Are preferable to these shreds of paper, These unquenched snuffings of the midnight taper.

"Of these same we see several, and of others,

Men of the world, who know the world

like men,

Stt, R-s, M-re, and all the better brothers,

Who think of something else besides the pen;

But for the children of the mighty mother's,'

6

The would-be wits and can't-be gentlemen, I leave them to their daily tea is ready,' Smug coterie, and literary lady."

We have scarcely left room for the few cursory remarks we intended on this clever production, but it is of the less consequence, since the copious extracts we have given will enable our readers to form for themselves a very competent judgment of its style and character, and as we have the prospect of meeting again so speedily with the (supposed) author on a more interesting subject. The present effusion (we can scarcely call it poem) certainly displays sufficient ability not to be discreditable even to the talents of Lord Byron; and it is written in a style so perfectly easy and free from pretension, that one is involuntarily led to give the author credit for higher powers of wit and humour than he has on the present occasion put forth. We have, however, too profound an admiration of his Lordship's extraordinary talents not to feel some anxiety as to their application; and we are, on the whole, disposed to think that his forte does not lie in this direction. The admirable writer, too, upon whose style as well as stanza Beppo appears to have been chiefly modelled, is as unlikely, we apprehend, to be surpassed on his own ground by any living rival as the author of Childe Harold on his; and, though the poem of "Anster Fair,' notwithstanding its singular humour and originality, has hitherto failed (probably from the manifold disadvantages under which it first appeared) to attract any great degree of attention, we feel quite persuaded that it will be Mr Tennent's own fault if he does not, ere long, assume the distinguished station in the public estimation to which his eminent talents and acquirements so well entitle him. Some of our critical contemporaries

seem to be of opinion, indeed, that the successful example of a fashionable poet like Lord Byron may be requisite for rendering humourous poetry again popular in this country; but we incline to think, that the public taste in this, as in many other matters, may be left safely enough to come round of itself. From several recent indications, we even half suspect that the popular rage for the strange, the gloomy, and the terrible all fictitious compositions, has already in poetry, and for strong sensation in more than reached its maximum, and that, like the periodical vicissitudes of the Polar Ice, we shall break up at once into humour and gaiety, or gradually melt down into our more uniform and natural taste for correct composition and temperate emotion.

Memoirs of the Life and Writings of Benjamin Franklin, I.L.D. F.R.S. &c. Written by Himself to a late period, and continued to the time of his Death, by his Grandson, WILLIAM TEMPLE FRANKLIN. London, 1818. 4to.

FEW men have risen from so low a beginning to the distinguished rank of the subject of these Memoirs; and none, certainly, ever attained that distinction with cleaner hands and a purer heart. In the strictest sense of the words, Franklin was the author of his own elevation; he owed nothing to riches or to patronage, and had not even the advantage of a liberal education. The talents of dependents,the weakness of rivals,-a happy con currence of fortuitous events,-which so often raise the statesman and the leader of armies to unmerited renown, -have no claims upon his memory. As a citizen, a philosopher, a statesman, he had no common difficulties to surmount, by his own unaided efforts,-yet in all these characters he stands conspicuous; and has now tak en his place among the ornaments and the benefactors of the human race.

The time, we hope, is past when the name of Franklin may have been associated with recollections painful to the people of this country;-it is time they should profit by his illustrious example. The life of such a man ought to convey a useful lesson to almost all ranks. At one time we

behold him upon a level with the mere mechanic; at another only inferior in rank and power to the greatest sovereigns of Europe. To accompany him in this singular and splendid transition, to mark the line of his path, the steps by which he ascended, and the influence which he at last exerted upon the fortunes of his country, must excite an eager desire to know the powers which he possessed, and the means which he employed, as well as the changes which he himself underwent, in his progress towards the elevated region from which, at the close of a long life, he beheld, on all sides, the reward of his labours, in the liberty and prosperity of his country.

