afide, when the foul is to enter into real life. This is rather an embryo ftate, a preparation for living. A man is not completely born until he be dead. Why then should we grieve that a new child is born among the immortals, a new member added to their happy fociety? We are fpirits... That bodies fhould be lent us, while they can afford us pleafure affift us in acquiring knowledge, or doing good, to our fello v-creatures, is a kind and benevolent act of God. When they become unfit for thefe purposes, and afford us pain inftead of pleafure, inftead of an aid become an incumbrance, and anfwer none of the intentions for which they were given, it is equally kind and benevolent that a way is provided by which we may get rid of them Death is that way. We ourfelves, in fome cafes, prudently choose a partial death. A mangled painful limb, which cannot be restored, lingly cut off. He who plucks out a tooth, parts with it freely, fince the pain goes with it and he who quits the whole body, parts at once with all pains, and poffibilities of pains and difeafes, it was liable to, or capable of making him fuffer.

we wil

Our friend and we were invited abroad on a party of pleasure, which is to laft for ever. His chair was ready firft; and he is gone before us. We could not all conveniently ftart together: and why fhould and I be grieved at this, fince we are foon to follow, and know where to find him?

Adieu.

B. FRANKLIN

I

TO THE LATE

DOCTOR MATHER OF BOSTON.

REV. SIR,

RECEIVED your kind letter, with your excellent advice to the United States, which I read with great pleasure, and hope it will be duly regarded. Such writings, though they may be lightly paffed over by many readers, yet, if they make a deep impreffion on one active mind in a hundred, the effects may be confiderable.

Permit me to mention one little inftance, which, though it relates to myself, will not be quite unin terefting to you. When I was a boy, I met with a book entitled, "Effays to do good," which I think was written by your father. It had been fo little regarded by a former poffeffor, that feveral leaves of it were torn out; but the remainder gave me fuch a turn of thinking, as to have an influence on my conduct through life: for I have always fet a greater value on the character of a doer of good, than any other kind of reputation; and if I have been, as you seem to think, a useful citizen, the public owes the advantage of it to that book.

You mention your being in your feventy-eighth year. I am in my feventy-ninth. We are grown old together. It is now more than fixty years ince I left Bofton; but I remember well both your father and grandfather, having heard them both in the pulpit, and feen them in their houfes. The aft time I faw your father was in the beginning

of 1724 when I vifited him after my first trip to Pennfylvania: he received me in his library; and on my taking leave, fhewed me a shorter way out of the house, through a narrow paffage, which was croffed by a beam over head. We were fill talking as I withdrew, he accompanying me behind, and I turning partly towards him, when he faid haftily, "Stoop, Stoop!" I did not understand him till I felt my head hit against the beam. He was a man who never miffed any occafion of giving inftruction: and upon this he faid to me: "You are young and have the world before you: ftoop as you go through it, and you will mifs many hard thumps." This advice thus beat into my heart, has frequently been of ufe to me; and I often think of it, when I fee pride mortified, and misfortunes brought upon people by their carrying their heads too high.

I long much to fee again my native place; and once hoped to lay my bones there. I left it in 1723. I vifited it in 1733, 1743, 1753, and 1763; and in 1773 I was in England. In 1775 I had a fight of it, but could not enter, it being in poffef fion of the enemy. I did hope to have been there in 1783, but could not obtain a difmiflion from this employment here; and now I fear I fhall ne ver have that happiness. My best wishes howe ver attend my dear country," efto perpetua." It is now bleffed with an excellent conftitution: may it laft for ever!:

This powerful monarchy continues its friendfhip for the United ftates, It is a friendship of the utmost importance to our fecurity, and fhould be carefully cultivated. Britain has not yet well digefted the lofs of its dominion over us; and h

ftill at times fome flattering hopes of recovering it. Accidents may increase thofe hopes, and encourage dangerous attempts. A breach between us and France would infallibly bring the English again upon our backs: and yet we have fome wild beafts among our country men, who are endeavouring to weaken that connection.

Let us preferve our reputation, by performing our engagements; our credit, by fulfilling our contracts; and our friends, by gratitude and kindnefs for we know not how foon we may againhave occafion for all of them.

With great and fincere esteem,

I have the honour to be,
Reverend Sir,

Your most obedient and
moft humble fervant,

PASSY, May 12, 1784

12,}

B. FRANKLIN.

*****

THE WHISTLE.

A TRUE STORY.

WRITTEN TO HIS NEPHEW.

HEN I was a child, at seven years old, my friends, on a holiday, filled my pocket with coppers I went directly to a fhop where they fold toys for children; and being charmed with the found of a whistle, that I met by the way in the hands of another boy, I voluntarily offered

him all my money for one. I then came home, and went a whistling all over the house, much pleafed with my whistle, but difturbing all the family. My brothers, and fifters, and coufins, underftanding the bargain I had made, told me I had given four times as much for it as it was worth. This put me in mind what good things I might have bought with the reft of my money; and they laughed at me fo 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 impreffion continuing on my mind: fo that often, ⚫ when I was tempted to buy fome unneceffary thing, I faid to myself, Dont give too much for the whistle; and fo I faved my money.

As I grew up, came into the world, and obferv. ed the actions of men, I thought I met with many, Ꭵ very many, who gave too much for the whistle.

When I faw any one too ambitious of court favours, facrificing his time in attendance on levees, his repofe, his liberty, his virtue, and perhaps his friends, to attain it, I have faid to myself, This man gives too much for his whistle.

When I faw another fond of popularity, conftantly employing himfelf in political bustles, neglecting his own affairs, and ruining them by that neglect: He pays, indeed fays I too much for his whiffle.

If I knew a mifer who gave up every kind of comfortable living, all the pleafure of doing good to others, all the eftcem of his fellow-citizens, and the joys of benevolent friendship, for the fake of accumulating wealth: Poor man, fays I you do indeed pay too much for your whistle. -.