The

sermons. Franklin would rather have him preach other preachers' good sermons, than "bad ones of his own manufacture." Afterwards Hemphill confessed to his philosophic hearer, that none of the sermons he had preached were his own-that with his good memory he could repeat any sermon after reading it once. clerical plagiarist left the city, and Franklin the congregation. In 1739 Whitefield arrived in Philadelphia. "Enormous multitudes" assembled to hear him. Franklin was among his first hearers. Like a true philosopher, he watched "the extraordinary influence of his oratory on his hearers, and how much they admired and respected him, notwithstanding his common abuse of them, by assuring them they were naturally half beasts and half devils." Soon a wonderful moral improvement appeared in the manners of the in

habitants.

Whitefield and Franklin became personal friends. The latter admired the powers of the orator, and esteemed him as a perfectly honest man. He says, Whitefield "used sometimes to pray for my conversion, but never had the satisfaction of believing that his prayers were heard. Ours was a mere civil friendship, sincere on both sides, and lasted to his death."

Whitefield extended his preaching tour to Georgia. The poverty and degradation of the people there, led him to start the project of founding an "Orphan house." He returned north and preached on the subject, for the purpose of securing the necessary means. Franklin said Georgia was not a suitable place for such an institution. Better build it in Philadelphia, and bring your orphans hither. Whitefield adhered to his plan, and Franklin refused to help him. One day he attended one of his services. Towards the end of the sermon, Whitefield appealed to the congregation to help him in his project for the fatherless. Franklin says: "I silently resolved he should get nothing from me. I had, in my pocket, a handful of copper money, three or four silver dollars, and five pistoles in gold (a coin worth $3.00). As he proceeded I began to soften, and concluded to give the copper. Another stroke of his oratory made me ashamed of that, and determined me to give the silver; and he finished so admirably, that I emptied my pocket wholly into the collector's dish, gold and all." A friend of his, opposed to this project, designedly left his money at home, fearful lest Whitefield's oratory might lead his judgment captive. Toward the close of the sermon, he was so carried away, that he asked a neighbor standing near, to lend him some money for the collection. It happened to be a Quaker, who replied: "At any other time, friend Hopkinson, I would lend to thee freely; but not now; for thee seems to be out of thy right senses."

Upon one of his arrivals from England, Whitefield wrote to

Franklin that he was coming to Philadelphia, and knew not where he could lodge, as a certain friend with whom he usually lodged had left the city. "You know my house," replied Franklin. "If you can make shift with its scanty accommodations, you will be most heartily welcome."

Whitefield replied, that "he would gratefully accept the invitation, and that if he (Franklin) made that kind offer for Christ's sake, he should not miss his reward."

"Don't let me be mistaken" (misunderstood), said Franklin. "It was not for Christ's sake, but for your sake." Another evidence how totally this otherwise good and useful man lacked faith in Christ.

Afterwards the Rev. Gilbert Tennent became the pastor of Whitefield's disciples. He applied to Franklin for help and counsel to build a church. He advised him first to apply to all those, who he knew would give him something; next, to those whom he regarded as uncertain; and lastly, he should not pass by those who, he was sure, would give him nothing. For with some of them he might be mistaken.

When he published his newspaper in Philadelphia, he severely berated some merchants for their dishonest business transactions. As he was dependent on this class of people for business patronage, they expected to muzzle his pen. A committee, appointed at a public meeting of merchants, called on him. "Here we have been patronizing and supporting you, and this is our reward," said the enraged merchants. "You must change this mode of doing, or we will show you, that the merchants are a power you may not trifle with. Without our patronage where would you stand?"

"Gentlemen of the Merchants' Committee," said the hard-working printer at his case. "I am as you see, very busy now, but call at my house this evening for dinner. I shall consider the matter over with you in a friendly manner.' Surely, Old Ben is frightened, thought the committee. They came at the hour appointed for dinner, and found nothing on the table but mush and a pitcher of milk; and poor mush at that, made of ill-ground

corn.

The proud merchants watched the healthy printer making a hearty meal out of the mush and milk; not accustomed to such coarse fare, they disdained to taste it. Rising from the table Franklin politely addressed them thus: "He that can live comfortably on such food can live without your patronage. I shall cease to attack those practices when you cease to practice them, and not before. Gentlemen, good night." Henceforth Franklin had no more trouble with the merchants, who left him, wiser if not better men.

