makers, had come to be a man of fortune and surveyor-general of the province, said to Franklin one day at Burlington: "I foresee you will soon work this man out of his business and make a fortune in it at Philadelphia." This he said without knowing any thing of the secret designs of Franklin and Meredith. These Jersey friends brought many a good job to Franklin's printing-office in later years.

In the spring of 1728, soon after his return to Philadelphia from Burlington, the types and press arrived from London, and the young men prepared to begin business. Franklin made an amicable settlement with Keimer, and left him without breathing a word of the printing-house about to be established by Franklin and Meredith.

It was about this time that Franklin wrote the famous epitaph, which has been so often printed. The narrow escape he had had from death by the pleurisy may have suggested it to his mind. The correct version, as given by William Temple Franklin from the original in his grandfather's own hand, bearing date 1729, is as follows:

"The Body
Of

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN,

Printer,

(Like the cover of an old book,

Its contents torn out,

And stript of its lettering and gilding,)
Lies here, food for worms.

Yet the work itself shall not be lost,
For it will, as he believed, appear once more,

In a new

And more beautiful edition,

Corrected and amended

By
The Author."

This epitaph was frequently imitated during the last century, both in England and in the colonies. Smollett, in Peregrine Pickle (published in 1750), inscribes upon the imaginary tombstone of his boisterous Commodore Trunnion an epitaph that was probably suggested by Franklin's;

Three-score and nineteen.

He kept his guns always loaded,

And his tackle ready manned,

And never showed his poop to the enemy,
Except when he took her in tow;
But,

His shot being expended,

His match burnt out,
And his upper works decayed,
He was sunk

By Death's superior weight of metal.
Nevertheless,

He will be weighed again

At the Great Day,
His rigging re-fitted,
And his timbers repaired;

And with one broadside

Make his adversary
Strike in his turn."

To which may be added a colonial tribute to Franklin's wit of the same kind. The following had a great run in American newspapers, and continued to be occasionally printed as late as 1787:

His key.

Even then he was easily
Set right again.

He had the art of disposing his time
So well,

That his hours glided away
In one continued round
Of pleasure and delight,

Till an unlucky minute put a period to
His existence.

He departed this life,
Wound up,

In hopes of being taken in hand
By his Maker,

And of being thoroughly cleaned, repaired,
And set a-going

In the World to Come."

CHAPTER XIV.

REGENERATION.

FRANKLIN, as we have related, became a freethinker at fifteen. Before he was twenty-one, he began, at times, to suspect, not the correctness, but the sufficiency, of his opinions respecting religion. It became clear to him at length, as it has since to so many brave

young spirit, that negative beliefs, however indisputable, are powerless to enable men to attain self-control. He found that the soul cannot thrive on negatives. He perceived that if a man was on a wrong road, his discovery of the fact was useless unless it prompted him to seek a right road. His old friend Collins, he remembered, was a freethinker; and Collins had gone astray. Ralph was a freethinker; and Ralph was a great sinner. Keith was a freethinker; and Keith was the greatest liar in Pennsylvania. Benjamin Franklin was a freethinker; and how shamefully he had behaved to Ralph, to Ralph's mistress, to Mr. Vernon, and to Miss Read, whose young life had been blighted through him.

Pondering these things, he reached the conclusion, about the time that he became of age, that positive truths alone are nutritive; and that specific, stated exertions, designed solely to strengthen the soul's grasp of essential truth, are necessary to its growth in virtue. In a word, he felt the need of a religion.

He proceeded to form a religion of his own. It consisted of a creed and a liturgy, both of which he recorded, with the utmost care and elegance, in a little pocket prayer-book, which still exists, and attests by the beauty of the penmanship how much his heart. was in the matter. This most interesting relic, which is the property of an American citizen resident in London, has recently been shown about in the city wherein it was written in the year 1728.

The book was entitled, "Articles of Belief and Acts of Religion,"* and bore this motto from Addison's Cato:

"Here will I hold. If there's a power above us,

(And that there is, all nature cries aloud

Through all her works), He must delight in virtue;
And that which he delights in must be happy."

He began by making a formal statement of his belief, or what he calls "First Principles." The following sentences contain the substance of this curious series of conjectures:

"There is one Supreme, most perfect Being, Author and Father of the gods themselves." He is infinite and incomprehensible; he does not expect nor desire the worship of man; he is above it.

* Published in Sparks, i., 1

But as there is something in man which inclines him to devotion, it is reasonable to conclude that it is his duty to pay divine regards to SOMETHING. "I conceive, then, that the INFINITE has created many beings or gods, vastly superior to man, who can better conceive his perfections than we, and return him a more rational and glorious praise; as, among men, the praise of the ignorant or of children is not regarded by the ingenious painter or architect, who is rather honored and pleased with the approbation of wise men and artists. It may be these created gods are immortal; or it may be, that, after many ages, they are changed, and others supply their places. Howbeit, I conceive that each of these is exceeding wise and good, and very powerful; and that each has made for himself one glorious sun, attended with a beautiful and admirable system of planets. It is that particular wise and good God, who is the author and owner of our system, that I propose for the object of my praise and adoration."

He proceeds to state his conception of the character of this particular God. As man is formed capable of observing his wisdom in the creation, it is to be inferred that this God" is not above caring for us," is "pleased with our praise, and offended when we slight him." This Being evidently wishes the happiness of his subjects,— and as man is happy only so far as he is virtuous, it is certain that the God delights in virtue. "And since he has created many things which seem purely designed for the delight of man, I believe he is not offended when he sees his children solace themselves in any manner of pleasant exercises and innocent delights; and I think no pleasure innocent that is to man hurtful.” "Let me not fail, then, to praise my God continually, for it is his due."

After this statement of his creed comes the liturgy, or scheme of worship, designed for his own use in solitude. The Prelude is as follows: "Being mindful that before I address the Deity, my soul ought to be calm and serene, free from passion and perturbation, or otherwise elevated with rational joy and pleasure, I ought to use a countenance that expresses a filial respect, mixed with a kind of smiling, that signifies inward joy, and satisfaction, and admiration."

An Invocation follows, resembling in style some of the Psalms of David:

"O Creator, O Father! I believe that thou art good, and that