“I found Franklin sitting under a tree in his dooryard, surrounded by his grandchildren.  He looks very white and venerable now.  His hair is a crown of glory.”

[Illustration:  Ben Franklin, surrounded by his grandchildren.]

“’Well, Jack, it has been no small part of my life-work to get you happily married,’ he began in his playful way.  ’A celibate is like the odd half of a pair of scissors, fit only to scrape a trencher.  How many babies have you?’

“‘Three,’ I answered.

“‘It is not half enough,’ said he.  ’A patriotic American should have at least ten children.  I must not forget to say to you what I say to every young man.  Always treat your wife with respect.  It will procure respect for you not only from her, but from all who observe it.  Never use a slighting word.’

“My beloved, how little I need this advice you know, but I think that the old philosopher never made a wiser observation.  I am convinced that civilization itself depends largely on the respect that men feel and show for women.

“I asked about his health.

“’I am weary and the night is falling and I shall soon lie down to sleep, but I know that I shall awake refreshed in the morning,’ he said.

“He told me how, distressed by his infirmity, he came out of France in the Queen’s litter, carried by her magnificent mules.  Of England he had only this to say: 

“’She is doing wrong in discouraging emigration to America.  Emigration multiplies a nation.  She should be represented in the growth of the New World by men who have a voice in its government.  By this fair means she could repossess it instead of leaving it to foreigners, of all nations, who may drown and stifle sympathy for the mother land.  It is now a fact that Irish emigrants and their children are in possession of the government of Pennsylvania.’

“I must not fail to set down here in the hope that my sons may some time read it, what he said to me of the treason of Arnold.

“’Here is the vindication of Poor Richard.  Extravagance is not the way to self-satisfaction.  The man who does not keep his feet in the old, honest way of thrift will some time sell himself, and then he will be ready to sell his friends or his country.  By and by nothing is so dear to him as thirty pieces of silver.’

“I shall conclude my letter with a beautiful confession of faith by this master mind of the century.  It was made on the motion for daily prayers in the Convention now drafting a constitution for the States.  I shall never forget the look of him as, standing on the lonely summit of his eighty years, he said to us: