"Full many a peevish, envious, slanderous ElfIs, in his Works, Benevolence itself.For all Mankind, unknown, his Bosom heaves;He only injures those, with whom he lives.Read then the Man;—doesTruthhis Actions guide,Exempt fromPetulance, exempt fromPride?To social Duties does his Heart attend,As Son, as Father, Husband, Brother,Friend?Do those, who know him, love him?If they do,You'vemyPermission: you may love him too."
"Full many a peevish, envious, slanderous ElfIs, in his Works, Benevolence itself.For all Mankind, unknown, his Bosom heaves;He only injures those, with whom he lives.Read then the Man;—doesTruthhis Actions guide,Exempt fromPetulance, exempt fromPride?To social Duties does his Heart attend,As Son, as Father, Husband, Brother,Friend?Do those, who know him, love him?If they do,You'vemyPermission: you may love him too."
Nothing can please me more than to see your philosophical Improvements when you have Leisure to communicate them to me. I still owe you a long Letter on that Subject, which I shall pay. I am vex'd with Mr. James, that he has been so dilatory in Mr. Maddison'sArmonica. I was unlucky in both the Workmen, that I permitted to undertake making those Instruments. The first was fanciful, and never could work to the purpose, because he was ever conceiving some new Improvement, that answer'd no End. The other I doubt is absolutely idle. I have recommended a Number to him from hence, but must stop my hand.
Adieu, my dear Polly, and believe me as ever, with the sincerestEsteem and Regard, your truly affectionate Friend and humble Servant,
B. Franklin.
P.S. My love to Mrs. Tickell and Mrs. Rooke, and to Pitty, when you write to her. Mrs. Franklin and Sally desire to be affectionately remember'd to you. I find the printed Poetry I intended to enclose will be too bulky to send per the Packet. I shall send it by a Ship, that goes shortly from hence.
March 14, 1764.
Dear Doctor,—
I received your favour of the 10th of December. It was a great deal for one to write whose time was so little his own. By the way, when do you intend to live?—i.e., to enjoy life. When will you retire to your villa, give yourself repose, delight in viewing the operations of nature in the vegetable creation, assist her in her works, get your ingenious friends at times about you, make them happy with your conversation, and enjoy theirs: or, if alone, amuse yourself with your books and elegant collections?
To be hurried about perpetually from one sick chamber to another is not living. Do you please yourself with the fancy that you are doing good? You are mistaken. Half the lives you save are not worth saving, as being useless, and almost all the other half ought not to be saved, as being mischievous. Does your conscience never hint to you the impiety of being in constant warfare against the plans of Providence? Disease was intended as the punishment of intemperence, sloth, and other vices, and the example of that punishment was intended to promote and strengthen the opposite virtues. But here you step in officiously with your Art, disappoint those wise intentions of nature, and make men safe in their excesses, whereby you seem to me to be of just the same service to society as some favourite first minister who out of the great benevolence of his heart should procure pardons of all criminals that applied to him; only think of the consequences.
You tell me the Quakers are charged on your side of the water with being, by their aggressions, the cause of the war. Would you believe it that they are charged here, not with offending the Indians and thereby provoking the war, but with gaining their friendship by presents, supplying them privately with arms and ammunition, and engaging them to fall upon and murder the poor white people on the frontiers? Would you think it possible that thousands even here should be made to believe this, and many hundreds of them be raised in arms, not only to kill some converted Indians, supposed to be under the Quakers' protection, but to punish the Quakers who were supposed to give that protection? Would you think these people audacious enough to avow such designs in a public declaration sent to the Governor? Would you imagine that innocent Quakers, men of fortune and character, should think it necessary to fly for safety out of Philadelphia into the Jersies, fearing the violence of such armed mobs, and confiding little in the power or inclination of the government to protect them? And would you imagine that strong suspicions now prevail that those mobs, after committing so barbarous murders hitherto unpunished, are privately tampered with to be made instruments of government to awe the Assembly into proprietary measures? And yet all this has happened within a few weeks past.
More wonders. You know that I don't love the proprietary and that he does not love me. Our totally different tempers forbid it. You might therefore expect that the late new appointments of one of his family would find me ready for opposition. And yet when his nephew arrived, our Governor, I considered government as government, and paid him all respect, gave him on all occasions my best advice, promoted in the Assembly a ready compliance with every thing he proposed or recommended, and when those daring rioters, encouraged by general approbation of the populace, treated his proclamation with contempt, I drew my pen in the cause; wrote a pamphlet (that I have sent you) to render the rioters unpopular; promoted an association to support the authority of the Government anddefend the Governor by taking arms, signed it first myself and was followed by several hundreds, who took arms accordingly. The Governor offered me the command of them, but I chose to carry a musket and strengthen his authority by setting an example of obedience to his order. And would you think it, this proprietary Governor did me the honour, in an alarm, to run to my house at midnight, with his counsellors at his heels, for advice, and made it his head-quarters for some time. And within four and twenty hours, your old friend was a common soldier, a counsellor, a kind of dictator, an ambassador to the country mob, and on his returning home, nobody again. All this has happened in a few weeks.
More wonders! The Assembly received a Governor of the Proprietary family with open arms, addressed him with sincere expressions of kindness and respect, opened their purses to them, and presented him with six hundred pounds; made a Riot Act and prepared a Militia Bill immediately, at his instance, granted supplies, and did everything that he requested, and promised themselves great happiness under his administration. But suddenly his dropping all inquiries after the murderers, and his answering the disputes of the rioters privately and refusing the presence of the Assembly who were equally concerned in the matters contained in their remonstrance, brings him under suspicion; his insulting the Assembly without the least provocation by charging them with disloyalty and with making an infringement on the King's prerogatives, only because they had presumed to name in a bill offered for his assent a trifling officer (somewhat like one of your toll-gatherers at a turnpike) without consulting him, and his refusing several of their bills or proposing amendments needless disgusting.
These things bring him and his government into sudden contempt. All regard for him in the Assembly is lost. All hopes of happiness under a Proprietary Government are at an end. It has now scarce authority enough to keep the common peace, and was another to come, I question, though a dozen men were sufficient, whether one could find so many in Philadelphia willing to rescue him or his Attorney General, I won't say fromhanging, but from any common insult. All this too happened in a few weeks.
In fine, everything seems in this country, once the land of peace and order, to be running fast into anarchy and confusion. But we hope there is virtue enough in your great nation to support a good Prince in the execution of a good government and the exercise of his just prerogatives against all the attempts of unreasonable faction. I have been already too long. Adieu, my dear friend, and believe me ever, yours affectionately,
B. Franklin.
Reedy Island, 7 at night, November 8, 1764.
My Dear Sally,
We got down here at sunset, having taken in more live stock at Newcastle, with some other things we wanted. Our good friends, Mr. Galloway, Mr. Wharton, and Mr. James, came with me in the ship from Chester to Newcastle and went ashore there. It was kind to favour me with their good company as far as they could. The affectionate leave taken of me by so many friends at Chester was very endearing. God bless them and all Pennsylvania.
My dear child, the natural prudence and goodness of heart God has blest you with make it less necessary for me to be particular in giving you advice. I shall therefore only say, that the more attentively dutiful and tender you are towards your good mamma, the more you will recommend yourself to me. But why should I mentionme, when you have so much higher a promise in the commandments, that such conduct will recommend you to the favour of God. You know I have many enemies, all indeed on the public account, (for I cannot recollect that I have in a private capacity given just cause of offence to any one whatever,) yet they are enemies, and very bitter ones; and you must expect their enmity will extend in some degree to you, so that your slightest indiscretions will be magnified into crimes, in order the more sensibly to wound and afflict me. It is therefore the more necessary for you to be extremely circumspectin all your behaviour, that no advantage may be given to their malevolence.
Go constantly to church, whoever preaches. The act of devotion in the Common Prayer Book is your principal business there, and if properly attended to, will do more towards amending the heart than sermons generally can do. For they were composed by men of much greater piety and wisdom, than our common composers of sermons can pretend to be; and therefore I wish you would never miss the prayer days; yet I do not mean you should despise sermons, even of the preachers you dislike, for the discourse is often much better than the man, as sweet and clear waters come through very dirty earth. I am the more particular on this head, as you seemed to express a little before I came away some inclination to leave our church, which I would not have you do.
For the rest, I would only recommend to you in my absence, to acquire those useful accomplishments, arithmetic and bookkeeping. This you might do with ease, if you would resolve not to see company on the hours you set apart for those studies.
We expect to be at sea to-morrow, if this wind holds; after which I shall have no opportunity of writing to you, till I arrive (if it please God I do arrive) in England. I pray that his blessing may attend you, which is worth more than a thousand of mine, though they are never wanting. Give my love to your brother and sister,[67]as I cannot write to them, and remember me affectionately to the young ladies your friends, and to our good neighbours. I am, my dear child, your affectionate father,
B. Franklin.
IN LANCASTER COUNTY, OF A NUMBER OF INDIANS, FRIENDS OF THIS PROVINCE, BY PERSONS UNKNOWN. WITH SOME OBSERVATIONS ON THE SAME.[68]
[1764]
... OnWednesday, the 14th ofDecember, 1763, Fifty-seven Men, from some of our Frontier Townships, who had projectedthe Destruction of this little Commonwealth, came, all well mounted, and armed with Firelocks, Hangers and Hatchets, having travelled through the Country in the Night, toConestogoeManor. There they surrounded the small Village ofIndianHuts, and just at Break of Day broke into them all at once. Only three Men, two Women, and a young Boy, were found at home, the rest being out among the neighbouring White People, some to sell the Baskets, Brooms and Bowls they manufactured, and others on other Occasions. These poor defenceless Creatures were immediately fired upon, stabbed, and hatcheted to Death! The goodShehaes, among the rest, cut to Pieces in his Bed. All of them were scalped and otherwise horribly mangled. Then their Huts were set on Fire, and most of them burnt down. When the Troop, pleased with their own Conduct and Bravery, but enraged that any of the poorIndianshad escaped the Massacre, rode off, and in small Parties, by different Roads, went home.
The universal Concern of the neighbouring White People on hearing of this Event, and the Lamentations of the youngerIndians, when they returned and saw the Desolation, and the butchered half-burnt Bodies of their murdered Parents and other Relations, cannot well be expressed.
Notwithstanding this Proclamation [by the Governor], those cruel men again assembled themselves, and hearing that the remaining fourteenIndianswere in the Workhouse atLancaster, they suddenly appeared in that Town, on the 27th ofDecember. Fifty of them, armed as before, dismounting, went directly to the Workhouse, and by Violence broke open the Door, and entered with the utmost Fury in their Countenances. When the poor Wretches saw they hadno Protectionnigh, nor could possibly escape, and being without the least Weapon for Defence, they divided into their little Families, the Children clinging to the Parents; they fell on their Knees, protested their Innocence, declared their Love to theEnglish, and that, in their whole Lives, they had never done them Injury; and in this Posture they all received the Hatchet! Men, Women and littleChildren were every one inhumanly murdered!—in cold Blood!
The barbarous Men who committed the atrocious Fact, in defiance of Government, of all Laws human and divine, and to the eternal Disgrace of their Country and Colour, then mounted their Horses, huzza'd in Triumph, as if they had gained a Victory, and rode off—unmolested!
The Bodies of the Murdered were then brought out and exposed in the Street, till a Hole could be made in the Earth to receive and cover them.
But the Wickedness cannot be covered, the Guilt will lie on the whole Land, till Justice is done on the Murderers.The Blood of the Innocent will cry to Heaven for Vengeance.
If anIndianinjures me, does it follow that I may revenge that Injury on allIndians? It is well known, thatIndiansare of different Tribes, Nations and Languages, as well as the White People. InEuropeif theFrench, who are White People, should injure theDutch, are they to revenge it on theEnglish, because they too are White People? The only Crime of these poor Wretches seems to have been, that they had a reddish-brown Skin, and black Hair; and some People of that Sort, it seems, had murdered some of our Relations. If it be right to kill Men for such a Reason, then, should any Man, with a freckled Face and red Hair, kill a Wife or Child of mine, it would be right for me to revenge it, by killing all the freckled red-haired Men, Women and Children, I could afterwards anywhere meet with.
But it seems these People think they have a better Justification; nothing less than theWord of God. With the Scriptures in their Hands and Mouths, they can set at nought that express Command,Thou shalt do no Murder; and justify their Wickedness by the Command givenJoshuato destroy the Heathen. Horrid Perversion of Scripture and of Religion! To father the worst of Crimes on the God of Peace and Love! Even theJews, to whom that particular Commission was directed, spared theGibeonites, on Account of their Faith once given. The Faithof this Government has been frequently given to thoseIndians; but that did not avail them with People who despise Government.
We pretend to beChristians, and, from the superior Light we enjoy, ought to exceedHeathens,Turks,Saracens,Moors,NegroesandIndians, in the Knowledge and Practice of what is right. I will endeavour to show, by a few Examples from Books and History, the Sense those People have had of such Actions.
Homer wrote his Poem, called theOdyssey, some Hundred Years before the Birth of Christ. He frequently speaks of what he calls not onlythe Duties, butthe Sacred Rites of Hospitality, (exercised towards Strangers, while in our House or Territory) as including, besides all the common Circumstances of Entertainment, full Safety and Protection of Person, from all Danger of Life, from all Injuries, and even Insults. The Rites of Hospitality were calledsacred, because the Stranger, the Poor, and the Weak, when they applied for Protection and Relief, were, from the Religion of those Times, supposed to be sent by the Deity to try the Goodness of Men, and that he would avenge the Injuries they might receive, where they ought to have been protected. These Sentiments therefore influenced the Manners of all Ranks of People, even the meanest; for we find that whenUlyssescame, as a poor Stranger, to the Hut of Eumæus, the Swineherd, and his great Dogs ran out to tear the ragged Man,Eumæusdrave them away with Stones; and
"'Unhappy Stranger!' (thus the faithful SwainBegan, with Accent gracious and humane,)'What Sorrow had been mine, if atmyGateThy rev'rend Age had met a shameful Fate!But enter this my homely Roof, and seeOur Woods not void of Hospitality.'He said, and seconding the kind Request,With friendly Step precedes the unknown Guest,A shaggy Goat's soft Hide beneath him spread,And with fresh Rushes heap'd an ample Bed.Joy touch'd the Hero's tender Soul, to findSo just Reception from a Heart so kind:And [']Oh, ye Gods! with all your Blessings grace'(He thus broke forth) 'this Friend of human Race![']The Swain reply'd. [']It never was our guiseTo slight the Poor, or aught humane despise.For Jove unfolds the hospitable Door,'Tis Jove that sends the Stranger and the Poor.[']"[69]
"'Unhappy Stranger!' (thus the faithful SwainBegan, with Accent gracious and humane,)'What Sorrow had been mine, if atmyGateThy rev'rend Age had met a shameful Fate!But enter this my homely Roof, and seeOur Woods not void of Hospitality.'He said, and seconding the kind Request,With friendly Step precedes the unknown Guest,A shaggy Goat's soft Hide beneath him spread,And with fresh Rushes heap'd an ample Bed.Joy touch'd the Hero's tender Soul, to findSo just Reception from a Heart so kind:And [']Oh, ye Gods! with all your Blessings grace'(He thus broke forth) 'this Friend of human Race![']The Swain reply'd. [']It never was our guiseTo slight the Poor, or aught humane despise.For Jove unfolds the hospitable Door,'Tis Jove that sends the Stranger and the Poor.[']"[69]
These Heathen People thought, that after a Breach of the Rites of Hospitality, a Curse from Heaven would attend them in every thing they did, and even their honest Industry in their Callings would fail of Success. Thus whenUlyssestellsEumæus, who doubted the Truth of what he related, "If I deceive you in this, I should deserve Death, and I consent that you should put me to Death,"Eumæusrejects the Proposal, as what would be attended with both Infamy and Misfortune, saying ironically,
"Doubtless, O Guest! great Laud and Praise were mine,If, after social Rites and Gifts bestow'd,I stain'd my Hospitable Hearth with Blood.How would the Gods my righteous Toils succeed,And bless the Hand that made a Stranger bleed?No more."—
"Doubtless, O Guest! great Laud and Praise were mine,If, after social Rites and Gifts bestow'd,I stain'd my Hospitable Hearth with Blood.How would the Gods my righteous Toils succeed,And bless the Hand that made a Stranger bleed?No more."—
Even an open Enemy, in the Heat of Battle, throwing down his Arms, submitting to his Foe, and asking Life and Protection, was supposed to acquire an immediate Right to that Protection. Thus one describes his being saved, when his Party was defeated;
"We turn'd to Flight; the gath'ring Vengeance spreadOn all Parts round, and Heaps on Heaps lie dead.The radiant Helmet from my Brows unlac'd,And lo, on Earth my Shield and Javelin cast,I meet the Monarch with a Suppliant's Face,Approach his Chariot, and his Knees embrace.He heard, he sav'd, he plac'd me at his Side;My State he pity'd, and my Tears he dry'd;Restrain'd the Rage the vengeful Foe express'd,And turn'd the deadly Weapons from my Breast.Pious to guard the Hospitable Rite,And fearing Jove, whom Mercy's Works delight."
"We turn'd to Flight; the gath'ring Vengeance spreadOn all Parts round, and Heaps on Heaps lie dead.The radiant Helmet from my Brows unlac'd,And lo, on Earth my Shield and Javelin cast,I meet the Monarch with a Suppliant's Face,Approach his Chariot, and his Knees embrace.He heard, he sav'd, he plac'd me at his Side;My State he pity'd, and my Tears he dry'd;Restrain'd the Rage the vengeful Foe express'd,And turn'd the deadly Weapons from my Breast.Pious to guard the Hospitable Rite,And fearing Jove, whom Mercy's Works delight."
The Suitors ofPenelopeare by the same ancient Poet described as a sett of lawless Men, who wereregardless of the sacred Rites of Hospitality. And therefore when the Queen was informed they were slain, and that byUlysses, she, not believing thatUlysseswas returned, says,
"Ah no! some God the Suitors Deaths decreed,Some God descends, and by his Hand they bleed:Blind, to contemn the Stranger's righteous Cause,And violate all hospitable Laws!... The Powers they defy'd;But Heav'n is just, and by a God they dy'd."
"Ah no! some God the Suitors Deaths decreed,Some God descends, and by his Hand they bleed:Blind, to contemn the Stranger's righteous Cause,And violate all hospitable Laws!... The Powers they defy'd;But Heav'n is just, and by a God they dy'd."
Now I am about to mention something ofIndians, I beg that I may not be understood as framing Apologies forall Indians. I am far from desiring to lessen the laudable Spirit of Resentment in my Countrymen against those now at War with us, so far as it is justified by their Perfidy and Inhumanity. I would only observe, that theSix Nations, as a Body, have kept Faith with theEnglishever since we knew them, now near an Hundred Years; and that the governing Part of those People have had Notions of Honour, whatever may be the Case with the Rum-debauched, Trader-corrupted Vagabonds and Thieves on theSasquehannahandOhio, at present in Arms against us.
Unhappy People! to have lived in such Times, and by such Neighbours! We have seen, that they would have been safer among the ancientHeathens, with whom the Rites of Hospitality weresacred. They would have been considered asGuestsof the Publick, and the Religion of the Country would have operated in their Favour. But our Frontier People call themselvesChristians! They would have been safer, if they had submitted to theTurks; for ever sinceMahomet'sReproof toKhaled, even the cruelTurksnever kill Prisoners in cold Blood. These were not even Prisoners. But what is the Example ofTurksto ScriptureChristians? They would have been safer, though they had been taken in actual War against theSaracens, if they had once drank Water with them. These were not takenin War against us, and have drank with us, and we with them, for Fourscore Years. But shall we compareSaracenstoChristians?
They would have been safer among theMoorsinSpain, though they had been Murderers of Sons; if Faith had once been pledged to them, and a Promise of Protection given. But these have had the Faith of theEnglishgiven to them many Times by the Government, and, in Reliance on that Faith, they lived among us, and gave us the Opportunity of murdering them. However, what was honourable inMoors, may not be a Rule to us; for we areChristians! They would have been safer it seems amongPopish Spaniards, even if Enemies, and delivered into their Hands by a Tempest. These were not Enemies; they were born among us, and yet we have killed them all. But shall we imitateidolatrous Papists, we that areenlightened Protestants? They would have even been safer among theNegroesofAfrica, where at least one manly Soul would have been found, with Sense, Spirit and Humanity enough, to stand in their Defence. But shallWhitemenandChristiansact like aPagan Negroe? In short it appears, that they would have been safe in any Part of the known World, except in the Neighbourhood of theChristian white SavagesofPeckstangandDonesgall!
O, ye unhappy Perpetrators of this horrid Wickedness! reflect a Moment on the Mischief ye have done, the Disgrace ye have brought on your Country, on your Religion, and your Bible, on your Families and Children! Think on the Destruction of your captivated Country-folks (now among the wildIndians) which probably may follow, in Resentment of your Barbarity! Think on the Wrath of the UnitedFive Nations, hitherto our Friends, but now provoked by your murdering one of their Tribes, in Danger of becoming our bitter Enemies. Think of the mild and good Government you have so audaciously insulted; the Laws of your King, your Country, and your God, that you have broken; the infamous Death that hangs over your Heads; for Justice, though slow, will come at last. All good People everywhere detest your Actions. You have imbrued your Hands in innocent Blood; how will you make them clean? The dying Shrieks and Groans of the Murdered,will often sound in your Ears: Their Spectres will sometimes attend you, and affright even your innocent Children! Fly where you will, your Consciences will go with you. Talking in your Sleep shall betray you, in the Delirium of a Fever you yourselves shall make your own Wickedness known.
Let us rouze ourselves, for Shame, and redeem the Honour of our Province from the Contempt of its Neighbours; let all good Men join heartily and unanimously in Support of the Laws, and in strengthening the Hands of Government; thatJusticemay be done, the Wicked punished, and the Innocent protected; otherwise we can, as a People, expect no Blessing from Heaven; there will be no Security for our Persons or Properties; Anarchy and Confusion will prevail over all; and Violence without Judgment, dispose of every Thing.
Monday, May 20, [1765].
Sir,
In your Paper of Wednesday last, an ingenious Correspondent that calls himselfThe Spectator, and dates fromPimlico, under the Guise of Good Will to the News-writers, whom he calls an "useful Body of Men in this great City," has, in my Opinion, artfully attempted to turn them & their Works into Ridicule, wherein if he could succeed, great Injury might be done to the Public as well as to those good People.
Supposing, Sir, that the "We hears" they give us of this & t'other intended Voyage or Tour of this & t'other great Personage, were mere Inventions, yet they at least offer us an innocent Amusement while we read, and useful Matter of Conversation when we are dispos'd to converse.
Englishmen, Sir, are too apt to be silent when they have nothing to say; too apt to be sullen when they are silent; and, when they are sullen, to hang themselves. But, by theseWe hears, we are supplied with abundant funds of Discourse, we discuss the Motives for such Voyages, the Probability of theirbeing undertaken, and the Practicability of their Execution. Here we display our Judgment in Politics, our Knowledge of the Interests of Princes, and our Skill in Geography, and (if we have it) show our Dexterity moreover in Argumentation. In the mean time, the tedious Hour is kill'd, we go home pleas'd with the Applauses we have receiv'd from others, or at least with those we secretly give to ourselves: We sleep soundly, & live on, to the Comfort of our Families. But, Sir, I beg leave to say, that all the Articles of News that seem improbable are not mere Inventions. Some of them, I can assure you on the Faith of a Traveller, are serious Truths. And here, quitting Mr. Spectator of Pimlico, give me leave to instance the various numberless Accounts the Newswriters have given us, with so much honest Zeal for the welfare ofPoor Old England, of the establishing Manufactures in the Colonies to the Prejudice of those of this Kingdom. It is objected by superficial Readers, who yet pretend to some Knowledge of those Countries, that such Establishments are not only improbable, but impossible, for that their Sheep have but little Wooll, not in the whole sufficient for a Pair of Stockings a Year to each Inhabitant; and that, from the Universal Dearness of Labour among them, the Working of Iron and other Materials, except in some few coarse Instances, is impracticable to any Advantage.
Dear Sir, do not let us suffer ourselves to be amus'd with such groundless Objections. The very Tails of the American Sheep are so laden with Wooll, that each has a little Car or Waggon on four little Wheels, to support & keep it from trailing on the Ground.[70]Would they caulk their Ships, would they fill their Beds, would they even litter their Horses with Wooll, if it were not both plenty and cheap? And what signifies Dearness of Labour, when an English Shilling passes for five and Twenty? Their engaging 300 Silk Throwsters here in one Week, for New York, was treated as a Fable, because, forsooth, they have "no Silk there to throw." Those, who made this Objection, perhaps did not know, that at the same time the Agents from the King of Spain were at Quebec to contract for 1000 Pieces of Cannon to be made there for the Fortification of Mexico, and at N Yorkengaging the annual Supply of woven Floor-Carpets for their West India Houses, other Agents from the Emperor of China were at Boston treating about an Exchange of raw Silk for Wooll, to be carried in Chinese Junks through the Straits of Magellan.
And yet all this is as certainly true, as the Account said to be from Quebec, in all the Papers of last Week, that the Inhabitants of Canada are making Preparations for a Cod and Whale Fishery this "Summer in the upper Lakes." Ignorant People may object that the upper Lakes are fresh, and that Cod and Whale are Salt Water Fish: But let them know, Sir, that Cod, like other Fish when attack'd by their Enemies, fly into any Water where they can be safest; that Whales, when they have a mind to eat Cod, pursue them wherever they fly; and that the grand Leap of the Whale in that Chase up the Fall of Niagara is esteemed, by all who have seen it, as one of the finest Spectacles in Nature. Really, Sir, the World is grown too incredulous. It is like the Pendulum ever swinging from one Extream to another. Formerly every thing printed was believed, because it was in print. Now Things seem to be disbelieved for just the very same Reason. Wise Men wonder at the present Growth of Infidelity. They should have consider'd, when they taught People to doubt the Authority of Newspapers and the Truth of Predictions in Almanacks, that the next Step might be a Disbelief in the well vouch'd Accts of Ghosts Witches, and Doubts even of the Truths of the Creed!
