TABLE TALK.
"Yes," replied Mr. Franklin, to the inquiry of a friend who was dining
with him; "my ancestors were inured to hardships, and I myself am not
altogether a stranger to them. I had but little opportunity of going
to school, and have always had to work hard for a livelihood."
"So much the better for you now," replied his friend; "for in this new
country, and these hard times, you cannot find the support of a large
family an easy matter."
"That is true; but I have never regretted coming to this country. The
liberty of worshipping God according to the dictates of conscience, is
one of the richest blessings, and more than compensates for the trial
of leaving my native land."
"Then you experienced the rigours of intolerance there, in some
measure, did you?"
"Oh yes; my forefathers adhered to the Protestant faith through the
reign of Mary, and were often in great danger from the bitter hatred
of the Papists. I sometimes wonder that they did not forfeit their
lives in those days of persecution."
"I can relate to you one interesting fact," interrupted Uncle
Benjamin, addressing himself to the guest. "Our ancestors possessed an
English Bible, which they valued highly, of course; but there was
danger of losing it, through the craftiness and hostility of the Papal
powers. They held the Protestant Bible in absolute contempt. So, to
conceal their Bible, at the same time they could enjoy the reading of
it, they 'fastened it open with tapes under and within the cover of a
joint-stool.' When our great-grandfather desired to read it to his
family, according to his daily custom, 'he placed the joint-stool on
his knees, and then turned over the leaves under the tapes.' While he
was reading, one of the children was stationed at the door to give the
alarm if he should see 'the apparitor coming, who was an officer of
the spiritual court.' If the officer was seen approaching, the stool
was immediately set down upon its feet, and the Bible in this way was
concealed from view. For a considerable time they were obliged to read
the Scriptures in this secret manner."
"But your father was not thus persecuted, was he?" inquired the
friend.
"He was not persecuted to such a degree," answered Uncle Benjamin,
"though he had some experience of this kind; and even brother Josias
and myself did not escape. Our father's family continued in the Church
of England till about the end of Charles the Second's reign, when
Josias and I joined the Nonconformists, and subjected ourselves to
much contempt."
"And that is the reason I am in this country now," said Mr. Franklin.
"We enjoyed few privileges, and frequently our religious meetings were
disturbed, as they were forbidden by law. On this account some of my
acquaintances resolved to remove to this country, and I decided to
join them."
"How long ago was that?"
"It was about 1685, so that you will perceive I am one of the old
settlers of America. I have been here long enough to witness many
changes, and have no desire to return to my native country. My
children can scarcely appreciate how much they enjoy, in comparison
with the experience of their ancestors."
Benjamin had often heard the last remark, as a reminder of his
obligations to be good and useful. Indeed, this whole tale of
persecution he had listened to over and over, and had heard his Uncle
Benjamin tell the story of the Bible and stool a number of times. He
had come to the conclusion that he was faring better than his father
did, although he did not think his own lot remarkably flattering.
This conversation at the dinner-table was a specimen of what
frequently occurred there in the way of remark. Mr. Franklin was
gratified to have some intelligent friend at his table with him, that
they might converse upon some useful topics, for the benefit of his
children. When he had no guest at his table, he would call the
attention of his children to some subject calculated to improve their
minds, thinking, at the same time, that it would serve to draw off
their attention from their humble fare. Children are apt to find fault
with the food set before them, and perhaps the reader himself has more
than once fretted over an unpalatable dish, and murmured for something
else. Sometimes they beg for an article of food that is not on the
table, declining to eat what is furnished for the family. It was not
so at Mr. Franklin's table. He did not allow one of his children to
complain of the food, however simple it might be; and his principal
method of calling off their attention from the quality of their
victuals was, as we have said, to converse upon some sensible theme.
Their attention being directed to other things, they were seldom
troubled about their food, and became almost indifferent to what was
placed on the table. Benjamin said, in his manhood, on referring to
this subject: "I am so unobservant of it, that to this day I can
scarcely tell, a few hours after dinner, of what dishes it consisted.
This has been a great convenience to me in travelling, where my
companions have been sometimes very unhappy for the want of a
suitable gratification of their more delicate, because better
instructed tastes and appetites."
The guests of Mr. Franklin being usually intelligent, their
conversation was instructive to the children, who acquired thereby
many valuable items of information. The condition and prospects of the
country, the oppressive measures of the English government, and the
means of future prosperity, were among the topics which they heard
discussed. Although it seems like a small, unimportant influence to
bring to bear upon tender childhood, yet it left its mark upon their
characters. They had more interest in the public questions of the day,
and more general intelligence in consequence.
