trees, Print the sweet b.u.t.ter, turn the Drying Cheese.

Some Books we read, tho' few there are that hit The happy Point where Wisdom joins with Wit; That set fair Virtue naked to our View, And teach us what is _decent_, what is _true_.

The Friend sincere, and honest Man, with Joy Treating or treated oft our Time employ.

Our Table next, Meals temperate; and our Door Op'ning spontaneous to the bashful Poor.

Free from the bitter Rage of Party Zeal, All those we love who seek the publick Weal.

Nor blindly follow Superst.i.tious Love, Which cheats deluded Mankind o'er and o'er, Not over righteous, quite beyond the Rule, Conscience perplext by every canting Tool.

Nor yet when Folly hides the dubious Line, When Good and Bad the blended Colours join: Rush indiscreetly down the dangerous Steep, And plunge uncertain in the darksome Deep.

Cautious, if right; if wrong resolv'd to part The Inmate Snake that folds about the Heart.

Observe the _Mean_, the _Motive_, and the _End_, Mending ourselves, or striving still to mend.

Our Souls sincere, our Purpose fair and free, Without Vain Glory or Hypocrisy: Thankful if well; if ill, we kiss the Rod; Resign with Hope, and put our Trust in G.o.d.

THE SPEECH OF POLLY BAKER[32]

[Printed in the _Gentleman's Magazine_, April, 1747.]

The Speech of Miss Polly Baker before a Court of Judicature, at Connecticut near Boston in New England; where she was prosecuted the fifth time, for having a b.a.s.t.a.r.d Child: Which influenced the Court to dispense with her Punishment, and which induced one of her Judges to marry her the next Day--by whom she had fifteen Children.

"May it please the honourable bench to indulge me in a few words: I am a poor, unhappy woman, who have no money to fee lawyers to plead for me, being hard put to it to get a living. I shall not trouble your honours with long speeches; for I have not the presumption to expect that you may, by any means, be prevailed on to deviate in your Sentence from the law, in my favour. All I humbly hope is, that your honours would charitably move the governor's goodness on my behalf, that my fine may be remitted. This is the fifth time, gentlemen, that I have been dragg'd before your court on the same account; twice I have paid heavy fines, and twice have been brought to publick punishment, for want of money to pay those fines. This may have been agreeable to the laws, and I don't dispute it; but since laws are sometimes unreasonable in themselves, and therefore repealed; and others bear too hard on the subject in particular circ.u.mstances, and therefore there is left a power somewhere to dispense with the execution of them; I take the liberty to say, that I think this law, by which I am punished, both unreasonable in itself, and particularly severe with regard to me, who have always lived an inoffensive life in the neighbourhood where I was born, and defy my enemies (if I have any) to say I ever wrong'd any man, woman, or child. Abstracted from the law, I cannot conceive (may it please your honours) what the nature of my offense is. I have brought five fine children into the world, at the risque of my life; I have maintain'd them well by my own industry, without burthening the towns.h.i.+p, and would have done it better, if it had not been for the heavy charges and fines I have paid. Can it be a crime (in the nature of things, I mean) to add to the king's subjects, in a new country, that really wants people? I own it, I should think it rather a praiseworthy than a punishable action. I have debauched no other woman's husband, nor enticed any other youth; these things I never was charg'd with; nor has any one the least cause of complaint against me, unless, perhaps, the ministers of justice, because I have had children without being married, by which they have missed a wedding fee. But can this be a fault of mine? I appeal to your honours. You are pleased to allow I don't want sense; but I must be stupified to the last degree, not to prefer the honourable state of wedlock to the condition I have lived in. I always was, and still am willing to enter into it; and doubt not my behaving well in it, having all the industry, frugality, fertility, and skill in economy appertaining to a good wife's character. I defy any one to say I ever refused an offer of that sort: on the contrary, I readily consented to the only proposal of marriage that ever was made me, which was when I was a virgin, but too easily confiding in the person's sincerity that made it, I unhappily lost my honour by trusting to his; for he got me with child, and then forsook me.