Thus much I thought it necessary to say in favour of an honest Set of Writers, whose comfortable Living depends on collecting & supplying the Printers with News at the small Price of Sixpence an Article, and who always show their Regard to Truth, by contradicting in a subsequent Article such as are wrong,—for another Sixpence,—to the great Satisfaction & Improvement of us Coffee-house Students in History & Politics, and the infinite Advantage of all future Livies, Rapins, Robertsons, Humes, and McAulays, who may be sincerely inclin'd to furnish the World with thatrara Avis, a true History. I am, Sir, your humble Servant,
A Traveller.
Craven Street, London, June 2, 1765.
My Dear Lord,
... In my passage to America I read your excellent work, theElements of Criticism, in which I found great entertainment: much to admire and nothing to reprove. I only wished you had examined more fully the subject of Music, and demonstrated, that the pleasure which artists feel in hearing much of that composed in the modern taste, is not the natural pleasure arising from melody or harmony of sounds, but of the same kind with the pleasure we feel on seeing the surprising feats of tumblers and rope-dancers, who execute difficult things. For my part I take this to be really the case, and suppose it is the reason why those, who being unpractised in music, and therefore unacquainted with those difficulties have little or no pleasure in hearing this music. Many pieces of it are mere compositions of tricks. I have sometimes, at a concert, attended by a common audience, placed myself so as to see all their faces, and observed no signs of pleasure in them during the performance of a great part that was admired by the performers themselves; while a plain oldScottish tune, which they disdained, and could scarcely be prevailed on to play, gave manifest and general delight.
Give me leave on this occasion to extend a little the sense of your position, that "Melody and Harmony are separately agreeable, and in union delightful," and to give it as my opinion, that the reason why the Scotch tunes have lived so long, and will probably live for ever (if they escape being stifled in modern affected ornament), is merely this, that they are really compositions of melody and harmony united, or rather that their melody is harmony. I mean the simple tunes sung by a single voice. As this will appear paradoxical, I must explain my meaning. In common acceptation, indeed, only an agreeablesuccessionof sounds is calledMelody, and only theco-existenceof agreeing sounds,Harmony. But, since the memory is capable of retaining for some moments a perfect idea of the pitch of a past sound, so as to compare with it the pitch of a succeeding sound, andjudge truly of their agreement or disagreement, there may and does arise from thence a sense of harmony between the present and past sounds, equally pleasing with that between two present sounds.
Now the construction of the old Scotch tunes is this, that almost every succeedingemphaticalnote is a third, a fifth, an octave, or in short some note that is in concord with the preceding note. Thirds are chiefly used, which are very pleasing concords. I use the wordemphaticalto distinguish those notes which have a stress laid on them in singing the tune, from the lighter connecting notes, that serve merely, like grammar articles, to tack the others together.
That we have a most perfect idea of a sound just past, I might appeal to all acquainted with music, who know how easy it is to repeat a sound in the same pitch with one just heard. In tuning an instrument, a good ear can as easily determine that two strings are in unison by sounding them separately, as by sounding them together; their disagreement is also as easily, I believe I may say more easily and better distinguished, when sounded separately; for when sounded together, though you know by the beating that one is higher than the other, you cannot tell which it is. [I have ascribed to memory the ability of comparing the pitch of a present tone with that of one past. But, if there should be, as possibly there may be, something in the ear, similar to what we find in the eye, that ability would not be entirely owing to memory. Possibly the vibrations given to the auditory nerves by a particular sound may actually continue some time after the cause of those vibrations is past, and the agreement or disagreement of a subsequent sound become by comparison with them more discernible. For the impression made on the visual nerves by a luminous object will continue for twenty or thirty seconds. Sitting in a room, look earnestly at the middle of a window a little while when the day is bright, and then shut your eyes; the figure of the window will still remain in the eye, and so distinct that you may count the panes.
A remarkable circumstance attending this experiment, is, that the impression of forms is better retained than that of colors;for after the eyes are shut, when you first discern the image of the window, the panes appear dark, and the cross bars of the sashes, with the window frames and walls, appear white or bright; but, if you still add to the darkness in the eyes by covering them with your hand, the reverse instantly takes place, the panes appear luminous and the cross bars dark. And by removing the hand they are again reversed. This I know not how to account for. Nor for the following; that, after looking long through green spectacles, the white paper of a book will on first taking them off appear to have a blush of red; and, after long looking through red glasses, a greenish cast; this seems to intimate a relation between green and red not yet explained.]
Farther, when we consider by whom these ancient tunes were composed, and how they were first performed, we shall see that such harmonical succession of sounds was natural and even necessary in their construction. They were composed by the minstrels of those days to be played on the harp accompanied by the voice. The harp was strung with wire, [which gives a sound of long continuance,] and had no contrivance, like that in the modern harpsichord, by which the sound of the preceding could be stoppt, the moment a succeeding note began. To avoidactualdiscord, it was therefore necessary that the succeeding emphatic note should be a chord with the preceding, as their sounds must exist at the same time. Hence arose that beauty in those tunes that has so long pleased, and will please for ever, though men scarce know why. That they were originally composed for the harp, and of the most simple kind, I mean a harp without any half notes but those in the natural scale, and with no more than two octaves of strings, from C to C, I conjecture from another circumstance, which is, that not one of those tunes, really ancient, has a single artificial half note in it, and that in tunes where it was most convenient for the voice to use the middle notes of the harp, and place the key in F, there the B, which if used should be a B flat, is always omitted by passing over it with a third. The connoisseurs in modern music will say, I have no taste; but I cannot help adding, that I believe our ancestors, in hearing a good song,distinctly articulated, sung to one of those tunes, and accompanied by the harp, felt more real pleasure than is communicated by the generality of modern operas, exclusive of that arising from the scenery and dancing. Most tunes of late composition, not having this natural harmony united with their melody, have recourse to the artificial harmony of a bass, and other accompanying parts. This support, in my opinion, the old tunes do not need, and are rather confused than aided by it. Whoever has heard James Oswald play them on his violoncello, will be less inclined to dispute this with me. I have more than once seen tears of pleasure in the eyes of his auditors; and yet, I think, evenhisplaying those tunes would please more, if he gave them less modern ornament. My son, when we parted, desired me to present his Affectionate respects to you, Lady Kames, and your amiable children: be so good with those, to accept mine, and believe me, with sincerest esteem, my dear Lord, &c.
B. Franklin.
P.S. I do promise myself the pleasure of seeing you and my other friends in Scotland, before I return to America.
