AMERICAN WRITERS: No. IV. en FARCES. About a dozen or twenty sober, childish, or disagreeable tertainments" have been produced, in the United States of America-by the natives-within the memory of man, we believe under this title; but, in almost every case, with such a serious, reasonable, or cautious, untimely air, that, when they came to be perform ed, people-who were not in the secret-nor concerned in any way, with, or for, the piece,-knew not whether to laugh or cry. The truth is, that our Transatlantic brethren-fruitful, as they certainly are, in a sort of stubborn oddity a kind of unmalleable humour; abounding, as they certainly do, in what may be called respectable absurdities have nothing outrageous in their nature; little or no raw material, of their own, for generous, broad, rich caricature; no humour, worth working up; no delicious drollery; little or nothing, in themselves, or their habits, for good-natured misrepresentation. The farces, in America, therefore, without one exception, are made, by English workmen, of English-or British material-and performed, in almost every case, by Eng lishmen. Our friends, over the water, in this part of their practice, there fore, not only steal our brooms ready made but people to use them-which we take to be a great "improvement," as they would call it, of Joe Millar. The French pieces, which appear in America, are always in our translations, after they have been adopted here.See DRAMA, Vol. XVI. p. 567. FARMER-DRA young physician, who wrote some five or six years ago-some five or six-(we mean to be very bitter, now, of course-very) -some five or six downright, Philadelphia poems. Nevertheless-in mercy-that we may not break his heart, altogether-drive him stark, staring mad- -we must allow him a word or two of comfort, after this-a spoonful of syrup-a lump of sugarto quiet him. He has, really, some good stuff, in his nature some ore, worth coining: -a little (the stronger, perhaps, for being so little) of that fiery, strange . element-the true elixir vita-which, in its rectified state, becomes the elixir of immortality-" that is to say " poetry.-We would advise him to try once more; give the public another dose; and, if they won't have it with out-pinch their noses for them, till they are glad enough to swallow it→→→→ critics or not. The poetical ore, by the way, in Dr F. may be estimated-safely-thus 6 parts fire: 2 earth: 1 lead: 1 pure gold. Yes-let him try again. Let him sink a shaft-not himself-in some other place-not in Philadelphia-that Quaker" ATHENS." It is too low and flat for him, there he will find little or nothing but cold water-dirty water, perhaps go as deep as he may, into that land of accretion; where there is nothing primitive, but a few Quakers-nothing solid, or heavy, but a few purses, and a few heads-nothing rich or valuable, under the surface; that alluvial district, where everything but wreck and rubbish, driftwood, or animal remains-like those of the Port-Folio-and some other antedilu vian shell-fish-are secondary. Let him do this, in some other place among the mountains; work hard, in the granite region; build a better furnace; begin altogether anew; sweat, like a good fellow, over the anvil shut his eyes to everything else neither sleep nor doze, while the fire is in blast. If he follow our advice, we will answer for his "turning out a piece of workmanship, after all, of which his country may be proud. FESSENDEN DR: (we believe.)-A "has been" of "American literature" --so called: author of a poem or two -so called: and, among others, which had a prodigious run, for a time, of "Terrible Tractoration;" a parcel of stuff, in poor doggrel, about Perkins, the man, who, some twenty-five years, ago, more or less, cured people of almost everything-head-ache-lameness,-cash,-rheumatism,-fever,— common sense-on both sides of the water, with two small pieces of metal, which went by the name of " metallic points," or "tractors." The wise men of America, by the way, were quite as foolish, credulous, and absurd, as ours. They made up their full quota of believers: like the French, while the wonders of animal magnetism were the "go:" like ourselves, now that craniology, etc. etc. are the creed of the orthodox. hundred others might have done; each with more genius; more fervour; more eloquence; and more brilliancy. He was born of English parents, in Boston, Massachusetts, New England, about 1706, we believe. When a lad, he ran away to Philadelphia. After a long course of self-denial, hardship, and wearying disappointment, which nothing but his frugal, temperate, cou rageous good sense carried him through, he came to be-successively-a journeyman printer, (or pressman, rather, on account of his great bodily strength,) Dr F. is a good prose writer; but about as much of a poet, as-as-now for it!