ting one another's throats. When will human reason be sufficiently improved to see the advantage of this? When will men be convinced that even successful wars, at length become misfortunes to those who unjustly commenced them, and who triumphed blindly in their success, not seeing all its consequences. Your great comfort and mine in this war is, that we honestly and faithfully did every thing in our power to prevent it. Adieu and believe me ever, my dear friend, yours, &c. B. FRANKLIN.

To Dr. Priestley.

Passy, February 8, 1780.

DEAR SIR,

YOUR kind letter of September 27th, came to hand but very lately, the bearer having staid long in Holland.

I always rejoice to hear of your being still employed in experimental researches into nature, and of the success you meet with. The rapid progress true science now makes, occasions my regretting sometimes that I was born so soon: it is impossible to imagine the height to which may be carried, in a thousand years, the power of man over matter; we may perhaps learn to deprive large masses of their gravity, and give them absolute levity for the sake of easy transport. Agriculture may diminish its labour and double its produce: all diseases may by sure means be prevented or cured, (not excepting even that of old age) and our lives lengthened at pleasure even beyond the antediluvian standard. O! that moral science were in as fair a way of improvement; that men would cease to be wolves to one another; and that human beings would at length learn what they now improperly call humanity!

I am glad that my little paper on the Aurora Borealis pleased. If it should occasion farther inquiry, and so produce a better hypothesis, it will not be wholly useless.

I am ever, with the greatest and most sincere esteem, dear Sir, & B. FRANKLIN.

[Inclosed in the foregoing letter; being an answer to a separate paper received from Dr. Priestley.]

I have considered the situation of that person very attentively; I think that with a little help from the Moral Algebra, he might form a better judgment than any other person can form for him. But since my opinion seems to be desired, I give it for continuing to the end of the term, under all the present disagreeable circumstances: the connection will then die a natural death. No reason will be expected to be given for the separation, and of course no offence taken at reasons given; the friendship may still subsist, and in some other way be useful. The time diminishes daily, and is usefully employed. All human situations have their inconveniencies; we feel those that we find in the present, and we neither feel nor see those that exist in another. Hence we make frequent and troublesome changes without amendment, and often for the worse. In my youth I was passenger in a little sloop, descending the river Delaware. There being no wind, we were obliged, when the ebb was spent, to cast anchor, and wait for the next. The heat of the sun on the vessel was excessive, the company strangers to me, and not very agreeable. Near the river side I saw what I took to be a pleasant green meadow, in the middle of which was a large shady tree, where it struck my fancy I could sit and read, (having a book in my pocket) and pass the time agreeably till the tide turned; I therefore prevailed with the captain to put me ashore. Being landed, I found the greatest part of my meadow was really a marsh, in crossing which, to come at my tree, I was up to my knees in mire: and I had not placed myself under its shade five minutes before the muskitoes in swarms found me out, attacked my legs, hands, and face, and made my read. ing and my rest impossible; so that I returned to the beach, and called for the boat to come and take me on board again, where I was obliged to bear the heat I had strove to quit, VOL. VI.

0

and also the laugh of the company. Similar cases in the af fairs of life, have since frequently fallen under my observation.

I have had thoughts of a college for him in America; I know no one who might be more useful to the public in the institution of youth. But there are possible unpleasantnesses in that situation: it cannot be obtained but by a too hazardous voyage at this time for a family: and the time for experiments would be all otherwise engaged.

B. FRANKLIN.

To General Washington.

Passy, March 5, 1780.

SIR,

I RECEIVED but lately the letter your excellency did me the honour of writing to me in recommendation of the Marquis de la Fayette. His modesty detained it long in his own hands. We became acquainted however, from the time of his arrival at Paris; and his zeal for the honour of our country, his activity in our affairs here, and his firm attach`ment to our cause, and to you, impressed me with the same regard and esteem for him that your excellency's letter would have done had it been immediately delivered to me.

Should peace arrive after another campaign or two, and afford us a little leisure, I should be happy to see your excellency in Europe, and to accompany you, if my age and strength would permit, in visiting some of its most ancient and famous kingdoms. You would on this side the sea, enjoy the great reputation you have acquired, pure and free from those little shades that the jealousy and envy of a man's countrymen and cotemporaries are ever endeavouring to cast over living merit. Here you would know, and enjoy, what posterity will say Washington. For a thousand leagues have nearly the same effect with a thousand years. The feeble voice of those grovelling passions cannot extend so far either in time or distance. At present I enjoy that pleasure for you, as I frequent

of

ly hear the old generals of this martial country (who study the maps of America, and mark upon them all your operations) speak with sincere approbation and great applause of your conduct, and join in giving you the character of one of the greatest captains of the age.

I must soon quit the scene, but you may live to see our country flourish, as it will amazingly and rapidly after the war is over. Like a field of young Indian corn, which long fair weather and sunshine had enfeebled and discoloured, and which in that weak state, by a thunder gust of violent wind, hail, and rain seemed to be threatened with absolute destruction; yet the storm being past, it recovers fresh verdure, shoots up with double vigor, and delights the eye not of its owner only, but of every observing traveller.

The best wishes that can be formed for your health, honor and happiness, ever attend you, from

Yours, &c.

B. FRANKLIN.

To Miss Georgiana Shipley.

Passy, October 8, 1780. IT is long, very long, my dear friend, since I had the great pleasure of hearing from you, and receiving any of your very pleasing letters. But it is my fault. I have long omitted my part of the correspondence. Those who love to receive letters should write letters. I wish I could safely promise an amendment of that fault. But besides the indolence attending age, and growing upon us with it, my time is engrossed by too much business, and I have too many inducements to postpone doing, what I feel I ought to do for my own sake, and what I can never resolve to omit entirely.

Your translations from Horace as far as I can judge of poetry and translations are very good. That of the Quo quo

y Daughter of Dr. Shipley, Bishop of St. Asaph.

ruitis is so suitable to the times, that the conclusion (in your version) seems to threaten like a prophecy; and methinks there is at least some appearance of danger that it may be fulfilled.—I am unhappily an enemy, yet I think there has been enough of blood spilt, and I wish what is left in the veins of that once loved people, may be spared; by a peace solid and everlasting.

It is a great while since I have heard any thing of the good Bishop. Strange that so simple a character should sufficiently distinguish one of that sacred body! Donnez moi de ses Nouvelles. I have been sometime flattered with the expectation of seeing the countenance of that most honoured and ever beloved friend, delineated by your pencil. The portrait is said to have been long on the way, but is not yet arrived: nor can I hear where it is.

Indolent as I have confessed myself to be, I could not, you see, miss this good and safe opportunity of sending you a few lines, with my best wishes for your happiness, and that of the whole dear and amiable family in whose sweet society I have spent so many happy hours. Mr. Jones" tells me he shall have a pleasure in being the bearer of my letter, of which I make no doubt; I learn from him that to your drawing, and music, and painting, and poetry, and latin, you have added a proficiency in chess; so that you are, as the French say, remplie de talens. May they and you fall to the lot of one that shall duly value them, and love you as much as I do.

Adieu.

B. FRANKLIN.

Afterwards Sir William Jones, who married into the Bishop of St.

Asaph's family.