Adieu, my little philosopher. Present my respectful compliments to the

good ladies your aunts, and to Miss Pitt, and believe me ever

B. FRANKLIN.

* * * * *

_To the same._

TENDENCY OF RIVERS TO THE SEA.--EFFECTS OF THE SUN'S RAYS ON CLOTHES OF

DIFFERENT COLOURS.

September 20, 1761.

MY DEAR FRIEND,

It is, as you observed in our late conversation, a very general opinion,

that _all rivers run into the sea_, or deposite their waters there. 'Tis

a kind of audacity to call such general opinions in question, and may

subject one to censure. But we must hazard something in what we think

the cause of truth: and if we propose our objections modestly, we shall,

though mistaken, deserve a censure less severe than when we are both

mistaken and insolent.

That some rivers run into the sea is beyond a doubt: such, for instance,

are the Amazons, and, I think, the Oronoko and the Mississippi. The

proof is, that their waters are fresh quite to the sea, and out to some

distance from the land. Our question is, whether the fresh waters of

those rivers, whose beds are filled with salt water to a considerable

distance up from the sea (as the Thames, the Delaware, and the rivers

that communicate with Chesapeake Bay in Virginia), do ever arrive at the

sea? And as I suspect they do not, I am now to acquaint you with my

reasons; or, if they are not allowed to be reasons, my conceptions at

least of this matter.

The common supply of rivers is from springs, which draw their origin

from rain that has soaked into the earth. The union of a number of

springs forms a river. The waters, as they run exposed to the sun, air,

and wind, are continually evaporating. Hence, in travelling, one may

often see where a river runs, by a long bluish mist over it, though we

are at such a distance as not to see the river itself. The quantity of

this evaporation is greater or less, in proportion to the surface

exposed by the same quantity of water to those causes of evaporation.

While the river runs in a narrow, confined channel in the upper hilly

country, only a small surface is exposed; a greater as the river widens.

Now if a river ends in a lake, as some do, whereby its waters are spread

so wide as that the evaporation is equal to the sum of all its springs,

that lake will never overflow; and if, instead of ending in a lake, it

was drawn into greater length as a river, so as to expose a surface

equal in the whole to that lake, the evaporation would be equal, and

such river would end as a canal; when the ignorant might suppose, as

they actually do in such cases, that the river loses itself by running

under ground, whereas, in truth, it has run up into the air.

Now, how many rivers that are open to the sea widen much before they

arrive at it, not merely by the additional waters they receive, but by

having their course stopped by the opposing flood-tide; by being turned

back twice in twenty-four hours, and by finding broader beds in the low

flat countries to dilate themselves in; hence the evaporation of the

fresh water is proportionably increased, so that in some rivers it may

equal the springs of supply. In such cases the salt water comes up the

river, and meets the fresh in that part where, if there were a wall or

bank of earth across, from side to side, the river would form a lake,

fuller indeed at sometimes than at others, according to the seasons, but

whose evaporation would, one time with another, be equal to its supply.

When the communication between the two kinds of water is open, this

supposed wall of separation may be conceived as a moveable one, which is

not only pushed some miles higher up the river by every flood-tide from

the sea, and carried down again as far by every tide of ebb, but which

has even this space of vibration removed nearer to the sea in wet

seasons, when the springs and brooks in the upper country are augmented

by the falling rains, so as to swell the river, and farther from the sea

in dry seasons.

Within a few miles above and below this moveable line of separation, the

different waters mix a little, partly by their motion to and fro, and

partly from the greater gravity of the salt water, which inclines it to

run under the fresh, while the fresh water, being lighter, runs over the

salt.

Cast your eye on the map of North America, and observe the Bay of

Chesapeake, in Virginia, mentioned above; you will see, communicating

with it by their mouths, the great rivers Susquehanna, Potomac,

Rappahannoc, York, and James, besides a number of smaller streams, each

as big as the Thames. It has been proposed by philosophical writers,

that to compute how much water any river discharges into the sea in a

given time, we should measure its depth and swiftness at any part above

the tide: as for the Thames, at Kingston or Windsor. But can one

imagine, that if all the water of those vast rivers went to the sea, it

would not first have pushed the salt water out of that narrow-mouthed

bay, and filled it with fresh? The Susquehanna alone would seem to be

sufficient for this, if it were not for the loss by evaporation. And

yet that bay is salt quite up to Annapolis.

