Mr. Barrow had been from her two or three months, to keep Governor Tryon
and other tories company on board the Asia, one of the king's ships
which lay in the harbour; and in all that time that naughty man had not
ventured once on shore to see her. Our troops were then pouring into the
town, and she was packing up to leave it; fearing, as she had a large
house, they would incommode her by quartering officers in it. As she
appeared in great perplexity, scarce knowing where to go, I persuaded
her to stay; and I went to the general officers then commanding there,
and recommended her to their protection; which they promised and
performed. On my return from Canada, where I was a piece of a governor
(and, I think, a very good one) for a fortnight, and might have been so
till this time if your wicked army, enemies to all good government, had
not come and driven me out, I found her still in quiet possession of her
house. I inquired how our people had behaved to her; she spoke in high
terms of the respectful attention they had paid her, and the quiet and
security they had procured her. I said I was glad of it, and that, if
they had used her ill, I would have turned tory. Then, said she (with
that pleasing gayety so natural to her), _I wish they had_. For you must
know she is a _toryess_ as well as you, and can as flippantly say
_rebel_. I drank tea with her; we talked affectionately of you and our
other friends the Wilkes, of whom she had received no late intelligence;
what became of her since, I have not heard. The street she lived in was
some months after chiefly burned down; but as the town was then, and
ever since has been, in possession of the king's troops, I have had no
opportunity of knowing whether she suffered any loss in the
conflagration. I hope she did not, as if she did, I should wish I had
not persuaded her to stay there. I am glad to learn from you, that that
unhappy but deserving family, the W.'s, are getting into some business
that may afford them subsistence. I pray that God will bless them, and
that they may see happier days. Mr. Cheap's and Dr. H.'s good fortunes
please me. Pray learn, if you have not already learned, like me, to be
pleased with other people's pleasures, and happy with their happiness
when none occur of your own; then, perhaps, you will not so soon be
weary of the place you chance to be in, and so fond of rambling to get
rid of your _ennui_. I fancy you have hit upon the right reason of your
being weary of St. Omer's, viz., that you are out of temper, which is
the effect of full living and idleness. A month in Bridewell, beating
hemp, upon bread and water, would give you health and spirits, and
subsequent cheerfulness and contentment with every other situation. I
prescribe that regimen for you, my dear, in pure good-will, without a
fee. And, let me tell you, if you do not get into temper, neither
Brussels nor Lisle will suit you. I know nothing of the price of living
in either of those places; but I am sure a single woman as you are
might, with economy, upon two hundred pounds a year, maintain herself
comfortably anywhere, and me into the bargain. Do not invite me in
earnest, however, to come and live with you, for, being posted here, I
ought not to comply, and I am not sure I should be able to refuse.
Present my respects to Mrs. Payne and Mrs. Heathcoat; for, though I have
not the honour of knowing them, yet as you say they are friends to the
American cause, I am sure they must be women of good understanding. I
know you wish you could see me, but as you can't, I will describe
myself to you. Figure me in your mind as jolly as formerly, and as
strong and hearty, only a few years older: very plainly dressed, wearing
my thin gray straight hair, that peeps out under my only _coiffure_, a
fine fur cap, which comes down my forhead almost to my spectacles. Think
how this must appear among the powdered heads of Paris! I wish every
lady and gentleman in France would only be so obliging as to follow my
fashion, comb their own heads as I do mine, dismiss their _friseurs_,
and pay me half the money they paid to them. You see the gentry might
well afford this, and I could then enlist these friseurs, (who are at
least 100,000), and with the money I would maintain them, make a visit
with them to England, and dress the heads of your ministers and privy
counsellors; which I conceive at present to be _un peu derangées_.
Adieu! madcap, and believe me ever your affectionate friend and humble
servant,
"B. FRANKLIN.
"P.S.--Don't be proud of this long letter. A fit of the gout, which has
confined me five days, and made me refuse to see company, has given me
little time to trifle; otherwise it would have been very short; visiters
and business would have interrupted: and, perhaps, with Mrs. Barrow, you
wish they had."
* * * * *
"_To Mr. Lith._
"Passy, near Paris, April 6, 1777.
"SIR,
"I have just been honoured with a letter from you, dated the 26th past,
in which you express yourself as astonished, and appear to be angry that
you have no answer to a letter you wrote me of the 11th of December,
which you are sure was delivered to me.
"In exculpation of myself, I assure you that I never received any letter
from you of this date. And, indeed, being then but four days landed at
Nantes, I think you could scarce have heard so soon of my being in
Europe.
