however, at a later period to notice the rise and progress of the other states now free, so as to condense within a small compass the entire modern history of South America. ON THE ORIGINALITY OF DR. FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. I OBTAINED accommodation at the Washington Tavern, which stands opposite the Treasury. At this tavern I took my meals at the public table, where there was every day to be found a number of clerks, employed at the different offices under government: together with about half a dozen Virginians, and a few New England men. There was a perpetual conflict of opinions between these southern and northern men and one night, after supper, I was present at a vehement dispute, which ended in the loss of a horse, a saddle, and a bridle. : The dispute was about Dr. Franklin: the man from New England, enthusiastic in what related to Dr. Franklin, asserted that the doctor, being self taught, was original in every thing that he ever published. "Sir," replied the Virginian, "the writings of Dr. Franklin, so far from being original, exhibit nothing but a transposition of the thoughts of others. Nay, Franklin is a downright plagiarist. Let him retain only his own feathers, let those he has stolen be restored to their lawful possessors, and Franklin, who now struts about, expanding the gayest plumage, will be without a single feather to cover his nakedness. laugh from the whole company.) (A loud New England Man. "If accusation, without proof, can condemn a man, who, sir, shall be innocent? Sir, you are a Virginian. I intend no personal reflection, but it is notorious that the southern people do not hold the memory of Franklin in much estimation: but hear what a Latin writer says of him: Eripuit cælo-something-Gentlemen, I have forgotten the most of my Latin; I cannot quote so correctly as I did once : but of this I can assure you, and you may take my word for it, that the compliment is a very fine one." Virginian. "I know the line you advert to: it is an eruption of mad enthusiasm, from the disordered intellect of Turgot. But this is digressing from our subject. I maintain, and can prove, that Franklin is a plagiarist a downright, barefaced, shameless plagiarist." New England Man. "Franklin, perhaps, sir, had not that stoical calmness, which a great man in your state is remarkable for: he did not endeavour to catch applause by baiting his hook with affected diffidence. Franklin was above it. His penetration discovered, and his candour acknowledged, that sheer impudence was at any time less injurious than mock modesty." Virginian. "Sir, an oracular darkness accompanies your discourse. But why retreat? Why not stand your ground? Why not evince yourself the champion of Franklin? Again I throw down the gauntlet ! Franklin I maintain was a shameless plagiarist." New England Man. "Have you a horse here, my friend ?" Virginian. "Sir, I hope you do not suppose I came hither on foot from Virginia. I have, sir, in Mr. White's stable, the prettiest Chickasaw that ever trod on four pasterns. I swopped her for a roan horse. Mr. Gibbs, you remember my roan (turning to a man in company). I say, I swopped her for a roan, with Mad-dog, the Chickasaw chief, who lives on the Mississippi." New England Man. "And I have a bay mare here, that I bought of Nezer Mattocho, at Salem. I gave ninety dollars in hard cash for her. Now, I will lay my bay mare against your Chickasaw, that Dr. Franklin is not a plagiarist." Virginian. "Done! Go it-waiter-you waiter?" The waiter obeyed the summons, and making the Virginian a low bow, replied, "You call, Massa Ryland?" Virginian. "Yes, Atticus. Bring down my portmanteau out of my room. I never travel without books. And it critically happens that, in my portmanteau, I have both Franklin's Miscellanies, and Taylor's Discourses." The trunk being opened, the Virginian put Franklin's Miscellanies into the hands of the disputant, and desired he would read the celebrated parable against persecution. sun. New England Man reading. "And it came to pass, after these things, that Abraham sat in the door of his tent, about the going down of the And behold a man, bent with age, coming from the way of the wilderness leaning on his staff! And Abraham arose and met him, and said unto him, turn in, I pray thee, and wash thy feet, and tarry all the night; and thou shalt arise early in the morning, and go on thy way : and the man said, nay: for I will abide under this tree. But Abraham pressed him greatly so he turned, and they went into the tent. : And Abraham baked unleavened bread, and they did eat. And when Abraham saw that the man blessed not God, he said unto him, wherefore dost not thou worship the most High God, creator of heaven and earth? And the man answered, and said, I do not worship thy God, neither do I call upon his name; for I have made to myself a God, which abideth in my house, and provideth me with all things. And Abraham's zeal was kindled against the man: and he arose and fell upon him, and drove him forth with blows into the wilderness. And God called unto Abraham saying, Abraham where is the stranger? And Abraham answered and said, Lord, he would not worship thee, neither would he call upon thy name; therefore have I driven him out before my face into the wilderness. And God said, have I borne with him these hundred and ninety-eight years, and nourished him and clothed him, notwithstanding his rebellion against me and couldst not thou, who art thyself a sinner, bear with him one night?" The New England Man having read the parable, he turned to the company, and, with tumultuous rapture, exclaimed, "What a noble lesson is this to the intolerant ? Can any thing speak more home? Why the writer seems inspired?" "And inspired he was," cried the Virginian. "There is nothing in the parable, sir, natural: every word of it was revealed. It all came to Franklin from Bishop Taylor. There, sir; read, and