In the Days of Poor Richard Part 14

When they were seated before the grate fire in the large, pleasant room above stairs whose windows looked out upon the Square, the young man said:

"First I shall give you, sir, a letter from Major Was.h.i.+ngton. It was entrusted to a friend of mine who came on the same s.h.i.+p with me. He was arrested at Deal but, fortunately, the letter was in my pocket."

"Arrested? Why?"

"I think, sir, the charge was that he had helped to tar and feather a British subject."

"Feathers and tar are poor arguments," the Doctor remarked as he broke the seal of the letter.

It was a long letter and Franklin sat for near half an hour thoughtfully reading and rereading it. By and by he folded and put it into his pocket, saying as he did so: "An angry man can not even trust himself. I sent some letters to America on condition that they should be read by a committee of good men and treated in absolute confidence and returned to me. Certain members of that committee had so much gun powder in their hearts it took fire and their prudence and my reputation have been seriously damaged, I fear. The contents of those letters are now probably known to you."

"Are they the Hutchinson, Rogers and Oliver letters?"

"The same."

"I think they are known to every one in America that reads. We were indignant that these men born and raised among us should have said that a colony ought not to enjoy all the liberties of a parent state and that we should be subjected to coercive measures. They had expressed no such opinion save in these private letters. It looked like a base effort to curry favor with the English government."

"Yes, they were overworking the curry comb," said Franklin. "I had been protesting against an armed force in Boston. The government declared that our own best people were in favor of it. I, knowing better, denied the statement. To prove their claim a distinguished baronet put the letters in my hands. He gave me leave to send them to America on condition that they should not be published. Of course they proved nothing but the treachery of Hutchinson, Rogers and Oliver. Now I seem to be tarred by the same stick."

Jack delivered sundry letters from the family of the great man who read them carefully.

"It's good to hear from home," he said when he had finished. "You've heard of the three Greenlanders, off the rocks and ice where there was not dirt enough to raise a bushel of cabbages or light enough for half the year to make a shadow, who having seen the world and its splendors said it was interesting, but that they would prefer to live at home?"

"These days America is an unhappy land," said Jack. "We are like a wildcat in captivity--a growling, quarrelsome lot."

"Well, the British use the right to govern us like a baby rattle and they find us a poor toy. This petty island, compared with America, is but a stepping stone in a brook. There's scarcely enough of it out of water to keep one's feet dry. In two generations our population will exceed that of the British Isles. But with so many lying agents over there what chance have they to learn anything about us? They will expect to hear you tell of people being tomahawked in Philadelphia--a city as well governed as any in England. They can not understand that most of us would gladly spend nineteen s.h.i.+llings to the pound for the right to spend the other s.h.i.+lling as we please."

"Can they not be made to understand us?" Jack inquired.

"The power to learn is like your hand--you must use it or it will wither and die. There are brilliant intellects here which have lost the capacity to learn. I think that profound knowledge is not for high heads."

"I wonder just what you mean."

"Oh, the moment you lose humility, you stop learning," the Doctor went on. "There are two doors to every intellect. One lets knowledge in, the other lets it out. We must keep both doors in use. The mind is like a purse: if you keep paying out money, you must, now and then, put some into your purse or it will be empty. I once knew a man who was a liberal spender but never did any earning. We soon found that he had been making counterfeit money. The King's intellects have often put me in mind of him. They are flush with knowledge but they never learn anything. They can tell you all you may want to know but it is counterfeit knowledge."

"How about Lord North?"

"He has nailed up the door. The African zebra is a good student compared to him. It is a maxim of Walpole and North that all men are equally corrupt."

"It is a hateful notion!" Jack exclaimed.

"But not without some warrant. You may be sure that a man who has spent his life in hospitals will have no high opinion of the health of mankind. He and his friends are so engrossed by their cards and c.o.c.k fights and horses and hounds that they have little time for such a trivial matter as the problems of America. They postpone their consideration and meanwhile the house is catching fire. By and by these boys are going to get burned. They think us a lot of semi-savages not to be taken seriously. Our New England farmers are supposed to be like the peasants of Europe. The fact is, our average farmer is a man of better intellect and character than the average member of Parliament."

"The King's intellects would seem to be out of order," said Jack.

"And too cynical. They think only of revenues. They remind me of the report of the Reverend Commissary Blair who, having projected a college in Virginia, came to England to ask King William for help. The Queen in the King's absence ordered her Attorney-General to draw a charter with a grant of two thousand pounds. The Attorney opposed it on the ground that they were in a war and needed the money for better purposes.

"'But, Your Honor, Virginia is in great need of ministers,' said the commissary. 'It has souls to be saved.'

"'Souls--d.a.m.n your souls! Make tobacco,' said the Queen's lawyer.

"The counselors of royalty have no high opinion of souls or principles.

Think of these taxes on exports needed by neighbors. The minds that invented them had the genius of a pickpocket."

"I see that you are not in love with England, sir," said Jack.

"My boy, you do not see straight," the Doctor answered. "I am fond of England. At heart she is sound. The King is a kind of wooden leg. He has no feeling and no connection whatever with her heart and little with her intellect. The people are out of sympathy with the King. The best minds in England are directly opposed to the King's policy; so are most of the people, but they are helpless. He has throttled the voting power of the country. Jack, I have told you all this and shall tell you more because--well, you know Plato said that he would rather be a blockhead than have all knowledge and n.o.body to share it. You ought to know the truth but I have told you only for your own information."

"I am going to write letters to _The Gazette_ but I shall not quote you, sir, without permission," said Jack.

At this point the attendant entered and announced that Mr. Thomas Paine had called to get his ma.n.u.script.

"Bring him up," said the Doctor.

In a moment a slim, dark-eyed man of about thirty-three in shabby, ill-fitting garments entered the room.

Doctor Franklin shook his hand and gave him a bundle of ma.n.u.script and said:

"It is well done but I think it unsound. I would not publish it."

"Why?" Paine asked with a look of disappointment.

"Well, it is spitting against the wind and he who spits against the wind spits in his own face. It would be a dangerous book. Think how great a portion of mankind are weak and ignorant men and women; think how many are young and inexperienced and incapable of serious thought.

They need religion to support their virtue and restrain them from vice.

If men are so wicked with religion what would they be without it? Lay the ma.n.u.script away and we will have a talk about it later."

"I should like to talk with you about it," the man answered with a smile and departed, the bundle under his arm.

"Now, Jack," said Franklin, as he looked at his watch, "I can give you a quarter of an hour before I must go and dress for dinner. Please tell me about your resources. Are you able to get married?"

Jack told him of his prospects and especially of the generosity of his friend Solomon Binkus and of the plight the latter was in.

"He must be a remarkable man," said Franklin. "With Preston's help he will be coming on to London in a day or so. If necessary you and I will go down there. We shall not neglect him. Have you any dinner clothes? They will be important to you."

"I thought, sir, that I should best wait until I had arrived here."

"You thought wisely. I shall introduce you to a good cloth mechanic.

Go to him at once and get one suit for dinner and perhaps two for the street. It costs money to be a gentleman here. It's a fine art.

While you are in London you'll have to get the uniform and fall in line and go through the evolutions or you will be a 'North American savage.'

You shall meet the Hares in my house as soon as your clothes are ready.

Ask the tailor to hurry up. They must be finished by Wednesday noon.

You had better have lodgings near me. I will attend to that for you."

The Doctor sat down and wrote on a number of cards. "These will provide for cloth, linen, leather and hats," he said. "Let the bills be sent to me. Then you will not be cheated. Come in to-morrow at half after two."

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