have certainly advanced in those respects many degrees beyond the English. I find them here a most amiable nation to live with. The Spaniards are, by common opinion, supposed to be cruel, the English proud, the Scotch insolent, the Dutch avaricious, &c.; but I think the French have no national vice ascribed to them. They have some frivolities, but they are harmless. To dress their heads so that a hat cannot be put on them, and then wear their hats under their arms, and to fill their noses with tobacco, may be called follies perhaps, but they are not vices; they are only the effects of the tyranny of custom. In short, there is nothing wanting in the character of a Frenchman that belongs to that of an agreeable and worthy man. They have only some trifles, a surplus of which might be spared.

Will you permit me, while I do them justice, to hint a little censure on our own country people? which I do in good-will, wishing the cause removed. You know the necessity we are under of supplies from Europe, and the difficulty we have at present in making returns. The interest bills would do a good deal towards purchasing arms, ammunition, clothing, sailcloth, and other necessaries for defence. Upon inquiry of those who present those bills to me for acceptance, what the money is to be laid out in, I find that most of it is for superfluities, and more than half of it for tea! How unhappily in this instance the folly of our people, and the avidity of our merchants, concur to weaken and impoverish our country! I formerly computed that we consumed before the war, in that single article, the value of 500,000l. sterling annually. Much of this was saved by stopping the use of it.

I honored the vir

tuous resolution of our women in foregoing that little gratification, and I lament that such virtue should be of so short duration! Five hundred thousand pounds sterling annually laid out in defending ourselves, or annoying our enemies, would have great effects. With what face can we ask aids and subsidies from our friends while we are wasting our own wealth in such prodigality? With great and sincere esteem, I am, &c. B. FRANKLIN.

DAVID HARTLEY, ESQ. TO DR. FRANKLIN. MY DEAR FRIEND, London, April 22, 1779. The sentiments I have opened to you in my late letters for some months past, and which I have reduced in an enclosed paper, into a more specific shape, seem to me, upon very repeated reflection, to promise the fairest ground of good expectation. These propositions originate from myself, as a mediator: I have communications with both sides, but no authority to make proposals from either; and perhaps neither side, if I were to put the propositions separately to each (being myself unauthorised) might give me positive consent. Each side separately might say No, from what is called political prudence; and yet each side might secretly wish that the offer could be made, with a done first from the other party. I think the proposition of a truce for five or seven years, leaving all things in the present dispute in statu quo, must be advantageous to all parties, if it were only in consideration that a general satisfactory peace to all parties may come among the excellent effects of time given for cooling. We can but fight it out at last. War never comes too late; wis

dom may step in between.

These matters have

stolen upon us, and have arisen to great and formidable consequences from small and unexpected beginnings; but henceforward, we should know by experience what to expect. If the rage of war could but be abated, for a sufficient length of time for reason and reflection to operate, I think it would never revive. I cannot pretend to forecast the result of any negotiation, but I think war would not revive; which is all that I want for my argument. Peace is a bonum in se; whereas the most favorable events of war are but, relatively, lesser evils: certainly they are evils: mala in se, not bona in se.

I hope that a cessation of hostilities would produce a renewal of reflection: but even to take the argument at the worst advantage, the two parties are at a cooling distance of three thousand miles asunder. If the flames of war could be but once extinguished, does not the Atlantic ocean contain cold water enough to prevent their bursting out again? I am very strongly of opinion that the two nations of Great Britain and North America would accord to the proposition of a truce for cooling. I cannot say whether a British ministry would accord to it, because they won't tell me: nor can I say whether an American plenipotentiary would accord to it, because probably you will not tell me. I put myself into your hands, however, when I tell you frankly I am of opinion that both would accord to it, if there could be a done first on either side, to bind the bargain first. You have the odds of me in this matter, because you know one half of the question; and I cannot give you any proof on the other side,

but only on my own presumptive judgment, upon observation, and upon a course of reasoning in my own thoughts.

But for France—my judgment would be, that if the proposition of the proposed preliminaries should be agreeable to America, France would do very unhandsomely to defeat it by their refusal. I likewise think it the interest of France: because their interest leads them to go to a certain point, and no further. There is a disparity in the operation of the terms of the alliance on the part of France, and on the part of America. The more vigorously France interposes, the better for America; in proportion to their exertions, they create, less or more, a diversion of the British force this reasoning goes straight forward for America; but it is not so with France. There is a certain point to France, beyond which their work would fail and recoil upon themselves; if they were to drive the British ministry totally to abandon the American war, it would become totally a French war. The events of a twelvemonth past seem to bear testimony to this course of reasoning. The disadvantage upon the bargain, to America, is, that the efficacy of the French alliance to them pre-supposes their continuance in the war. The demur to France is, that the liberation of their new ally recoils with double weight of the war upon themselves, without any ulterior points of advantage in view, as dependent upon that alliance. I think the interest of all parties coincides with the proposition of preliminaries. The proposed preliminaries appear to me to be just and equitable to all parties; but the great object with me is to come to some preliminaries; I could almost add, whatever those prelimina

ries might be, provided a suspension of arms for an adequate term of years were one, I think it would be ten thousand to one against any future renewal of the war. It is not necessary to enter at large into the reasons which induce me to think, that the British ministry as well as the American plenipotentiary would consent to the terms of the proposed preliminaries; for indeed I do not know that I am founded in that opinion with respect to either, but still I believe it of both. But what can a private person do in such a case, wishing to be a mediator for peace, having access to both parties, but equally uncertain of the reception of his mediation on either side? I must hesitate to take any public step, as by a proposition in parliament, or by any other means to drive the parties to an explanation upon any specific proposals: and yet I am very unwilling to let the session pass without some proposition, upon which the parties may meet, if they should be so inclined, as I suspect them to be. I have been endeavoring to feel pulses for some months, but all is dumb show. I cannot say indeed that I meet with any thing discouraging, to my apprehension, either as to equitableness or practicability of the proposition for preliminaries. If I could but simply receive sufficient encouragement that I should not run any hazard of obstructing any other practicable propositions, by obtruding mine, I should be very much satisfied to come forward, in that case, with mine, to furnish a beginning at least which might lead to peace.

There is nothing that I wish so much as to have an opportunity of seeing and conversing with you, having many things to say to you: but if that cannot