"But I received one from you of the 8th of January, which I own I did
not answer. It may displease you if I give you the reason; but as it may
be of use to you in your future correspondences, I will hazard that for
a gentleman to whom I feel myself obliged, as an American, on account of
his good-will to our cause.
"Whoever writes to a stranger should observe three points: 1. That what
he proposes be practicable. 2. His propositions should be made in
explicit terms, so as to be easily understood. 3. What he desires,
should be in itself reasonable. Hereby he will give a favourable
impression of his understanding, and create a desire of farther
acquaintance. Now it happened that you were negligent in _all_ these
points: for, first, you desired to have means procured for you of taking
a voyage to America '_avec sureté_,[19] which is not possible, as the
dangers of the sea subsist always, and at present there is the
additional danger of being taken by the English. Then you desire that
this may be '_sans trop grandes dépenses_,'[20] which is not
intelligible enough to be answered, because, not knowing your ability of
bearing expenses, one cannot judge what may be _trop grandes_. Lastly,
you desire letters of address to the Congress and to General Washington,
which it is not reasonable to ask of one who knows no more of you than
that your name is LITH, and that you live at BAYREUTH.
[19] With safety.
[20] Without too great expense.
"In your last, you also express yourself in vague terms when you desire
to be informed whether you may expect '_d'étre reçu d'une maniére
cenvenable_'[21] in our troops. As it is impossible to know what your
ideas are of the _maniére convenable_, how can one answer this? And then
you demand whether I will support you by my authority in giving you
letters of recommendation. I doubt not your being a man of merit, and,
knowing it yourself, you may forget that it is not known to everybody;
but reflect a moment, sir, and you will be convinced, that if I were to
practise giving letters of recommendation to persons whose character I
knew no more than I do of yours, my recommendations would soon be of no
authority at all.
[21] To be received in a suitable manner.
"I thank you, however, for your kind desire of being serviceable to my
countrymen, and I wish, in return, that I could be of service to you in
the scheme you have formed of going to America. But numbers of
experienced officers here have offered to go over and join our army, and
I could give them no encouragement, because I have no orders for that
purpose, and I know it is extremely difficult to place them when they
come there. I cannot but think, therefore, that it is best for you not
to make so long, so expensive, and so hazardous a voyage, but to take
the advice of your friends and _stay in Franconia_. I have the honour to
be, sir, &c.,
"B. FRANKLIN."
* * * * *
_Answer to a letter from Brussels._
"_Passy_, July 1, 1778.
"SIR,
"I received your letter dated at Brussels the 16th past.
"My vanity might possibly be flattered by your expressions of compliment
to my understanding, if your proposals did not more clearly manifest a
mean opinion of it.
"You conjure me, in the name of the omniscient and just God, before whom
I must appear, and by my hopes of future fame, to consider if some
expedient cannot be found to put a stop to the desolation of America,
and prevent the miseries of a general war. As I am conscious of having
taken every step in my power to prevent the breach, and no one to widen
it, I can appear cheerfully before that God, fearing nothing from his
justice in this particular, though I have much occasion for his mercy in
many others. As to my future fame, I am content to rest it on my past
and present conduct, without seeking an addition to it in the crooked,
dark paths you propose to me, where I should most certainly lose it.
This your solemn address would, therefore, have been more properly made
to your sovereign and his venal parliament. He and they, who wickedly
began and madly continue a war for the desolation of America, are
accountable for the consequences.
"You endeavour to impress me with a bad opinion of French faith; but the
instances of their friendly endeavours to serve a race of weak princes,
who by their own imprudence defeated every attempt to promote their
interest, weigh but little with me when I consider the steady friendship
of France to the thirteen United States of Switzerland, which has now
continued inviolate two hundred years. You tell me that she will
certainly cheat us, and that she despises us already. I do not believe
that she will cheat us, and I am not certain that she despises us: but I
see clearly that you are endeavouring to cheat us by your conciliatory
bills; that you actually despised our understandings when you flattered
yourselves those artifices would succeed; and that not only France, but
all Europe, yourselves included, most certainly and for ever, would
despise us if we were weak enough to accept your insidious
propositions.
