the hands of several different workmen successively (and in some cases several times returned, at intervals more or less remote, to the hands of the same workman), each performing upon them every time some single and simple operation by machinery or by hand until they were completed. Thus Mr. Whitney reduced a complex business, embracing many ramifications, almost to a mere succession of simple processes, and was thereby enabled to make a division of the labor among his workmen, on a principle that was not only more extensive, but also more philosophical than that pursued in the English method."

The muskets made by this process were not only cheaper, but better than any others in the market. So thoroughly satisfied was the government on this point, that they cheerfully entered into a second contract on the completion of the first. Mr. Whitney was not without opposition. Many of the old established gun-makers, who pursued the old routine, and supposed it impossible for any thing better to be contrived, competed with him, but brains told against capital in this instance, and Whitney enjoyed a well-earned reputation and put money in his purse.

In the year 1812 Mr. Whitney made application to Congress for a renewal of his patent for the cotton-gin. In a temperate and admirably-written memorial, he put forward all his claims to this slight consideration. It was of no avail. The very men who had been most benefited by the invention were those who opposed the inventor most virulently. They were successful; the extension was refused, and those who had so long robbed him illegally now did it with the protection of the law. In a letter to Mr. Fulton on this subject, Whitney says, "The difficulties with which I have had to contend have originated principally in the want of a disposition in mankind to do justice. My invention was new, and distinct from every other; it stood alone; it was not interwoven with any thing before known; and it can seldom happen that an invention or improvement is so strongly marked, and can be so clearly and specifically identified; and I have always believed that I should have had no difficulty in causing my rights to be respected, if it had been less valuable, and been used only by a small portion of the community. But the use of this machine being immensely profitable to almost every planter in the cotton districts, all were interested in trespassing upon the patent-right, and each kept the other in countenance. Demagogues made themselves popular by misrepresentation and unfounded

clamors, both against the right, and against the law made for its protection. Hence there arose associations and combinations to oppose both. At one time, but few men in Georgia dared to come into court and testify to the most simple facts within their knowledge relative to the use of the machine. In one instance I had great difficulty in proving that the machine had been used in Georgia, although, at the same moment, there were three separate sets of this machinery in motion within fifty yards of the building in which the court sat, and all so near that the rattling of the wheels was distinctly heard on the steps of the court-house.”

Fortunately, his worldly prosperity did not now depend upon the uncertain privileges of letters patent and state rights. The new enterprise in which he was embarked proved, as we have hinted, eminently lucrative, and pointed out a clear road to afflu

ence.

His circumstances now being comparatively easy, he began to yearn for the social comforts of home-for the tranquil joys which nestle around the family hearth-for the solace, consolation, and gentle ministrations of a wife. In January of 1817 he gratified this ardent and amiable desire, and was wedded to Miss Henrietta F. Edwards, the youngest daughter of the Hon. Pierrepont Edwards, of the District Court of the State of Connecticut. His happiness was subsequently rendered complete by the addition of a son and three daughters to his domestic circle. Every thing seemed to promise a brilliant and gorgeous decline to a life too much spent in toil and trouble. But it was not to be. At the moment when the cup of happiness appeared to be brimming at his lips, it was dashed to the ground by the treacherous approaches of the fell destroyer. Disease in an aggravated and tedious form attacked him. He struggled against it with his accustomed firmness, but King Death's patent rights can not be set aside. After a long and painful illness, he died on the 8th of January, 1825.

His death occasioned a sensation of profound sadness to a large community, who knew and respected him not only for the material good he had done his country, but for the amiable qualities of his heart and mind. The citizens of New Haven paid every respect to the memory of the deceased, and caused a eulogy to be pronounced over his remains by President Day, of Yale College. A neat tomb has been erected over his grave, fashioned after the model of that of Scipio at Rome. It marks a spot that should be honored by every American who is jealous of his country's glory.

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.

