CHARACTER.

flowery, yet both elegant and lively. The wit, or rather humour, which prevails in his works, varies with the subject. Sometimes he is bitter and sarcastic; oftener gay, and even droll; reminding us, in this respect, far more frequently of Addison than of Swift, as might be naturally expected from his admirable temper, or the happy turn of his imagination. When he rises into vehemence or severity, it is only when his country, or the rights of men, are attacked, or when the sacred ties of humanity are violated by unfeeling or insane rulers. There is nothing more delightful than the constancy with which those amiable feelings, those sound principles, those truly profound views of human affairs, make their appearance at every opportunity, whether the immediate subject be speculative or practical-of a political, or of a more general, description. It is refreshing to find such a mind as Franklin's-worthy of a place near to Newton and to Washington-filled with those pure and exalted sentiments of concern for the happiness of mankind, which the petty wits of our times amuse themselves with laughing at, and their more cunning and calculating employers seek by every means to discourage, sometimes by ridicule, sometimes by invective, as truly incompatible with all plans of misgovernment. The benevolent cast of his disposition was far from confining itself to those sublimer views. From earnest wishes, and active, victorious exertions for the prosperity of the species, he descended perpetually to acts of particular kindness. He seems to have felt an unwearied satisfaction in affording assistance, instruction, or amusement, to all who stood in need of it. His letters are full of passages which bear testimony to this amiable solicitude for the happiness of his fellow-creatures individually; it seems the chief cause of his writing, in most cases: and if he ever deviates from his habit of keeping out all superfluous matter, whatever be the subject, it is when he seems tempted to give some extra piece of knowledge or entertainment. So, if ever the serene and well-natured cast of his temper appears ruffled by anger, or even soured for the moment, it is when some enormities have been committed which offend against the highest principles which he professes.

If the example of this eminent person may well teach respect for philanthropic sentiments to one set of scoffers, it may equally impress upon the minds of another class the important lesson, that veneration for religion quite compatible with a sound practical understanding. Franklin was a man of a truly pious turn of mind. The great truths of natural theology were not only deeply engraven on his mind, but constantly present to his thoughts. As far as can be collected from his writings, he appears to have been a Christian of the Unitarian school; but if his own faith had not gone so far, he at least would greatly have respected the religion of his country and its professors, and done every thing to encourage its propagation, as infinitely beneficial to mankind, even if doubts had existed in his own mind as to some of its fundamental doctrines.

It is not, indeed, in set dissertations alone that we are to look for the evidence of his sincere and habitual piety. Feelings of a devotional cast everywhere break forth. The ideas connected with this lofty matter, seem always to have occupied his mind. He is to the full as habitually a warm advocate of religion, as he is a friend of liberty. The power, the wisdom, and the beneficence of the Deity, are as much in his thoughts as the happiness and rights of mankind."

Among the papers which he left behind him, and which have been published by his grandson, there was found one entitled " Articles of Religion," which includes a form of daily prayer, adoration, and thanksgiving. In this species of liturgy, he lays it down as a rule, that after offering up his humble tribute of gratitude to the Almighty, he should spend a few minutes in serious silence, and then sing Milton's Hymn to the Creator:

* Edinburgh Review, vol. xxviii.

39

These are thy glorious works, Parent of Good!
Almighty; thine this universal frame,
Thus wondrous fair! Thyself how wondrous then!
Speak ye who best can tell, ye sons of light,
Angels, for ye behold him; and with songs,
And choral symphonies, day without night,
Circle his throne rejoicing. You in heaven,
On earth, join all, ye creatures, to extol
Him first, him last, him midst, and without end.
Fairest of stars, last in the train of night,
If rather thou belong'st not to the dawn,
Sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smiling morn
With thy bright circlet! praise him in thy sphere
While day arises, that sweet hour of prime.
Thou sun, of this great world both eye and soul,
Acknowledge him thy greater, sound his praise
In thy eternal course! both when thou climb'st,
And when high noon hast gain'd, and when thou fall'st.
Moon, that now meet'st the orient sun, now fly'st
With the fix'd stars, fix'd in their orb that flies!
And ye five other wand'ring fires that move
In mystic dance, not without song, resound
His praise, that out of darkness call'd up light.
Air! and ye elements! the eldest birth
Of nature's womb, that in quaternions run
Perpetual circle, multiform, and mix'd,
And nourish all things! let your ceaseless change
Vary to our great Maker still new praise.
Ye mists and exhalations! that now rise
From hill or streaming lakes dusky or grey,
Till the sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold,
In honour to the world's great Author rise!
Whether to deck with clouds th' uncolour'd sky,
Or wet the thirsty earth with falling show'rs,
Rising or falling still advance his praise.
His praise, ye winds! that from four quarters blow,
Breathe soft or loud; and wave your tops, ye pines!
With every plant, in sign of worship wave.
Fountains! and ye that warble as ye flow
Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise.
Join voices all, ye living souls, ye birds,
That singing, up to heaven's high gate ascend!
Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise.
Ye that in waters glide! and ye that walk
The earth! and stately tread; or lowly creep;
Witness if I be silent, ev'n or morn,
To hill or valley, fountain or fresh shade,
Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise.

Dr Franklin's person, as seen at the period of the revolution, was square-built and fat. He wore his own hair, which was thin and grey. His head was remarkably large in proportion to his figure, and his countenance was mild, firm, and expressive. He looked healthy and vigorous, which may be ascribed both to a good constitution and a temperate mode of living. He was friendly and agreeable in conversation, which he readily suited to his company, with a seeming wish to benefit his hearers, and at the same time possessing a rare talent of profiting by the conversation of others, and turning their hints to such purposes as he desired. He left, to deplore his loss, one daughter, Mrs Bache,* who attended him on his death-bed. Mrs Bache, as we have heard, was a woman of strong mind and amiable dispositions, in which respects she bore a resemblance to her father. The present Professor Bache, President of Gerard College, Philadelphia, is a grandson of this gifted lady. William Franklin, the illegitimate son of Dr Franklin, and who had at one time been governor of New Jersey, died in 1813.

The practice of frugality and industry which Dr Franklin pursued through life, and the success which attended his efforts, placed him in a condition of considerable affluence in his later years. His wealth enabled him to assist in alleviating individual distress, and also to further public improvements, of which he was an unremitting patron. That, in his latest thoughts, he consulted the public benefit, is testified by the tenor of his last will and testament, from which we present the following extracts:

"With regard to my books, those I had in France, and those I left in Philadelphia, being now assembled

*Pronounced Baitch.

40

LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT.

together here, and a catalogue made of them, it is my intention to dispose of the same as follows:

My History of the Academy of Sciences,' in sixty or seventy volumes quarto, I give to the Philosophical Society of Philadelphia, of which I have the honour to be president. My collection in folio of 'Les Arts et les Metiers,' I give to the American Philosophical Society, established in New England, of which I am a member. My quarto edition of the same, Arts et les Metiers,' I give to the Library Company of Philadelphia. Such and so many of my books as I shall mark, in the said catalogue, with the name of my grandson, Benjamin Franklin Bache, I do hereby give to him; and such and so many of my books as I shall mark in the said catalogue with the name of my grandson, William Bache, I do hereby give to him; and such as shall be marked with the name of Jonathan Williams, I hereby give to my cousin of that name. The residue and remainder of all my books, manuscripts, and papers, I do give to my grandson William Temple Franklin. My share in the Library Company of Philadelphia, I give to my grandson Benjamin Franklin Bache, confiding that he will permit his brothers and sisters to share in the use of it.

I was born in Boston, New England, and owe my first instructions in literature to the free grammarschools established there. I therefore give one hundred pounds sterling to my executors, to be by them, the survivors or survivor of them, paid over to the managers or directors of the free schools in my native town of Boston, to be by them, or the person or persons who shall have the superintendence and management of the said schools, put out to interest, and so continued at interest for ever; which interest annually shall be laid out in silver medals, and given as honorary rewards annually by the directors of the said free schools, for the encouragement of scholarship in the said schools belonging to the said town, in such a manner as to the discretion of the select men of the said town shall seem meet.

CODICIL.