be convinced. This book was printed more than a century agone it is a volume of polemical discourses." New England Man (reading). "When Abraham sat at his tent door, according to his custom, waiting to entertain strangers, he espied an old man, stooping, and leaning on his staff, weary with age and travel, coming towards him, who was an hundred years of age. He received him kindly, washed his feet, provided supper, and caused him to sit down but observing that the old man ate, and prayed not, nor begged for a blessing on his meat, he asked him why he did not worship the God of heaven? The old man told him, that he worshipped the fire only, and acknowledged no other God. At which answer Abraham grew so zealously angry, that he thrust the old man out of his tent, and exposed him to all the evils of the night, and an unguarded condition. When the old man was gone, God called to Abraham, and asked him where the stranger was? He replied, I thrust him away, because he did not worship thee. God answered him, I have suffered him these hundred years, although he dishonoured me; and couldst not thou endure him one night, and when he gave thee no trouble?" The New England Man having done reading, the Virginian leaped from his seat, and, calling the waiter, exclaimed, "Atticus! tell the ostler to put the bay mare into the next stall to the Chickasaw, and, do you hear, give her half a gallon of oats more, on the strength of her having a new master." Here followed a hearty laugh from the audience; but the New England Man exhibited strong symptoms of chagrin. "Devil take Franklin," said he; "an impostor, a humbug. If he ever attained the wish he expresses in his epitaph, of undergoing a new edition in the next world, may his plagiarism be omitted, that no more wagers may be lost by them." "His epitaph, did you say, sir," cried the Virginian. "I hardly think he came by that honestly." New England Man. Sir, I will lay you my saddle of it: a bran new saddle. Jonathan Gregory, of Boston, imported it from London." Virginian. "My saddle, sir, is imported too. I swopped a double barrelled gun for it, with Mr. Racer, of Fairfax county. And I will not only lay my saddle against yours, sir, that Franklin did not come honestly by his epitaph, but I will lay my snaffle bridle, and my curb, my plated stirrups and stirrup leathers; aye, and my martingale into the bargain." New England Man. "Done! go it! Now for your proof." Virginian. "Is there any gentleman in company, besides myself, who understands Latin. If there is, let him have the goodness to speak." New England Man. "This gentleman who came with me from Salem is not only a Latin, but a Greek scholar. He was reared at Cambridge.* He will talk Latin with Professor Willerd, an hour by the clock." Virginian. "Then, sir, I believe he will adjudge to me your imported saddle. Will you do me the favour to introduce me to your companion." New England Man. "This, sir, is Mr. Meadows. He is the author of an Ode on the Clam Feast."† Virginian. "Mr. Meadows, give me leave. Within the cover of this book, you will find the epitaph which passes as Franklin's: I request you to read it aloud." Mr. Meadows reading "The body BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, Printer, Lies here, food for worms, Yet the work itself shall not be lost, For it will (as he believes) appear Once more A new and more beautiful Edition, Corrected and Amended by New England Man. "Well, sir, what objection can you make to this? Does it not breathe humility? Is it not a lecture on morality?" Virginian. “Sir, it was not honestly come by. Franklin robbed a little boy of it. The very words, sir, are taken from a Latin epitaph, written on a bookseller, by an Eton scholar. Mr. Meadows, do, sir, * An University near Boston. + The first emigrants to New England appeased their hunger, upon landing on the shore of America, with some shell-fish they found on the beach, known in popular language by the name of clams. The anniversary of this day is every year celebrated on the spot by their descendants, who feast upon clams. read the epitaph, which I have pasted on the cover." * Mr. Meadows reads. "Vitæ volumine peracto Hic finis JACOBI TONSON, Felices ingenii partus. Ille vester, margine erasus, deletur! Ne prelo sepulchri commissus Fotio vitæ delapso Expectans Novam Editionem Auctiorem et Emendatiorem." Virginian. “Well, Mr. Meadows, what say you? Is this accidental or studied similitude? What say you, Mr. Meadows?" Mr. Meadows. "The saddle, sir, is yours." On hearing this laconic but decisive sentence pronounced by his friend, the New England Man grew outrageous, which served only to augment the triumph of the Virginian. "Be pacified," cried he, "I will give you another chance. I will lay you my boots against yours that Franklin's pretended discovery of calming troubled waters, by pouring upon them oil, may be found in the third book of Bede's Church History; or that his facetious essay on the air bath is poached word for word from Aubrey's Miscellanies. What say you?" "Why, I say," returned the New England Man, "that I should be sorry to go bootless home, and, therefore, I will lay no more wagers about Dr. Franklin's originality." ANTIQUITIES OF GUERNSEY. As no printed record exists of the local history of the channel islands in any degree worthy of their real importance, it will form one of the objects of this Magazine to preserve the memorials of past times as well as modern transactions. We earnestly invite contributions on the antiquities of Guernsey and Jersey from all who desire to support this periodical, and as we are assured that many families in both islands possess documents * If it should be objected that Franklin was ignorant of Latin, let it be told that an English translation of this epitaph may be found in the Gentleman's Magazine for February, 1736. From this source Franklin probably borrowed his thought. Vol. I.-No. I. 5 |