nies in 1754; and of a variety of other tracts on the provincial politics of that day. All these are worth preserving, both as monuments of Dr. Franklin's talents and activity, and as affording, in many places, very excellent models of strong reasoning and popular eloquence: but the interest of the subjects is now completely gone by; and the few specimens of general reasoning which we meet with serve only to increase our regret, that the talents of the author should have been wasted on such perishable materials. There is not much written on the subject of the dispute with the colonies; and most of his papers on that subject are already well known to the public. His examination before the house of commons, in 1766, affords a striking proof of the extent of his information, the clearness and force of his extempore composition, and the steadiness and self-possession, which enabled him to display these qualities with so much effect upon such an occasion. His letters before the commencement of hostilities are full of grief and anxiety; but, no sooner did matters come to extremities, than he appears to have assumed a certain keen and confident cheerfulness, not unmixed with a seasoning of asperity, and more vindictiveness of spirit than perhaps became a philosopher. The letters which passed between Dr. Franklin and lord Howe, when his lordship arrived off the American coast with what were called the pacificatory proposals, in 1776, show not only the consideration in which the former was held by the noble commissioner, but contain a very striking and pathetic statement of the consequences to be dreaded from the perseverance of Great Britain in her schemes of compulsion. None of Dr. Franklin's political writings, during the nine years that he resided as ambassador at the court of France, have yet been made public. Some of them must be highly interesting. As to the merits of Franklin as a political economist, he is perfectly sound on many important and practical points; on the corn-trade, and the theory of money, for instance; and also on the more general doctrines, as to the freedom of commerce, and the principle of population. In the more elementary and abstract parts of the science, however, his views seem to have been less just and luminous. He is not very consistent or profound, in what he says of the effects of luxury ; and seems to have gone headlong into the radical error of the economistes, when he maintains, that all that is done by manufacture is to embody the value of the manufacturer's subsistence in his work, and that agriculture is the only source from which a real increase of wealth can be derived. Another favourite position is, that all commerce is cheating, where a commodity, produced by a certain quantity of labour, is exchanged for another, on which more labour has been expended; and that the only fair price of any thing, is some other thing requiring the same exertion to bring it to market. This is evidently a very narrow and erroneous view of the nature of commerce. The fair price to the purchaser is, whatever he deliberately chuses to give, rather than go without the commodity; it is no matter to him, whether the seller bestowed much or little labour upon it, or whether it came into his possession without any labour at all; whether it be a diamond, which he picked up, or a picture, at which they had been working for years. The commodity is not valued by the purchaser on account of the labour which is supposed to be embodied in it, but solely on account of certain qualities, which he finds convenient or agreeable; he compares the convenience and delight which he expects to derive from this object, with the convenience and delight which is affordby the things asked in exchange for it; and if he find the former preponderate, he consents to the ex change, and makes a beneficial bar- As a writer on morality and general literature, the merits of Franklin cannot be estimated properly, without taking into consideration the peculiarities in his early history and situation. He never had the benefit of any academical instruction, nor of the society of men of letters; his style was formed entirely by his own judgment and occasional reading; and most of his moral pieces were written while he was a tradesman, addressing himself to the tradesmen of his native city. We cannot expect, therefore, either that he should write with extraordinary elegance or grace; or that he should treat of the accomplishments, follies, and occupations of polite life.He had no great occasion, as a moralist, to expose the guilt and the folly of gaming or seduction; or to point a poignant and playful ridicule against the lighter immoralities of fashionable life. To the mechanics and traders of Boston and Philadelphia, such warnings were altogether unnecessary; and he endeavoured, therefore, with more appropriate eloquence, to impress on them the importance of industry, sobriety, and economy, and to direct their wise and humble ambition to the attainment of useful knowledge and honourable independence. That morality, after all, is certainly the most valuable, which is adapted to the circumstances of the greater part of mankind; and that eloquence is the most meritorious, that is calculated to convince and persuade the multitude to virtue.Nothing can be more perfectly and beautifully adapted to its object, than most of Dr. Franklin's compositions of this sort. The tone of familiarity, of good will, and homely jocularity; the plain and pointed illustrations; the short sentences, made up of short words; and the strong sense, clear information, and obvious conviction of the author himself, make most of his moral exhortations perfect models of popular eloquence; and afford the finest specimens of a style which has been but too little cultivated in a country, which