winds and waterspouts, as well as the obser- increase our regret, that the talents of the vations on the course of the winds and on cold, author should have been wasted on such seem to be excellent. The paper called Mari-perishable materials. time Observations is full of ingenuity and There is not much written on the subject of practical good sense; and the remarks on the dispute with the colonies; and most of Dr. Evaporation, and on the Tides, most of which Franklin's papers on that subject are already are contained in a series of letters to a young well known to the public. His examination be lady, are admirable, not merely for their per- fore the House of Commons in 1766 aflords a spicuity, but for the interest and amusement striking proof of the extent of his information, they are calculated to communicate to every the clearness and force of his extempore comdescription of readers. The remarks on Fire-position, and the steadiness and self-possession places and Smoky chimnies are infinitely more original, concise, and scientific, than those of Count Rumford; and the observations on the Gulph-stream afford, we believe, the first example of just theory, and accurate investigation, applied to that phenomenon. Dr. Franklin, we think, has never made use of the mathematics, in his investigation of the phenomena of nature; and though this may render it surprising that he has fallen into so few errors of importance, we conceive that it helps in some measure to explain the unequalled perspicuity and vivacity of his expositions. An algebraist, who can work wonders with letters, seldom condescends to be much indebted to words; and thinks himself entitled to make his sentences obscure, provided his calculations be distinct. A writer who has nothing but words to make use of, must make all the use he can of them: he cannot afford to neglect the only chance he has of being understood. we which enabled him to display these qualities with so much effect upon such an occasion. His letters before the commencement of hostilities are full of grief and anxiety; but, no sooner did matters come to extremities, than he appears to have assumed a certain keen and confident cheerfulness, not unmixed with a seasoning of asperity, and more vindictiveness of spirit than perhaps became a philoso pher. In a letter written in October 1775, he expresses himself in this manner: "Tell our dear good friend ** who sometimes has his doubts and despondencies about our firm. ness, that America is determined and unanimous; a very few Tories and placemen excepted, who will probably soon export themselves. Britain, at the expense of three millions, has killed one hun dred and fifty Yankies this campaign, which is 20,0001. a head; and, at Bunker's Hill, she gained a mile of ground, half of which she lost again by our taking post on Ploughed Hill. During the same time, sixty thousand children have been born in America. From these data, his mathematical The following letters, which passed between Dr. Franklin and Lord Howe, when his Lordship arrived off the American coast with what were called the pacificatory proposals in 1776, show not only the consideration in which the former was held by the Noble Commissioner, but contain a very striking and prophetic statement of the consequences to be apprehended from the of Great Britain in her schemes of compulsion. His Lordship writes, in June 1776, perseverance We should now say something of the politi-head will easily calculate the time and expense neccal writings of Dr. Franklin,-the productions tory."-vol. iii, p. 357, 358. essary to kill us all, and conquer our whole terriwhich first raised him into public office and eminence, and which will be least read or attended to by posterity. They may be divided into two parts; those which relate to the internal affairs and provincial differences of the American colonies, before their quarrel with the mother country; and those which relate to that quarrel and its consequences. The former are no longer in any degree interesting: and the editor has done wisely, think, in presenting his readers with an abstract only of the longest of them. This was published in 1759, under the title of an Historical Review of the Constitution of Pennsylvania, and consisted of upwards of 500 pages, composed for the purpose of showing that the political privileges reserved to the founder of the colony had been illegally and oppressively used. The Canada pamphlet, written in 1760, for the purpose of pointing out the importance of retaining that colony at the peace, is given cntire; and appears to be composed with great force of reason, and in a style of extraordinary perspicuity. The same may be said of what are called the Albany Papers, or the plan for a general political union of the colonies in 1754; and a variety of other tracts on the provincial politics of that day. All these are worth preserving, both as monuments of Dr. Franklin's talents and activity, and as affording, in many places, very excellent models of strong reasoning and popular eloquence: but the interest of the subjects is now completely gone by; and the few specimens of general reasoning which we meet with, serve only to "I cannot, my worthy friend, permit the letters and parcels, which I have sent (in the state I re ceived them.) to