I, Benjamin Franklin, in the foregoing or annexed last will and testament, having further considered the same, do think proper to make and publish the following codicil, or addition thereto :

It having long been a fixed and political opinion of mine, that in a democratical state there ought to be no offices of profit, for the reasons I have given in an article of my drawing in our constitution, it was my intention, when I accepted the office of president, to devote the appointed salary to some public use: accordingly I had already, before I made my last will, in July last, given large sums of it to colleges, schools, building of churches, &c. and in that will I bequeathed two thousand pounds more to the state, for the purpose of making the Schuylkil navigable; but understanding since, that such a sum would do but little towards accomplishing such a work, and that the project is not likely to be undertaken for many years to come-and having entertained another idea, which I hope may be more extensively useful, I do hereby revoke and annul the bequest, and direct that the certificates I have for what remains due to me of that salary, be sold towards raising the sum of two thousand pounds sterling, to be disposed of as I am now about to order.

It has been an opinion, that he who receives an estate from his ancestors, is under some obligation to transmit the same to posterity. This obligation lies not on me, who never inherited a shilling from any ancestor or relation. I shall, however, if it is not diminished by some accident before my death, leave a considerable estate among my descendants and relations. The above observation is made merely as some apology to my family, for making bequests that do not appear to have any immediate relation to their advantage.

I was born in Boston, New England, and owe my first instructions in literature to the free grammarschools established there. I have therefore considered those schools in my will.

Out of the salary that may remain due to me, as But I am also under obligations to the state of president of the state, I give the sum of two thousand Massachusetts for having, unasked, appointed me pounds to my executors, to be by them, the survivors formerly their agent, with a handsome salary, which or survivor of them, paid over to such person or per- continued some years; and although I accidentally sons as the legislature of this state, by an act of Assem-lost in their service, by transmitting Governor Hutbly, shall appoint to receive the same, in trust, to be employed for making the Schuylkil navigable.

chinson's letters, much more than the amount of what they gave me, I do not think that ought in the least to diminish my gratitude. I have considered that, among artizans, good apprentices are most likely to make good citizens; and having myself been bred to a manual art, printing, in my native town, and afterwards assisted to set up my business in Philadelphia by kind

foundation of my fortune, and of all the utility in life that may be ascribed to me--I wish to be useful even after my death, if possible, in forming and advancing other young men, that may be serviceable to their country in both these towns.

To this end I devote two thousand pounds sterling, which I give, one thousand thereof to the inhabitants of the town of Boston, in Massachusetts, and the other thousand to the inhabitants of the city of Philadelphia, in trust, to and for the uses, intents, and purposes, hereinafter mentioned and declared.

During the number of years I was in business as a stationer, printer, and post-master, a great many small sums became due to me, for books, advertisements, postage of letters, and other matters, which were not collected when, in 1757, I was sent by the Assembly to England as their agent, and by subsequent appoint-loans of money from two friends there, which was the ments continued there till 1775-when, on my return, I was immediately engaged in the affairs of Congress, and sent to France in 1776, where I remained uine years, not returning till 1785; and the said debts not being demanded in such a length of time, have become in a manner obsolete, yet are nevertheless justly due. These as they are stated in my great folio ledger E, I bequeath to the contributors of the Pennsylvania hospital, hoping that those debtors, and the descendants of such as are deceased, who now, as I find, make some difficulty of satisfying such antiquated demands as just debts, may, however, be induced to pay or give them as charity to that excellent institution. I am sensible that much must be inevitably lost; but I hope something considerable may be recovered. It is possible, too, that some of the parties charged may have existing old unsettled accounts against me: in which case the managers of the said hospital will allow and deduct the amount, or pay the balance, if they find it against me. I request my friends, Henry Hill, Esq. John Jay, Esq. Francis Hopkinson, and Mr Edward Duffield, of Bonfield, in Philadelphia county, to be the executors of this my last will and testament, and I hereby nominate and appoint them for that purpose.

I would have my body buried with as little expense or ceremony as may be. Philadelphia, July 17, 1788.

The said sum of one thousand pounds sterling, if accepted by the inhabitants of the town of Boston, shall be managed under the direction of the select men, united with the ministers of the oldest episcopalian, congregational, and presbyterian churches in that town, who are to let out the same upon interest, at five per cent. per annum, to such young married artificers, under the age of twenty-five years, as have served an apprenticeship in the said town, and faithfully fulfilled the duties required in their indentures, so as to obtain a good moral character from at least two respectable citizens, who are willing to become sureties in a bond, with the applicants, for the repayment of the money so lent, with interest, according to the terms hereinafter prescribed-all which bonds are to be taken for Spanish milled dollars, or the value thereof in current gold

LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT.-EPITAPH.

coin; and the manager shall keep a bound book or books, wherein shall be entered the names of those who shall apply for and receive the benefit of this institution, and of their sureties, together with the sums lent, the dates, and other necessary and proper records respecting the business and concerns of this institution: and as these loans are intended to assist young married artificers in setting up their business, they are to be proportioned by the discretion of the managers, so as not to exceed sixty pounds sterling to one person, nor to be less than fifteen pounds.

