The Compleated Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin (1757-1790)
Page 31
ALL PARIS WAS OUT TO SEE IT. ... HALF A MILLION SPECTATORS
Messrs. Charles and Robert made a trip thro’ the air to a place farther distant than Dover is from Calais, and would have gone farther if there had been more wind and daylight. They had perfect command of the machine, descending and rising again at pleasure. Never, surely, was a philosophical experiment so magnificently attended. All Paris was out to see it and all the inhabitants of the neighbouring towns, so that there could be hardly less than half a million spectators. The progress made in the management of balloon travel has been rapid, yet I fear it will hardly become a common carriage in my time, tho’ it would be extremely convenient to me, given that my malady forbids the use of the old ones over a pavement.
It was said by some of those with experience that as yet they have not found means to keep up a balloon more than two hours; for that by now and then losing air to prevent rising too high and bursting, and now and then discharging ballast to avoid descending too low, these means of regulation are exhausted. In June 1785 M. Pilatre de Rosier, who had studied the subject as much as any man, lost his support in the air, by bursting of his balloon, or by some other means we are yet unacquainted with, and fell with his companion from the height of one thousand toises, onto the rocky coast, and was found dashed to pieces.
BEING NOW DISABLED BY THE STONE
I wrote M. de Vergennes that I could not pay my devoirs personally at Versailles, sending my grandson to supply my place, and urged Congress again to answer my request of being recalled. I was too much harassed by a variety of correspondence, together with gout and gravel, which induced me to postpone doing what I often fully intended to do. Being at that point in my 80TH year, and engag’d in much business that must not be neglected, writing had become more and more irksome to me, and I grew more indolent. Philosophic discussions, not being urgent as business, were postponed till they were forgotten.
My sitting too much at the desk had already almost killed me. The stone gave me much pain, wounded my bladder and occasioned me to make bloody urine, even when traveling in the easiest of carriage. I sought to prevent the stone from growing larger by abstemious living and gentle exercise, and was able to go pretty comfortably with it, but when I attempted to write, the pain would interrupt my train of thinking, so that I laid down my pen and sought some light amusement.
The relish for reading poetry had left me long ago, but I received a book of poetry from Mr. John Thornton, and there was something so new in the manner, so easy, and yet so correct in the language, so clear in the expression, yet concise, and so just in the sentiments, that I read the whole thing with pleasure, and some of the pieces more than once.
Madame Brillon did me the honor of asking for a copy of my writings, so through Mr. Le Roy I sent her the Information to Those Who Would Remove to America, and I added the Remarks Concerning the Savages of North America. I also sent several other little things printed in my house at Passy solely for our friends. If she had not lost The Handsome and the Deformed Leg, and The Morals of Chess, she should have had a complete collection of all my bagatelles which had been printed at Passy.
I had promised my dear friend Countess d’Houdetot125 to spend a few days at her home and gardens in Sannois, and there was nothing I would have liked better than to do; but the more I thought about it, the less feasible it seemed, for I was less able to walk. Going no further than Madame Brillon’s caused me to be in pain for several days. I was thus obliged to inform the Countess that I had to give up the pleasure of her charming Sannois retreat.
We had a terrible winter in France that year [1783-84], such another as had not been remembered by any man living. The snow lay thick upon the ground ever since Christmas, and the frost was constant. The severity of the winter in America as well hindered travelling and occasion’d a delay in the assembling of the states. Yet I was still alive, the sun started to return, the days to lengthen, the Spring to come, the trees and the gardens at Passy to regain their verdure, all nature to laugh, and to me, happiness.
THE ORDER OF CINCINNATI: DESCENDING HONOUR IS GROUNDLESS, ABSURD, AND HURTFUL TO POSTERITY
I received by Capt. Barney some newspaper reports relating to the Order of Cincinnati, wherein a number of private persons thought it proper to distinguish themselves and their posterity from their fellow citizens, and form an order of hereditary knights, in direct opposition to the solemnly declared sense of their country in the Articles of Confederation. Perhaps I should not myself object to their wearing their ribbons and badges according to their fancy, tho’ I certainly should object to the entailing it as an honour of their posterity. For honour worthily obtain’d, is in nature a personal thing, and incommunicable to any but those who had some share in obtaining it. Thus among the Chinese, the most ancient, and from long experience the wisest of nations, honour does not descend but ascends. If a man from his learning, his wisdom or his valour is promoted by the emperor to the rank of Mandarin, his parents are immediately entitled to all the same ceremonies of respect from the people that are establish’d as due to the Mandarin himself, on this supposition: that it must have been owing to the education, instruction, and good example afforded him by his parents that he was rendered capable of serving the public. This ascending honour is therefore useful to the state as it encourages parents to give their children a good and virtuous education. But the descending honour to posterity who could have had no share in obtaining it, is not only groundless and absurd, but often hurtful to that posterity, since it is apt to make them proud, disdaining to be employed in useful arts, and thence falling into poverty and all the meannesses, servility and wretchedness attending it, which is the present case with much of what is called the Noblesse in Europe. Or if, to keep up the dignity of the family, estates are entailed entirely on the eldest male heir, another pest to industry and improvement of the country is introduced, which will be follow’d by all the odious mixture of pride and beggary and idleness that have half depopulated Spain, occasioning continual extinction of families by the discouragements of marriage and improvement of estates. I wish therefore that the Cincinnati, if they must go on with their project, would direct the badges of their order to be worn by their parents instead of handing them down to their children. It would be a good precedent, and might have good effects. It would also be a kind of obedience to the fourth commandment, in which God enjoins us to honour our father and mother, but has no where directed us to honour our children.