AND THE PROBABILITY AND EFFECTS OF A UNION WITH GREAT BRITAIN; AND CONCERNING THE REPEAL OR SUSPENSION OF THE STAMP ACT
[London,] January 6, 1766.
Sir,
I have attentively perused the paper you sent me, and am of opinion, that the measure it proposes, of an union with the colonies, is a wise one; but I doubt it will hardly be thought so here, till it is too late to attempt it. The time has been, when the colonies would have esteemed it a great advantage, as well as honour to be permitted to send members to Parliament; and would have asked for that privilege, if they could have had theleast hopes of obtaining it. The time is now come when they are indifferent about it, and will probably not ask it, though they might accept it if offered them; and the time will come, when they will certainly refuse it. But if such an union were now established (which methinks it highly imports this country to establish) it would probably subsist as long as Britain shall continue a nation. This people, however, is too proud, and too much despises the Americans, to bear the thought of admitting them to such an equitable participation in the government of the whole.
Then the next best thing seems to be, leaving them in the quiet enjoyment of their respective constitutions; and when money is wanted for any public service, in which they ought to bear a part, calling upon them by requisitorial letters from the crown (according to the long-established custom) to grant such aids as their loyalty shall dictate, and their abilities permit. The very sensible and benevolent author of that paper seems not to have known, that such a constitutional custom subsists, and has always hitherto been practised in America; or he would not have expressed himself in this manner; "It is evident, beyond a doubt, to the intelligent and impartial, that after the very extraordinary efforts, which were effectually made by Great Britain in the late war to save the colonists from destruction, and attended of necessity with an enormous load of debts in consequence, that the same colonists, now firmly secured from foreign enemies, should be somehow induced to contribute some proportion towards the exigencies of state in future." This looks as if he conceived the war had been carried on at the sole expense of Great Britain, and the colonies only reaped the benefit, without hitherto sharing the burden, and were therefore now indebted to Britain on that account. And this is the same kind of argument that is used by those, who would fix on the colonies the heavy charge of unreasonableness and ingratitude, which I think your friend did not intend.
Please to acquaint him, then, that the fact is not so; that, every year during the war, requisitions were made by the crown on the colonies for raising money and men; that accordingly theymade more extraordinary efforts, in proportion to their abilities, than Britain did; that they raised, paid, and clothed, for five or six years, near twenty-five thousand men, besides providing for other services, as building forts, equipping guardships, paying transports, &c. And that this was more than their fair proportion is not merely an opinion of mine, but was the judgment of government here, in full knowledge of all the facts; for the then ministry, to make the burthen more equal, recommended the case to Parliament, and obtained a reimbursement to the Americans of about two hundred thousand pounds sterling every year; which amounted only to about two fifths of their expense; and great part of the rest lies still a load of debt upon them; heavy taxes on all their estates, real and personal, being laid by acts of their assemblies to discharge it, and yet will not discharge it in many years.
While, then, these burdens continue; while Britain restrains the colonies in every branch of commerce and manufactures that she thinks interferes with her own; while she drains the colonies, by her trade with them, of all the cash they can procure by every art and industry in any part of the world, and thus keeps them always in her debt; (for they can make no law to discourage the importation of your tothemruinous superfluities, asyoudo the superfluities of France; since such a law would immediately be reported against by your Board of Trade, and repealed by the crown;) I say, while these circumstances continue, and while there subsists the established method of royal requisitions for raising money on them by their own assemblies on every proper occasion; can it be necessary or prudent to distress and vex them by taxes laid here, in a Parliament wherein they have no representative, and in a manner which they look upon to be unconstitutional and subversive of their most valuable rights? And are they to be thought unreasonable and ungrateful if they oppose such taxes?
Wherewith, they say, shall we show our loyalty to our gracious King, if our money is to be given by others, without asking our consent? And, if the Parliament has a right thus to take from us a penny in the pound, where is the line drawnthat bounds that right, and what shall hinder their calling, whenever they please, for the other nineteen shillings and eleven pence? Have we then any thing that we can call our own? It is more than probable, that bringing representatives from the colonies to sit and act here as members of Parliament, thus uniting and consolidating your dominions, would in a little time remove these objections and difficulties, and make the future government of the colonies easy; but, till some such thing is done, I apprehend no taxes, laid there by Parliament here, will ever be collected, but such as must be stained with blood; and I am sure the profit of such taxes will never answer the expense of collecting them, and that the respect and affection of the Americans to this country will in the struggle be totally lost, perhaps never to be recovered; and therewith all the commercial and political advantages, that might have attended the continuance of this respect and this affection.
In my own private judgment, I think an immediate repeal of the Stamp Act would be the best measure for this country; but a suspension of it for three years, the best for that. The repeal would fill them with joy and gratitude, reëstablish their respect and veneration for Parliament, restore at once their ancient and natural love for this country, and their regard for every thing that comes from it; hence the trade would be renewed in all its branches; they would again indulge in all the expensive superfluities you supply them with, and their own new-assumed home industry would languish. But the suspension, though it might continue their fears and anxieties, would at the same time keep up their resolutions of industry and frugality; which in two or three years would grow into habits, to their lasting advantage. However, as the repeal will probably not be now agreed to, from what I think a mistaken opinion, that the honour and dignity of government is better supported by persisting in a wrong measure once entered into, than by rectifying an error as soon as it is discovered; we must allow the next best thing for the advantage of both countries, is the suspension; for, as to executing the act by force, it is madness, and will be ruin to the whole.
The rest of your friend's reasonings and propositions appear to me truly just and judicious. I will therefore only add, that I am as desirous of his acquaintance and intimacy, as he was of my opinion.
I am, with much esteem,
Your obliged friend,B. Franklin.
London, April 11, 1767.
My Dear Lord,—
I received your obliging favour of January the 19th. You have kindly relieved me from the pain I had long been under. You are goodness itself. I ought to have answered yours of December 25, 1765. I never received a letter that contained sentiments more suitable to my own. It found me under much agitation of mind on the very important subject it treated. It fortified me greatly in the judgment I was inclined to form (though contrary to the general vogue) on the then delicate and critical situation of affairs between Great Britain and her Colonies, and on that weighty point, theirUnion. You guessed aright in supposing that I would not be amute in that play. I was extremely busy, attending Members of both Houses, informing, explaining, consulting, disputing, in a continual hurry from morning to night, till the affair was happily ended. During the course of it, being called before the House of Commons, I spoke my mind pretty freely. Inclosed I send you the imperfect account that was taken of that examination. You will there see how entirely we agree, except in a point of fact, of which you could not but be misinformed; the papers at that time being full of mistaken assertions, that the colonies had been the cause of the war, and had ungratefully refused to bear any part of the expence of it.