As to our other subject, the different degrees of heat imbibed from the

sun's rays by cloths of different colours, since I cannot find the notes

of my experiment to send you, I must give it as well as I can from

memory.

But first let me mention an experiment you may easily make yourself.

Walk but a quarter of an hour in your garden when the sun shines, with a

part of your dress white and a part black; then apply your hand to them

alternately, and you will find a very great difference in their warmth.

The black will be quite hot to the touch, the white still cool.

Another. Try to fire the paper with a burning glass. If it is white, you

will not easily burn it; but if you bring the focus to a black spot, or

upon letters written or printed, the paper will immediately be on fire

under the letters.

Thus fullers and dyers find black cloths, of equal thickness with white

ones, and hung out equally wet, dry in the sun much sooner than the

white, being more readily heated by the sun's rays. It is the same

before a fire, the heat of which sooner penetrates black stockings than

white ones, and so is apt sooner to burn a man's shins. Also beer much

sooner warms in a black mug set before the fire than in a white one, or

a bright silver tankard.

My experiment was this. I took a number of little pieces of broadcloth

from a tailor's pattern card, of various colours. There were black, deep

blue, lighter blue, green, purple, red, yellow, white, and other colours

or shades of colours. I laid them all out upon the snow in a bright

sunshiny morning. In a few hours (I cannot now be exact as to the time)

the black, being warmed most by the sun, was sunk so low as to be below

the stroke of the sun's rays; the dark blue almost as low, the lighter

blue not quite so much as the dark, the other colours less as they were

lighter, and the quite white remained on the surface of the snow, not

having entered it at all.

What signifies philosophy that does not apply to some use? May we not

learn from hence that black clothes are not so fit to wear in a hot

sunny climate or season as white ones; because in such clothes the body

is more heated by the sun when we walk abroad, and are, at the same

time, heated by the exercise, which double heat is apt to bring on

putrid dangerous fevers? That soldiers and seamen, who must march and

labour in the sun, should in the East or West Indies have a uniform of

white? That summer hats for men or women should be white, as repelling

that heat which gives headaches to many, and to some the fatal stroke

that the French call the _coup de soleil_? That the ladies' summer hats,

however, should be lined with black, as not reverberating on their faces

those rays which are reflected upward from the earth or water? That the

putting a white cap of paper or linen _within_ the crown of a black hat,

as some do, will not keep out the heat, though it would if placed

_without_? That fruit-walls, being blacked, may receive so much heat

from the sun in the daytime as to continue warm in some degree through

the night, and thereby preserve the fruit from frosts or forward its

growth? with sundry other particulars of less or greater importance,

that will occur from time to time to attentive minds.

B. FRANKLIN.

* * * * *

_To the same._

ON THE EFFECT OF AIR ON THE BAROMETER. AND THE BENEFITS DERIVED FROM THE

STUDY OF INSECTS.

Craven-street, June 11, 1760.

'Tis a very sensible question you ask, how the air can affect the

barometer, when its opening appears covered with wood? If, indeed, it

was so closely covered as to admit of no communication of the outward

air to the surface of the mercury, the change of weight in the air could

not possibly affect it. But the least crevice is sufficient for the

purpose; a pinhole will do the business. And if you could look behind

the frame to which your barometer is fixed, you would certainly find

some small opening.

There are, indeed, some barometers in which the body of the mercury in

the lower end is contained in a close leather bag, and so the air cannot

come into immediate contact with the mercury; yet the same effect is

produced. For the leather, being flexible, when, the bag is pressed by

any additional weight of air, it contracts, and the mercury is forced up

into the tube; when the air becomes lighter and its pressure less, the

weight of the mercury prevails, and it descends again into the bag.