The prominent characteristics of Franklin's mind seem to have been soundness of judgment, by which he estimated the objects which he sought to attain at their real value ;-quickness of perception in discovering the means by which these objects were to be attained, and the difficulties that lay in his way removed or avoided ;and stedfastness of purpose, which kept his eye constantly fixed on his aim, from which he was not to be shaken, either by the allurements of pleasure, or the terrors of power. Though he possessed a lively and playful in agination, he seldom wandered into the regions of fancy but to gather materials, not merely to adorn, but to illustrate and enforce the conclusions of his excellent understanding. Desperate as the fortunes of his beloved country sometimes appeared, he seems never to have doubted of her ultimate success; and, white he eminently contributed to that success, he never, in her most promising circumstances, suffered himself to be hurried along with overweening confidence to snatch at the prize within his view, while it was yet beyond his reach. Firm, cautious, active, and indefatigable, he maintained the most enviable self-possession and independence of character, in very arduous situations; and was thus always prepared in the tumult of angry misrepresentation and reproach, and amidst the snares that were artfully laid in his path, to see and to seize the favourable moment when, his enemies being off their guard, he might extract from their errors the means of further promoting the grand object of

all his labours. In the varied course of this singular person's life, he does not appear ever voluntarily to have embarked in any enterprise which he did not conduct to a successful termination, from the time that he formed a literary junto of clerks and tradesmen at Philadelphia, in 1727, until be sealed the independence of his country by the treaty of Paris.

Franklin was a printer; and his press and his types were his chief weapons in every period of his life. Their power was never wielded with greater effect, nor directed to more beneficial purposes, nor crowned with more signal success. He amused, instructed, penetrated, roused, and guided his countrymen, of all ranks, simply in the exercise of his profession; and when printing was his profession no longer, he still retained so just a sense of its importance as to employ it, both for attack and defence, as the most powerful of all engines. No man ever put his hand to so great a variety of work, or wrought for so great a variety of customers. From his press he served out indus try and economy to the lower orders, toleration to the bigot, destruction to the oppressor, and liberty and inde pendence to his country,-while, more daring than Prometheus, he brought down the fire of heaven to play innocuous around him, and, in some measure, subjected to the control of man one of the most appalling phenomena of nature.

Yet there is nothing of romance in the life of Franklin,-no extraordi nary events are brought about by indequate causes. We must, indeed, always keep in view the state of America at the time when Franklin began to distinguish himself, but for that distinction he was, nevertheless, mainly indebted to his own great powers. He was not thrown up to the higher regions by the ebullition of popular frenzy, like many others on similar occasions, whose fall has been still more sudden than their elevation. But he made his approaches towards the temple of Fame with the skill of an experienced commander, who leaves nothing to chance, and always took care to fortify the position he had gained before he ventured to seize a more advanced station. Until the very moment it became necessary to act decisively, he followed rather

than led public opinion, on the great question of American independence. Instead of flattering his countrymen with conceits of their power, and misleading them with declamatory harangues on the abstract rights of man, he was always among the foremost in inculcating respect and submission to the mother country, in spite of the injuries she inflicted on his own, while there remained the least hope of a cordial reconciliation. A friend to peace, both on principle and on prudential calculation, he drew the sword at last with the utmost reluctance, and never ceased to deplore the calamities which it inflicted.

How different, in most respects, the conduct of this great man was from that of those who have borne a part in similar scenes since, is sufficiently obvious. Before he attempted to reform the government of his country, he instituted a strict scrutiny into his own private life; nor did he embark in public affairs, or struggle for the independence of his country, till he had first secured independence to himself by the pursuits of honest industry, and acquired a competent portion of that knowledge which the humble labours of his early years had denied to him.

It is much to be regretted that but a small part of this biography is written by the subject of it; and that this is almost confined to the period of his life which, by many, may be held to possess the least interest. For his share in all those great events which, as proximate causes, roused the Americans to resist the power of Britain, and for the leading part which he took during the progress of the war, in council and in negociating with foreign powers, we are chiefly indebted to the continuation of the Editor. This gentleman, notwithstanding the opportunities which he enjoyed during his residence in France, in an official situation under his grandfather, has not been remarkably successful in giving to his continuation the regular and connected form, and the attractive naiveté of the autobiographical portion. The latter is divided into two parts; the first being a letter addressed to his son, is dated in England in 1771, and brings down the narrative to 1730; and the second, written partly at Passy, near Paris, in 1784, and partly at Phila

VOL. II.

delphia, in 1788, terminates with his arrival in London in 1757, as agent for the Colonies. The former of these was long ago given to the public in a translation from the French. From the year 1757, the narrative is continued by the Editor, Franklin himself, however, appearing, on one or two occasions, of peculiar importance.