"That very person, you all know, he is now become a magistrate of this country; and I had hopes he would have appeared this day on the bench, and have endeavoured to moderate the Court in my favour; then I should have scorn'd to have mentioned it; but I must now complain of it, as unjust and unequal, that my betrayer and undoer, the first cause of all my faults and miscarriages (if they must be deemed such), should be advanced to honour and power in this government that punishes my misfortunes with stripes and infamy. I should be told, 'tis like, that were there no act of a.s.sembly in the case, the precepts of religion are violated by my transgressions. If mine is a religious offense, leave it to religious punishments. You have already excluded me from the comforts of your church communion. Is not that sufficient? You believe I have offended heaven, and must suffer eternal fire: Will not that be sufficient? What need is there then of your additional fines and whipping? I own I do not think as you do, for, if I thought what you call a sin was really such, I could not presumptuously commit it.

But, how can it be believed that heaven is angry at my having children, when to the little done by me towards it, G.o.d has been pleased to add his divine skill and admirable workmans.h.i.+p in the formation of their bodies, and crowned the whole by furnis.h.i.+ng them with rational and immortal souls?

"Forgive me, gentlemen, if I talk a little extravagantly on these matters; I am no divine, but if you, gentlemen, must be making laws, do not turn natural and useful actions into crimes by your prohibitions. But take into your wise consideration the great and growing number of batchelors in the country, many of whom, from the mean fear of the expences of a family, have never sincerely and honourably courted a woman in their lives; and by their manner of living leave unproduced (which is little better than murder) hundreds of their posterity to the thousandth generation. Is not this a greater offense against the publick good than mine? Compel them, then, by law, either to marriage, or to pay double the fine of fornication every year. What must poor young women do, whom customs and nature forbid to solicit the men, and who cannot force themselves upon husbands, when the laws take no care to provide them any, and yet severely punish them if they do their duty without them; the duty of the first and great command of nature and nature's G.o.d, _encrease and multiply_; a duty, from the steady performance of which nothing has been able to deter me, but for its sake I have hazarded the loss of the publick esteem, and have frequently endured publick disgrace and punishment; and therefore ought, in my humble opinion, instead of a whipping, to have a statue erected to my memory."

PREFACE TO POOR RICHARD, 1747

COURTEOUS READER,

This is the 15th Time I have entertain'd thee with my annual Productions; I hope to thy Profit as well as mine. For besides the astronomical Calculations, and other Things usually contain'd in Almanacks, which have their daily Use indeed while the Year continues, but then become of no Value, I have constantly interspers'd _moral_ Sentences, _prudent_ Maxims, and _wise_ Sayings, many of them containing _much good Sense_ in _very few_ Words, and therefore apt to leave _strong_ and _lasting_ Impressions on the Memory of young Persons, whereby they may receive Benefit as long as they live, when both Almanack and Almanack-maker have been long thrown by and forgotten. If I now and then insert a Joke or two, that seem to have little in them, my Apology _is_ that such may have their Use, since perhaps for their Sake light airy Minds peruse the rest, and so are struck by somewhat of more Weight and Moment. The Verses on the Heads of the Months are also generally design'd to have the same Tendency. I need not tell thee that not many of them are of my own Making. If thou hast any Judgment in Poetry, thou wilt easily discern the Workman from the Bungler. I know as well as thee, that I am no _Poet born_; and it is a Trade I never learnt, nor indeed could learn. _If I make Verses, 'tis in Spight--of Nature and my Stars, I write._ Why then should I give my Readers _bad Lines_ of my own, when _good Ones_ of other People's are so plenty? 'Tis methinks a poor Excuse for the bad Entertainment of Guests, that the Food we set before them, tho' coa.r.s.e and ordinary, _is of one's own Raising, off one's own Plantation_, &c. when there is Plenty of what is ten times better, to be had in the Market.--On the contrary, I a.s.sure ye, my Friends, that I have procur'd the best I could for ye, and _much Good may't do ye...._

_I am thy poor Friend, to serve thee,_ R. SAUNDERS.

TO PETER COLLINSON

Philad^a Aug^t 14, 1747.

