you tell me, to injure me on that side of the water. I trust in the
justice of the Congress, that they will listen to no accusations against
me, that I have not first been acquainted with, and had an opportunity
of answering. I know those gentlemen have plenty of ill will to me,
though I have never done to either of them the smallest injury, or given
the least just cause of offence. But my too great reputation, and the
general good will this people have for me, and the respect they show me,
and even the compliments they make me, all grieve those unhappy
gentlemen; unhappy indeed in their tempers, and in the dark,
uncomfortable passions of jealousy, anger, suspicion, envy, and malice.
It is enough for good minds to be affected at other people's
misfortunes; but they, that are vexed at everybody's good luck, can
never be happy. I take no other revenge of such enemies, than to let
them remain in the miserable situation in which their malignant natures
have placed them, by endeavouring to support an estimable character; and
thus, by continuing the reputation the world has hitherto indulged me
with, I shall continue them in their present state of damnation; and I
am not disposed to reverse my conduct for the alleviation of their
torments.
I am surprised to hear, that my grandson, Temple Franklin, being with
me, should be an objection against me, and that there is a cabal for
removing him.[96] Methinks it is rather some merit, that I have rescued
a valuable young man from the danger of being a Tory, and fixed him in
honest republican Whig principles; as I think, from the integrity of his
disposition, his industry, his early sagacity, and uncommon abilities
for business, he may in time become of great service to his country. It
is enough that I have lost my _son_; would they add my _grandson_? An
old man of seventy, I undertook a winter voyage at the command of the
Congress, and for the public service, with no other attendant to take
care of me. I am continued here in a foreign country, where, if I am
sick, his filial attention comforts me, and, if I die, I have a child to
close my eyes and take care of my remains. His dutiful behaviour towards
me, and his diligence and fidelity in business, are both pleasing and
useful to me. His conduct, as my private secretary, has been
unexceptionable, and I am confident the Congress will never think of
separating us.
I have had a great deal of pleasure in Ben too.[97] He is a good, honest
lad, and will make, I think, a valuable man. He had made as much
proficiency in his learning, as the boarding school he was at could well
afford him; and, after some consideration where to find a better for
him, I at length fixed on sending him to Geneva. I had a good
opportunity by a gentleman of that city; who had a place for him in his
chaise, and has a son about the same age at the same school. He promised
to take care of him, and enclosed I send you the letters I have since
received relating to him and from him. He went very cheerfully, and I
understand is very happy. I miss his company on Sundays at dinner. But,
if I live, and I can find a little leisure, I shall make the journey
next spring to see him, and to see at the same time _the old thirteen
United States_ of Switzerland.
Thanks be to God, I continue well and hearty. Undoubtedly I grow older,
but I think the last ten years have made no great difference. I have
sometimes the gout, but they say that is not so much a disease as a
remedy. God bless you. I am your affectionate father,
B. FRANKLIN.
MORALS OF CHESS[98]
[1779]
[Playing at chess is the most ancient and most universal game known
among men; for its original is beyond the memory of history, and it has,
for numberless ages, been the amusement of all the civilised nations of
Asia, the Persians, the Indians, and the Chinese. Europe has had it
above a thousand years; the Spaniards have spread it over their part of
America; and it has lately begun to make its appearance in the United
States. It is so interesting in itself, as not to need the view of gain
to induce engaging in it; and thence it is seldom played for money.
Those therefore who have leisure for such diversions, cannot find one
that is more innocent: and the following piece, written with a view to
correct (among a few young friends) some little improprieties in the
practice of it, shows at the same time that it may, in its effects on
the mind, be not merely innocent, but advantageous, to the vanquished as
well as the victor.]
The Game of Chess is not merely an idle Amusement. Several very valuable
qualities of the Mind, useful in the course of human Life, are to be
acquir'd or strengthened by it, so as to become habits, ready on all
occasions. For Life is a kind of Chess, in which we often have Points to
gain, & Competitors or Adversaries to contend with; and in which there
is a vast variety of good and ill Events, that are in some degree the
Effects of Prudence or the want of it. By playing at Chess, then, we may
learn,
I. _Foresight_, which looks a little into futurity, and considers the
Consequences that may attend an action; for it is continually occurring
to the Player, "If I move this piece, what will be the advantages or
disadvantages of my new situation? What Use can my Adversary make of it
to annoy me? What other moves can I make to support it, and to defend
myself from his attacks?"
