Passing the Schuylkill, one day, he saw a man sitting on the bridge, very earnestly looking on the cork of his fishing line. "What luck? What luck?" cried the doctor. "O none! none!" answered our fishing hawk; "none yet; I have not been here over a couple of hours or so." The doctor pushed on. Near sun-down he returned. The man was still sitting and staring at his cork, like a spaniel at a dead set. "Well," said the doctor, "I hope you have had a fine haul among the fish." "Not a single one," replied the man. "Not a single one!" quoth the doctor, amazed. "No, not one, sir," answered the fisher, "not one; but I've had a most glorious nibble!"
The following is a fine hint to such as have learned useful trades, but have not learned what is infinitely more valuable, I mean that divine philanthropy which alone can make their trades their delight, and thus strew life over with roses.
THE SILVER HOOK.
Doctor Franklin observing one day a hearty young fellow, whom he knew to be an extraordinary blacksmith, sitting on the wharf, bobbing for little mud-cats and eels, he called to him, "Ah Tom, what a pity 'tis you don't fish with a silver hook." The young man replied, "he was not able to fish with a silver hook." Some days after this, the doctor passing that way, saw Tom out at the end of the wharf again, with his long pole bending over the flood. "What, Tom," cried the doctor, "have you not got the silver hook yet?"
"God bless you, doctor," cried the blacksmith, "I'm hardly able to fish with an iron hook."
"Poh! poh!" replied the doctor, "go home to your anvil; and you'll make silver enough in one day to buy more and better fish than you would catch here in a month."
But few have it so much in their power to do good or evil as the Printers. I know they all glory in Dr. Franklin as a Father, and are wont to name his name with veneration; happy would it be for this country if they would read the following with imitation.
TRUE INDEPENDENCE.
Soon after his establishment in Philadelphia, Franklin was offered a piece for publication in his newspaper. Being very busy, he begged the gentleman would leave it for consideration. The next day the author called and asked his opinion of it. "Why, sir," replied Franklin, "I am sorry to say that I think it highly scurrilous and defamatory. But being at a loss on account of my poverty whether to reject it or not, I thought I would put it to this issue—at night, when my work was done, I bought a two-penny loaf, on which with a mug of cold water I supped heartily, and then wrapping myself in my great coat, slept very soundly on the floor till morning; when another loaf and a mug of water afforded me a pleasant breakfast. Now, sir, since I can live very comfortably in this manner, why should I prostitute my press to personal hatred or party passion, for a more luxurious living?"
One cannot read this anecdote of our American sage without thinking of Socrates' reply to King Archilaus, who had pressed him to give up preaching in the dirty streets of Athens, and come and live with him in his splendid courts—"Meal, please your majesty, is a half penny a peck at Athens, and water I can get for nothing."