of physicians they meant to include old women; if they did, he thought they had done more good than harm; otherwise, more harm than good."

The confederation of the States, while on the carpet before the old Congress, was strenuously opposed by the smaller States, which feared being swallowed up by the larger ones. We were long engaged in the discussion; it produced great heats, much ill humor, and intemperate declarations from some members. Dr. Franklin at length brought the debate to a close with one of his little apologues. He observed that "at the time of the union of England and Scotland, the Duke of Argyle was most violently opposed to that measure, and among other things predicted that, as the whale had swallowed Jonah, so Scotland would be swallowed by England. However," said the Doctor, "when Lord Bute came into the government, he soon brought into its administration so many of his countrymen, that it was found in the event that Jonah swallowed the whale." This little story produced a general laugh, and restored good humor, and the article of difficulty was passed.

When Dr. Franklin went to France on his revolutionary mission, his eminence as a philosopher, his venerable appearance, and the cause on which he was sent, rendered him extremely popular. For all ranks and conditions of men there entered warmly into the American interest. He was, therefore, feasted and invited to all the court parties. At these he sometimes met the old Duchess of Bourbon, who, being a chess-player of about his force, they very generally played together. Happening once to put her king into prize, the Doctor took it. "Ah," says she, we do not take kings so!" We do in America," said the Doctor.

At one of these parties, the Emperor Joseph II., then at Paris, incog., under the title of Count Falkenstein, was overlooking the game in silence, while the company was engaged in animated conversations on the American question. How happens it, M. le Comte," said the Duchess, "that while we all feel so much interest in the cause of the Americans, you say nothing for them?" "I am a King by trade," said he.

The Doctor told me at Paris the two following anecdotes of the Abbé Raynal. He had a party to dine with him one day at Passy, of whom one half were Americans, the other half French, and among the last was the Abbé. During the dinner he got on his favorite theory of the degeneracy of animals, and even of man, in America, and urged it with his usual eloquence. The Doctor at length noticing the accidental stature and position of his guests, at table, "Come," says he, "M. l'Abbé, let us try this question by the fact before us. We are here one half Americans, and one half French, and it happens that the Americans have placed themselves on one side of the table, and our French friends are on the other. Let both parties rise, and we will see on which side nature has degenerated." It happened that his American guests were Carmichael, Harmer, Humphreys, and others of the finest stature and form; while those of the other side were remarkably

diminutive; and the Abbé himself particularly was a mere shrimp. He parried the appeal, however, by a complimentary admission of exceptions, among which the Doctor himself was a conspicuous one.

The Doctor and Silas Deane were in conversation one day at Passy, on the numerous errors in the Abbé's "Histoire des deux Indes," when he happened to step in. After the usual salutations, Silas Deane said to him, "The Doctor and myself, Abbé, were just speaking of the errors of fact into which you have been led in your history." 'Oh, no, sir," said the Abbé, "that is impossible, I took great pains not to insert a single fact for which I had not the most unquestionable authority." "Why," says Deane, "there is the story of Polly Baker, and the eloquent apology you have put into her mouth, when brought before a court of Massachusetts to suffer punishment under a law which you cite for having had a bastard. I know there never was such a law in Massachusetts." "Be assured," said the Abbé, “you are mistaken, and that is a true story. I do not immediately recollect the particular information on which I quote it; but I am certain I had for it unquestionable authority." Doctor Franklin, who had been for some time shaking with unrestrained laughter at the Abbé's confidence in his authority for that tale, said, "I will tell you, Abbé, the origin of that story. When I was a printer, and editor of a newspaper, we were sometimes slack of news, and, to amuse our customers, I used to fill up our vacant columns with anecdotes and fables, and fancies of my own, and this of Polly Baker is a story of my making, on one of these occasions." The Abbé, without the least disconcern, exclaimed, with a laugh, "Oh, very well, Doctor, I had rather relate your stories than other men's truths."-Ed.

CHAPTER IX.

Preparation for leaving France-The Cargo of Onions-Foundling Hospitals-The Three Greenlanders-Official Salaries-American Royalists -Elective Bishops-His Abridged Liturgy-Quits Passy-Journey to Havre-Voyage to Southampton-Attention from English FriendsVoyage to the United States-Arrival Home.

To Mrs. Mary Hewson, dated Passy, 5 May, 1785. home.

1785.

*

I RECEIVED your little letter from Dover, which gave me great pleasure, as it informed me of your happy progress so far in your way I hope the rest of your journey was as prosperous. You talk of obligations to me, when in fact I am the person obliged. I passed a long winter, which appeared the shortest of any I ever past. Such is the effect of pleasing society, with friends one loves.

and am

I have now received my permission to return, making my preparations. I hope to get away in June. I promise myself, or rather flatter myself, that I shall be happy when at home. But, however happy that circumstance may make me, your joining me there will surely make me happier, provided your change of country may

She and her children had spent the previous winter with Franklin at Passy.-ED.

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be for the advantage of your dear little family.

When you have made up your mind on the subject, let me know by a line, that I may prepare a house for you as near me, and otherwise as convenient for you, as possible.

My neighbours begin to come out from Paris, and replace themselves in their Passy houses. They inquire after you, and are sorry you are gone before they could make themselves known to you. M. Le Veillard, in particular, has told me at different times, what indeed I knew long since, C'est une bien digne femme, cette Madame Hewson, une très aimable femme. I would not tell you this if I thought it would make you vain; but that is impossible; you have too much good sense.

So wish me a good voyage, and, when you pray at church for all that travel by land or sea, think of your ever affectionate friend.

P. S. My love to William, and Thomas, and Eliza, and tell them I miss their cheerful prattle. Temple being sick, and Benjamin at Paris, I have found it very triste breakfasting alone, and sitting alone, and without any tea in the evening.

To Jonathan
Williams, da-

ted Passy, 19
May, 1785.

The conversations you mention respect

ing America are suitable. Those people speak what they wish; but she was certainly never in a more happy situation. They are angry with us, and speak all manner of evil of us; but we flourish, notwithstanding. They put me in mind of a violent High Church factor, resident in Boston, when I was a boy. He had bought upon speculation a Connecticut cargo of onions, which he flattered himself he might sell again to great profit, but the

price fell, and they lay upon hand. He was heartily vexed with his bargain, especially when he observed they began to grow in the store he had filled with them. He showed them one day to a friend. "Here they are," said he, "and they are growing too! I damn them every day; but I think they are like the Presbyterians; the more I curse them, the more they grow."

Το George
Whatley, da-

ted Passy, 23
May, 1785.

I sent you a few lines the other day, with my medallion, when I should have written more, but was prevented by the coming in of a bavard, who worried me till evening. I bore with him, and now you are to bear with me; for I shall probably bavarder in answering your letter.

I am not acquainted with the saying of Alphonsus, 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 exactness in correspondence. What was that saying? You do not, it seems, feel any occasion for such an excuse, though 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.

I must agree with you, that the gout is bad, and that the stone is worse. I am happy in not having them both together, and I join in your prayer, that you may live till you die without either. But I doubt the author of the epitaph you send me was a little mistaken, when he, speaking of the world, says, that

'he ne'er cared a pin What they said or may say of the mortal within."