Neither man nor beast could travel among them in comfort. No matter how wet or weary, how hungry or thirsty, the poor traveller might be, he was not to expect an atom of refreshment from these silly publicans until their most pestiferous curiosity was first gratified. And then Job himself could not stand such questions as they would goad him with; such as, where he came from—and where he might be a-going—and what religion he might be of—and if he was a married man—and so on. After having been prodigiously teazed in this way for several days, until at last the bare sight of a public house almost threw him into an ague, he determined to try the following remedy at the very next tavern. Soon as he alighted from his horse he desired the tavern keeper to collect his whole family, wife, children, and servants, every soul of them; for that he had something vastly important to communicate. All being assembled and wondering what he had to say, he thus addressed them. "My name is Benjamin Franklin. I am a printer by trade. I live, when at home, in Philadelphia. In Boston I have a father, a good old man who taught me, when I was a little boy, to read my book and say my prayers. I have, ever since, thought it my duty to visit and pay my respects to such a father; and I am on that errand to Boston now. This is all that I can at present recollect of myself that I think worth telling you. But if you can think of any thing else that you wish to know about me, I beg you to out with it at once, that I may answer, and so give you opportunity to get me something to eat; for I long to be on my journey that I may return as soon as possible to my family and business, where I most of all delight to be."
Forty thousand sermons against Idle Curiosity could hardly have driven it so effectually out of New England as did this little squib of ridicule.
The following jeu d'esprit is peculiarly in character with Dr. Franklin. It proves that his wit and his benevolence were equal to every emergence, and that if he carried the Old Testament language in his head, he carried the New Testament spirit in his heart.
WIT AND PERSECUTION.
The conversation turning, one day, on persecution, a doctor of divinity, distinguished for his wit, but, unfortunately, a little too much infected with that acrimony which is caught by reading books of religious controversy, took the part of persecution and contended that it was sometimes right to employ it. Franklin said, he could not think of any case wherein persecution was admissible among rational creatures. It might be very excusable in error to persecute, whose nature it was to see things wrong, and to get angry; but that for such a "divinity as truth," to persecute, was, in his opinion, a sin against the Holy Ghost, never to be forgiven. After using, in his facetious manner, a variety of arguments honourable to wit and philanthropy, and the clergyman still remaining unconvinced, Franklin called out to him with an air of great surprise, "Why, my dear sir, I am astonished that you plead thus for persecution when it is so diametrically opposite to your Bible."
The clergyman replied, that he did not know what doctor Franklin meant. He thought, he said, he knew something of his Bible, but he did not recollect any chapter in point.
"No, sir!" answered Franklin, still with the look and voice of surprise, "not that memorable chapter concerning Abraham and the poor man! Pray, sir, favour us with your Bible a minute or two."
"With all my heart," replied the clergyman, "I should like to see that memorable chapter."
The company manifested a solicitude for the issue of the pending controversy—the family Bible was brought and laid on the table by the side of doctor Franklin. "Well, reverend sir," said he, looking at the preacher, as he took up the Bible, "shall I read this chapter?"
"Certainly," replied the divine, settling himself in his chair to listen.—The eyes of all were fixed on Franklin; when, opening the Bible and turning back the leaves as to find the place, he thus audibly began:—