SIR

I have lately written two long Letters to you on the Subject of Electricity, one by the Governor's Vessel, the other per Mesnard. On some further Experiments since I have observ'd a Phenomenon or two, that I cannot at present account for on the Principle laid down in those Letters, and am therefore become a little diffident of my Hypothesis, and asham'd that I have express'd myself in so positive a manner. In going on with these Experiments how many pretty Systems do we build which we soon find ourselves oblig'd to destroy! If there is no other Use discover'd of Electricity this however is something considerable, that it may _help to make a vain man humble_.

I must now request that you would not Expose those Letters; or if you communicate them to any Friends you would at least conceal my Name. I have not Time to add but that I am, Sir,

Your obliged and most hum^e Serv^t B. FRANKLIN.

PREFACE TO POOR RICHARD IMPROVED, 1748

KIND READER

The favourable Reception my annual Labours have met with from the Publick these 15 Years past, has engaged me in Grat.i.tude to endeavour some Improvements of my Almanack. And since my Friend _Taylor_ is no more, whose _Ephemerides_ so long and so agreeably serv'd and entertain'd these Provinces, I have taken the Liberty to imitate his well-known Method, and give two Pages for each Month; which affords me Room for several valuable Additions, as will best appear on Inspection and Comparison with former Almanacks. Yet I have not so far follow'd his Method, as not to continue my own when I thought it preferable; and thus my Book is increas'd to a Size beyond his, and contains much more Matter.

Hail Night serene! thro' Thee where'er we turn Our wond'ring Eyes, Heav'n's Lamps profusely burn; And Stars unnumber'd all the Sky adorn.

But lo!--what's that I see appear?

It seems far off a pointed flame; From Earthwards too the s.h.i.+ning Meteor came: How swift it climbs th' etherial s.p.a.ce!

And now it traverses each Sphere, And seems some knowing Mind, familiar to the Place, Dame, hand my Gla.s.s, the longest, strait prepare; 'Tis He--'tis TAYLOR'S Soul, that travels there.

O stay! thou happy Spirit, stay, And lead me on thro' all th' unbeaten Wilds of Day; Where Planets in pure Streams of Ether driven, Swim thro' the blue Expanse of Heav'n.

There let me, thy Companion, stray From Orb to Orb, and now behold Unnumber'd Suns, all Seas of molten Gold, And trace each Comet's wandring Way.--

Souse down into Prose again, my Muse; for Poetry's no more thy Element, than Air is that of the Flying-Fish; whose Flights, like thine, are therefore always short and heavy.--

ADVICE TO A YOUNG TRADESMAN

[1748]

TO MY FRIEND, A. B.:

As you have desired it of me, I write the following hints, which have been of service to me, and may, if observed, be so to you.

Remember, that _time_ is money. He that can earn ten s.h.i.+llings a day by his labour, and goes abroad, or sits idle, one half of that day, though he spends but sixpence during his diversion or idleness, ought not to reckon _that_ the only expense; he has really spent, or rather thrown away, five s.h.i.+llings besides.

Remember, that _credit_ is money. If a man lets his money lie in my hands after it is due, he gives me the interest, or so much as I can make of it during that time. This amounts to a considerable sum where a man has good and large credit, and makes good use of it.

Remember, that money is of the prolific, generating nature. Money can beget money, and its offspring can beget more, and so on. Five s.h.i.+llings turned is six, turned again it is seven and three-pence, and so on till it becomes an hundred pounds. The more there is of it, the more it produces every turning, so that the profits rise quicker and quicker. He that kills a breeding sow, destroys all her offspring to the thousandth generation. He that murders a crown, destroys all that it might have produced, even scores of pounds.

Remember, that six pounds a year is but a groat a day. For this little sum (which may be daily wasted either in time or expense unperceived) a man of credit may, on his own security, have the constant possession and use of an hundred pounds. So much in stock, briskly turned by an industrious man, produces great advantage.

Remember this saying, _The good paymaster is lord of another man's purse_. He that is known to pay punctually and exactly to the time he promises, may at any time, and on any occasion, raise all the money his friends can spare. This is sometimes of great use. After industry and frugality, nothing contributes more to the raising of a young man in the world than punctuality and justice in all his dealings; therefore never keep borrowed money an hour beyond the time you promised, lest a disappointment shut up your friend's purse for ever.