Your observations on what you have lately read concerning insects is

very just and solid. Superficial minds are apt to despise those who make

that part of the creation their study as mere triflers; but certainly

the world has been much obliged to them. Under the care and management

of man, the labours of the little silkworm afford employment and

subsistence to thousands of families, and become an immense article of

commerce. The bee, too, yields us its delicious honey, and its wax

useful to a multitude of purposes. Another insect, it is said, produces

the cochineal, from whence we have our rich scarlet dye. The usefulness

of the cantharides, or Spanish flies, in medicine, is known to all, and

thousands owe their lives to that knowledge. By human industry and

observation, other properties of other insects may possibly be hereafter

discovered, and of equal utility. A thorough acquaintance with the

nature of these little creatures may also enable mankind to prevent the

increase of such as are noxious, or secure us against the mischiefs they

occasion. These things doubtless your books make mention of: I can only

add a particular late instance, which I had from a Swedish gentleman of

good credit. In the green timber intended for shipbuilding at the king's

yard in that country, a kind of worms was found, which every year became

more numerous and more pernicious, so that the ships were greatly

damaged before they came into use. The king sent Linnæus, the great

naturalist, from Stockholm, to inquire into the affair, and see if the

mischief was capable of any remedy. He found, on examination, that the

worm was produced from a small egg, deposited in the little roughnesses

on the surface of the wood, by a particular kind of fly or beetle; from

whence the worm, as soon as it was hatched, began to eat into the

substance of the wood, and, after some time, came out again a fly of the

parent kind, and so the species increased. The season in which the fly

laid its eggs Linnæus knew to be about a fortnight (I think) in the

month of May, and at no other time in the year. He therefore advised,

that some days before that season, all the green timber should be thrown

into the water, and kept under water till the season was over. Which

being done by the king's order, the flies, missing the usual nests,

could not increase, and the species was either destroyed or went

elsewhere: and the wood was effectually preserved, for after the first

year it became too dry and hard for their purpose.

There is, however, a prudent moderation to be used in studies of this

kind. The knowledge of nature may be ornamental, and it may be useful;

but if, to attain an eminence in that, we neglect the knowledge and

practice of essential duties, we deserve reprehension. For there is no

rank in natural knowledge of equal dignity and importance with that of

being a good parent, a good child, a good husband or wife, a good

neighbour or friend, a good subject or citizen, that is, in short, a

good Christian. Nicholas Gimcrack, therefore, who neglected the care of

his family to pursue butterflies, was a just object of ridicule, and we

must give him up as fair game to the satirist.

B. FRANKLIN.

* * * * *

_To Dr. Joseph Priestley._

EFFECT OF VEGETATION ON NOXIOUS AIR.

* * That the vegetable creation should restore the air which is spoiled

by the animal part of it, looks like a rational system, and seems to be

of a piece with the rest. Thus fire purifies water all the world over.

It purifies it by distillation, when it raises it in vapours, and lets

it fall in rain; and farther still by filtration, when, keeping it

fluid, it suffers that rain to percolate the earth. We knew before that

putrid animal substances were converted into sweet vegetables when mixed

with the earth and applied as manure; and now, it seems, that the same

putrid substances, mixed with the air, have a similar effect. The

strong, thriving state of your mint, in putrid air, seems to show that

the air is mended by taking something from it, and not by adding to it.

I hope this will give some check to the rage of destroying trees that

grow near houses, which has accompanied our late improvements in

gardening, from an opinion of their being unwholesome. I am certain,

from long observation, that there is nothing unhealthy in the air of

woods; for we Americans have everywhere our country habitations in the

midst of woods, and no people on earth enjoy better health or are more

prolific.

B. FRANKLIN.

* * * * *

_To Dr. John Pringle._

ON THE DIFFERENCE OF NAVIGATION IN SHOAL AND DEEP WATER.

Craven-street, May 10, 1768.

