'Tis the character of a great mind never to despair. Though glory may
not be gained in one way, it may in another. As a river, if it meet a
mountain in its course, does not halt and poison all the country by
stagnation, but rolls its gathering forces around the obstacle, urging
its precious tides and treasures through distant lands. So it was with
the restless genius of young Franklin. Finding that nature had never
cut him out for a poet, he determined to take revenge on her by making
himself a good prose writer. As it is in this way that his pen has
conferred great obligations on the world, it must be gratifying to
learn by what means, humbly circumstanced as he was, he acquired that
perspicuity and ease so remarkable in his writings. This information
must be peculiarly acceptable to such youth as are apt to despair of
becoming good writers, because they have never been taught the
languages. Ben's example will soon convince them that Latin and Greek
are not necessary to make English scholars. Let them but commence with
_his_ passion for knowledge; with _his_ firm persuasion, that wisdom
is the glory and happiness of man, and the work is more than half
done.
Honest Ben never courted a young man because he was rich, or the son
of the rich--No. His favourites were of the youth fond of reading and
of rational conversation, no matter how poor they were. "_Birds of a
feather do not more naturally flock together_," than do young men of
this high character. This was what first attracted to him that
ingenious young carpenter, Matthew Adams: as also John Collins, the
tanner's boy. These three spirited youth, after finding each other
out, became as fond as brothers. And often as possible, when the
labours of the day were ended, they would meet at a little
school-house in the neighbourhood, and argue on some given subject
till midnight. The advantages of this as a grand mean of exercising
memory, strengthening the reasoning faculty, disciplining the
thoughts, and improving a correct and graceful elocution, became daily
more obvious and important in their view, and consequently increased
their mutual attachment. But from his own observation of what passed
in this curious little society, Ben cautions young men against that
_war of words_, which the vain are too apt to fall into, and which
tends not only to make them insupportably disagreeable through a
disputatious spirit, but is apt also to betray into a fondness for
_quizzing_, _i.e._ for asserting and supporting opinions which they do
not themselves believe. He gives the following as a case in point.
One night, Adams being absent, and only himself and Collins together
in the old school-house, Ben observed that he thought it a great pity
that the young ladies were not more attended to, as to the improvement
of their minds by education. He said, that with their advantages of
sweet voices and beautiful faces, they could give tenfold charms to
wit and sensible conversation, making heavenly truths to appear, as he
had somewhere read in his father's old Bible, "like apples of gold set
in pictures of silver."
Collins blowed upon the idea. He said, it was all _stuff_, and no pity
at all, that the girls were so neglected in their education, as they
were naturally incapable of it. And here he repeated, laughing, that
infamous slur on the ladies,
"Substance too soft a lasting mind to bear,
And best distinguish'd by black, brown, or fair."
At this, Ben, who was already getting to be a great admirer of the
ladies, reddened up against Collins; and to it they fell, at once, in
a stiff argument on the education of women--as whether they were
capable of studying the sciences or not. Collins, as we have seen, led
off against the ladies. Being much of an infidel, he took the Turkish
ground altogether, and argued like one just soured and sullen from the
seraglio. _Women study the sciences indeed!_ said he, with a sneer; _a
pretty story truly! no sir, they have nothing to do with the sciences.
They were not born for any such thing._
Ben wanted to know what they _were_ born for?
Born for! retorted Collins, why to _dress_ and _dance_; to _sing_ and
_play_; and, like pretty triflers, to divert the lords of the
creation, after their toils and studies. This is all they were born
for, or ever intended of nature, who has given them capacities for
nothing higher. Sometimes, indeed, they look grave, and fall into such
brown studies as would lead one to suppose they meant to go deep; but
it is all _fudge_. They are only trying in this new character to play
themselves off to a better effect on their lovers. And if you could
but penetrate the bosoms of these fair Penserosoes; you would find
that under all this affectation of study they were only fatiguing
their childish brains about what dress they should wear to the next
ball: or what coloured ribands would best suit their new lutestrings.
To this Ben replied with warmth, that it was extremely unphilosophical
in Mr. Collins to argue in that way against the MIND--that in fixing
their destination he had by no means given them that high ground to
which they were entitled. You say, sir, continued Ben, that the ladies
were created to amuse the men by the charm of their vivacity and
accomplishments. This to be sure was saying something. But you might,
I think, have said a great deal more; at least the Bible says a great
deal more for them. The Bible, sir, tells us that God created woman to
be the helpmate of man. Now if man were devoid of reason he might be
well enough matched by such a monkey-like helpmate as you have
described woman. But, sir, since man is a noble God-like creature,
endued with the sublime capacities of _reason_, how could woman ever
make a helpmate to him, unless she were rational like himself, and
thus capable of being the companion of his thoughts and conversation
through all the pleasant fields of knowledge?
Here Collins interrupted him, asking very sarcastically, if in this
fine flourish in favour of the ladies he was really _in earnest_.
Never more so in all my life, replied Ben, rather nettled.
What, that the women are as capable of studying the sciences as the
men?