II. _Circumspection_, which surveys the whole Chessboard, or scene of
action; the relations of the several pieces and situations, the Dangers
they are respectively exposed to, the several possibilities of their
aiding each other, the probabilities that the Adversary may make this or
that move, and attack this or the other Piece, and what different Means
can be used to avoid his stroke, or turn its consequences against him.
III. _Caution_, not to make our moves too hastily. This habit is best
acquired, by observing strictly the laws of the Game; such as, _If you
touch a Piece, you must move it somewhere; if you set it down, you must
let it stand_. And it is therefore best that these rules should be
observed, as the Game becomes thereby more the image of human Life, and
particularly of War; in which, if you have incautiously put yourself
into a bad and dangerous position, you cannot obtain your Enemy's Leave
to withdraw your Troops, and place them more securely, but you must
abide all the consequences of your rashness.
And _lastly_, we learn by Chess the habit of not being discouraged by
present appearances in the state of our affairs, the habit of hoping for
a favourable Change, and that of persevering in the search of resources.
The Game is so full of Events, there is such a variety of turns in it,
the Fortune of it is so subject to sudden Vicissitudes, and one so
frequently, after long contemplation, discovers the means of extricating
one's self from a supposed insurmountable Difficulty, that one is
encouraged to continue the Contest to the last, in hopes of Victory from
our own skill, or at least [of getting a stale mate] from the Negligence
of our Adversary. And whoever considers, what in Chess he often sees
instances of, that [particular pieces of] success is [are] apt to
produce Presumption, & its consequent Inattention, by which more is
afterwards lost than was gain'd by the preceding Advantage, while
misfortunes produce more care and attention, by which the loss may be
recovered, will learn not to be too much discouraged by any present
success of his Adversary, nor to despair of final good fortune upon
every little Check he receives in the pursuit of it.
That we may therefore be induced more frequently to chuse this
beneficial amusement, in preference to others which are not attended
with the same advantages, every Circumstance that may increase the
pleasure of it should be regarded; and every action or word that is
unfair, disrespectful, or that in any way may give uneasiness, should be
avoided, as contrary to the immediate intention of both the Players,
which is to pass the Time agreably.
Therefore, first, if it is agreed to play according to the strict rules,
then those rules are to be exactly observed by both parties, and should
not be insisted on for one side, while deviated from by the other--for
this is not equitable.
Secondly, if it is agreed not to observe the rules exactly, but one
party demands indulgencies, he should then be as willing to allow them
to the other.
Thirdly, no false move should ever be made to extricate yourself out of
difficulty, or to gain an advantage. There can be no pleasure in playing
with a person once detected in such unfair practice.
Fourthly, if your adversary is long in playing, you ought not to hurry
him, or express any uneasiness at his delay. You should not sing, nor
whistle, nor look at your watch, nor take up a book to read, nor make a
tapping with your feet on the floor, or with your fingers on the table,
nor do any thing that may disturb his attention. For all these things
displease; and they do not show your skill in playing, but your
craftiness or your rudeness.
Fifthly, you ought not to endeavour to amuse and deceive your adversary,
by pretending to have made bad moves, and saying that you have now lost
the game, in order to make him secure and careless, and inattentive to
your schemes: for this is fraud and deceit, not skill in the game.
Sixthly, you must not, when you have gained a victory, use any
triumphing or insulting expression, nor show too much pleasure; but
endeavour to console your adversary, and make him less dissatisfied with
himself, by every kind of civil expression that may be used with truth,
such as, "you understand the game better than I, but you are a little
inattentive;" or, "you play too fast;" or, "you had the best of the
game, but something happened to divert your thoughts, and that turned it
in my favour."
Seventhly, if you are a spectator while others play, observe the most
perfect silence. For, if you give advice, you offend both parties, him
against whom you give it, because it may cause the loss of his game, him
in whose favour you give it, because, though it be good, and he follows
it, he loses the pleasure he might have had, if you had permitted him to
think until it had occurred to himself. Even after a move or moves, you
must not, by replacing the pieces, show how they might have been placed
better; for that displeases, and may occasion disputes and doubts about
their true situation. All talking to the players lessens or diverts
their attention, and is therefore unpleasing. Nor should you give the
least hint to either party, by any kind of noise or motion. If you do,
you are unworthy to be a spectator. If you have a mind to exercise or
show your judgment, do it in playing your own game, when you have an
opportunity, not in criticizing, or meddling with, or counselling the
play of others.