I send it you now, because I apprehend some late incidents are likely to revive the contest between the two countries. I fear it will be a mischievous one. It becomes a matter of greatimportance that clear ideas should be formed on solid principles, both in Britain and America, of the true political relation between them, and the mutual duties belonging to that relation. Till this is done, they will be often jarring. I know none whose knowledge, sagacity and impartiality qualify him so thoroughly for such a service, as yours do you. I wish therefore you would consider it. You may thereby be the happy instrument of great good to the nation, and of preventing much mischief and bloodshed. I am fully persuaded with you, that aConsolidating Union, by a fair and equal representation of all the parts of this empire in Parliament, is the only firm basis on which its political grandeur and prosperity can be founded. Ireland once wished it, but now rejects it. The time has been, when the colonies might have been pleased with it: they are nowindifferentabout it; and if it is much longer delayed, they too willrefuseit. But the pride of this people cannot bear the thought of it, and therefore it will be delayed. Every man in England seems to consider himself as a piece of a sovereign over America; seems to jostle himself into the throne with the King, and talks ofour subjects in the Colonies. The Parliament cannot well and wisely make laws suited to the Colonies, without being properly and truly informed of their circumstances, abilities, temper, &c. This it cannot be, without representatives from thence: and yet it is fond of this power, and averse to the only means of acquiring the necessary knowledge for exercising it; which is desiring to beomnipotent, without beingomniscient.
I have mentioned that the contest is likely to be revived. It is on this occasion. In the same session with the stamp act, an act was passed to regulate the quartering of soldiers in America; when the bill was first brought in, it contained a clause, empowering the officers to quarter their soldiers in private houses: this we warmly opposed, and got it omitted. The bill passed, however, with a clause, that empty houses, barns, &c., should be hired for them, and that the respective provinces where they were should pay the expence and furnish firing, bedding, drink, and some other articles to the soldiersgratis. There is no way for any province to do this, but by the Assembly's making a lawto raise the money. The Pennsylvanian Assembly has made such a law: the New York Assembly has refused to do it: and now all the talk here is of sending a force to compel them.
The reasons given by the Assembly to the Governor, for the refusal, are, that they understand the act to mean the furnishing such things to soldiers, only while on their march through the country, and not to great bodies of soldiers, to be fixt as at present, in the province; the burthen in the latter case being greater than the inhabitants can bear: That it would put it in the power of the Captain-General to oppress the province at pleasure, &c. But there is supposed to be another reason at bottom, which they intimate, though they do not plainly express it; to wit, that it is of the nature of aninternal taxlaid on them by Parliament, which has no right so to do. Their refusal is here calledRebellion, and punishment is thought of.
Now waving that point of right, and supposing the Legislatures in America subordinate to the Legislature of Great Britain, one might conceive, I think, a power in the superior Legislature to forbid the inferior Legislatures making particular laws; but to enjoin it to make a particular law contrary to its own judgment, seems improper; an Assembly or Parliament not being anexecutiveofficer of Government, whose duty it is, in law-making, to obey orders, but adeliberativebody, who are to consider what comes before them, its propriety, practicability, or possibility, and to determine accordingly: The very nature of a Parliament seems to be destroyed, by supposing it may be bound, and compelled by a law of a superior Parliament, to make a law contrary to its own judgment.
Indeed, the act of Parliament in question has not, as in other acts, when a duty is enjoined, directed a penalty on neglect or refusal, and a mode of recovering that penalty. It seems, therefore, to the people in America as a mere requisition, which they are at liberty to comply with or not, as it may suit or not suit the different circumstances of different provinces. Pennsylvania has therefore voluntarily complied. New York, as I said before, has refused. The Ministry that made the act, and all their adherents, call for vengeance. The present Ministry are perplext,and the measures they will finally take on the occasion, are yet unknown. But sure I am, that, ifForceis used, great mischief will ensue; the affections of the people of America to this country will be alienated; your commerce will be diminished; and a total separation of interests be the final consequence.
It is a common, but mistaken notion here, that the Colonies were planted at the expence of Parliament, and that therefore the Parliament has a right to tax them, &c. The truth is, they were planted at the expence of private adventurers, who went over there to settle, with leave of the King, given by charter. On receiving this leave, and those charters, the adventurers voluntarily engaged to remain the King's subjects, though in a foreign country; a country which had not been conquered by either King or Parliament, but was possessed by a free people.
When our planters arrived, they purchased the lands of the natives, without putting King or Parliament to any expence. Parliament had no hand in their settlement, was never so much as consulted about their constitution, and took no kind of notice of them, till many years after they were established. I except only the two modern Colonies, or rather attempts to make Colonies, (for they succeed but poorly, and as yet hardly deserve the name of Colonies), I mean Georgia and Nova Scotia, which have hitherto been little better than Parliamentary jobs. Thus all the colonies acknowledge the King as their sovereign; his Governors there represent his person: Laws are made by their Assemblies or little Parliaments, with the Governor's assent, subject still to the King's pleasure to confirm or annul them: Suits arising in the Colonies, and differences between Colony and Colony, are determined by the King in Council. In this view, they seem so many separate little states, subject to the same Prince. Thesovereignty of theKing is therefore easily understood. But nothing is more common here than to talk of thesovereigntyofParliament, and thesovereignty ofthis Nationover the Colonies; a kind of sovereignty, the idea of which is not so clear, nor does it clearly appear on what foundation it is established. On the other hand, it seems necessaryfor the common good of the empire, that a power be lodged somewhere, to regulate its general commerce: this can be placed nowhere so properly as in the Parliament of Great Britain; and therefore, though that power has in some instances been executed with great partiality to Britain, and prejudice to the Colonies, they have nevertheless always submitted to it. Custom-houses are established in all of them, by virtue of laws made here, and the duties constantly paid, except by a few smugglers, such as are here and in all countries; but internal taxes laid on them by Parliament, are still and ever will be objected to, for the reasons that you will see in the mentioned Examination.
Upon the whole, I have lived so great a part of my life in Britain, and have formed so many friendships in it, that I love it, and sincerely wish it prosperity; and therefore wish to see that Union, on which alone I think it can be secured and established. As to America, the advantages of such a union to her are not so apparent. She may suffer at present under the arbitrary power of this country; she may suffer for a while in a separation from it; but these are temporary evils that she will outgrow. Scotland and Ireland are differently circumstanced. Confined by the sea, they can scarcely increase in numbers, wealth and strength, so as to overbalance England. But America, an immense territory, favoured by Nature with all advantages of climate, soil, great navigable rivers, and lakes, &c. must become a great country, populous and mighty; and will, in a less time than is generally conceived, be able to shake off any shackles that may be imposed on her, and perhaps place them on the imposers. In the mean time, every act of oppression will sour their tempers, lessen greatly, if not annihilate the profits of your commerce with them, and hasten their final revolt; for the seeds of liberty are universally found there, and nothing can eradicate them. And yet, there remains among that people, so much respect, veneration and affection for Britain, that, if cultivated prudently, with kind usage, and tenderness for their privileges, they might be easily governed still for ages, without force, or any considerable expence. But I do not see here a sufficientquantity of the wisdom, that is necessary to produce such a conduct, and I lament the want of it.
