him; and, as he is my friend, I recommend him t your attentions, as well as to those of M. de Marmont and all your family.

I flatter myself with the hope that your last troubl are quieted. I tenderly love your country, and co sider myself deeply interested in its prosperity. N that I have just finished the third year of my pre dency, and as henceforward I shall not have to ta part in public affairs, I begin to look upon myself, a free man, who have nothing more to do, but to en the little time which remains to me. I shall emp a part of it in writing my own history, which, in calling the past to my remembrance, will, so to sp make me begin life anew. I am always, my friend, &c. B. FRANKLI

TO ALEXANDER SMALL.

DEAR FRIEND,

Philadelphia, 17 February, 1

I have just received your kind letter of Nove 29th, and am much obliged by your friendly att in sending me the receipt, which on occasion I make trial of; but the stone I have being a large c I find by the weight it falls with when I turn in have no hope of its being dissoluble by any med and having been for some time past pretty fre pain, I am afraid of tampering. I congratulate: the escape you had by avoiding the one you m that was as big as a kidney bean; had it be tained, it might soon have become too large to and proved the cause of much pain at times, a has been to me.

Having served my time of three years as pre I have now renounced all public business, and

mer. My grandson presents his respects; and I am ever, my dear friend, yours most affectionately, B. FRANKLIN.

P. S. You never mention the receipt of any letters from me. I wish to know if they come to hand, particularly my last enclosing the Apologue. You mention some of my old friends being dead, but not their names.

TO MRS. CATHERINE GREENE.

DEAR FRIEND,

Philadelphia, 2 March, 1789.

Having now done with public affairs, which have hitherto taken up so much of my time, I shall endeavour to enjoy, during the small remainder of life that is left to me, some of the pleasures of conversing with my old friends by writing, since their distance prevents my hope of seeing them again.

I received one of the bags of sweet corn you were so good as to send me a long time since, but the other never came to hand. Even the letter mentioning it, though dated December 10th, 1787, has been above a year on its way; for I received it but about two weeks since from Baltimore in Maryland. The corn I did receive was excellent, and gave me great pleasure. Accept my hearty thanks.

I am, as you suppose in the abovementioned old letter, much pleased to hear, that my young friend Ray is "smart in the farming way," and makes such substantial fences. I think agriculture the most honorable of all employments, being the most independent. The farmer has no need of popular favor, nor the favor of the great; the success of his crops depending only

on the blessing of God upon his honest industry. I congratulate your good spouse, that he, as well as myself, is now free from public cares, and that he can bend his whole attention to his farming, which will afford him both profit and pleasure; a business which nobody knows better how to manage with advantage.

I am too old to follow printing again myself, but, loving the business, I have brought up my grandson Benjamin to it, and have built and furnished a printinghouse for him, which he now manages under my eye. I have great pleasure in the rest of my grandchildren, who are now in number eight, and all promising, the youngest only six months old, but shows signs of great good nature. My friends here are numerous, and I enjoy as much of their conversation as I can reasonably wish; and I have as much health and cheerfulness, as can well be expected at my age, now eightythree. Hitherto this long life has been tolerably happy; so that, if I were allowed to live it over again, I should make no objection, only wishing for leave to do, what authors do in a second edition of their works, correct some of my errata. Among the felicities of my life I reckon your friendship, which I shall remember with pleasure as long as that life lasts, being ever, my dear friend, yours most affectionately,

B. FRANKLIN

FROM M. LE VEILLARD TO B. FRANKLIN.

State of Affairs in France. - Duke of Orleans.

Translation.

MY DEAR FRiend,

Passy, 25 April, 1789.

Since your letter of the 10th of December last, I

have had no other from you. We are at last on the

eve of the assembling of the States-General. If any one had said, when you were with us, that this was even a possible thing, he would have run a great risk of finding himself in the Bastille before night. I do not know how much good they will do; but in the mean while people say and print whatever they please, and nobody is sent to prison. The demands of the different deputations are for the most part publicly known. Many give very narrow limits to the royal authority, and all without exception require, that, before attending to any thing else, a constitution shall be established, which shall give legislative authority to the nation, either conjointly with the King or independently of him; which shall determine the composition and the mode of action of a permanent assembly of the States-General, or of a body which may come together without being specially called, at short and stated intervals; and which shall give full security to personal liberty and to property, and to the liberty of the press, with the condition, that the printer shall affix his name to the works he publishes. They demand, moreover, the abolition of all privileges and exemptions relating to the payment of taxes, the reform of civil and criminal laws, and the responsibility of ministers. This is not all; but upon this basis, if once established, we shall build up a government, not perfect indeed, for that is beyond the reach of humanity, but good enough to satisfy any reasonable being.

Unfortunately the priests and the nobles are not yet sufficiently moderate, nor the lower classes sufficiently enlightened. The intermediate classes are for this reason odious to the former, and not properly valued by the latter, who are dazzled and blinded by the first rays of a liberty, of which they had not even an idea, and which intoxicates them, and renders them incapa