And if the number of appliers so entitled should be so large as that the sum will not suffice to afford to every | one some assistance, these aids may therefore be small at first; but as the capital increases by the accumulated interest, they will be more ample. And in order to serve as many as possible in their turn, as well as to make the repayment of the principal borrowed more easy, each borrower shall be obliged to pay with the yearly interest one-tenth part of the principal; which sums of principal and interest so paid in, shall be again let out to fresh borrowers. And it is presumed, that there will be always found in Boston virtuous and benevolent citizens, willing to bestow a part of their time in doing good to the rising generation, by superintending and managing this institution gratis: it is hoped, that no part of the money will at any time lie dead, or be diverted to other purposes, but be continually augmenting by the interest, in which case there may in time be more than the occasion in Boston may require; and then some may be spared to the neighbouring or other towns in the said state of Massachusetts, which may desire to have it, such towns engaging to pay punctually the interest, and the proportions of the principal annually, to the inhabitants of the town of Boston. If this plan is executed, and succeeds, as projected, without interruption, for one hundred years, the sum will be then one hundred and thirty-one thousand pounds; of which I would have the managers of the donation to the town of Boston then lay out, at their discretion, one hundred thousand pounds in public works, which may be judged of most general utility to the inhabitants such as fortifications, bridges, aqueducts, public buildings, baths, pavements, or whatever may make living in the town more convenient to its people, and render it more agreeable to strangers resorting thither for health, or a temporary residence. The remaining thirty-one thousand pounds I would have continued to be let out to interest, in the manner above directed, for one hundred years; as hope it will have been found, that the institution has had a good effect on the conduct of youth, and been of service to many worthy characters and useful citizens. At the end of this second term, if no unfortunate accident has prevented the operation, the sum will be four millions and sixty-one thousand pounds sterling, of which I leave one million and sixty-one thousand pounds to the disposition and management of the inhabitants of the town of Boston, and three millions to the disposition of the government of the state-not presuming to carry my views farther.

All the directions herein given respecting the disposition and management of the donation to the inhabitants of Boston, I would have observed respecting that to the inhabitants of Philadelphia; only as Philadelphia is incorporated, I request the corporation of that city to undertake the management, agreeable to the said directions and I do hereby vest them with full and ample powers for that purpose. And having considered that the covering its ground plat with buildings and pavement, which carry off most rain, and prevent its soaking into the earth, and renewing and purifying the springs, whence the water of the wells must gradually grow worse, and in time be unfit for use, as I find has happened in all old cities-I recommend, that, at the end of the first hundred years, if not done before, the corporation of the city employ a part of the hundred thousand pounds in bringing by pipes the water of Wiffahickon creek into the town, so as to supply the

41

inhabitants, which I apprehend may be done without great difficulty, the level of that creek being much above that of the city, and may be made higher by a dam. I also recommend making the Schuylkil completely navigable. At the end of the second hundred years, I would have the disposition of the four millions and sixty-one thousand pounds divided between the inhabitants of the city of Philadelphia and the government of Pennsylvania, in the same manner as herein directed with respect to that of the inhabitants of Boston and the government of Massachusetts. It is my desire that this institution should take place, and begin to operate, within one year after my decease; for which purpose due notice should be publicly given, previous to the expiration of that year, that those for whose benefit this establishment is intended, may make their respective applications; and I hereby direct my executors, the survivors and survivor of them, within six months after my decease, to pay over the said sum of two thousand pounds sterling to such persons as shall be appointed by the select men of Boston, and the corporation of Philadelphia, and to receive and take charge of their respective sums of one thousand pounds each for the purpose aforesaid. Considering the accidents to which all human affairs and projects are subject in such a length of time, I have perhaps too much flattered myself with a vain fancy, that these dispositions, if carried into execution, will be continued without interruption, and have the effects proposed; I hope, however, that if the inhabitants of the two cities should not think fit to undertake the execution, they will at least accept the offer of these donations, as a mark of my good will, token of my gratitude, and testimony of my desire to be useful to them even after my departure. I wish, indeed, that they may both endeavour to undertake the execution of my project, because I think, that, though unforeseen difficulties may arise, expedients will be found to remove them, and the scheme be found practicable. If one of them accepts the money with the conditions, and the other refuses, my will then is, that both sums be given to the inhabitants of the city accepting; the whole to be applied to the same purposes, and under the same regulations directed for the separate parts; and if both refuse, the money remains of course in the mass of my estate, and it is to be disposed of therewith, according to my will made the 17th day of July 1788.

