DCCXLVI

FROM DAVID HARTLEY

LONDON, 23 January, 1779.

MY DEAR FRIEND:-You know my constant and earnest desire for peace. You are so fully possessed of my principles upon these subjects, that you cannot doubt but that the sentiments expressed in the fourth letter on the American war, lately written by a Member of Parliament in this country to his constituents, do perfectly accord with mine.'

In your letter of 26th October last, you seem to express that a visit from a friend would not be unwelcome, if that friend were in the character of plenipotentiary, to treat of a sincere peace between all parties. You must know from the course of public transactions in England, that the alliance between France and America is a great stumbling-block. Whatever engagements America may have entered into, they will at least by consent of parties be relinquished for the purpose of removing so material an obstacle to any general treaty of free and unengaged parties. If the parties could meet for the sake of peace, upon free and open ground, I should think that a very fair proposition to be offered to the people of England, and an equitable proposition in itself. The universal destruction attending war to all parties ought to be a motive for the restoration of peace, superseding all minute considerations. Knowing the sincerity of your desire for peace, I throw out to you the cursory thoughts which 'The letters were written by Mr. Hartley, and published by Almon.

present themselves to me, to take the chance of starting any idea which may lead to that blessed end. I am yours affectionately,

G. B.

DCCXLVII

TO DAVID HARTLEY

PASSY, 25 January, 1779.

DEAR SIR: I a long time believed that your government were in earnest in agreeing to an exchange of prisoners. I begin now to think I was mistaken. It seems they cannot give up the pleasing idea of having at the end of the war one thousand Americans to hang for high treason. You were also long of opinion that the animosity against America was not national or general; but having seen the exterminating proclamation of the Commissioners approved by kings, lords, and commons, and that not attended by any marks of popular disapprobation, perhaps you too begin to think you are mistaken. I thank you for writing those excellent letters to your constituents. I like all but your reflections against the king of France for assisting us. In my mind, the coming to the relief of an innocent people under the bloody oppression your ministers were exercising over them, and exposing himself and nation to a war on their account, was not only what any prince had a right to do for the sake of common humanity, but was a magnanimous and heroic action that is admired at present by the wise and good through all Europe,

and will hand his name down with glory to posterity. Our different ways of thinking in this particular will not, however, diminish our private friendship, nor impair the sentiments of sincere esteem and respect with which I am ever, dear sir,

Yours,

B. FRANKLIN.

DCCXLVIII

TO MRS. MARGARET STEVENSON

PASSY, 25 January, 1779.

It is always with great pleasure, when I think of our long-continued friendship, which had not the least interruption in the course of twenty years (some of the happiest of my life), that I spent under your roof and in your company. If I do not write to you as often as I used to do, when I happened to be absent from you, it is owing partly to the present difficulty of sure communication, and partly to an apprehension of some inconvenience that my correspondence might possibly occasion you. Be assured, my dear friend, that my regard, esteem, and affection for you are not in the least impaired or diminished, and that, if circumstances would permit, nothing would afford me so much satisfaction as to be with you in the same house, and to experience again your faithful, tender care and attention to my interests, health, and comfortable living, which so long and steadily attached me to you, and which I shall ever remember with gratitude.

I thought I had mentioned to you before (and I believe I did, though my letter may have miscarried), that I had received the white cloth suit, the sword, and the saddle for Temple, all in good order. I mention them now again, because Polly tells me you had not heard of their arrival. I wore the clothes a good deal last summer. There is one thing more that I wish to have, if you should meet with an opportunity of sending it. I mean the copper pot lined with silver, to roast fowls in by means of a heater. I should also be glad of the piece of elephant's tooth. It is old ivory, perhaps of the time before the flood, and would be a rarity to some friends here. But I doubt you will not be able to send them.

I rejoice to learn that your health is established, and that you live pleasantly in a country town, with agreeable neighbors, and have your dear children about you. My love to every one of them. I long to see them and you; but the times do not permit me the hope of it. Why do you never write to me? I used to love to read your letters, and I regret your long silence. They were seasoned with good-sense and friendship, and even your spelling pleased me. Polly knows I think the worst spelling the best. I do not write to her by this conveyance. You will let her know that I acknowledge the receipt of her pleasing letter, dated the 11th instant. I shall now only observe to you upon it, that I know not how the patent can be taken out in Jacob's name. I am sure he had no claim to it, for when I first proposed to him the making of such wheels at Mr. Viny's, in the country, he objected to it as impracticable. But Mr.

Viny, who seized the thought and carried it into execution, had certainly the best right to the patent. I wish he would send me a good drawing, with the proportions, of the little carriage with horses, which his children came once in to see us. How do they all do, and particularly my little patient Bessum?

Since my coming here I have been told that Mr. Henley, the linen-draper, had said, on my going to America, that I had gone away in his debt. I can hardly believe it. Let me know if you have heard such a thing, and what is the meaning of it. I thought he had been fully paid, and still think so, and shall till I am assured of the contrary. Let me know, at the same time, how my account stands with you.

You wish to know how I live. It is in a fine house, situated in a neat village, on high ground, half a mile from Paris, with a large garden to walk in. I have abundance of acquaintance, dine abroad six days in seven. Sundays I reserve to dine at home, with such Americans as pass this way, and I then have my grandson Ben, with some other American children from the school.

If being treated with all the politeness of France, and the apparent respect and esteem of all ranks, from the highest to the lowest, can make a man happy, I ought to be so. Indeed, I have nothing to complain of, but a little too much business, and the want of that order and economy in my family, which reigned in it when under your prudent direction. My paper gives me only room to add that I am ever yours most affectionately, B. FRANKLIN.

I Passy is now a part of the city of Paris.