You may remember, that when we were travelling together in Holland, you

remarked that the trackschuyt in one of the stages went slower than

usual, and inquired of the boatman what might be the reason; who

answered, that it had been a dry season, and the water in the canal was

low. On being asked if it was so low as that the boat touched the muddy

bottom, he said no, not so low as that, but so low as to make it harder

for the horse to draw the boat. We neither of us, at first, could

conceive, that if there was water enough for the boat to swim clear of

the bottom, its being deeper would make any difference; but as the man

affirmed it seriously as a thing well known among them, and as the

punctuality required in their stages was likely to make such difference,

if any there were, more readily observed by them than by other watermen

who did not pass so regularly and constantly backward and forward in the

same track, I began to apprehend there might be something in it, and

attempted to account for it from this consideration, that the boat, in

proceeding along the canal, must in every boat's length of her course

move out of her way a body of water equal in bulk to the room her bottom

took up in the water; that the water so moved must pass on each side of

her and under her bottom to get behind her; that if the passage under

her bottom was straitened by the shallows, more of that water must pass

by her sides, and with a swifter motion, which would retard her, as

moving the contrary way; or, that the water becoming lower behind the

boat than before, she was pressed back by the weight of its difference

in height, and her motion retarded by having that weight constantly to

overcome. But as it is often lost time to attempt accounting for

uncertain facts, I determined to make an experiment of this when I

should have convenient time and opportunity.

After our return to England, as often as I happened to be on the Thames,

I inquired of our watermen whether they were sensible of any difference

in rowing over shallow or deep water. I found them all agreeing in the

fact, that there was a very great difference, but they differed widely

in expressing the quantity of the difference; some supposing it was

equal to a mile in six, others to a mile in three, &c. As I did not

recollect to have met with any mention of this matter in our

philosophical books, and conceiving that if the difference should really

be great, it might be an object of consideration in the many projects

now on foot for digging new navigable canals in this island, I lately

put my design of making the experiment in execution in the following

manner.

I provided a trough of planed boards fourteen feet long, six inches

wide, and six inches deep in the clear, filled with water within half an

inch of the edge, to represent a canal. I had a loose board, of nearly

the same length and breadth, that, being put into the water, might be

sunk to any depth, and fixed by little wedges where I would choose to

have it stay, in order to make different depths of water, leaving the

surface at the same height with regard to the sides of the trough. I had

a little boat in form of a lighter or boat of burden, six inches long,

two inches and a quarter wide, and one inch and a quarter deep. When

swimming, it drew one inch water. To give motion to the boat, I fixed

one end of a long silk thread to its bow, just even with the water's

edge; the other end passed over a well-made brass pully, of about an

inch diameter, turning freely on a small axis; and a shilling was the

weight. Then placing the boat at one end of the trough, the weight

would draw it through the water to the other.

Not having a watch that shows seconds, in order to measure the time

taken up by the boat in passing from end to end, I counted as fast as I

could count to ten repeatedly, keeping an account of the number of tens

on my fingers. And as much as possible to correct any little

inequalities in my counting, I repeated the experiment a number of times

at each depth of water, that I might take the medium. And the following

are the results:

Water

1-1/2 inches deep. 2 inches. 4-1/2 inches.

1st exp. 100 94 79

2d " 104 93 78

3d " 104 91 77

4th " 106 87 79

5th " 100 88 79

6th " 99 86 80

7th " 100 90 79

8th " 100 88 81

--- --- ---

813 717 632

--- --- ---

Medium 101 Medium 89 Medium 79

I made many other experiments, but the above are those in which I was

most exact; and they serve sufficiently to show that the difference is

considerable. Between the deepest and shallowest it appears to be

somewhat more than one fifth. So that, supposing large canals, and

boats, and depths of water to bear the same proportions, and that four

men or horses would draw a boat in deep water four leagues in four

hours, it would require five to draw the same boat in the same time as

far in shallow water, or four would require five hours.

Whether this difference is of consequence enough to justify a greater

expense in deepening canals, is a matter of calculation, which our

ingenious engineers in that way will readily determine.

B. FRANKLIN.

* * * * *

_To Oliver Neale._

ON THE ART OF SWIMMING.