My fine crabtree walking-stick, with a gold head curiously wrought in the form of the cap of liberty, I give to my friend, and the friend of mankind, General Washington. If it were a sceptre, he has merited it, and would become it."

The body of Franklin was buried in the cemetery of Christ's Church, in Philadelphia. His request had been, that he should, if convenient, be buried beside his wife; and that a plain marble slab should be placed over their joint grave, with an inscription simply of their names and dates of their interments. When a young man, he wrote an epitaph on himself, which was found among his papers after his decease. It has often been printed, and is as follows:

( 42 )

MISCELLANEOUS WORKS OF DR FRANKLIN.

THE BUSY-BODY.

naturally inclined to be meddling with things that do not concern me) perhaps I may sometimes talk of [The following papers with this title, are those "humorous politics. And if I can by any means furnish out a pieces" which in the year 1728-9 Franklin wrote in Bradford's weekly entertainment for the public, that will give a newspaper, at Philadelphia, with the object of turning the pro-rational diversion, and at the same time be instructive spectus of Keimer's paper into ridicule. They afford a speci- to the readers, I shall think my leisure hours well emmen of the style of Franklin in early life.] ployed; and if you publish this, I hereby invite all ingenious gentlemen, and others (that approve of such an undertaking), to my assistance and correspondence.

The Busy-Body.-No. I.

MR ANDREW BRADFORD,

country.

It is like, by this time, you have a curiosity to be aim at public praise, I design to remain concealed; acquainted with my name and character. As I do not and there are such numbers of our family and relations at this time in the country, that, though I have signed my name at full length, I am not under the least apprehension of being distinguished and disco

I design this to acquaint you, that I, who have long been one of your courteous readers, have lately entertained some thought of setting up for an author myself; not out of the least vanity, I assure you, or desire of showing my parts, but purely for the good of my I have often observed with concern, that your Mer-vered by it. My character, indeed, I would favour cury is not always equally entertaining. The delay of lest I should be told my trumpeter's dead; and I canyou with, but that I am cautious of praising myself, ships expected in, and want of fresh advices from Europe, make it frequently very dull; and I find the not find in my heart, at present, to say any thing to my own disadvantage. freezing of our river has the same effect on news as trade. With more concern have I continually observed the growing vices and follies of my country folk: and though reformation is properly the concern of every man-that is, every one ought to mend one-yet it is too true in this case, that what is every body's business is no body's business, and the business is done accord-Writings, since they think to frighten the public into ingly. I therefore, upon mature deliberation, think fit to take no body's business wholly into my own hands; and, out of zeal for the public good, design to erect myself into a kind of censor morum; purposing, with your allowance, to make use of the Weekly Mercury as a vehicle in which my remonstrances shall be conveyed to the world.

I am sensible I have, in this particular, undertaken a very unthankful office, and expect little besides my labour for my pains. Nay, it is probable, I may displease a great number of your readers, who will not very well like to pay ten shillings a-year for being told of their faults. But as most people delight in censure, when they themselves are not the objects of it, if any are offended at my publicly exposing their private vices, I promise they shall have the satisfaction, in a very little time, of seeing their good friends and neighbours in the same circumstances.

However, let the fair sex be assured that I shall always treat them and their affairs with the utmost decency and respect. I intend now and then to dedicate a chapter wholly to their service; and if my lectures any way contribute to the embellishment of their minds, and brightening of their understandings, without offending their modesty, I doubt not of having their favour and encouragement.

formances, to talk to their readers thus:-If this meets It is very common with authors in their first perwith a suitable reception, or, if this should meet with due encouragement, I shall hereafter publish, &c.This only manifests the value they put on their own

their applause, by threatening, that unless you approve what they have already wrote, they intend never to write again; when, perhaps, it may not be a pin matter whether they ever do or no. As I have not observed the critics to be more favourable on this account, I shall always avoid saying any thing of the kind; and conclude with telling you, that if you send me a bottle depend on hearing further from, Sir, your most humble of ink and a quire of paper by the bearer, you may THE BUSY-BODY.

servant,

The Busy-Body.-No. II.