-as the multiplication table, or Jeremy Bentham's "own self." He is the editor of some village newspaper, now; the prose part of which, is really worth reading; but his poetry -God forgive us for calling any dog-in a London printing-office ;*-edigrel, poetry-although "five lines "five lines tor and publisher, at home, in Philawere a day's work with him "-is- delphia, of many papers, which had a prodigious influence on the temper of his countrymen ;-agent, for certain of the colonies, to this government;—an author of celebrity;-a philosopher, whose reputation has gone over the whole of the learned world-continually increasing, as it went ;-a very able negotiator; a statesman ;-a minister plenipotentiary to France, of whose king he obtained, while the Bourbons were in their glory-by his great moderation, wisdom, and republican address, a treaty, which enabled our thirteen colonies of North America to laugh all the power of Great Britain, year after year, to scorn ;-yesand all these things, did Benjamin Franklin, by virtue alone, of his good FRANKLIN-DR BENJAMIN. Of this extraordinary man, we could say much, that would be new to his countrymen; but, our limits will not permit of our doing it, worthily, now. We shall confine ourselves, therefore, to a few remarks; one or two short anecdotes; and a faithful account, of his philosophical pretensions. His His Life, partly written by himself, is, or should be, in the hands of every young person. It is a plain, homely narrative; remarkable for candour, sincerity, and good common sense. style is clear, strong, and simple. The His Philosophical, Moral, Political, and Humorous Essays, are pretty well known. A word or two, however, concerning each class-by way of correcting certain errors, which are continually repeated. The leading property of Dr Franklin's mind-great as it was-the faculty, which made him remarkable, and set him apart from other men; the generator, in truth, of all his power-was good sense-only plain, good sense-nothing more. He was not a man of genius; there was no brilliancy about him; little or no fervour; nothing like poetry, or eloquence and yet-by the sole, untiring, continual operation of this humble, unpretending quality of the mind; he came to do more, in the world of science; more, in council; more, in the cabinets of Europe, more, in the revolution of empires, (uneducated or self-educated, as he was,) than five common sense. He died, in 1790, "full of years, and full of honours;" the pride and glory of that empire, the very foundations of which, he had assisted in laying;-the very corner-stone of which, he had helped in to the appointed place, with his own powerful hands. He was one of the few-the priesthood of liberty-that stood up, undismayed, unmoved, while the ark of their salvation thundered, and shook, and lightened in their faces ;-putting all of them, their venerable hands upon it, nevertheless; and abiding the issue, while the "DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE" went forth, like the noise of trumpets, to the four corners of the earth. He lived, until he heard a warlike flourish echoing through all the great solitudes of America-the roar of battle, on every side of him—all The very press, at which he worked, is now in the possession of Messrs Cox and Baylis GREAT QUEEN'S STREET, LINCOLN'S-INN-FIELDS-near the place where Dr F. worked. VOL. XVII. G Europe in commotion-her over-peopled empires riotous with a new spirit his country quietly taking her place among the nations. What more could he wish?-Nothing. It was time to give up the ghost. He was a great-and, of course-a good man. We have but few things to lay, seriously, to his charge-very few: and, after all, when we look about us; recollecting, as we do, the great good which he has done, everywhere; the little mischief that he has donethe less than little, that he ever meditated, anywhere-in all his life-to the cause of humanity-we have no heart -we confess it-again to speak unkindly of him. The evil that Benja min Franklin did, in the whole of his fourscore years-and upward of life -was, in comparison with his good works, but as dust in the balance. In his personal appearance, a few years before his death, he was very much like Jeremy Bentham, as he is, now. In his moral temperament, he was altogether one of the old-fashioned Yankees or New Englanders-for they only are Yankees : one of that peculiar people, who are somewhat over zealous of good works. Like his countrymen, he was cool, keen, firm, cautious, and benevolent: a man of few words; yet able, nevertheless, with a part of those few-hardly more than a dozen, or twenty, at one time-to overthrow all opposition-quiet a long debate-shame the talkative, and silence the powerful-in the state assembly, of which he was a member. By nature, perhaps, like George Washington, whose character, by the way, is greatly misunderstood, he was a man of strong passions, which, after many years, by continual guardianship, trial, and severe discipline, he had brought entirely under his control. This, we say positively, was the character of Washington: this, we believe to have been the character of Franklin. We happen to know something of the Doctor's determination, however, in two cases; both growing out of the same event, where the natural temper of the man broke out-blazed up, like a smothered fire-became visible, as it were, all at once, in spite of himself. Some time in the year 1767, or 8, he was in this country, acting as agent for some of our Transatlantic possessions. The troubles had already begun, there. One day, he went before the Privy Council, as agent, with a petition from the assembly of Massachusetts; or, more carefully speaking-one day, when a petition from the provincial assembly of Massachusetts-Bay, already presented by him, was taken up. He was treated with great indignity—insulted-grossly abused, by the Solicitor