source a regular temperance, he attained to a great age. In his seventy-third year, still fresh and strong, he left his native country, and came over to America, to see his younger brother Josias, between whom and himself there had always subsisted a more than ordinary friendship. On his arrival in Boston, he was received with unbounded joy by Josias, who pressed him to spend the residue of his days in his family. To this proposition the old gentleman readily consented; and the more so as he was then a widower, and his children, all married off, had left him. He had the honor to give his name, and to stand godfather to our little hero, for whom, on account of his vivacity and fondness for learning, he conceived an extraordinary affection. And Ben always took a great delight in talking of this uncle. Nor was it to be wondered at; for he was an old man who wore his religion very much to win young people—a pleasant countenance—a sweet speech—and a fund of anecdotes always entertaining, and generally carrying some good moral in the tail of them. His grandfather before him must have been a man of rare humour, as appears from a world of droll stories which uncle Benjamin used to tell after him, and which his New England descendants to this day are wont to repeat with great glee. I must let the reader hear one or two of them. They will amuse him, by showing what strange things were done in days of yore by kings and priests in the land of our venerable forefathers.

It was his grandfather's fortune to live in the reign of Queen Mary, whom her friends called holy Mary, but her enemies bloody Mary. In the grand struggle for power between those humble followers of the cross, the catholics and the protestants, the former gained the victory, for which 'Te Deums' in abundance were sung throughout the land. And having been sadly rib-roasted by the protestants when in power, they determined, like good christians, now that the tables were turned, to try on them the virtues of fire and faggot. The Franklin family having ever been sturdy protestants, began now to be in great tribulation. "What shall we do to save our Bible?" was the question. After serious consultation in a family caucus, it was resolved to hide it in the close-stool; which was accordingly done, by fastening it, open, on the under side of the lid by twine threads drawn strongly across the leaves. When the grandfather read to the family, he turned up the aforesaid lid on his knees, passing the leaves of his Bible, as he read, from one side to the other. One of the children was carefully stationed at the door, to give notice if he saw the priest, or any of his frowning tribe, draw near. In that event, the lid with the Bible lashed beneath it, was instantly clapped down again on its old place.

These things may appear strange to us, who live under a wise republic, which will not suffer the black gowns of one church to persecute those of another. But they were common in those dark and dismal days, when the clergy thought more of creeds than of Christ, and of learning Latin than of learning love. Queen Mary was one of this gnostic generation, (who place their religion in the head, though Christ places it in the heart,) and finding it much easier to her unloving spirit, to burn human beings called heretics, than to mortify her own lust of popularity, she suffered her catholic to fly upon and worry her protestant subjects at a shameful rate. Good old uncle Benjamin used to divert his friends with another story, which happened in the family of his own aunt, who kept an inn at Eaton, Northamptonshire.

A most violent priest, of the name of Asquith, who thought, like Saul, that he should be doing "God service" by killing the heretics, had obtained letters patent from queen Mary against those people in the county of Warwick. On his way he called to dine at Eaton, where he was quickly waited on by the mayor, a strong catholic, to ask how the good work went on. Asquith, leaping to his saddle-bags, drew forth a little box, that contained his commission, which he flourished before the mayor, exclaiming with high glee, "Aye! there's that that will scorch the rogues!" Old Mrs. Franklin, under the rose a sturdy protestant, overhearing this, was exceedingly troubled; and watching her opportunity when the priest had stepped out with the mayor, slipped the commission out of the box, and put in its place a pack of cards, wrapped in the same paper. The priest returning in haste, and suspecting no trick, huddled up his box, and posted off for Coventry. A grand council of the saints was speedily convoked to meet him. He arose, and having with great vehemence delivered a set speech against the heretics, threw his commission on the table for the secretary to read aloud. With the eyes of the whole council on him, the eager secretary opened the package, when in place of the flaming commission, behold a pack of cards with the knave of clubs turned uppermost! A sudden stupefaction seized the spectators. In silence they stared at the priest and stared at one another. Some looking as though they suspected treachery: others as dreading a judgment in the case. Soon as the dumb-founded priest could recover speech, he swore by the Holy Mary, that he once had a commission; that he had received it from the queen's own hand. And he also swore that he would get another commission. Accordingly he hurried back to London, and having procured another, set off again for Coventry. But alas! before he got down, poor queen Mary had turned the corner, and the protestants under Elizabeth got the rule again. Having nothing now to dread, our quizzing old hostess, Mrs. Franklin, came out with the knavish trick she had played the priest, which so pleased the protestants of Coventry that they presented her a piece of plate, that cost fifty pounds sterling, equal, as money now goes, to a thousand dollars.

From an affair which soon after this took place there, it appears that Coventry, however famous for saints, had no great cause to brag of her poets.—When queen Elizabeth, to gratify her subjects, made the tour of her island, she passed through Coventry. The mayor, aldermen, and company hearing of her approach, went out in great state to meet her. The queen being notified that they wished to address her, made a full stop right opposite to a stage erected for the purpose, and covered with embroidered cloth, from which a ready orator, after much bowing and arms full extended, made this wondrous speech—"We men of Coventry are glad to see your royal highness—Lord how fair you be!"

To this the maiden queen, equal famed for fat and fun, rising in her carriage, and waving her lily white hand, made this prompt reply—"Our royal highness is glad to see you men of Coventry—Lord what Fools you be!"

CHAPTER III.

Our hero, little Ben, coming on the carpet‌—‌Put to school very young‌—‌Learns prodigiously‌—‌Taken home and set to candle-making‌—‌ Curious capers, all proclaiming "the Achilles in petticoats."

Dr. Franklin's father married early in his own country, and would probably have lived and died there, but for the persecutions against his friends the Presbyterians, which so disgusted him, that he came over to New England, and settled in Boston about the year 1682. He brought with him his English wife and three children. By the same wife he had four children more in America; and ten others afterwards by an American wife. The doctor speaks with pleasure of having seen thirteen sitting together very lovingly at his father's table, and all married. Our little hero, who was the fifteenth child, and last of the sons, was born at Boston the 17th day of January, 1706, old style.

That famous Italian proverb, "The Devil tempts every man, but the Idler tempts the Devil," was a favourite canto with wise old Josias; for which reason, soon as their little lips could well lisp