All fools have still an itching to deride,

And fain would be upon the laughing side.-POPE. Monsieur Rochefocault tells us somewhere in his Memoirs, that the Prince of Condé delighted much in ridicule, and used frequently to shut himself up for half a day together in his chamber, with a gentleman that was his favourite, purposely to divert himself with examining what was the foible, or ridiculous side, of every noted person in the court. That gentleman said afterwards in some company, that he thought nothing was more ridiculous in any body than this same humour in the prince; and I am somewhat inclined to be of this opinion. The general tendency there is among us to this embellishment (which I fear has too often grossly imposed upon my loving countrymen instead of wit), and the applause it meets with from a rising generation, fill me with fearful apprehensions for the future reputation of my country: a young man of modesty (which is the most certain indication of large capacities) is hereby discouraged from attempting to make any figure in life: his apprehensions of being outlaughed

It is certain, that no country in the world produces naturally finer spirits than ours, men of genius for every kind of science, and capable of acquiring to perfection every qualification that is in esteem among mankind. But as few here have the advantage of good books, for want of which good conversation is still more scarce, it would, doubtless, have been very acceptable to your readers, if, instead of an old out-of-will force him to continue in a restless obscurity, withdate article from Muscovy or Hungary, you had entertained them with some well-chosen extract from a good author. This I shall sometimes do, when I happen to have nothing of my own to say that I think of more consequence. Sometimes, I purpose to deliver lectures of morality or philosophy, and (because I am

out having an opportunity of knowing his own merit himself, or discovering it to the world, rather than venture to expose himself in a place where a pun or a sneer shall pass for wit, noise for reason, and the strength of the argument be judged by that of the lungs. Among these witty gentlemen, let us take a view of

Ridentius: what a contemptible figure does he make, | nice observer some notion of his mind. Methought he with his train of paltry admirers? This wight shall rapped in such a peculiar manner, as seemed of itself give himself an hour's diversion with the cock of a to express there was one who deserved as well as deman's hat, the heels of his shoes, an unguarded expres-sired admission. He appeared in the plainest country sion in his discourse, or even some personal defect; and garb; his greatcoat was coarse, and looked old and the height of his low ambition is to put some one of the thread-bare; his linen was home-spun; his beard, percompany to the blush, who perhaps must pay an equal haps, of seven days' growth; his shoes thick and heavy; share of the reckoning with himself. If such a fellow and every part of his dress corresponding. Why was makes laughing the sole end and purpose of his life, if this man received with such concurring respect from it is necessary to his constitution, or if he has a great every person in the room, even from those who had desire of growing suddenly fat, let him eat; let him never known him or seen him before? It was not an give public notice where any dull, stupid, rogues may exquisite form of person, or grandeur of dress, that get a quart of fourpenny for being laughed at; but it struck us with admiration. I believe long habits of is barbarously unhandsome, when friends meet for the virtue have a sensible effect on the countenance: there benefit of conversation, and a proper relaxation from was something in the air of his face that manifested business, that one should be the butt of the company, the true greatness of his mind; which likewise apand four men made merry at the cost of the fifth. peared in all he said, and in every part of his behaHow different from this character is that of the good-viour, obliging us to regard him with a kind of veneranatured gay Eugenius, who never spoke yet but with a tion. His aspect is sweetened with humanity and bedesign to divert and please, and who was never yet nevolence, and at the same time emboldened with rebaulked in his intention? Eugenius takes more delight solution, equally free from diffident bashfulness and an in applying the wit of his friends, than in being admired unbecoming assurance. The consciousness of his own himself: and if any one of the company is so unfortunate innate worth and unshaken integrity, renders him calm as to be touched a little too nearly, he will make use of and undaunted in the presence of the most great and some ingenious artifice to turn the edge of ridicule powerful, and upon the most extraordinary occasions. another way, choosing rather to make himself a public His strict justice and known impartiality make him the jest than be at the pain of seeing his friend in confu- arbitrator and decider of all differences that arise for sion. many miles around him, without putting his neighbours to the charge, perplexity, and uncertainty of law-suits. He always speaks the thing he means, which he is never afraid or ashamed to do, because he knows he always means well; and therefore is never obliged to blush, and feel the confusion of finding himself detected in the meanness of a falsehood. He never contrives ill against his neighbour, and therefore is never seen with a lowering, suspicious aspect. A mixture of innocence and wisdom makes him ever seriously cheerful. His generous hospitality to strangers according to his ability, his goodness, his charity, his courage in the cause of the oppressed, his fidelity in friendship, his humility, his honesty and sincerity, his moderation and his loyalty to the government, his piety, his temperance, his love to mankind, his magnanimity, his public-spiritedness, and, in fine, his consummate virtue, make him justly deserve to be esteemed the glory of his country.