"Our expectations of the future grandeur of America are not so
magnificent, and, therefore, not so vain and visionary, as you represent
them to be. The body of our people are not merchants, but humble
husbandmen, who delight in the cultivation of their lands, which, from
their fertility and the variety of our climates, are capable of
furnishing all the necessaries of life without external commerce; and we
have too much land to have the slightest temptation to extend our
territory by conquest from peaceable neighbours, as well as too much
justice to think of it. Our militia, you find by experience, are
sufficient to defend our lands from invasion; and the commerce with us
will be defended by all the nations who find an advantage in it. We
therefore have not the occasion you imagine, of fleets or standing
armies, but may leave those expensive machines to be maintained for the
pomp of princes and the wealth of ancient states. We propose, if
possible, to live in peace with all mankind; and, after you have been
convinced, to your cost, that there is nothing to be got by attacking
us, we have reason to hope that no other power will judge it prudent to
quarrel with us, lest they divert us from our own quiet industry, and
turn us into corsairs preying upon theirs. The weight, therefore, of an
independent empire, which you seem certain of our inability to bear,
will not be so great as you imagine. The expense of our civil government
we have always borne, and can easily bear, because it is small. A
virtuous and laborious people may be cheaply governed. Determining as we
do to have no offices of profit, nor any sinecures or useless
appointments, so common in ancient and corrupted states, we can govern
ourselves a year for the sum you pay in a single department, or for what
one jobbing contractor, by the favour of a minister, can cheat you out
of in a single article.
"You think we flatter ourselves, and are deceived into an opinion that
England _must_ acknowledge our independence. We, on the other hand,
think you flatter yourselves in imagining such an acknowledgment a vast
boon which we strongly desire, and which you may gain some great
advantage by granting or withholding. We have never asked it of you. We
only tell you that you can have no treaty with us but as an independent
state; and you may please yourselves and your children with the rattle
of your right to govern us, as long as you have with that of your king
being king of France, without giving us the least concern if you do not
attempt to exercise it. That this pretended right is indisputable, as
you say, we utterly deny. Your parliament never had a right to govern
us, and your king has forfeited it by his bloody tyranny. But I thank
you for letting me know a little of your mind, that even if the
Parliament should acknowledge our independence, the act would not be
binding to posterity, and that your nation would resume and prosecute
the claim as soon as they found it convenient from the influence of your
passions and your present malice against us. We suspected before that
you would not be bound by your conciliatory acts longer than till they
had served their purpose of inducing us to disband our forces; but we
were not certain that you were knaves by principle, and that we ought
not to have the least confidence in your offers, promises, or treaties,
though confirmed by Parliament. I now indeed recollect my being
informed, long since, when in England, that a certain very great
personage, then young, studied much a certain book, entitled _Arcana
imperii_ [_Secrets of governing_]. I had the curiosity to procure the
book and read it. There are sensible and good things in it, but some bad
ones; for, if I remember right, a particular king is applauded for his
politically exciting a rebellion among his subjects at a time when they
had not strength to support it, that he might, in subduing them, take
away their privileges which were troublesome to him: and a question is
formally stated and discussed, _Whether a prince, to appease a revolt,
makes promises of indemnity to the revolters, is obliged to fulfil those
promises?_ Honest and good men would say ay; but this politician says as
you say, no. And he gives this pretty reason, that though it was right
to make the promises, because otherwise the revolt would not be
suppressed, yet it would be wrong to keep them, because revolters ought
to be punished to deter future revolts. If these are the principles of
your nation, no confidence can be placed in you; it is in vain to treat
with you, and the wars can only end in being reduced to an utter
inability of continuing them.
"One main drift of your letter seems to be to impress me with an idea of
your own impartiality, by just censures of your ministers and measures,
and to draw from me propositions of peace, or approbations of those you
have enclosed me, which you intimate may by your means be conveyed to
the king directly, without the intervention of those ministers. Would
you have me give them to, or drop them for a stranger I may find next
Monday in the Church of Notre Dame, to be known by a rose in his hat?
You yourself, sir, are quite unknown to me; you have not trusted me with
your right name. Our taking the least step towards a treaty with
England, through you, might, if you are an enemy, be made use of to ruin
us with our new and good friends. I may be indiscreet enough in many
things, but certainly, if I were disposed to make propositions (which I
cannot do, having none committed to me to make), I should never think of
delivering them to the Lord knows who, to be carried the Lord knows
where, to serve no one knows what purposes. Being at this time one of
the most remarkable figures in Paris, even my appearance in the Church
of Notre Dame, where I cannot have any conceivable business, and
especially being seen to leave or drop any letter to any person there
would be a matter of some speculation, and might, from the suspicions it
must naturally give, have very mischievous consequences to our credit
here. The very proposing of a correspondence so to be managed, in a
manner not necessary where _fair dealing_ is intended, gives just reason
to suppose you intend the _contrary_. Besides, as your court has sent
commissioners to treat with the Congress, with all the powers that would
be given them by the crown under the act of Parliament, what _good
purpose_ can be served by privately obtaining propositions from us?