numbers, perhaps, more than 100,000, readers among its tradesmen and artificers. In writings which possess such solid and unusual merit, it is of no great consequence that the fastidious eye of a critic can discover many blemishes. There is a good deal of vulgarity in the practical writings of Franklin; and more vulgarity than was necessary for the object he had in view. There is something childish, too, in some of his attempts at pleasantry: his story of the Whis tle, and his Parisian letter, announcing the discovery that the sun gives light as soon as he rises, are instances of this. The Soliloquy of an Ephemeris, however, is much better; and both that, and the Dialogue with the Gout, are executed with the lightness and spirit of genuine French compositions. The Speech in the Divan of Algiers, composed as a parody on those of the defenders of the slave-trade, and the scriptural parable against persecution, are inimitable; they have all the point and facility of the fine pleasantries of Swift and Arbuthnot, with something more of directness and apparent sincerity. The style of his letters, in general, is excellent. They are chiefly remarkable for great simplicity of language, admirable good sense and ingenuity, and an amiable and inoffensive cheerfulness, that is never overclouded or eclipsed. There is something extremely amiable in old age, when thus exhibited, as in Franklin's letters, without querulousness, discontent, or impatience, and free, at the same time, from any affected or unbecoming levity. There must be many more of his letters in existence, than have yet been given to the public; and, from the tone and tenor of those which already appeared, we are satisfied that they would be read with general avidity and improvement*. His account of his own life, down to the year 1730, has been in the hands of the public since 1790. It is written with great simplicity and liveliness, though it contains too many trifling details and anecdotes of obscure individuals. It affords a striking example of the irresistible force with which talents and industry bear upwards in society, as well as an impressive illustration of the substantial wisdom and good policy of invarible integrity and candour. It would be very useful reading for I wish the descendants of Dr. Franklin, in America, would take this hint. They have treasures of this sort of which a profitable use might be made.-E. all young persons of unsteady principle, who have their fortunes to make or to mend in the world. On the whole, the life and writings of Dr. Franklin afford a striking illustration of the incalculable value of a sound and well directed understanding, and of the comparative uselessness of learning and laborious accomplishments. Without the slightest pretensions to the character of a scholar or a man of science, he has extended the bounds of human knowledge on a variety of subjects, which scholars and men of science had previously investigated without success; and has only been found deficient in those studies which the learned have generally turned from in disdain. Respect is due to scholarship and science; but the value of these instruments is apt to be overrated by their possessors; and it is a wholesome mortification, to show them that the work may be done without them. For the Literary Magazine. IDEAL MISERIES. WHILE I acknowledge with gratitude the very great obligations we owe to divines and philosophers, for the valuable precepts they have laid down, to guard us against those vices which are followed by great calamities, and for the no less important consolation they afford us against such evils as we can neither foresee nor prevent, I regret much that they have narrowed their labours by addressing themselves to mankind in general. This may seem an extraordinary objection, but it will appear very justifiable, when we consider that the advice given to all is seldom accepted by any, and that it is individual application only which can give it effect. These sages of ancient and modern time deserve great praise for cheering the hearts of men in the hour of anxiety, for affording consolation in distress, and for suggesting a lively hope even on the brink of despair. But these are things in which man, as man only, is concerned. It is much, but it is not all; they have fallen short, in handing down no advice, no precepts, no comfort, adapted to the taste of men of fashion, women of ton, and persons of distinction; nor have they been more attentive to the distresses which befal us as members of the corporation, as chairmen of clubs, and as guests at a table. Now these and other distresses of a like kind, though usually set down among the little things which are, or ought to be, beneath our attention, are really among the greatest misfortunes of life: first, because they are perpetually recurring, and add, therefore, to the general mass of unhappiness; and, secondly, because not one of those philosophers and divines, who have made the afflictions of human life their study, have condescended to say one word about them, or have mentioned them with indifference and contempt. All this appears to me very extraordinary, and to detract much from the utility of their labours. If we will set about analyzing and decompounding our respective portions of happiness and unhappiness, we shall find that each is made up of an infinite series of little things. Little things, then, being great to little men, ought not to be beneath the attention of those who assume the chair of authority, direct our judgment, prescribe our sentiments, and regulate our hopes and fears. These have given us admirable counsel against excessive grief for the loss of relatives, and the loss of fortune: but are these the only losses that require a healing balm? How many are every night made miserable