General, Wedderbourne. He bore it, without any sign of emotion. All eyes were upon him. No change, or shadow of change, went over his face. His friends were amazed at his forbearance. They wondered at his equanimity-they were almost ready to reproach him for it. Such untimely selfcommand could only proceed from indifference to the great cause-or-so they thought-from a strange moral insensibility. On his way from the place of humiliation, they gathered about him. He stopped he stood still-his manner-look-voice-were those of a man, who has quietly concentrated every thought, every hope, under heaven-all his energies-upon a single point. "HIS MASTER SHALL PAY FOR IT," said he, and passed on. The other circumstance grew out of the same affair. As a mark of especial consideration, for the Privy Council, the Doctor appeared before them, in a superb dress, after the court fashion of the time. He wore it bravely-he looked uncommonly well in it. Finding, however, that his courtly garb, thus chosen, thus worn, had been of no avail, as a refuge or shelter, to him; that, on the contrary, it had only made him a better mark, and exasperated his adversary; that, worse than all, his considerate loyalty had been misunderstood, for a piece of dirty adulation; or, worse yet,-for a piece of wretched foppery he went, on leaving the Council, straightway home; threw the dress aside; and, from that hour, never wore it again, till the day, on which he went, with full power, into the court of the Bourbons, to sign the treaty between France and America the UNITED STATES OF AMERICA! What must have been his feelings !→→ That paper gave the death-blow to British dominion over the western world. It was done-the threat was accomplished: Franklin was at peace with himself: the majesty of Great Britain had paid-bitterly paid, for the insolence of the Solicitor General. It was while preparing himself, on this very occasion, for his appearance at Versailles, among the pride and flower of the French nobility, that a little circumstance occurred, which the Doctor was fond of relating, all his life, as finely characteristic of the French temper-full of resource-full of apology, such as it is never to be taken by surprise. He had ordered a fashionable courtwig to be made for the occasion; desiring Monsieur le Perruquier, whatever else he did (for the Doctor had already heard something of these encumbrances)-whatever else to make it large enough. The wig was brought home, at a very late hour: nothing could be more stately, "superb," or "magnificent."-But when he came to try it on, the Doctor-otherwise the patient-found it insupportably tight. He complained: Monsieur le Perruquier bowed. He remonstrated-grew red in the face-the Perruquier bowed again." It is too small, sir-too small entirely," said Franklin-"altogether too small, sir."- Après tout," answered Monsieur le Perruquier, cutting a light pigeon-wing before the Doctor" Apres tout, Monsieur, ce n'est pas la perruque, qui est trop petite; c'est la tete, qui est trop grosse. -The Frenchman, with all his politeness, however, did not say, or think of saying c'est la tete, qui est trop grande. If he had, perhaps the Doctor would have borne the head-ache more quietly. But enough. Turn we now to his PHILOSOPHICAL ESSAYS. These are plain, downright, sensible papers, wherein all the world may see, that nothing is done for display; nothing for effect; nothing, without a serious consideration. The Doctor lays down, throughout, no proposition-strongly -positively-unless where he is justified by his own repeated, personal experience. He takes nothing for granted; he simply records the progress of his own experiments; putting his que ries modestly-never flying off into hypothesis and reserving his conjectures, for their proper place-a memorandum-book. It is gratifying to follow such a man; to observe his holy caution-his awful regard for truth, whatever may come of it-his faculty of explanation, which, half a century ago, when most of the subjects, upon which he wrote, were little understood, made whatever he thought as intelligible to other men, as if they themselves had also thought it. In electricity, his bold, adventurous course of experiment, cannot be overpraised. It was unspeakably daring— sublime. It led, in every part of the globe, to fearless inquiry; a more intrepid zeal; a more peremptory mode of interrogating the dangerous element:-it led, in short, everywhere, to noble adventures; brave experiments; rational doctrines; useful discoveries:-and, after seventy years of jealous, continual examination, has obtained, except in a few particulars, for his theory that of the self-educated American-a decided, open, almost universal preference among the philosophers of Europe. To Franklin we owe the knowledge, that electricity and lightning are similar. He proved it; shewed others how to prove it; and formed, without assistance, thereupon a scientific the ory, which continues, of itself, to explain the principal phenomena of thunderstorms-lightning-and electricity. It had been suspected, before, by the Abbe Nolet; but, in throwing out his conjecture, the Abbe, himself, attached no value to it; and, without a question, had no idea of any method, by which the truth of it could be shewn. It was only one of those accidental vague thoughts, continually to be met with in the works of