It is related of the Washburne family, of which four or five brothers
occupy posts of political distinction in the United States, that in
their early life their father's house was open to ministers, and was
sometimes called "the minister's hotel." Mr. Washburne was a great
friend of this class, and enjoyed their society much. At all times
nearly, some one of the ministerial fraternity would be stopping
there. His sons were thus brought into their society, and they
listened to long discussions upon subjects of a scientific, political,
and religious character, though public measures received a large share
of attention. The boys acquired some valuable information by
listening to their remarks, and this created a desire to read and
learn more; and so they were started off in a career that bids fair to
reflect honour both upon themselves and their country. Their early
advantages were few, but the conversation of educated men, upon
important subjects, laid the foundation of their eminence in public
life.
"You must give heed to little things," Mr. Franklin would frequently
say to his sons, when they appeared to think that he was too
particular about some things, such as behaviour at the table,
"although nothing can really be considered small that is important. It
is of far more consequence how you behave, than what you wear."
Sometimes, if the meal was unusually plain (and it was never
extravagant), he would say, "Many people are too particular about
their victuals. They destroy their health by eating too much and too
rich food. Plain, simple, wholesome fare is all that nature requires,
and young persons who are brought up in this way will be best off in
the end."
Such kind of remarks frequently greeted the ears of young Benjamin; so
that, as we have already seen, he grew up without caring much about
the kind of food which he ate. Perhaps here is to be found the origin
of those rigidly temperate principles in both eating and drinking, for
which he was distinguished all through his life. In his manhood, he
wrote and talked upon the subject, and reduced his principles to
practice. When he worked as a printer in England, his fellow-labourers
were hard drinkers of strong beer, really believing that it was
necessary to make them competent to endure fatigue. They were
astonished to see a youth like Benjamin able to excel the smartest of
them in the printing-office, while he drank only cold water, and they
sneeringly called him "the Water-American."
The temperate habits which Benjamin formed in his youth were the more
remarkable, because there were no temperance societies at that time,
and it was generally supposed to be necessary to use intoxicating
drinks. The evils of intemperance were not viewed with so much
abhorrence as they are now, and the project of removing them from
society was not entertained for a moment. Reformatory movements, in
this respect, did not commence until nearly one hundred years after
the time referred to. Yet Benjamin was fully persuaded in his youth
that he ought to be temperate in all things. Probably there was not
one of his associates who believed as he did on the subject. But he
began early to think for himself, and this, with the excellent
discipline of his wise and sagacious father, caused him to live in
advance of those around him. It is not probable that he adopted the
principle of total abstinence, and abstained entirely from the use of
intoxicating drinks; but he was not in the habit of using it as a
daily, indispensable beverage.
That the practice of Benjamin's father, to allow no finding fault with
the food at the table, and to lead the way in profitable conversation,
was a good one, we think no one can deny. It was very different,
however, from much of the table-talk that is heard in families.
Conversation is frequently brisk and lively, but it often runs in this
way:--
"I don't want any of that, I don't like it," exclaimed Henry. "I
should think you might have a better dinner than this."
"What would you have if you could get it,--roast chicken and plum
pudding?" inquires his mother, laughing, instead of reproving him for
his error.
"I would have something I can eat. You know I don't like that, and
never did."
"Well, it does boys good, sometimes, to eat what they don't like,
especially such particular ones as you are," says his father.
"I shan't eat what I don't like, at any rate," continues Henry, "I
shall go hungry first."
"There, now," added his father, "let me hear no more complaint about
your food. You are scarcely ever suited with your victuals."
"May I have some ----?" calling for some article not on the table.
"If you will hold your tongue, and get it yourself, you can have it."
"And let me have some, too!" shouts James, a younger brother; "I don't
like this, neither. May I have some, father?"
"And I too," said Jane, setting up her plea. "I must have some if they
do."
In this way the table-talk proceeds, until fretting, scolding, crying,
make up the sum total of the conversation, and family joys are
embittered for the remainder of the day. Finding fault with food is
the occasion of all the unhappiness.
Let the reader ask himself how much he has contributed to make
conversation at the table proper and instructive. Has he thought more
of the quality of his food than of anything else at the family board?
If the review of the past reveals an error in this respect, let him
learn a valuable lesson from this part of Benjamin Franklin's life.
Though it may seem to be an unimportant matter, accept the testimony
of Benjamin himself, and believe that it leaves its impress upon the
future character.