be landed, without adding a word upon the subject of the injurious extremities in which our unhappy disputes have engaged us. You will learn the nature of my mission, from the official despatches which I have recommended to be forwarded by the same conveyance. Retaining all the earnestness I ever expressed, to see our differences accommodated; I shall conceive, if I was once taught to expect, the most flattering hopes meet with the disposition in the colonies which I of proving serviceable in the objects of the King's paternal solicitude, by promoting the establishment of lasting peace and union with the Colonies. But, if the deep-rooted prejudices of America, and the necessity of preventing her trade from passing into foreign channels, must keep us still a divided people, I shall, from every private as well as public mouve, most heartily lament, that this is not the moment, wherein those great objects of my ambition are to be attained, and that I am to be longer deprived of an opportunity to assure you, personally, of the re gard with which I am, &c."-vol. iii. p. 365–367. Dr. Franklin answered, "I received safe the letters your Lordship so kindly forwarded to me, and beg you to accept my thanks. "The official despatches to which you refer me, contain nothing more than what we had seen in the act of Parliament, viz. ' Offers of pardon upon submission; which I was sorry to find; as it must give your Lordship pain to be sent so far on so hopeless a business. Directing pardons to be offered to the colonies, who are the very parties injured, expresses indeed that opinion of our ignorance, baseness, and insensbility, which your uninformed and proud nation has long been pleased to entertain of us; but it can have no other effect than that of increasing our resentments. It is impossible we should think of ubmission to a government that has, with the most anton barbarity and cruelty, burned our defenceless towns in the midst of winter; excited the arages to massacre our (peaceful) farmers, and our slaves to murder their masters; and is even now* bringing foreign mercenaries to deluge our settlements with blood. These atrocious injuries have crtinguished every spark of affection for that parent Country we once held so dear: but, were it possible for us to forget and forgive them, it is not possible for you (I mean the British nation) to forgive the people you have so heavily injured. You can never confide again in those as fellow-subjects, and permit them to enjoy equal freedom, to whom you know you have given such just causes of lasting enniity: and this must impel you, were we again under your government, to endeavour the breaking our spirit by the severest tyranny, and obstructing, by every means in your power, our growing strength and prosperity. But your Lordship mentions the King's paternal solicitude for promoting the establishment of lasting peace and union with the Colonies.' If by pence is here meant, a peace to be entered into by distinct states, now at war; and his Majesty has given your Lordship powers to treat with us of such a peace; I may venture to say, though without authority, that I think a treaty for that purpose not quite impracticable, before we enter into foreign liances. But I am persuaded you have no such powers. Your nation, though, by punishing those American governors who have fomented the discord, rebuilding our burnt towns, and repairing as far as possible the mischiefs done us, she might recover a great share of our regard, and the greatest share of our growing commerce, with all the advantages of that additional strength, to be derived from a friendship with us; yet I know too well her abounding pride and deficient wisdom, to believe she will ever take such salutary measures. Her fondness for conquest as a warlike nation; her lust of dominion an ambitious one; and her thirst for a gainful monopoly as a commercial one, (none of them legit. imate causes of war.) will join to hide from her yes every view of her true interest, and conmally goad her on in those ruinous distant expeditions, so destructive both of lives and of treasure, that they must prove as pernicious to her in the end, the Croisades formerly were to most of the natons of Europe. I tations that a reconciliation might soon take place. I had the misfortune to find these expectations disappointed, and to be treated as the cause of the mischief I was labouring to prevent. My consolation under that groundless and malevolent treatment was, that I retained the friendship of many wise and good men in that country; and, among the rest, some share in the regard of Lord Howe. ་ The well-founded esteem, and, permit me to say, affection, which I shall always have for your Lordship, make it painful to me to see you engaged in conducting a war, the great ground of which (as described in your letter) is the necessity of preventing the American trade from passing into foreign channels.' To me it seems, that neither the obtaining or retaining any trade, how valuable soever, is an object for which men may justly spill each other's blood; that the true and sure means of extending and securing commerce, are the goodness and cheapness of commodities; and that the profits of no trade can ever be equal to the expense of compelling it, and holding it by fleets and armies. I consider this war against us, therefore, as both unjust and unwise; and I am persuaded that cool and dispassionate posterity will condemn to infamy those who advised it; and that even success will not save from some degree of dishonour, those who have voluntarily engaged to conduct it. "I know your great motive in coming hither was the hope of being instrumental in a reconciliation; and I believe, when you find that to be impossible, on any terms given you to propose, you will then relinquish so odious a command, and return to a more honourable private station. "With the greatest and most sincere respect, I have the honour to be, &c.”—vol. iii. p. 367–371. None of Dr. Franklin's political writings, during the nine years when he resided as Ambassador at the Court of France, have yet been made public. Some of them, we should imagine, must be highly interesting. Of the merit of this author as a political economist, we have already had occasion to say something, in the general remarks which we made on the character of his genius; and we cannot now spare time to go much into particulars. He is perfectly sound upon many important and practical points;-upon the corn-trade, and the theory of money, for instance; and also upon the more general doctrines, as to the freedom of commerce, and the principle of population. In the more ele mentary and abstract parts of the science, however, his views seem to have been less just and luminous. He is not very consistent or profound in what he says of the effects of luxury; and seems to have gone headlong into the radical error of the Economistes, when he maintains, that all that is done by manufacture, is to embody the value of the manu facturer's subsistence in his work, and that agriculture is the only source from which a real increase of wealth can be derived. An other favourite position is, that all commerce "I have not the vanity, my Lord, to think of intimidating, by thus predicting the effects of this war; for I know it will in England have the fate of all my former predictions-not to be believed all the event shall verify it. Long did I endeavour, with unfeigned and un-is cheating, where a commodity, produced by aried zeal, to preserve from breaking that fine a certain quantity of labour, is exchanged for and noble porcelain vase-the British empire; for another, on which more labour has been exknew that, being once broken, the separate parts pended; and that the only fair price of any could not retain even their share of the strength and thing, is some other thing requiring the same value that existed in the whole; and that a perfect exertion to bring it to market. This is evireunion of those parts could scarce ever be hoped dently a very narrow and erroneous view of for Your Lordship may possibly remember the e of joy that wetted my cheek, when, at your the nature of commerce. The fair price to fond sister's in London, you once gave me expec. the purchaser is, whatever he deliberately At the time the Hessians, &c. had just arrived chooses to give, rather than go without the from Europe at Staten Leland and New York. B. V commodity;-it is no matter to him, whether the seller bestowed much or little labour upon | ders of Boston and Philadelphia, such warte it, or whether it came into his possession ings were altogether unnecessary; and he without any labour at all;-whether it be a endeavoured, therefore, with more appropri diamond, which he picked up, or a picture, at ate eloquence, to impress upon them the imwhich he had been working for years. The portance of industry, sobriety, and economy, commodity is not valued by the purchaser, and to direct their wise and humble ambition on account of the labour which is supposed to to the attainment of useful knowledge and be embodied in it, but solely on account of honourable independence. That morality, certain qualities, which he finds convenient after all, is certainly the most valuable, which or agreeable: he compares the convenience is adapted to the circumstances of the greater and delight which he expects to derive from part of mankind; and that eloquence the most this object, with the convenience and delight meritorious, that is calculated to convince and which is afforded by the things asked in ex-persuade the multitude to virtue. Nothing change for it; and if he find the former preponderate, he consents to the exchange, and makes a beneficial bargain. We have stated the case in the name of a purchaser, because, in barter, both parties are truly purchasers, and act upon the same principles; and it is easy to show, that all commerce resolves itself, ultimately, into barter. There can be no unfairness in trade, except where there is concealment on the part of the seller, either of the defects of the commodity, or of the fact that the purchaser may be supplied with it at a cheaper rate by another. It is a matter of fact, but not of morality, that the price of most commodities will be influenced by the labour employed in producing them. If they are capable of being produced in unlimited quantities, the competition of the producers will sink the price very nearly to what is necessary to maintain this labour; and the impossibility of continuing the production, without repaying that labour, will prevent it from sinking lower. The