Benjamin Franklin, descended from a family who had, for several centurics, possessed a small freehold in Northamptonshire, was born at Boston, in New England, where his father had settled about 1682, on the 17th January 1706. He was at first intended for the church, but, after being only two years at school, his father's circumstances required his services in his own trade of a tallowchandler and soap-boiler; but, disgusted with this employment, he was, at the age of twelve, bound appren tice to one of his brothers, who was a printer. In this situation, he read all the books he could procure,-wrote ballads, and afterwards essays, for his brother's newspaper,-got a habit of disputing like "lawyers, university men, and generally men of all sorts, who have been bred at Edinburgh,' but which he soon laid aside,-took to a vegetable diet, and persisted in it for some years,-quarrelled with his brother, and, at the age of 17, found himself in the streets of Philadelphia, 400 miles from his friends and his home.

His first appearance in this city, in which he afterwards made so conspicuous a figure, was as little prepossessing as his prospects were encouraging. He was in his working dress, his pockets stuffed out with shirts and stockings, and containing besides only a single dollar. With a roll of bread under each arm, and eating a third, he sauntered about the streets for some time, as much a stranger to every one around him as if he had dropt from another planet, and at last strolled into a Quaker's meetinghouse, where he fell fast asleep, the first house he entered and slept in in Philadelphia. While he wrought here with a printer that knew little or nothing of the business himself, he obtained the notice of Sir William Keith, the governor, who urged him to begin business on his own account, was lavish in professions, and sent him back to Boston to obtain the con

sent of his father. His father, however, a prudent man it would seem, disapproved of the project, and Franklin returned to Philadelphia with nothing but many good advices, such as to "avoid lampooning and libelling," to which the old man thought he had too much inclination. The unsolicited patronage of Sir William was not to be thus baffled. He proposed that Franklin should go to England, to purchase the types and other things wanted for his establishment, and promised to furnish him with letters of recommendation and credit for the purpose, but was always so busy that he never had time to write them; and Franklin arrived in London on the 24th December 1724, with a little more knowledge of the world, but 'with prospects not more flattering than when he first entered Philadelphia.

Ralph, whom Pope has commemorated in the Dunciad, accompanied Franklin to England, and for some time they were inseparable companions, lodging together for 3s. 6d. aweek, Franklin sharing his earnings with Ralph, and "rubbing on from hand to mouth." But this intimacy having terminated on grounds not very creditable to either of them, his mind seems to have resumed its natural tone, and his conduct in future to have become singularly circumspect for his age. The first fruits of this change were displayed in an attempt to work a reform among his associates of the chapel, which was not very successful; and soon after he tired of London and the printing business. A merchant who had made the voyage from Philadelphia along with him was now about to return. Franklin, engaged as his clerk, left London, after a residence of about eighteen months, and, with his new master, arrived in Philadelphia in October 1726; but, fortunately for Franklin, this commercial speculation was soon brought to a close by the death of the merchant, and Franklin returned to the profession, by means of which he was to arrive at his future eminence. Having gained friends by his industry, and the propriety of his conduct, he was soon after enabled to begin business on his own account; and, in 1730, when this part of the memoirs terminates, marries a Miss Read, the object of his earliest affections.

Before this period, and he was now only 24 years of age, Franklin had formed a club for mutual improvement, under the name of the Junto, which subsisted for nearly 40 years, and produced no small effect on the literature, morality, and politics of the province, and upon the individual fortunes of its founder; and a subscription library, the parent of all those institutions of the same kind which now abound in America.

We have said so much of this early, and, viewed by itself, least important portion of these memoirs, because we think it exhibits, in the developement of the early character of Franklin, almost all those qualities which, matured by experience, and called into action by the progress of events, not only raised himself to the highest distinction, but at last exerted a powerful influence on the fortunes of his country. He was now in easy circumstances, which were rapidly improving into independence, and having, from this time, embarked in almost every public measure, the principal events of his life have become matter of history.

