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regular and useful life ; and possibly some of those accidents or connections, that might have injured the constitution, or reputation, or both, are thereby happily prevented. Particular cir. cumstances of particular persons, may possibly sometimes make it prudent to delay entering into that state ; but in general, when nature has rendered our bodies fit for it, the presumption is in nature's favour, that she has not judged amiss in making us desire it. Late marriages are often attended, too, with this further inconvenience, that there is not the same chance that the parents shall live to see their offspring educated. « Late children,” says the Spanish proverb, 66 are early orphans. A melancholy reflection to those whose case it may be! With us in America, marriages are generally in the morning of life ; our children are therefore educated and settled in the world by noon; and thus, our business being done, we have an afternoon and evening of cheerful leisure to ourselves, such as our friend at present enjoys. By these early marriages we are blessed with more children, and from the mode among us, founded by nature, of every mother suckling and nursing her own child, more of them are raised. · Thence the swift progress of population among us, unparalleled in Europe. In fine, I am glad you are married and congratulate you most cordially upon it. You are now in the way of becoming a useful citizen : and you have escaped the unvatural state of celibacy for life the fate of many here, who never intended it, but who having too long postponed the
change of their condition, find, at length, that it
Pray make my compliments and best wishes
ON THE DEATH OF HIS BROTHER,
MR. JOHN FRANKLIN..
:' will of God and nature, that these mortal bodies
be laid aside, when the soul is to enter into real life. This is rather an embryo state, a preparation for living. 'A man is not completely born until he be dead.' Why then should we grieve that a new child is born among the im. mortals, a new member added to their happy society? We are spirits. That bodies should be lent us, while they can afford us pleasure, as. sist us in acquiring knowledge, or doing good to our fellow-creatures, is a kind and benevolent act of God. When they become unfit for these purposes, and afford us pain instead of pleasure; instead of an aid become an incumbrance, and answer none of the intentions for which they were given, it is equally kind and benevolent that a way is provided by which we may get rid of them. I Death is that way. We ourselves, in some cases, prudently choose a partial death. A mangled painful limb, which cannot be restored, we willingly cut off. He who plucks out a tooth, parts with it freely, since the pain goes with it ; and he who quits the whole body, parts at once with all pains, and possibilities of pain and diseases, it was liable to, or capable of making him suffer.
Our friend and we were invited abroad on a party of pleasure, which is to last for ever. His chair was ready first'; and he is gone before us. We could not all conveniently start together : and why should you and I be grieved at this, since we are soon to follow, and know where to find him?
TO THE LATE
RV. SIR, "I RECEIVED your kind letter, with your ex. cellent advice to the United States, which I read with great pleasure, and hope it will be duly re. garded. Such writings, though they may be lightly passed over by many readers, yet, if they make a deep impression on one active mind in a hundred, the effects may be considerable.
Permit ine to mention one little instance, which, though it relates to myself, will not be quite uninteresting to you. When I was a boy, I met with a book entitled, “ Essays to do good," which I think was written by your 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 an influence on my conduct through life: for I have always set a greater value on the character of a doer of good, than any other kind of reputation, and if I have been, as you seein to think, a useful citizen, the public owes the ada vantage of it to that book.
You mention your being in your seventy-eighth year. I am in my seventy-ninth. We are grown old together. It is now more than sixty years since I left Boston ; but I rember well both your father and grandfather, having heard them both in the pulpit, and seen them in their houses. The last time I saw your father was in the be.. ginning of 1724, when I visited himn after my
first trip to Pennsylvania : he received me in his library; and on my taking leave, shewed me a shorter way out of the house, through a narrow passage, which was crossed by a beam over head. We were still talking as I withdrew, he accompanying me behind, and I turning partly towards 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 who never missed any 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 heart, has frequently been of use to me ; and I often think of it, when I see pride mortified, and misfortunes brought upon people by their carrying their heads too high.
I long much to see again my native place; and once hoped to lay my bones there. I left it in 1724. I visited it in 1733, 1743, 1753, and 1763 ; and in 1773 I was in England. In 1775, I had a sight of it, but could not enter, it being in possession of the enemy. I did hope to have been there in 1783 bùt could not obtain my dismission from this employment here ; and now I fear I shall never have that happiness. My best wishes however attend my dear country, “esto perpetua." It is now blessed with an excellent constitution : may it last forever!
This powerful monarchy continues its friendship for the United States. It is a friendship of - the utmost importance to our security, and should