Before those commissioners went, we might have treated in virtue of our
general powers (with the knowledge, advice, and approbation of our
friends), upon any propositions made to us. But, under the present
circumstances, for us to make propositions while a treaty is supposed to
be actually on foot with the Congress, would be extremely improper,
highly presumptuous with regard to our honourable constituents, and
answer no good end whatever.
"I write this letter to you, notwithstanding (which I think I can convey
in a less mysterious manner; and guess it may come to your hands); I
write it because I would let you know our sense of your procedure, which
appears as insidious as that of your conciliatory bills. Your true way
to obtain peace, if your ministers desire it, is to propose openly to
the Congress fair and equal terms; and you may possibly come sooner to
such a resolution, when you find that personal flatteries, general
cajolings, and panegyrics on our _virtue_ and _wisdom_ are not likely to
have the effect you seem to expect; the persuading us to act _basely_
and _foolishly_ in betraying our country and posterity into the hands
of our most bitter enemies; giving up or selling of our arms and
warlike stores, dismissing our ships of war and troops, and putting
those enemies in possession of our forts and ports. This proposition of
delivering ourselves, bound and gagged, ready for hanging, without even
a right to complain, and without even a friend to be found afterward
among all mankind, you would have us embrace on the faith of an act of
Parliament! Good God! an act of your Parliament! This demonstrates that
you do not yet know us, and that you fancy we do not know you: but it is
not merely this flimsy faith that we are to act upon; you offer us
_hope_, the hope of PLACES, PENSIONS, and PEERAGE. These, judging from
yourselves, you think are motives irresistible. This offer to corrupt
us, sir, is with me your credential, and convinces me that you are not a
private volunteer in your application. It bears the stamp of British
court intrigue, and the signature of your king. But think for a moment
in what light it must be viewed in America. By places which cannot come
among us, for you take care by a special article to keep them to
yourselves. We must then pay the salaries in order to enrich ourselves
with these places. But you will give us PENSIONS; probably to be paid,
too, out of your expected American revenue; and which none of us can
accept without deserving, and, perhaps, obtaining a _suspension_.
PEERAGES! Alas! sir, our long observation of the vast servile majority
of your peers, voting constantly for every measure proposed by a
minister, however weak or wicked, leaves us small respect for them, and
we consider it a sort of tar-and-feathered honour, or a mixture of
foulness and folly; which every man among us who should accept from your
king, would be obliged to renounce or exchange for that conferred by the
mobs of their own country, or wear it with everlasting shame.
"B. FRANKLIN."
* * * * *
"_Dr. Price, London._
"Passy, February 6, 1780.
"DEAR SIR,
"I received but very lately your kind favour of October 14. Dr.
Ingenhausz, who brought it, having stayed long in Holland. I sent the
enclosed directly to Mr. L. It gave me great pleasure to understand that
you continue well. Your writings, after all the abuse you and they have
met with, begin to make serious impressions on those who at first
rejected the counsels you gave; and they will acquire new weight every
day, and be in high esteem when the cavils against them are dead and
forgotten. Please to present my affectionate respects to that honest,
sensible, and intelligent society, who did me so long the honour of
admitting me to share in their instructive conversations. I never think
of the hours I so happily spent in that company, without regretting that
they are never to be repeated; for I see no prospect of an end to this
unhappy war in my time. Dr. Priestley, you tell me, continues his
experiments with success. We make daily great improvements in
_natural_--there is one I wish to see in _moral_ philosophy; the
discovery of a plan that would induce and oblige nations to settle their
disputes without first cutting one another's throats. When will human
reason be sufficiently improved to see the advantage of this? When will
men be convinced that even successful wars at length become misfortunes
to those who unjustly commenced them, and who triumphed blindly in their
success, not seeing all its consequences. Your great comfort and mine in
this war is, that we honestly and faithfully did everything in our power
to prevent it. Adieu, and believe me ever, my dear friend, yours, &c.,
"B. FRANKLIN."
* * * * *
"_Dr. Priestley._
"Passy, February 8, 1780.
"DEAR SIR,
"Your kind letter of September 27 came to hand but very lately, the
bearer having stayed long in Holland.