It was about this time that Franklin conceived the bold and arduous project of arriving at moral perfection. "I wished to live," he says, "without committing any fault at any time, and to conquer all that either natural inclination, custom, or company, might lead me into." He set about this hopeless task, and resumed it at different periods of his life, with all the energy of his character. His cata→ logue of the virtues comprised thirteen different articles, with a precept appended to each; but his plan was to confine his attention to those that stood highest on the list in the first instance, and then to proceed to the others in a very orderly manner. To each virtue he appropriated a page of a book, divided in a tabular form, by seven upright lines for the days of the week, and crossed by thirteen lines for the virtues which were marshalled on the left. The faults of every day were marked in the proper square by a black spot. It turns out, however, that he found himself incorrigible with respect to order ;" and may, therefore, be suspected of sometimes omitting the proper entries in this singular ledger of vice and virtue.. To this artifice he as

cribes the happiest effects; yet it is so difficult, or rather impossible, to fix the boundaries between some of these thirteen virtues, and between each of them and the corresponding vice, that, in most cases, there is reason to fear, great errors would be committed in the records of the most cautious and experienced, especially when it is considered that the decision must be pronounced, in most cases, by a single judge acting, as he unavoidably must act, on partial views, and influenced by the natural bias of his own mind or peculiar situation. Virtue and vice, in truth, are not commodities that can be measured, or weighed, or estimated by figures. Mankind are pretty much agreed only regarding a few cardinal virtues, and even of these the practice occasions a great diversity of opinion. The second virtue in Franklin's list is Silence, followed by this precept, "Speak not but what may benefit others or yourself; avoid trifling conversation ;"a very good rule, no doubt, but who is to settle the questions which it involves? and what virtue is there in that silence which may be the offspring of pride or stupidity? At least the half of all the thirteen are equally indefinite. The coward and the brave may alike claim the virtue of resolution, the miser and the prodigal that of frugality, and so on; and a person the most singularly deficient in virtuous habits, in the opinion of his neighbours, may console himself by a very easy process of self-deception, when he comes to make up the balance sheet in his own private ledger. All such schemes have indeed a tendency to produce this self-deception in ordinary minds. Before a register of this kind can be of any real utility, we must first be able to distinguish what is virtue and vice in every combination of circumstances, with as much promptitude and certainty as we hope to be enabled, by means of a recent invention, to distinguish the precious stones from one another, and from all artificial imitations of them.

The next 25 years of Franklin's life present so great a diversity of scenes of business, philosophy, and politics, as to defy any thing like a bridgment. Even to name all the parts in which he acted during this period, would exceed the bounds of

such an article as this. We find him instructing his townsmen how to keep their streets clean, save their fuel by means of a stove which he invented, and their time and money by the proverbs of Poor Richard; and, at the same time, he was making the most wonderful discoveries in a field the least accessible to science; and while he raised and commanded a military force, made treaties with the Indians, and, as a member of the Legislature, keenly opposed the claim of the proprietors to an exemption from assessinents for the defence o. the country, he was founding hospitals, universities, and meeting-houses for all sects, without being attached to any. Amidst all these labours, he very gravely sat down to the study of languages, beginning with French, Italian, and Spanish, and ending, it would appear, with the Latin, an order of proceeding which is inverted, and, as he thinks, very injudiciously, in the education of youth. The dispute between the Governor and the Assembly rose at last to such a height, that he was appointed by the latter as their agent to go to England and support their cause, where he arrived in 1757. The autobiographical portion of the work terminates at this period; during the rest of the narrative, though Franklin is always the most prominent object, yet he seems to be so different a person from that with whom we have been so delighted hitherto, so enveloped in the mist of political disputes, and the narrative itself is so often broken with letters and speeches, and unreadable State Papers, and the meanness of the great and the follies of the wise, that it is hardly possible to conceive a more striking contrast in biographical composition, than the two grand divisions of these Memoirs exhibit.

From 1757 till 1775, Franklin resided chiefly in England as agent for the Colonies. In that period he visited Scotland, when the degree of Doctor of Laws was conferred on him by the Universities of St Andrews and Edinburgh. In 1766 he travelled in Holland and Germany, and in 1769 visited Paris, and was everywhere received with the greatest respect, his Letters on Electricity having rendered his name famous throughout all Europe. In 1775 he returned to America. About the end of 1776 he made his fourth