When Tom Paine wrote his work against the Bible, he sent a part of the manuscript to Franklin for his inspection. The following is his reply:

DEAR SIR:-I have read your manuscript with some attention. By the argument it contains against a particular Providence, though you allow a general Providence, you strike at the foundation of all religion. For without the belief of a Providence that takes cognizance of, guards, and guides, and favors particular persons, there is no motive to worship a Deity, to fear its displeasure, or to pray for its protection. I will not enter into any discussion of your principles, though you seem to desire it. At present I shall only give you my opinion, that, though your reasonings are subtle, and may prevail with some readers, you will not succeed so as to change the general sentiments of mankind on that subject, and the consequence of printing this piece will be a great deal of odium drawn upon yourself, mischief to you, and no benefit to others. He that spits against the wind spits in his own face. But were you to succeed, do you imagine any good will be done by it? You yourself may find it easy to live a virtuous life without the assistance afforded by religion; you have a clear perception of the advantages of virtue, and the disadvantages of vice, and possess a strength of resolution sufficient to enable you to resist common temptations. But think how great a portion of mankind consist of weak and ignorant men and women, and of inexperienced, inconsiderate youth, of both sexes, who have need of the motives of religion to restrain them from vice, to support their virtue, and retain them in the practice of it till it becomes habitual, which is the great point for its security. And perhaps you are indebted to her originally, that is to your religious education, for the habits of virtue upon which you now justly value yourself. You might easily display your excellent talents of reasoning upon a less hazardous subject, and thereby obtain a rank with our most distinguished authors. For among us it is not necessary, as among Hottentots, that a youth, to be raised into the company of men, should prove his manhood by beating his mother. I would advise you, therefore, not to attempt unchaining the tiger, but to burn this piece before it is seen by any other person, whereby you will save yourself a great deal of mortification from the enemies it may raise against you, and perhaps a good deal of regret and repentance. If men are so wicked with religion, what would they be if without it? I intend this letter itself as a proof of my friendship, and therefore add no profession to it; but simply subscribe, yours, B. FRANKLIN.

When Franklin was a member of the Convention for forming a Constitution of the United States, this body seemed to make no progress for four or five weeks. To what extent he was a Christian,

toward the close of his life, is known to the great Searcher of hearts. In his own way he had faith in the efficacy of prayer, which the following speech before this Convention shows:

"In the beginning of the contest with Britain, when we were sensible of danger, we had daily prayers in this room for the Divine protection. Our prayers, sir, were heard; and they were graciously answered. All of us, who were engaged in the struggle, must have observed frequent instances of a superintending Providence in our favor. To that kind Providence, we owe this happy opportunity of consulting in peace on the means of establishing our future national felicity; and have we now forgotten that powerful Friend? or do we imagine we no longer need His assistance? I have lived, sir, a long time; and the longer I live, the more convincing proof I see of this truth, that God governs in the affairs of men; and if a sparrow cannot fall to the ground without His notice, is it probable that an empire can rise without His aid? We have been assured, sir, in the Sacred Writings, that, except the Lord build the house, they labor in vain that build it.' I firmly believe this; and I also believe, that, without His concurring aid, we shall succeed in this political building no better than the builders of Babel; we shall be divided by our little, partial, local interests, our projects will be confounded, and we ourselves shall become a reproach and a byword down to future ages; and, what is worse, mankind may hereafter, from this unfortunate instance, despair of establishing government by human wisdom, and leave it to chance, war and conquest. I, therefore, beg leave to move, that henceforth prayers, imploring the assistance of Heaven, and its blessing on our deliberations, be held in this assembly every morning, before we proceed to business; and that one or more of the clergy of this city be requested to officiate in that service."

Only three or four members voted for Franklin's motion. Franklin was human, of which he always had a painful sense. His many virtues we cordially commend to our readers. His life teaches the pleasing lesson, that, in America, worth and not wealth, is the badge of true distinction; that the poorest boy in the nation, if he is industrious and strives to be virtuous and intelligent, can rise to fame, and become a blessing to human kind. That even an industrious boy, and natural genius, needs the blood of Jesus Christ to cleanse him from his sins and save his soul. It is said, that five weeks before his death, he expressed "a cold approbation of the system of morals of Jesus of Nazareth." Dear reader, whatever this may have been worth, I beseech thee take up the cross, and become a disciple of Christ, ere death knocks at thy door.

It is said, twenty thousand people attended Franklin's funeral. He lies buried by the side of his wife, in Christ church grave-yard,

Philadelphia. The following epitaph he wrote for himself before he was twenty-one years old:

THE HAPPIEST MAN ON THIS SIDE OF THE WATER.

BY THE EDITOR.

The name of Amos Lawrence has become a household word in New England. Wherein was he great and good, and how did he become so?

In 1786 he was born in Groton, Massachusetts. His father was a man of limited means; yet in comfortable circumstances; worth about $1000. On a small New England farm he strove to make an honest livelihood for his family. A flock of healthy, happy children daily surrounded his board. He had been an officer in the American Revolution. His beaver hat was pierced by a ball in the battle of Bunker Hill. The hat became a family heirloom. Many an evening group of messmates and fellow-soldiers did the old man gather around his hearth, to whose thrilling stories the children listened with intense interest.

It was before the common school system had been introduced. The district-school house was but a short distance from the Lawrence home. The schoolmaster boarded among the parents of the scholars the most of the time with Samuel Lawrence, the father of Amos.

Amos Lawrence was a delicate child. Often he was kept out of school by sickness, when he would while away his time at home with his books and tools. In the spring and summer he made many a pop-gun and squirt with pen-knife and jack-knife out of elder wood. In later life he said: "I like the plan of boys ac