I hoped therefore that the Order would drop this part of their project and content themselves as the Knights of the Garter, Bath, Thistle, St. Louis and other orders of Europe do, with a life enjoyment of their little badge and ribbon, and let the distinction die with those who have merited it. At length, the Cincinnati institution was so universally dislik’d by the people that it was dropped.
I WISH THE BALD EAGLE HAD NOT BEEN CHOSEN
As to the figure to represent the order, I was not displeased that the figure looks more like a turkey than a bald eagle. For my own part I wish the bald eagle had not been chosen as the representative of our country. He does not get his living honestly. He perches on some dead tree near the river, where, too lazy to fish for himself, he watches the labour of the fishing hawk; and when that diligent bird has at length taken a fish, and is bearing it to his nest for the support of his mate and young ones, the bald eagle pursues him and takes it from him. With all this injustice, he is like those among men who live by sharping and robbing. Besides, he is a rank coward: the little king bird not bigger than a sparrow attacks him boldly and drives him out of the district. He is therefore by no means a proper emblem for the brave and honest Cincinnati of America, who have driven all the king birds from our country, tho’ exactly fit for that order of knights which the French call Chevaliers d’Industrie.
In truth, the turkey is in comparison a much more respectable bird, and withal a true original native of America. Eagles have been found in all countries, but the turkey was peculiar to ours, the
first of the species seen in Europe having been brought to France by the Jesuits from Canada, and serv’d up at the wedding table of Charles the ninth. He is besides, tho’ a little vain and silly, a bird of courage, and would not hesitate to attack a grenadier of the British guards who should presume to invade his farm yard with a red coat on.
THIS HAS BEEN A TRICK OF MINE FOR DOING A DEAL OF GOOD WITH A LITTLE MONEY
I sent Benjamin Webb, at his solicitation, a bill for ten louis d’ors. I told him, “I do not pretend to give such a sum. I only lend it to you. When you shall return to your country with a good character, you cannot fail of getting into some business that will in time enable you to pay all your debts: In that case, when you meet with another honest man in similar distress, you must pay me by lending this sum to him; enjoining him to discharge the debt by a like operation when he shall be able and shall meet with such another opportunity. I hope it may thus go thro’ many hands before it meets with a knave that will stop its progress.” This has been a trick of mine for doing a deal of good with a little money. I have not been rich enough to afford much in good works and so I have been obliged to be cunning and make the most of a little.
A SATIRE ON DAYLIGHT SAVING
In the same spirit, I flattered myself to bring forward a scheme of finance. As we may be frequently disposed in this nation to engage in wars, and are sometimes embarrassed in what manner to raise money by taxes, it is hoped that, by the help of savings that must occur from adopting this economical project, we shall easily become the terror of nations. In any event, it may allow us to abolish various taxes that are a burden upon the public, and above all upon the poor. The payment of our national debt is another object that may readily be accomplished by it. A translation of it appeared in one of the daily papers of Paris about the year 1784, herein printed below:To the authors of the journal:
Messieurs,
You often entertain us with accounts of new discoveries. Permit me to communicate to the public through your paper, one that has been late made by myself, and which I conceive may be of great utility.
I was the other evening in a grand company, where the new lamp of Messrs. Quinquet and Lange was introduced, and much admired for its splendor: but a general inquiry was made whether the oil consumed was in proportion to the light it afforded, in which case there would be no saving in the use of it. I was much pleased to see this general concern for economy; for I love economy exceedingly.
I went home and to bed, three or four hours after midnight, with my head full of the subject. An accidental sudden noise waked me about six in the morning, when I was surprised to find my room filled with light; and I imagined at first that a number of those lamps had been brought into it; but rubbing my eyes I perceived the light came in at the windows. I got up and looked out to see what might be the occasion of it, when I saw the sun just rising above the horizon, from whence he poured his rays plentifully into my chamber, my domestic having negligently omitted the preceding night to close the shutters.
I looked at my watch, which goes very well, and found that it was six o’clock; and still thinking it something extraordinary that the sun should rise so early, I looked into the almanac, where I found it to be the hour given for his rising on that day. I looked forward too and found he was to rise still earlier every day till toward the end of June, and that at no time in the year he retarded his rising so long as till eight o’clock. Your readers who, with me, have never seen any signs of sunshine before noon, will be as much astonished as I was, when they hear of his rising so early. I am convinced of this. I am certain of my fact. One cannot be more certain of any fact. I saw it with my own eyes. And having repeated this observation the three following mornings, I found always precisely the same result.