brilliant, flighty men, for whom the world are claim ing the honour of all our discoveries -all our inventions-all our improvements-one after the other, as fast as they appear as if to imagine were the same as to invent, or make:as if to dream were to demonstrate: -as if to talk, without knowing why, of an idle, strange possibility, were to establish a great, useful truth :-as if a poet were a mathematician :-as if á writer, who may have said a century ago, on seeing the top of a tea-kettle forced off, or a coffee-pot nose explode in the fire that, after a time, the smoke of water might be turned, perhaps, to account were to have the credit, now, of our great steam discoveries-nay, as if we ourselves, who, in our soothsaying capacity, now whisper, that, perhaps, the time will come, when star-light will be for sale in the jewellery-shops; put up, in lumps of crystal, for the rich-in plebeian glass, for the poor when there will be turn pikes over the sea: when butterfly dust will be in common use among the miniature painters: when the bet ter half, in truth, of all mankind, will be for ever on the wing-each in her airs, literally, all the day long, in good weather-ostrich plumage at her back, instead of her head-more flighty than ever-not merely coquetting, but angelicising with men-floating and flying literally; not figuratively:-when -but we pass over the elixir of lifethe philosopher-stone-perpetual motion-the art of navigating the skies in soap or silk bubbles:-As if wE, by reason of two or three audacious conjectures, were to have the credit hereafter, of all the discoveries that may be made in the matters or things, whereabout we have been gossipping. To Franklin we owe the first idea of the plus and minus; or, in other words, of the positive STATE of electricity, and of the negative. M. Du Faye had previously seen a type, or shadow of the truth, in the two KINDS of electricity, which he called vitreous and resinous: but, instead of pursuing the inquiry, or urging others to pursue it, he threw by his original idea, as erroneous. It fell into neglect. Franklin took it up anew, pursued it; obtained a result, which enabled him to solve a multitude of problems-that of the Leyden jar, among others-which had puzzled, for a long time, all the schools of Europe. This discovery, by the way, is claimed for Dr Watson. -A single fact will shew, with what propriety. The paper of Doctor Franklin is dated July 11, 1747: that of Dr Watson, Jan. 21, 1748. To Franklin, moreover, do we owe the consummation of proof respecting the sameness of electricity and lightning. He had previously discovered (what has been claimed for T. Hopkinson; but upon what grounds we do not know) the power of points upon electric matter. The first experiment, on Dr Franklin's plan, was made, in 1752, at Marley, near Paris, under the direction of M. D'Alibard. About a month after this, Franklin obtained a like result, in Philadelphia, by using , a kite. So, too, the discovery of ascending thunder has been claimed for the Abbe Bertholon, whose paper was published in 1776. Franklin's letter declaring the fact, and accounting for it, is dated in September, 1753. After this, followed a series of minor discoveries; experiments; and explanations of electrical phenomena; for most of which Dr Franklin has now full credit over Europe; and if he had not, here is no place—this is no time-for doing justice to all parties. Pass we on, therefore, to his POLITICAL ESSAYS; merely remarking, by the way, that while he was ransacking the skies; meddling with government; plucking down, literally, the thunders of both upon his head; he found leisure, with a few hints, to get up a set of musical glasses: to invent a stove, now in general use throughout America: to construct his lightning rods: give laws for swimming, which are inestimable; establish a plan for libraries, which has been followed everywhere:-" &c. &c. &c." The political papers of Dr Franklin are worthy of great praise. They are profound, comprehensive, statesmanlike. He saw, with a clear eye, the policy of nations; foretold, with surprising accuracy, certain great political changes, which took, and are taking place. By his "Canada pamphlet,' he mainly contributed, while the elder Pitt was minister, to provoke that magnificent, bold enterprize, which ended in the complete, and perpetual overthrow of the French power, throughout all North America. We have good reason to believe that he had a share in Paine's powerful book," The Rights of Man." He had, also, the hardihood, in 1785, when the whole coast of his country, from Georgia to Maine, was ready to swarm out with privateers, at a day's notice, in case of war; when the United States of America had no navy; and, of course, no means of annoyance but privateersto come out openly-denounce privateering; and call it, in so many words, little better than piracy. A word of this, while passing.—Mr Munroe, and other leading political men of the United States, have begun to talk the same language-wherefore, a hint or two for them, before it is too late. Make war upon private property anywhere, at sea, or on shore; and private property will immediately become a species of public property. It will belong no more to individuals-but, altogether, to communities. Every capture will be the loss of some insurance company. The loss, therefore, will |