Lastly, if the game is not to be played rigorously, according to the
rules above mentioned, then moderate your desire of victory over your
adversary, and be pleased with one over yourself. Snatch not eagerly at
every advantage offered by his unskilfulness or inattention; but point
out to him kindly, that by such a move he places or leaves a piece in
danger and unsupported; that by another he will put his king in a
perilous situation, &c. By this generous civility (so opposite to the
unfairness above forbidden) you may, indeed, happen to lose the game to
your opponent; but you will win what is better, his esteem, his respect,
and his affection, together with the silent approbation and good-will of
impartial spectators.
TO BENJAMIN VAUGHAN
Passy, Nov. 9, 1779.
DEAR SIR,
I have received several kind Letters from you, which I have not
regularly answered. They gave me however great Pleasure, as they
acquainted me with your Welfare, and that of your Family and other
Friends; and I hope you will continue writing to me as often as you can
do it conveniently.
I thank you much for the great Care and Pains you have taken in
regulating and correcting the Edition of those Papers. Your Friendship
for me appears in almost every Page; and if the Preservation of any of
them should prove of Use to the Publick, it is to you that the Publick
will owe the Obligation. In looking them over, I have noted some Faults
of Impression that hurt the Sense, and some other little Matters, which
you will find all in a Sheet under the title of _Errata_. You can best
judge whether it may be worth while to add any of them to the Errata
already printed, or whether it may not be as well to reserve the whole
for Correction in another Edition, if such should ever be. Inclos'd I
send a more perfect copy of the _Chapter_.[99]
If I should ever recover the Pieces that were in the Hands of my Son,
and those I left among my Papers in America, I think there may be enough
to make three more such Volumes, of which a great part would be more
interesting.
As to the _Time_ of publishing, of which you ask my Opinion I am not
furnish'd with any Reasons, or Ideas of Reasons, on which to form any
Opinion. Naturally I should suppose the Bookseller to be from Experience
the best Judge, and I should be for leaving it to him.
I did not write the Pamphlet you mention. I know nothing of it. I
suppose it is the same, concerning which Dr. Priestley formerly asked me
the same Question. That for which he took it was intitled, _A
Dissertation on Liberty and Necessity, Pleasure and Pain_, with these
Lines in the Title Page.
"Whatever is, is right. But purblind Man
Sees but a part o' the Chain, the nearest Link;
His Eye not carrying to that equal Beam,
That poises all above."
DRYDEN.
_London, Printed M. D. C. C. X. X. V._
It was addressed to Mr. J. R., that is, James Ralph, then a youth of
about my age, and my intimate friend; afterwards a political writer and
historian. The purport of it was to prove the doctrine of fate, from the
supposed attributes of God; in some such manner as this: that in
erecting and governing the world, as he was infinitely wise, he knew
what would be best; infinitely good, he must be disposed, and infinitely
powerful, he must be able to execute it: consequently all is right.
There were only an hundred copies printed, of which I gave a few to
friends, and afterwards disliking the piece, as conceiving it might have
an ill tendency, I burnt the rest, except one copy, the margin of which
was filled with manuscript notes by Lyons, author of the Infallibility
of Human Judgment, who was at that time another of my acquaintance in
London. I was not nineteen years of age when it was written. In 1730, I
wrote a piece on the other side of the question, which began with laying
for its foundation this fact: "That almost all men in all ages and
countries, have at times made use of prayer." Thence I reasoned, that if
all things are ordained, prayer must among the rest be ordained. But as
prayer can produce no change in things that are ordained, praying must
then be useless and an absurdity. God would therefore not ordain praying
if everything else was ordained. But praying exists, therefore all
things are not ordained, etc. This pamphlet was never printed, and the
manuscript has been long lost. The great uncertainty I found in
metaphysical reasonings disgusted me, and I quitted that kind of reading
and study for others more satisfactory.
I return the Manuscripts you were so obliging as to send me; I am
concern'd at your having no other copys, I hope these will get safe to
your hands. I do not remember the Duke de Chaulnes showing me the Letter
you mention. I have received Dr. Crawford's book, but not your Abstract,
which I wait for as you desire.