This event has given rise in my mind to several serious and important reflections. I considered that if I had not been awakened so early that morning, I should have slept six hours longer by the light of the sun, and in exchange have lived six hours the following night by candle light; and the latter being a much more expensive light than the former, my love of economy induced me to muster up what little arithmetic I was master of, and to make some calculations.
I took for the basis of my calculations the supposition that there are 100,000 families in Paris, and that these families consume in the night half a pound of candles per hour. Then estimating seven hours per day, and there being seven hours per night which we burn candles, the account gives us 128,100,000 hours spent at Paris by candle-light, which at half a pound of wax and tallow per hour, gives the weight of 64,075,000 pounds, which estimating the whole at the medium price of thirty sols the pound, makes the sum of ninety-six millions and seventy-five thousand livres. An immense sum that the city of Paris might save every year, only by the economy of using sunshine instead of candles!
If it should be said that people are apt to be obstinately attached to old customs, and that it will be difficult to induce them to rise before noon, consequently my discovery can be of but little use; I answer, nil desperandum. I believe all who have common sense, as soon as they have learned from this paper that it is daylight when the sun rises, will contrive to rise with him; and to compel the rest, I would propose the following regulations:
First. Let a tax be laid of a louis per window, on every window that is provided with shutters to keep out the light of the sun.
Second. Let the same salutary operation of police be made use of to prevent our burning candles that inclined us last winter to be more economical in burning wood; that is, let guards be placed in the shops of all the wax and tallow chandlers, and no family permitted to be supplied with more than one pound of candles per week.
Third. Let guards also be posted to stop all the coaches, &c. that would pass the streets after sunset, except those of physicians, surgeons, and midwives.
Fourth. Every morning, as soon as the sun rises, let all the bells in every church be set ringing; and if that is not sufficient, let cannon be fired in every street, to wake the sluggards effectually, and make them open their eyes to see their true interest.
All the difficulty will be in the first two or three days, after which the reformation will be as natural and easy as the present irregularity; for ce n’est que le premier pas qui coute. Oblige a man to rise at four in the morning, and it is more than probable he shall go willingly to bed at eight in the evening; and having had eight hours sleep, he will rise more willingly at four the morning following.
But this sum of 96,075,000 livres is not the whole of what may be saved by my economical project. You may observe that I have calculated upon only one half of the year, and much may be saved in the other, though the days are shorter. Besides, the immense flock of wax and tallow left unconsumed during the summer, will probably make candles much cheaper for the ensuing winter, and continue cheaper as long as the proposed reformation shall be supported.
For the great benefit of this discovery, thus freely communicated and bestowed by me on the public, I demand neither place, pension, exclusive privilege, nor any other reward whatever. I expect only to have the honour of it. And yet I know there are little envious minds who will, as usual, deny me this, and say that my invention was known to the ancients, and perhaps they may bring passages out of old books in proof of it. I will not dispute with these people that the ancients might have known the sun would rise at certain hours; they possibly had, as we have, almanacs that predicted it; but it does not follow from thence that they knew he gave light as soon as he rose. This is what I claim as my discovery. If the ancients knew it, it must have been long since forgotten, for it certainly was unknown to the moderns, at least to the Parisians, which to prove, I need use but one plain simple argument. They are as well-instructed, judicious, and prudent a people as exist any where in the world, all professing like myself to be lovers of economy; and from the many heavy taxes required from them by the necessities of the state, have surely an abundant reason to be economical. I say it is impossible that so sensible a pe
ople under such circumstances should have lived so long by the unwholesome and enormously expensive light of candles, if they had really known that they might have had as much pure light of the sun for nothing. I am &c.
An Abonne.
STOOP AS YOU GO THROUGH LIFE
I received a kind letter from Samuel Mather, so I wrote him in return, and told him the following instance. When I was a boy, I met with a book entitled Essays to Do Good, which was written by his father. It had been so little regarded by a former possessor, that several leaves of it were torn out. But the remainder gave me such a turn of thinking as to have no [small] influence on my conduct thro’ life; for I have always set a greater value on the character of a doer of good, than on any other kind of reputation; and if I have been a useful citizen, the public owes the advantage of it to that book.
It had been more than 60 years since I left Boston, but I remembered well both his father and grandfather,126 having heard them both in the pulpit, and seen them in their houses. The last time I had seen his father was in the beginning of 1724 when I visited him after my first trip to Pennsylvania. He receiv’d me in his library, and on my taking leave, show’d me a shorter way out of the house thro’ a narrow passage which was cross’d by a beam overhead. We were still talking as I withdrew, he accompanying me behind, and I turning partly toward him, when he said hastily stoop, stoop! I did not understand him till I felt my head hit against the beam. He was a man that never miss’d an occasion of giving instruction, and upon this he said to me, You are young and have the world before you; stoop as you go through it and you will miss many hard thumps. This advice, thus beat into my head, has frequently been of use to me, and I often think of it when I see pride mortified, and misfortunate brought upon people by their carrying their heads too high.