doctrine does not apply at all, to cases where the materials, or the skill necessary to work them up, are scarce in proportion to the demand. The author's speculations on the effects of paper-money, seem also to be superficial and inaccurate. Statistics had not been carefully studied in the days of his activity; and, accordingly, we meet with a good deal of loose assumption, and sweeping calculation in his writings. Yet he had a genius for exact observation, and complicated detail; and probably wanted nothing but leisure, to have made very great advances in this branch of economy. As a writer on morality and general literature, the merits of Dr. Franklin cannot be estimated properly, without taking into consideration the peculiarities that have been already alluded to in his early history and situation. He never had the benefit of any academical instruction, nor of the society of men of letters-his style was formed entirely by his own judgment and occasional reading; and most of his moral pieces were written while he was a tradesman, addressing himself to the tradesmen of his native city. We cannot expect, therefore, either that he should write with extraordinary elegance or grace; or that he should treat of the accomplishments, follies, and occupations of polite life. He had no great occasion, as a moralist, to expose the guilt and the folly of gaming or seduction; or to point a poignant and playful ridicule against the lighter immoralities of fashionable life. To the mechanics and tra can be more perfectly and beautifully adapted to its object, than most of Dr. Franklin's compositions of this sort. The tone of famili arity, of good-will, and homely jocularitythe plain and pointed illustrations-the short sentences, made up of short words-and the strong sense, clear information, and obvious conviction of the author himself, make most of his moral exhortations perfect models of popular eloquence; and afford the finest specimens of a style which has been but too little cultivated in a country which numbers perhaps more than half a million of readers among its tradesmen and artificers. In writings which possess such solid and unusual merit, it is of no great consequence that the fastidious eye of a critic can discover many blemishes. There is a good deal of vulgarity in the practical writings of Dr. Franklin; and more vulgarity than was any way necessary for the object he had in view. There is something childish, too, in some of his attempts at pleasantry; his story of the Whistle, and his Parisian letter, announcing the discovery that the sun gives light as soon as he rises, are instances of this. The solilo quy of an Ephemeris, however, is much better; and both it, and the Dialogue with the Gout, are executed with the lightness and spirit of genuine French compositions. The Speech in the Divan of Algiers, composed as a parody on those of the defenders of the slave trade, and the scriptural parable against persecution are inimitable; they have all the point and facility of the fine pleasantries of Swift and Arbuthnot, with something more of directness and apparent sincerity. The style of his letters, in general, is excellent. They are chiefly remarkable, for great simplicity of language, admirable good sense and ingenuity, and an amiable and inoffensive cheerfulness, that is never overclouded or eclipsed. Among the most valua ble of the writings that are published for the first time, in the present edition, are four let ters from Dr. Franklin to Mr. Whatley, writ ten within a few years of his death, and expressive of all that unbroken gaiety, phi lanthropy, and activity, which distinguish the compositions of his earlier years. We give with pleasure the following extracts. "I am not acquainted with the saying of Alphon sus, which you allude to as a sanctification of your rigidity, in refusing to allow me the plea of old age as an excuse for my want of exactitude in corre spondence. What was that saying?-You do not, it seems, feel any occasion for such an excuse, though DR. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. you are, as you say, rising seventy-five, but I am rising (perhaps more properly falling) eighty-and I leave the excuse with you till you arrive at that age; perhaps you may then be more sensible of its validity, and see fit to use it for yourself. their way home) whether, now they had seen how much more commodiously the white people lived by the help of the arts, they would not choose to remain among us-their answer was, that they were pleased with having had an opportunity of seeing "I must agree with you that the gout is bad, and many fine things, but they chose to live in their own that the stone is worse. I am happy in not having country: which country, by the way, consisted of them both together; and I join in your prayer, that rock only: for the Moravians were obliged to caryou may live till you die without either. But I doubt ry earth in their ship from New York, for the purthe author of the epitaph you sent me is a little mis-pose of making there a cabbage garden!"-Vol. üi. taken, when, speaking of the world, he says, that pp. 550, 551. -'he ne'er car'd a pin What they said or may say of the mortal within.' "It is so natural to wish to be well spoken of, whether alive or dead, that I imagine he could not be quite exempt from that desire; and that at least he wished to be thought a wit, or he would not have given himself the trouble of writing so good an epitaph to leave behind him."