I send you also M. Dupont's _Table Economique_, which I think an
excellent Thing, as it contains in a clear Method all the principles of
that new sect, called here _les Économistes_.
Poor Henley's dying in that manner is inconceivable to me. Is any Reason
given to account for it, besides insanity?
Remember me affectionately to all your good Family, and believe me, with
great Esteem, my dear Friend, yours, most sincerely,
B. FRANKLIN.
THE WHISTLE[100]
TO MADAME BRILLON
Passy, November 10, 1779.
I received my dear friend's two letters, one for Wednesday and one for
Saturday. This is again Wednesday. I do not deserve one for to-day,
because I have not answered the former. But, indolent as I am, and
averse to writing, the fear of having no more of your pleasing epistles,
if I do not contribute to the correspondence, obliges me to take up my
pen; and as Mr. B. has kindly sent me word, that he sets out to-morrow
to see you, instead of spending this Wednesday evening as I have done
its namesakes, in your delightful company, I sit down to spend it in
thinking of you, in writing to you, and in reading over and over again
your letters.
I am charmed with your description of Paradise, and with your plan of
living there; and I approve much of your conclusion, that, in the mean
time, we should draw all the good we can from this world. In my opinion,
we might all draw more good from it than we do, and suffer less evil, if
we would take care not to give too much for _whistles_. For to me it
seems, that most of the unhappy people we meet with, are become so by
neglect of that caution.
You ask what I mean? You love stories, and will excuse my telling one of
myself.
When I was a child of seven years old, my friends, on a holiday, filled
my pocket with coppers. I went directly to a shop where they sold toys
for children; and, being charmed with the sound of a _whistle_, that I
met by the way in the hands of another boy, I voluntarily offered and
gave all my money for one. I then came home, and went whistling all over
the house, much pleased with my _whistle_, but disturbing all the
family. My brothers, and sisters, and cousins, understanding the bargain
I had made, told me I had given four times as much for it as it was
worth; put me in mind what good things I might have bought with the rest
of the money; and laughed at me so much for my folly, that I cried with
vexation; and the reflection gave me more chagrin than the _whistle_
gave me pleasure.
This however was afterwards of use to me, the impression continuing on
my mind; so that often, when I was tempted to buy some unnecessary
thing, I said to myself, _Don't give too much for the whistle_; and I
saved my money.
As I grew up, came into the world, and observed the actions of men, I
thought I met with many, very many, who _gave too much for the whistle_.
When I saw one too ambitious of court favour, sacrificing his time in
attendance on levees, his repose, his liberty, his virtue, and perhaps
his friends, to attain it, I have said to myself, _This man gives too
much for his whistle_.
When I saw another fond of popularity, constantly employing himself in
political bustles, neglecting his own affairs, and ruining them by that
neglect, _He pays, indeed_, said I, _too much for his whistle_.
If I knew a miser, who gave up every kind of comfortable living, all the
pleasure of doing good to others, all the esteem of his fellow-citizens,
and the joys of benevolent friendship, for the sake of accumulating
wealth, _Poor man_, said I, _you pay too much for your whistle_.
When I met with a man of pleasure, sacrificing every laudable
improvement of the mind, or of his fortune, to mere corporeal
sensations, and ruining his health in their pursuit, _Mistaken man_,
said I, _you are providing pain for yourself, instead of pleasure; you
give too much for your whistle_.
If I see one fond of appearance, or fine clothes, fine houses, fine
furniture, fine equipages, all above his fortune, for which he contracts
debts, and ends his career in a prison, _Alas!_ say I, _he has paid
dear, very dear, for his whistle_.
When I see a beautiful, sweet-tempered girl married to an ill-natured
brute of a husband, _What a pity_, say I, _that she should pay so much
for a whistle_!
In short, I conceive that great part of the miseries of mankind are
brought upon them by the false estimates they have made of the value of
things, and by their _giving too much for their whistles_.
Yet I ought to have charity for these unhappy people, when I consider,
that, with all this wisdom of which I am boasting, there are certain
things in the world so tempting, for example, the apples of King John,
which happily are not to be bought; for if they were put to sale by
auction, I might very easily be led to ruin myself in the purchase, and
find that I had once more given too much for the _whistle_.
Adieu, my dear friend, and believe me ever yours very sincerely and with
unalterable affection,
B. FRANKLIN.
THE LORD'S PRAYER
[1779?]
