The faith you mention has, doubtless, its use in the world. I do not desire to see it diminished. But I wish it were more productive of good works than I have generally seen it, I mean real good works; works of kindness, charity, mercy, and public spirit; not holiday keeping, sermon reading or hearing, performing church ceremonies, or making long prayers, filled with flatteries and compliments, despised even by wise men, and much less capable of pleasing the Deity. The worship of God is a duty; the hearing and reading of sermons may be useful; but if men rest in hearing and praying, as too many do, it is as if a tree should value itself on being watered and putting forth leaves, though it never produced any fruit. Your great master thought much less of these outward appearances and professions than many of his modern disciples. He preferred the doers of the word to the mere hearers; the son that seemingly refused to obey his father, and yet performed his commands, to him that professed his readiness, but neglected the work; the heretical but charitable Samaritan, to the uncharitable though orthodox priest and sanctified Levite: and those who gave food to the hungry, drink to the thirsty, raiment to the naked, entertainment to the stranger, and relief to the sick, though they never heard of his name, he declares they shall in the last day be accepted, when those who cry Lord, Lord, who value themselves on their faith, though great enough to perform miracles, but have neglected good works, shall be rejected. He professed he came "not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance," which implied his modest opinion, that there were some in his time so good, that they needed not to hear even him for improvement; but now-a-days, we have scarce a little parson that does not think it the duty of every man within his reach, to think exactly as he does, and that all dissenters offend God. I wish to such more humility, and to you health and happiness, being
Your friend and servant,
B. FRANKLIN.
What but the spirit of immortal love, which, not content with doing much good in life, fondly looks beyond, and feasts on the happiness that others are to derive from us long after we have ceased to live on earth; what, I ask, but that love, could have dictated
DR. FRANKLIN'S WILL.
"When thou makest a feast, call not thy rich neighbours: lest they also bid thee again, and a recompense be made thee.
"But when thou makest a feast, call the poor; and thou shalt be blessed. For they cannot recompense thee, for thou shall be recompensed at the resurrection of the just.
"Luke, xiv."
Sentiments divinely sublime!—Who, without emotions indescribable, can read them! And yet if they were lost from the Bible, they might be found again in the Will of Benjamin Franklin.
While many others "rise early, and late take rest, and eat the bread of labour and care," that they may "die rich"—leaving their massy treasures, some scanty legacies excepted, to corrupt a few proud relatives, doctor Franklin acted as though the above text, the true sublime of wisdom and benevolence, was before him.