_Picture of a wise father--To which is added a famous receipt for
health and long life._
The reader must already have discovered that Ben was uncommonly blest
in a father. Indeed from the portrait of him drawn by this grateful
son, full fifty years afterwards, he must have been an enviable old
man.
As to his person, though that is but of minor consideration in a
rational creature--I say, as to his person, it was of the right
standard, _i.e._ medium size and finely formed--his complexion fair
and ruddy--black, intelligent eyes--and an air uncommonly graceful and
spirited. In respect of _mind_, which is the true jewel of our nature,
he was a man of the purest piety and morals, and consequently cheerful
and amiable in a high degree. Added to this, he possessed a
considerable taste for the fine arts, particularly drawing and music;
and having a voice remarkably sonorous and sweet, whenever he sung a
hymn accompanied with his violin, which he usually did at the close of
his day's labours, it was delightful to hear him. He possessed also an
extraordinary sagacity in things relating both to public and private
life, insomuch that not only individuals were constantly consulting
him about their affairs, and calling him in as an arbiter in their
disputes; but even the leading men of Boston would often come and ask
his advice in their most important concerns, as well of the town as of
the church.
For his slender means he was a man of extraordinary hospitality, which
caused his friends to wonder how he made out to entertain so many. But
whenever this was mentioned to him, he used to laugh and say, that the
world was good natured and gave him credit for much more than he
deserved; for that, in fact, others entertained ten times as many as
he did. By this, 'tis thought he alluded to the ostentatious practice
common with some, of pointing their hungry visitant to their grand
buildings, and boasting how many thousands this or that bauble cost;
as if their ridiculous vanity would pass with them for a good dinner.
For his part, he said, he preferred setting before his visitors a
plenty of wholesome fare, with a hearty welcome. Though to do this he
was fain to work hard, and content himself with a small house and
plain furniture. But it was always his opinion that a little laid out
in this way, went farther both with God and man too, than great
treasures lavished on pride and ostentation.
But though he delighted in hospitality as a great virtue, yet he
always made choice of such friends at his table as were fond of
rational conversation. And he took great care to introduce such topics
as would, in a pleasant manner, lead to ideas useful to his family,
both in temporal and eternal things. As to the dishes that were served
up, he never talked of them; never discussed whether they were well or
ill dressed; of a good or bad flavour, high seasoned or otherwise.
For this manly kind of education at his table, Dr. Franklin always
spoke as under great obligations to his father's judgment and taste.
Thus accustomed, from infancy, to a generous inattention to the
palate, he became so perfectly indifferent about what was set before
him, that he hardly ever remembered, ten minutes after dinner, what he
had dined on. In travelling, particularly, he found his account in
this. For while those who had been more nice in their diet could enjoy
nothing they met with; this one growling over the daintiest breakfast
of new laid eggs and toast floated in butter, because his _coffee was
not half strong enough!_--that wondering what people can mean by
serving up a round of beef when they have _no mustard!_--and a third
cursing like a trooper, though the finest rock-fish or sheep's-head be
smoking on the table--because there is no _walnut pickle or ketchup!_
He for his part, happily engaged in a pleasant train of thinking or
conversation, never attended to such trifles, but dined heartily on
whatever was set before him. In short, there is no greater kindness
that a young man can do himself than to learn the art of feasting on
fish, flesh, or fowl as they come, without ever troubling his head
about any other sauce than what the rich hand of nature has given; let
him but bring to these dishes that good appetite which always springs
from exercise and cheerfulness, and he will be an epicure indeed.
He would often repeat in the company of young people, the following
anecdote which he had picked up some where or other in his extensive
reading. "A wealthy citizen of Athens, who had nearly ruined his
constitution by gluttony and sloth, was advised by Hippocrates to
visit a certain medicinal spring in Sparta; not that Hippocrates
believed that spring to be better than some nearer home; but exercise
was the object--" "_Visit the springs of Sparta_," said the great
physician. As the young debauchee, pale and bloated, travelled among
the simple and hardy Spartans, he called one day at the house of a
countryman on the road to get something to eat. A young woman was just
serving up dinner--a nice barn-door fowl boiled with a piece of fat
bacon. "You have got rather a plain dinner there madam," growled the
Athenian. "_Yes, sir_," replied the young woman blushing, "_but my
husband will be here directly, and he always brings the sauce with
him_." Presently the young husband stepped in, and after welcoming his
guest, invited him to dinner. "I can't dream of dining, sir, _without
sauce_," said the Athenian, "and your wife promised you would bring
it." "_O, sir, my wife is a wit_," cried the Spartan; "_she only meant
the good appetite which I always bring with me from the barn, where I
have been threshing_."
And here I beg leave to wind up this chapter with the following
beautiful lines from Dryden, which I trust my young reader will commit
to memory. They may save him many a sick stomach and headache, besides
many a good dollar in doctor's fees.
"The first physicians by debauch were made;
Excess began and sloth sustains the trade.
By chace, our long liv'd fathers earn'd their bread;
Toil strung their nerves and purified their blood:
But we, their sons, a pamper'd race of men,
Are dwindled down to threescore years and ten.
Better hunt in fields for health unbought,
Than fee the doctor for a nauseous draught.
The wise for health on exercise depend;
God never made his works for man to mend."