OLD VERSION
1. Our Father which art in Heaven,
2. Hallowed be thy Name.
3. Thy Kingdom come.
4. Thy will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven.
5. Give us this Day our daily Bread.
6. Forgive us our Debts as we forgive our Debtors.
And lead us not into Temptation, but deliver us from Evil.
NEW VERSION BY B. F.
1. Heavenly Father,
2. May all revere thee,
3. And become thy dutiful Children and faithful Subjects.
4. May thy Laws be obeyed on Earth as perfectly as they are in Heaven.
5. Provide for us this Day as thou hast hitherto daily done.
6. Forgive us our Trespasses and enable us likewise to forgive
those that offend us.
7. Keep us out of Temptation, and deliver us from Evil.--
_Reasons for the Change of Expression_
Old Version. _Our Father which art in Heaven._
New V.--_Heavenly Father_, is more concise, equally expressive, and
better modern English.--
Old V.--_Hallowed be thy Name._ This seems to relate to an Observance
among the Jews not to pronounce the proper or peculiar Name of God,
they deeming it a Profanation so to do. We have in our Language no
_proper Name_ for God; the Word _God_ being a common or general Name,
expressing all chief Objects of Worship, true or false. The Word
_hallowed_ is almost obsolete. People now have but an imperfect
Conception of the Meaning of the Petition. It is therefore proposed
to change the expression into
New V.--_May all revere thee._
Old V.--_Thy Kingdom come._ This Petition seems suited to the then
Condition of the Jewish Nation. Originally their State was a
Theocracy. God was their King. Dissatisfied with that kind of
Government, they desired a visible earthly King in the manner of the
Nations round them. They had such Kings accordingly; but their
Offerings were _due_ to God on many Occasions by the Jewish Law,
which when People could not pay, or had forgotten as Debtors are apt
to do, it was proper to pray that those Debts might be forgiven. Our
Liturgy uses neither the _Debtors_ of Matthew, nor the _indebted_ of
Luke, but instead of them speaks of _those that trespass against us_.
Perhaps the Considering it as a Christian Duty to forgive Debtors,
was by the Compilers thought an inconvenient Idea in a trading
Nation.--There seems however something presumptuous in this Mode of
Expression, which has the Air of proposing ourselves as an Example of
Goodness fit for God to imitate. _We hope you will at least be as
good as we are_; you see we forgive one another, and therefore we
pray that you would forgive us. Some have considered it in another
sense, _Forgive us as we forgive others_; i.e. If we do not forgive
others we pray that thou wouldst not forgive us. But this being a
kind of conditional _Imprecation_ against ourselves, seems improper
in such a Prayer; and therefore it may be better to say humbly &
modestly
New V.--_Forgive us our Trespasses, and enable us likewise to forgive
those that offend us._ This instead of assuming that we have already
in & of ourselves the Grace of Forgiveness, acknowledges our
Dependance on God, the Fountain of Mercy for any Share we may have in
it, praying that he would communicate of it to us.--
Old V.--_And lead us not into Temptation._ The Jews had a Notion, that
God sometimes tempted, or directed or permitted the Tempting of
People. Thus it was said he tempted Pharaoh; directed Satan to tempt
Job; and a false Prophet to tempt Ahab, &c. Under this Persuasion it
was natural for them to pray that he would not put them to such
severe Trials. We now suppose that Temptation, so far as it is
supernatural, comes from the Devil only, and this Petition continued
conveys a Suspicion which in our present Conception seems unworthy of
God, therefore might be altered to
New V.--_Keep us out of Temptation._ Happiness was not increas'd by the
Change, and they had reason to wish and pray for a Return of the
Theocracy, or Government of God. Christians in these Times have other
Ideas when they speak of the Kingdom of God, such as are perhaps more
adequately express'd by
New V.--_And become thy dutiful Children & faithful Subjects._
Old V.--_Thy Will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven._
New V.--_May thy Laws be obeyed on Earth as perfectly as they are in
Heaven._
Old V.--_Give us this Day our daily Bread._ Give us what is _ours_,
seems to put us in a Claim of Right, and to contain too little of the
grateful Acknowledgment and Sense of Dependance that becomes
Creatures who live on the daily Bounty of their Creator. Therefore it
is changed to
New V.--_Provide for us this Day, as thou hast hitherto daily done._