Yes, that the women are as capable of studying the sciences as the
men.
And pray, sir, continued Collins, tauntingly, do you know of any
_young woman_ of your acquaintance that would make a Newton?
And pray, sir, answered Ben, do you know any young man of your
acquaintance that would? But these are no arguments, sir,--because it
is not every young man or woman that can carry the science of
astronomy so high as Newton, it does not follow that they are
incapable of the science altogether. God sees fit in every age to
appoint certain persons to kindle new lights among men.--And Newton
was appointed greatly to enlarge our views of celestial objects. But
we are not thence to infer that he was in all respects superior to
other men, for we are told that in some instances he was far inferior
to other men. Collins denied that Newton had ever shown himself, in
any point of wit inferior to other men.
No, indeed, replied Ben; well what do you think of that anecdote of
him, lately published in the New England Courant from a London paper?
And pray what is the anecdote? asked Collins.
Why it is to this effect, said Ben.--Newton, mounted on the wings of
astronomy, and gazing at the mighty orbs of fire above, had entirely
forgotten the poor little fire that slumbered on his own hearth below,
which presently forgot him, that is in plain English, went out. The
frost piercing his nerves, called his thoughts home, when lo! in place
of the spacious skies, the gorgeous antichamber of the Almighty, he
found himself in his own little nut-shell apartment, cold and dark,
comparatively, as the dwelling of the winter screech-owl. He rung the
bell for his servant, who after making a rousing fire, went out again.
But scarcely had the servant recovered his warm corner in the kitchen,
before the vile bell, with a most furious ring, summoned him the
second time. The servant flew into his master's presence. _Monster!_
cried Newton with a face inflamed as if it had been toasting at the
tail of one of his comets, _did you mean to burn me alive? push back
the fire! for God's sake push back the fire, or I shall be a cinder in
an instant!_
Push back the fire! replied the servant with a growl, zounds, sir, I
thought you might have had sense enough to push back your chair!
Collins swore that it was only a libel against Sir Isaac.
Ben contended that he had seen it in so many different publications,
that he had no sort of doubt of its truth; especially as Sir Hans
Sloan had backed it with another anecdote of Newton, in the same
style; and to which he avers he was both eye and ear witness.
And pray what has that butterfly philosopher to say against the
immortal Newton? asked Collins, quite angrily.
Why, replied Ben, it is this: Sloan, stepping in one day, to see Sir
Isaac, was told by his servant that he was up in his study, but would
be down immediately; _for there, sir, you see is his dinner, which I
have just set on the table_.--It was a pheasant so neatly browned in
the roasting, and withal so plump and inviting to the eye, that Sloan
could not resist the temptation; but venturing on his great intimacy
with the knight, sat down and picked the delicious bird to the bone;
having desired the cook in all haste to clap another to the spit.
Presently down came Sir Isaac--was very glad to see his friend
Sloan--how had he been all this time? and how did he leave his good
lady and family? you have not dined?
No.
Very glad of it indeed; very glad. Well then, come dine with
me.--Turning to the table, he sees the dish empty, and his plate
strewed with the bones of his favourite pheasant.--_Lord bless me!_ he
exclaimed, clasping his forehead, and looking betwixt laughing and
blushing, at Sloan--_what am I good for? I have dined, as you see, my
dear friend, and yet I had entirely forgot it!_
I don't believe a syllable of it, said Collins; not one syllable of
it, sir.
No, replied Ben; nor one syllable, I suppose, of his famous courtship,
when sitting by an elegant young lady, whom his friends wished him to
make love to, he seized her lily white hand. But instead of pressing
it with rapture to his bosom, he thrust it into the bowl of his pipe
that he was smoking; thus making a tobacco stopper of one of the
loveliest fingers in England; to the inexpressible mortification of
the company, and to the most dismal scolding and screaming of the dear
creature!
'Tis all a lie, sir, said Collins, getting quite mad, all a confounded
lie. The immortal Newton, sir, was never capable of acting so much
like a blockhead. But supposing all this slang to be true, what would
you infer from it, against that prince of philosophy?--Why I would
infer from it, replied Ben, that though a great man, he was but a man.
And I would also infer from it in favour of my fair clients, that
though they did not make Sir Isaac's discoveries in astronomy, they
are yet very capable of comprehending them. And besides, I am
astonished, Mr. Collins, how any gentleman that loves himself, as I
know you do, can thus traduce the ladies. Don't you consider, sir,
that in proportion as you lessen the dignity of the ladies, you lessen
the dignity of your affections for them, and consequently, your own
happiness in them, which must for ever keep pace with your ideas of
their excellence.--This was certainly a home thrust; and most readers
would suppose, that Ben was in a fair way to crow over his antagonist;
but, Collins was a young man of too much pride and talents to give up
so easily. A spirited retort, of course, was made; a rejoinder
followed, and thus the controversy was kept up until the watchman
bawling twelve o'clock, reminded our stripling orators that it was
time for them to quit the old school-house; which with great
reluctance they did, but without being any nearer the end of their
argument than when they began.