I borrowed at Millar's the new edition of yourPrinciples of Equity, and have read with great pleasure the preliminary discourse on the Principles of Morality. I have never before met with any thing so satisfactory on the subject. While reading it, I made a few remarks as I went along. They are not of much importance, but I send you the paper.
I know the lady you mention; having, when in England before, met her once or twice at Lord Bath's. I remember I then entertained the same opinion of her that you express. On the strength of your kind recommendation, I purpose soon to wait on her.
This is unexpectedly grown a long letter. The visit to Scotland, and theArt of Virtue, we will talk of hereafter. It is now time to say, that I am, with increasing esteem and affection, my dear friend, yours ever,[72]
B. Franklin.
Paris, Sept. 14, 1767.
Dear Polly,
I am always pleas'd with a Letter from you, and I flatter myself you may be sometimes pleas'd in receiving one from me, tho' it should be of little Importance, such as this, which is to consist of a few occasional Remarks made here, and in my Journey hither.
Soon after I left you in that agreable Society at Bromley, I took the Resolution of making a Trip with Sir John Pringle[73]into France. We set out the 28th past. All the way to Dover we were furnished with PostChaises, hung so as to lean forward, the Top coming down over one's Eyes, like a Hood, as if to prevent one's seeing the Country; which being one of my great Pleasures, I was engag'd in perpetual Disputes with the Innkeepers, Hostlers, and Postilions, about getting the Straps taken up a Hole or two before, and let down as much behind,they insisting that the Chaise leaning forward was an Ease to the Horses, and that the contrary would kill them. I suppose the chaise leaning forward looks to them like a Willingness to go forward, and that its hanging back shows a Reluctance. They added other Reasons, that were no Reasons at all, and made me, as upon a 100 other Occasions, almost wish that Mankind had never been endow'd with a reasoning Faculty, since they know so little how to make use of it, and so often mislead themselves by it, and that they had been furnish'd with a good sensible Instinct instead of it.
At Dover, the next Morning, we embark'd for Calais with a Number of Passengers, who had never been before at sea. They would previously make a hearty Breakfast, because, if the Wind should fail, we might not get over till Supper time. Doubtless they thought that when they had paid for their Breakfast, they had a Right to it, and that, when they had swallowed it they were sure of it. But they had scarce been out half an Hour, before the Sea laid Claim to it, and they were oblig'd to deliver it up. So it seems there are Uncertainties, even beyond those between the Cup and the Lip. If ever you go to Sea, take my Advice, and live sparingly a Day or two beforehand. The Sickness, if any, will be lighter and sooner over. We got to Calais that Evening.
Various Impositions we suffer'd from Boatmen, Porters, &c. on both Sides the Water. I know not which are most rapacious, the English or French, but the latter have, with their Knavery, the most Politeness.
The Roads we found equally good with ours in England, in some Places pav'd with smooth Stone, like our new Streets, for many Miles together, and Rows of Trees on each Side, and yet there are no Turnpikes. But then the poor Peasants complain'd to us grievously, that they were oblig'd to work upon the Roads full two Months in the Year, without being paid for their Labour. Whether this is Truth, or whether, like Englishmen, they grumble Cause or no Cause, I have not yet been able fully to inform myself.
The Women we saw at Calais, on the Road, at Bouloigne,and in the Inns and Villages, were generally of dark Complexions; but arriving at Abbeville we found a sudden Change, a Multitude of both Women and Men in that Place appearing remarkably fair. Whether this is owing to a small Colony of Spinners, Wool-combers, and Weavers, brought hither from Holland with the Woollen Manufacture about 60 Years ago; or to their being less expos'd to the Sun, than in other Places, their Business keeping them much within Doors, I know not. Perhaps as in some other Cases, different Causes may club in producing the Effect, but the Effect itself is certain. Never was I in a Place of greater Industry, Wheels and Looms going in every House.
As soon as we left Abbeville, the Swarthiness return'd. I speak generally, for here are some fair Women at Paris, who I think are not whiten'd by Art. As to Rouge, they don't pretend to imitate Nature in laying it on. There is no gradual Diminution of the Colour, from the full Bloom in the Middle of the Cheek to the faint Tint near the Sides, nor does it show itself differently in different Faces. I have not had the Honour of being at any Lady's Toylette to see how it is laid on, but I fancy I can tell you how it is or may be done. Cut a Hole of 3 Inches Diameter in a Piece of Paper; place it on the Side of your Face in such a Manner as that the Top of the Hole may be just under your Eye; then with a Brush dipt in the Colour, paint Face and Paper together; so when the Paper is taken off there will remain a round Patch of Red exactly the Form of the Hole. This is the Mode, from the Actresses on the Stage upwards thro' all Ranks of Ladies to the Princesses of the Blood, but it stops there, the Queen not using it, having in the Serenity, Complacence, and Benignity that shine so eminently in, or rather through her Countenance, sufficient Beauty, tho' now an old Woman, to do extreamly well without it.
You see I speak of the Queen as if I had seen her, and so I have; for you must know I have been at Court. We went to Versailles last Sunday, and had the Honour of being presented to the King; he spoke to both of us very graciously and chearfully, is a handsome Man, has a very lively Look, and appearsyounger than he is. In the Evening we were at theGrand Couvert, where the Family sup in Publick. The Form of their Sitting at the Table was this: The table was as you see half a Hollow Square, the Service Gold. When either made a Sign for Drink, the Word was given by one of the Waiters;A boire pour le Roy, or,A boire pour la Reine. Then two persons within the Square approach'd, one with Wine[,] the other with Water inCaraffes; each drank a little Glass of what he brought, and then put both theCaraffeswith a Glass on a Salver, and presented it. Their Distance from each other was such, as that other Chairs might have been plac'd between any two of them. An Officer of the Court brought us up thro' the Crowd of Spectators, and plac'd Sir John so as to stand between the King and Madame Adelaide, and me between the Queen and Madame Victoire. The King talk'd a good deal to Sir John, asking many Questions about our Royal Family; and did me too the Honour of taking some Notice of me; that's saying enough, for I would not have you think me so much pleas'd with this King and Queen, as to have a Whit less regard than I us'd to have for ours. No Frenchman shall go beyond me in thinking my own King and Queen the very best in the World, and the most amiable.