THE life of this extraordinary man presents a solid instance of high eminence and national esteem achieved by the conscientious and timely nurture and exercise of temperate and healthy faculties. In the picture of his life there is nothing that attracts us by its glare and tinseled brilliancy. The coloring, if any thing, is cold and sombre; but there is clearness in the outline, and never-failing boldness and vigor in the filling up. We are astonished at the absence of every thing like mere effort for show. He never seems to say to himself, "This will look well;" but rather, "This is correct, and therefore beautiful." Biographers have experienced difficulty in doing full justice to the life of Franklin for the reason that he presents so many points of excellence, all glowing with quiet splendor. By one he is considered remarkable principally for his philosophical experiments and discoveries; by another, for his ingenuity and devotion as a diplomat; by a third, for his clear-headed organization of philanthropic societies; by a fourth, for his patriotism, and so on. Each separate advocate finds abundant materials for eulogizing the hero, but each and all

do the hero an injustice, for it was not the possession of a single faculty that made Franklin remarkable, but the nice adjustment of many. Even Franklin himself fails to do justice to his life. His Autobiography is simply the story of a prudent man, who exalts the virtues generally, and adds economy and money-making to the list because he practices them. If our knowledge of Franklin were confined simply to this record, it would be very imperfect and unsatisfactory.

It must not be supposed that Franklin's character is one of such extreme complexity that it can not be understood by ordinary intelligences. On the contrary, its utter simplicity is what is apt to confuse; for a virtuous character presents more admirable phases than any other; and, in dwelling on any individual phase, we are likely to do injustice to the others. Franklin had what is called by phrenologists a well-balanced organization. Every faculty was largely formed and assiduously cultivated. He knew exactly his own strength, and, consequently, never failed of success in what he undertook. He armed himself with right— might he possessed-and never laid it down until he had gained the victory. His life is remarkable for two things, great ambition and great virtue. He determined to be famous and to be good. He succeeded in both.

Benjamin Franklin was the fifteenth child of a family of seventeen, and was born in Boston on the 17th January, 1706. His father, an English Nonconformist, emigrated to New England about the year 1682, for the sake of enjoying the free exercise of his religion. He was a tallow-chandler and soap-boiler by profession, and a man of considerable force of character. At eight years of age young Benjamin was put to the grammar-school, but continued there for a very brief period. It was his father's wish to devote him to the service of the Church; but, burdened with a numerous family, he was unable to bear the additional expenses of a fitting education for that important sphere, and therefore took him from the grammar-school, and gave him a commercial education in a private establishment kept by Mr. George Brownwell. At ten years of age he was able to help his father in the business of cutting wicks, filling moulds, etc., but, disliking the occupation, conceived the idea, common to all dissatisfied youth, of going to sea. In order to divert his mind from this project, his father took him round to various manufactories and work

shops, in order that he might see the operations of the workmen, and thus fix on some profession that would be agreeable to his taste. The elder Franklin determined in favor of the cutler's trade, and endeavored to place Benjamin with a member of that craft; but the latter demanded too large a fee, and he was taken home again, with a gloomy prospect of the candle and chandlery business. At length it was resolved that Benjamin (who from his earliest days had displayed a strong bookish inclination) should be apprenticed to his brother James, a printer, who had just established himself in business (1717). According to the absurd custom of that day, he was bound for no less a period than nine years—that is to say, until he was twenty-one years of age. In a little time he made great progress in the business, and became a useful hand to his brother. What attached him most to the business was the additional facility with which he could now obtain books for reading. With these he would delight himself on every possible opportunity, often sitting up in his chamber the greater part of the night, in order that he might punctually return the book he had borrowed. In course of time, the activity of his mind began to display itself in various ways, such as discussing ethical topics with his companions, and building up verses on the popular events of the day. His father watched his progress with calm interest, and freely criticised what attempts at literary productions fell in his way, and, what was more extraordinary, even succeeded in convincing his son that they were not remarkable for elegance of expression, method, or perspicuity. To remedy these defects, the young man procured an odd volume of the Spectator, and endeavored to imitate the Addisonian style of writing. In order to increase his stock of words, he turned some of the articles into verse, and after a time, when he had pretty well forgotten the prose, turned them back again. The time he allotted for writing exercises and for reading was at night, or before work began in the morning, or on Sunday.

When about sixteen years of age he became a convert to the vegetarian doctrine, and refused to eat the flesh of any animal that had been slaughtered for food. He was a little annoyed by the members of his brother's family, with whom he boarded, on account of this sudden and somewhat remarkable conversion, and therefore determined to board himself. He proposed it to his brother, and agreed that, if the latter would give him weekly half