"I always rejoice to hear of your being still employed in experimental
researches into nature, and of the success you meet with. The rapid
progress _true_ science now makes, occasions my regretting sometimes
that I was born so soon: it is impossible to imagine the height to which
may be carried, in a thousand years, the power of man over matter; we
may perhaps learn to deprive large masses of their gravity, and give
them absolute levity for the sake of easy transport. Agriculture may
diminish its labour and double its produce; all diseases may by sure
means be prevented or cured (not excepting even that of old age), and
our lives lengthened at pleasure even beyond the antediluvian standard.
Oh! that moral science were in as fair a way of improvement; that men
would cease to be wolves to one another; and that human beings would at
length learn what they now improperly call humanity!
"I am glad that my little paper on the Aurora Borealis pleased. If it
should occasion farther inquiry, and so produce a better hypothesis, it
will not be wholly useless.
"B. FRANKLIN."
* * * * *
[Enclosed in the foregoing letter; being an answer to a separate
paper received from Dr. Priestley]
"I have considered the situation of that person very attentively; I
think that, with a little help from the _Moral Algebra_, he might form
a better judgment than any other person can form for him. But, since my
opinion seems to be desired, I give it for continuing to the end of the
term, under all the present disagreeable circumstances: the connexion
will then die a natural death. No reason will be expected to be given
for the separation, and, of course, no offence taken at reasons given;
the friendship may still subsist, and, in some other way, be useful. The
time diminishes daily, and is usefully employed. All human situations
have their inconveniences; we _feel_ those that we find in the present,
and we neither _feel_ nor _see_ those that exist in another. Hence we
make frequent and troublesome changes without amendment, and often for
the worse. In my youth, I was passenger in a little sloop descending the
river Delaware. There being no wind, we were obliged, when the ebb was
spent, to cast anchor and wait for the next. The heat of the sun on the
vessel was excessive, the company strangers to me, and not very
agreeable. Near the river-side I saw what I took to be a pleasant green
meadow, in the middle of which was a large shady tree, where it struck
my fancy I could sit and read (having a book in my pocket), and pass the
time agreeably till the tide turned; I therefore prevailed with the
captain to put me ashore. Being landed, I found the greatest part of my
meadow was really a marsh, in crossing which, to come at my tree, I was
up to my knees in mire: and I had not placed myself under its shade five
minutes before the moschetoes in swarms found me out, attacked my legs,
hands, and face, and made my reading and my rest impossible; so that I
returned to the beach, and called for the boat to come and take me on
board again, where I was obliged to bear the heat I had strove to quit,
and also the laugh of the company. Similar cases in the affairs of life
have since frequently fallen under my observation.
"I have had thoughts of a college for him in America; I know no one who
might be more useful to the public in the institution of youth. But
there are possible unpleasantnesses in that situation: it cannot be
obtained but by a too hazardous voyage at this time for a family: and
the time for experiments would be all otherwise engaged.
"B. FRANKLIN."
* * * * *
"_To General Washington._
"Passy, March 5, 1780
"SIR,
"I received but lately the letter your excellency did me the honour of
writing to me in recommendation of the Marquis de Lafayette. His modesty
detained it long in his own hands. We became acquainted, however, from
the time of his arrival at Paris; and his zeal for the honour of our
country, his activity in our affairs here, and his firm attachment to
our cause and to you, impressed me with the same regard and esteem for
him that your excellency's letter would have done had it been
immediately delivered to me.
"Should peace arrive after another campaign or two, and afford us a
little leisure, I should be happy to see your excellency in Europe, and
to accompany you, if my age and strength would permit, in visiting some
of its most ancient and famous kingdoms. You would, on this side the
sea, enjoy the great reputation you have acquired, pure and free from
those little shades that the jealousy and envy of a man's countrymen and
contemporaries are ever endeavouring to cast over living merit. Here you
would know and enjoy what posterity will say of Washington. For a
thousand leagues have nearly the same effect with a thousand years. The
feeble voice of those grovelling passions cannot extend so far either
in time or distance. At present I enjoy that pleasure for you, as I
frequently hear the old generals of this martial country (who study the
maps of America, and mark upon them all your operations) speak with
sincere approbation and great applause of your conduct, and join in
giving you the character of one of the greatest captains of the age.
"I must soon quit the scene, but you may live to see our country
flourish, as it will amazingly and rapidly after the war is over. Like a
field of young Indian corn, which long fair weather and sunshine had
enfeebled and discoloured, and which in that weak state, by a
thunder-gust of violent wind, hail, and rain, seemed to be threatened
with absolute destruction; yet the storm being past, it recovers fresh
verdure, shoots up with double vigour, and delights the eye not of its
owner only, but of every observing traveller.