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"is this to the intolerant! Can any thing speak "more home? Why the writer appears in"spired."

And inspired he was, cried the Virginian. There is nothing in that parable, Sir, natural; every word of it was revealed. It all came to Franklin from Bishop Taylor. There, Sir; read and be convinced. This book was printed more than a century ago; it is a volume of Polemical Discourses.

New England Man (reading)." When Abra"ham sat at his tent door, according to his cus"tom, waiting to entertain strangers, he espied "an old man stooping and leaning on his staff, weary with age and travel, coming towards him, who was an hundred years of age. "received him kindly, washed his feet, provided 66 supper, and caused him to sit down; but, ob

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serving that the old man ate and prayed not, "nor begged for a blessing on his meat, he asked "him why he did not worship the God of hea"ven? The old man told him, that he worship

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ped the fire only, and acknowledged no other

"god. At which answer Abraham grew so zea

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lously angry, that he thrust the old man out of "his tent, and exposed him to all the evils of the

night, and an unguarded condition. When the "old man was gone, God called to Abraham, and "asked him where the stranger was? He replied, "I thrust him away, because he did not worship "thee. God answered him, I have suffered him

"these hundred years, although he dishonoured "me; and couldest not thou endure him one "night, and when he gave thee no trouble?"

The New England Man having done reading, the Virginian leaped from his seat, and, calling the waiter, exclaimed, "Atticus! Tell the ostler "to put the bay mare in the next stall to the Chickasaw, and, do you hear, give her half a gallon of oats more upon the strength of her having a new master."

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Here followed a hearty laugh from the audience; but the New England Man exhibited strong symptoms of chagrin. "Devil take Franklin," said he. "An impostor! a humbug." "If he

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"ever obtains the wish he expresses in his epitaph, of undergoing a ..ew edition in the next world, may his plagiarisms be omitted, that no "more wagers may be lost by them."

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"His epitaph, did you say, Sir?" cried the Virginian. "I hardly think he came by that ho"nestly."

New England Man. Sir, I will lay you my saddle of it; a bran new saddle. Jonathan Gregory, of Boston, imported it from London.

Virginian. My saddle, Sir, is imported too.-I swopped a double-barrelled gun for it with Mr. Racer, of Fairfax County. And I will not only lay my saddle against your's, Sir, that Franklin did not come honestly by his epitaph; but I will lay my snaffle-bridle, and my curb, my plated

stirrups and stirrup leathers--aye, and gale into the bargain.

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New England Man. Done! Go it! Now for your proof.

Virginian. Is there any gentleman in company besides myself, who understands Latin. If there is, let him have the goodness to speak.

New England Man. This gentleman who came with me from Salem, is not only a Latin, but a Greek scholar. He was reared at Cambridge.* He will talk Latin with Professor Willard an hour by the clock.

Virginian. Then, Sir, I believe, he will adjudge to me your imported saddle. Will you do me the favour to introduce me to your companion.

New England Man. This, Sir, is Mr. Meadows. He is the author of an Ode on the Clam Feast.+

Virginian. Mr. Meadows, give me leave. Within the cover of this book you will find the epitaph which passes as Franklin's. I entreat you to read it aloud.

Mr. Meadows (reading).

* An University near Boston.

+ The first emigrants to New England, appeased their hunger, upon landing on the shore of America, with some shell-fish they found on the beach, known in popular language by the name of Clams. The anniversary of this day is every year celebrated on the spot, by their descendants, who feast upon Clams.

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"THE BODY

of

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, Printer,

(Like the cover of an old book,

Its contents torn out,

And stript of its lettering and gilding)
Lies here, food for worms.

Yet the Work itself shall not be lost :

For it will (as he believ'd) appear once more

In a new

And more beautiful Edition,

Corrected and Amended

By

The Author."

New England Man. Well, Sir! And what objection can you make to this? Does it not breathe humility? Is it not a lecture on mortality?

Virginian. Sir, it was not honestly come by. Franklin robbed a little boy of it. The very words, Sir, are taken from a Latin epitaph written on a bookseller, by an Eton scholar. Mr. Meadows, do, Sir, read the epitaph which I have pasted on the other cover.*

Mr. Meadows (reads).

*If it should be objected that Franklin was ignorant of Latin, let it be told that, an English translation of this epitaph may be found in the Gentleman's Magazine, for February, 1736. The source, probably, from which Franklin got his thought.

"Vitæ volumine peracto,
Hic finis JACOBI TONSON,
Perpoliti Sosiorum principis :
Qui, velut obstetrix musarum,
In lucem edidit

Felices ingenii partus.
Lugete, scriptorum chorus,
Et frangite calamos ;

Ille vester, margine erasus, deletur !
Sed haec postrema inscriptio
Huic primæ mortis paginae
Imprimatur,

Ne prelo sepulchri commissus,
Ipse editor careat titulo :
Hic jacet bibliopola,

Folio vitæ delapso,

Expectans Novam Editionem

Auctiorem et Emendatiorem.”

Virginian. Well, Mr. Meadows, what say you? Is this accidental or studied similitude? What say you, Mr. Meadows?

Mr. Meadows. The saddle, Sir, is your's! On hearing this laconic, but decisive sentence pronounced by his friend, the New England Man grew outrageous-which served only to augment the triumph of the Virginian. Be pacified, cried he. I will give you another chance. I will lay you my boots against your's, that Franklin's pretended discovery of calming troubled waters by pouring upon them oil, may be found in the third book of Bede's History of the Church; or that his facetious essay on the air-bath, is poached word

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