I cannot be of opinion with you, that it is too late in life for you to

learn to swim. The river near the bottom of your garden affords a most

convenient place for the purpose. And as your new employment requires

your being often on the water, of which you have such a dread, I think

you would do well to make the trial; nothing being so likely to remove

those apprehensions as the consciousness of an ability to swim to the

shore in case of an accident, or of supporting yourself in the water

till a boat could come to take you up.

I do not know how far corks or bladders may be useful in learning to

swim, having never seen much trial of them. Possibly they may be of

service in supporting the body while you are learning what is called the

stroke, or that manner of drawing in and striking out the hands and feet

that is necessary to produce progressive motion. But you will be no

swimmer till you can place some confidence in the power of the water to

support you; I would therefore advise the acquiring that confidence in

the first place, especially as I have known several who, by a little of

the practice necessary for that purpose, have insensibly acquired the

stroke, taught, as it were, by nature.

The practice I mean is this. Choosing a place where the water deepens

gradually, walk coolly into it till it is up to your breast; then turn

round, your face to the shore, and throw an egg into the water between

you and the shore. It will sink to the bottom, and be easily seen there,

as your water is clear. It must lie in water so deep as that you cannot

reach it to take it up but by diving for it. To encourage yourself in

order to do this, reflect that your progress will be from deeper to

shallower water, and that at any time you may, by bringing your legs

under you and standing on the bottom, raise your head far above the

water. Then plunge under it with your eyes open, throwing yourself

towards the egg, and endeavouring, by the action of your hands and feet

against the water, to get forward till within reach of it. In this

attempt you will find that the water buoys you up against your

inclination; that it is not so easy a thing to sink as you imagined;

that you cannot, but by active force, get down to the egg. Thus you feel

the power of the water to support you, and learn to confide in that

power; while your endeavours to overcome it and to reach the egg teach

you the manner of acting on the water with your feet and hands, which

action is afterward used in swimming to support your head higher above

water, or to go forward through it.

I would the more earnestly press you to the trial of this method,

because, though I think I satisfied you that your body is lighter than

water, and that you might float in it a long time, with your mouth free

for breathing, if you would put yourself in a proper posture, and would

be still and forbear struggling, yet, till you have obtained this

experimental confidence in the water, I cannot depend on your having the

necessary presence of mind to recollect that posture and directions I

gave you relating to it. The surprise may put all out of your mind. For

though we value ourselves on being reasonable, knowing creatures, reason

and knowledge seem, on such occasions, to be of little use to us; and

the brutes, to whom we allow scarce a glimmering of either, appear to

have the advantage of us.

I will, however, take this opportunity of repeating those particulars to

you which I mentioned in our last conversation, as, by perusing them at

your leisure, you may possibly imprint them so in your memory as, on

occasion, to be of some use to you.

1. That though the legs, arms, and head of a human body, being solid

parts, are specifically something heavier than fresh water, yet the

trunk, particularly the upper part, from its hollowness, is so much

lighter than water, as that the whole of the body, taken together, is

too light to sink wholly under water, but some part will remain above

until the lungs become filled with water, which happens from drawing

water into them instead of air, when a person, in the fright, attempts

breathing while the mouth and nostrils are under water.

2. That the legs and arms are specifically lighter than salt water, and

will be supported by it, so that a human body would not sink in salt

water, though the lungs were filled as above, but from the greater

specific gravity of the head.

3. That, therefore, a person throwing himself on his back in salt water,

and extending his arms, may easily lie so as to keep his mouth and

nostrils free for breathing; and, by a small motion of his hands, may

prevent turning if he should perceive any tendency to it.

4. That in fresh water, if a man throws himself on his back near the

surface, he cannot long continue in that situation but by proper action

of his hands on the water. If he uses no such action, the legs and lower

part of the body will gradually sink till he comes into an upright

position, in which he will continue suspended, the hollow of the breast

keeping the head uppermost.

Memoirs of Benjamin Franklin; Written by Himself. [Vol. 2 of 2] With his Most Interesting Essays, Letters, and Miscellaneous Writings; Familiar, Moral, Political, Economical, and Philosophical, Selected with Care from All His Published Productions, and Comprising Whatever Is Most Entertaining and Valuable to the General Reader · 第 19 / 20 段