Among the tribe of laughers, I reckon the pretty gentlemen that write satires, and carry them about in their pockets, reading them themselves in all company they happen into; taking an advantage of the ill taste of the town, to make themselves famous for a pack of paltry, low nonsense, for which they deserve to be kicked rather than admired, by all who have the least tincture of politeness. These I take to be the most incorrigible of all my readers; nay, I expect they will be Squibbing at the Busy-body himself. However, the only favour he begs of them is this, that if they cannot control their overbearing itch of scribbling, let him be attacked in downright biting lyrics; for there is no satire he dreads half so much as an attempt towards a panegyric.

The Busy-Body.--No. III.

Non vultis instantis tyranni
Menti quatit solida, nec auster,

Dux inquieti turbidus Adriæ,

Nec fulminantis magna Jovis manus.-HOR.*

The brave do never shun the light,

Just are their thoughts, and open are their tempers;
Freely without disguise they love and hate,

Still are they found in the fair face of day,

And heaven and men are judges of their actions.-Rows. Who would not rather choose, if it were in his choice, to merit the above character, than be the richest, the most learned, or the most powerful man in the province without it?

It is said that the Persians, in their ancient constitution, had public schools in which virtue was taught as a liberal art or science: and it is certainly of more consequence to a man, that he has learnt to govern his Almost every man has a strong natural desire of passions-in spite of temptation, to be just in his deal-being valued and esteemed by the rest of his species; ings, to be temperate in his pleasures, to support him- but I am concerned and grieved to see how few fall self with fortitude under his misfortunes, to behave into the right and only infallible method of becoming with prudence in all his affairs, and in every circum- so. That laudable ambition is too commonly misapstance of life--I say, it is of much more real advantage plied, and often ill employed. Some, to make themto him to be thus qualified, than to be a master of all selves considerable, pursue learning; others grasp at the arts and sciences in the world besides. wealth; some aim at being thought witty; and others are only careful to make the most of an handsome person: but what is wit, or wealth, or form, or learn

Virtue alone is sufficient to make a man great, glorious, and happy. He that is acquainted with Cato, as I am, cannot help thinking, as I do now, and will ac-ing, when compared with virtue? It is true we love knowledge, he deserves the name, without being honoured by it. Cato is a man whom fortune has placed in the most obscure part of the country. His circumstances are such, as only put him above necessity, without affording him many superfluities: yet who is greater than Cato? I happened but the other day to be at a house in town, where, among others, were met men of the most note in this place; Cato had business with some of them, and knocked at the door. The most trifling actions of a man, in my opinion, as well as the smallest features and lincaments of the face, give a

* [Nor urgent tyrant's angry brow,

Nor storms that bid the wild waves bow,
Nor Jove's own thunderous arm, can make
The firm, undaunted mind to shake.]

the handsome, we applaud the learned, and we fear the rich and powerful; but we even worship and adore the virtuous. Nor is it strange; since men of virtue are so rare, so very rare, to be found. If we were as industrious to become good as to make ourselves great, we should become really great by being good, and the number of valuable men would be much increased; but it is a grand mistake to think of being great without goodness; and I pronounce it as certain, that there was never yet a truly great man that was not at the same time truly virtuous.

O Cretico! thou sour philosopher, thou cunning statesman, thou art crafty, but far from being wise! When wilt thou be esteemed, regarded, and beloved like Cato! When wilt thou, among thy creatures,