in this metropolis by the loss of an odd trick! How many have their sensibility deeply wounded by the death of a parrot! How many are cut to the heart to reflect that the ball they missed yesterday will no more return; or that the brilliant assemblage of persons of fashion, which they were prevented from joining, may never meet again!Nay, with all due respect to philosophers be it spoken, is the misplacing of a cane, umbrella, or a pair of gloves, no misfortune? Yet for these evils we have no remedy. What avails it to fortify the mind against covetousness, against ambition, against the fears of death, when amid our speculations on such abstract and distant subjects, a visit remains unreturned, or a mantuamaker has forgotten her orders? We may bear up against the pangs of despised love, and the oppressor's wrongs, but it requires no small share of philosophy to behold the china in ruins, and the canary-bird a prey to the undistinguishing ferocity of a cat. How many have we seen bury a wife, in all the decent manliness of grief, who have been tortured almost to madness when they beheld the meat spoiled, the butter rancid, or the pie overbaked! How many, who can submit with patience to the disorders attendant on a late period of life, are mere children in philosophy, should they come late into the theatre, their favourite song past, and tlìeir places taken. He, therefore, who would prescribe for such calamities, would be a general benefactor. It would require, however, that he should not merely possess the austerity of an ancient philosopher; that he should be able to harangue like Socrates, or epistolize like Seneca: he should be a man of the world, and apply his remedies where the disorder was contracted. In my last excursion to the watering places, I had many melancholy instances of the great need the visitors of those places stand in for such a philosopher. Of what avail would it be to preach there about the common and vulgar asperities of human life, and omit the more important and trying circumstances of a cruel rain, a perverse raffle, and. a morbid ennui? to have a party of pleasure broke up just as the set is made up; to be within one of the lucky number; and to be tormented, perhaps for a day, with dont-knowhowishness? these, indeed, are calamities; they wring the heart, they put the temper to a severe trial, spoil the appetite, cover the countenance with a deadly pale, and drive sleep from the eyes, and slumber from the eye-lids. Must they not, therefore, be greatly aggravated, when no assistance is at hand, no soothing consolation nigh, nor friend to sympathize, no kindred bosom to share the grief with? Such are a few of the calamities of human life, for which I can find no sources of consolation among divines and philosophers. Whether they thought such matters too much above, or too much beneath their concern, I know not; but certain it is, all our solamina miseris are very deficient in such important mat. ters. I have already hinted that the frequency of these calamities renders aid more necessary than all our other systems of philosophy. A man cannot lose above two or three affectionate wives in his whole life; but he may lose a good dinner every week; and a lady may weep over the grave of twenty lap-dogs, before she has an opportunity to pay the last duties of friendship to a muchlamented husband. For the Literary Magazine. ON THE INDEPENDENCE OF SPA NISH AMERICA. WOULD the emancipation of the Spanish colonies be favourable to their future progress and improvement? Would it enable them to redress the grievances under which they at present labour? If assisted to acquire, are they strong enough to maintain, their independence? The interest excited at this moment by the expedition of Miranda, seems to call for some observations on these topics. The greatest defect in the Spanish colonial government consists in its governing too much; in its being too officious, too intermeddling, too complicated, and too expensive; in its being calculated, not to favour the growth, and protect the progress of an infant colony, but to harass and torment, with unavailing remedies, the last moments of a state sinking under weakness and decrepitude. A numberless host of dependants is kept up, to maintain the colonies in subjection. Checks on the abuse of power are multiplied, till authority clashes with authority, and the people are oppressed without being protected. The same form of government is spread over every part of America, and the same institutions established in the most retired village, which have been found useful or necessary in the seats of goyernment and commerce. The magistrates and retainers of justice are as numerous and as active in a country, where every man has plenty with his reach, as they are in Europe, where an immense population is struggling for subsistence in the midst of its own vices. A devout and well-intentioned government exerts more vigilance about the morals and faith of its subjects in the wilds of America, than it employs vigour at home in the defence of their lives, properties, and independence. The expence of the colonial government, though unnecessarily great, is compensated, in part, by the salaries of its servants being consumed in the places where they are received. But more than eight millions of dollars are withdrawn from the annual income of the colonies to replenish the royal treasury of Madrid, from which no part of it ever returns. The taxes and fiscal regulations, by which this revenue is drawn from the people, are singularly injudicious and vexatious. Agriculture is discouraged by the exaction of tithes; commerce harassed by the collection of alcavalas; and the people chafed and fretted by monopolies. But the least exceptionable taxes in the Spanish colonies are those which have no |