-" You see I have some reason to wish that in a future state I may not only be as well as I was, but a little better. And I hope it: for I, too, with your poet, trust in God. And when I observe, that there is great frugality as well as wisdom in his works, since he has been evidently sparing both of labour and materials; for, by the various wonderful inventions of propagation, he has provided for the continual peopling his world with plants and animals, without being at the trouble of repeated new creations: and by the natural reduction of compound substances to their original elements, capable of being employed in new compositions, he has prevented the neces sity of creating new matter; for that the earth, water, air, and perhaps fire, which being compounded, form wood, do, when the wood is dissolved, return, and again become air, earth, fire and water;say, that when I see nothing annihilated, and not even a drop of water wasted, I cannot suspect the annihilation of souls; or believe that he will suffer the daily waste of millions of minds ready made that now exist, and put himself to the continual Thus finding mytrouble of making new ones. self to exist in the world. I believe I shall in some shape or other always exist. And with all the inconvemences human life is liable to, I shall not object to a new edition of mine; hoping, however, that the errata of the last may be corrected."-Vol. I m. pp. 546-548. "You are now seventy-eight, and I am eightytwo. You tread fast upon my heels; but, though you have more strength and spirit, you cannot come up with me till I stop, which must now be soon; for I am grown so old as to have buried most of the friends of my youth; and I now often hear persons, whom I knew when children, called old Mr. such a one, to distinguish them from their sons, now men grown, and in business; so that, by living twelve years beyond David's period, I seem to when I ought to have been abed and asleep. Yet have intruded myself into the company of posterity, had I gone at seventy, it would have cut off twelve of the most active years of my life, employed, too, in matters of the greatest importance: but whether I have been doing good or mischief, is for time to discover. I only know that I intended well, and hope all will end well. I "Be so good as to present my affectionate retions to him, and shall write to him shortly. It spects to Dr. Rowley. I am under great obligawill be a pleasure to him to hear that my malady does not grow sensibly worse, and that is a great point; for it has always been so tolerable, as not to prevent my enjoying the pleasures of society, and, being cheerful in conversation. I owe this in a great measure to his good counsels."—Vol. iii. PP. 555, 556. 66 Your eyes must continue very good, since you There is something extremely amiable in "Our constitution seems not to be well understood with you. If the congress were a permanent body, there would be more reason in being jealous of giving it powers. But its members are chosen annually, and cannot be chosen more than three years successively, nor more than three years in seven, and any of them may be recalled at any time, whenever their constituents shall be dissatisfied with their conduct. They are of the people, and return again to mix with the people, having no more durable preeminence than the different grains of sand in an hour-glass. Such an assembly cannot easily become dangerous to liberty. They are the servants of the people, sent together to do the people's business, and promote the public welfare; their powers must be sufficient, or their duties cannot be performed. They have no profitable apHis account of his own life, down to the pointments, but a mere payment of daily wages, mach as are scarcely equivalent to their expenses; year 1730, has been in the hands of the pubBo that, having no chance of great places and enormous salaries or pensions, as in some countries, lic since 1790. It is written with great simthere is no intriguing or bribing for elections. Iplicity and liveliness, though it contains too wish Old England were as happy in its government, but I do not see it. Your people, however, think their constitution the best in the world, and affect to despise ours. It is comfortable to have a good opinion of one's self, and of every thing that belongs to us; to think one's own religion, king, and wife, the best of all possible wives, kings, and religions. I remember three Greenlanders, who bad travelled two years in Europe, under the care of some Moravian missionaries, and had visited Germany, Denmark, Holland, and England: when I asked them at Philadelphia (when they were in many trifling details and anecdotes of obscure individuals. It affords however a striking example of the irresistible force with which talents and industry bear upwards in society; as well as an impressive illustration of the substantial wisdom and good policy of invariable integrity and candour. We should think it a very useful reading for all young persons of unconfirmed principles, who have their fortunes to make or to mend in the world. Upon the whole, we look upon the life and | cess; and has only been found deficient in writings of Dr. Franklin as affording a striking those studies which the learned have gene. illustration of the incalculable value of a rally turned from in disdain. We would not be sound and well directed understanding; and understood to say any thing in disparagement of the comparative uselessness of learning of scholarship and science; but the value and laborious accomplishments. Without the of these instruments is apt to be over-rated slightest pretensions to the character of a by their possessors; and it is a wholesome scholar or a man of science, he has extended mortification, to show them that the work the bounds of human knowledge on a variety may be done without them. We have long of subjects, which scholars and men of sci-known that their employment does not insure ence had previously investigated without suc- its success. (September, 1816.) The Works of JONATHAN SWIFT, D. D., Dean of St. Patrick's, Dublin. Containing Additional Letters, Tracts, and Poems not hitherto published. With Notes, and a life of the Author, by WALTER SCOTT, Esq. 19 vols. 8vo. Edinburgh: 1815. By far the most considerable change which | that they are declined considerably from 'the has taken place in the world of letters, in our high meridian of their glory,' and may fairly days, is that by which the wits of Queen be apprehended to be hastening to their setAnne's time have been gradually brought ting. Neither is it time alone that has down from the supremacy which they had wrought this obscuration; for the fame of enjoyed, without competition, for the best part Shakespeare still shines in undecaying brightof a century. When we were at our studies, ness; and that of Bacon has been steadily some twenty-five years ago, we can perfectly advancing and gathering new honours during remember that every young man was set to the whole period which has witnessed the rise read Pope, Swift, and Addison, as regularly and decline of his less vigorous successors. as Virgil, Cicero, and Horace. All who had any tincture of letters were familiar with their writings and their history; allusions to them abounded in all popular discourses and all ambitious conversation; and they and their contemporaries were universally acknowledged as our great models of excellence, and placed without challenge at the head of our national literature. New books, even when allowed to have merit, were never thought of as fit to be placed in the same class, but were generally read and forgotten, and passed away like the transitory meteors of a lower sky; while they remained in their brightness, and were supposed to shine with a fixed and unalterable glory. There are but two possible solutions for phenomena of this sort. Our taste has either degenerated-or its old models have been fairly surpassed; and we have ceased to admire the writers of the last century, only because they are too good for us-or because they are not good enough. Now, we confess we are no believers in the absolute and permanent corruption of national taste; on the contrary, we think that it is, of all faculties, that which is most sure to advance and improve with time and experience; and that, with the exception of those great physical or political disasters which have given a check to civilization itself, there has always been a sensible progress in this particular; and that All this, however, we take it, is now pretty the general taste of every successive generawell altered; and in so far as persons of our tion is better than that of its predecessors. antiquity can judge of the training and habits There are little capricious fluctuations, no of the rising generation, those celebrated doubt, and fits of foolish admiration or fastiwriters no longer form the manual of our studiousness, which cannot be so easily accountdious youth, or enter necessarily into the institution of a liberal education. Their names, indeed, are still familiar to our ears; but their writings no longer solicit our habitual notice, and their subjects begin already to fade from our recollection. Their high privilieges and proud distinctions, at any rate, have evidently passed into other hands. It is no longer to them that the ambitious look up with envy, or the humble with admiration; nor is it in their pages that the pretenders to wit and eloquence now search for allusions that are sure to captivate, and illustrations that cannot be mistaken. In this decay of their reputation they have few advocates, and no imitators: and from a comparison of many observations, it seems to be clearly ascertained, ed for: but the great movements are all progressive: and though the progress consists at one time in withholding toleration from gross faults, and at another in giving their high prerogative to great beauties, this alternation has no tendency to obstruct the general advance; but, on the contrary, is the best and the safest course in which it can be conducted. We are of opinion, then, that the writers who adorned the beginning of the last century have been eclipsed by those of our own time; and that they have no chance of ever regaining the supremacy in which they have thus been supplanted. There is not, however, in our judgment, any thing very stupendous in this triumph of our contemporaries and |