inordinate lust for power, and a perfect recklessness as to the consequences to others, of their acts, are characteristics of these historically termed great men, whose names cluster on glory's brightest page, and as such must, with the memorial of their deeds, descend the stream of time. And the more enlightened the world becomes, the more will such characters and their principles be abhorred, until of each such man it will be said, that but for a halo of Tartarean fire, in the beautiful language of Cicero, "Idem Tumulus qui corpus ejus contexerat nomen etiam obruisset."

But there is a class of men whom it is duty to admire, whose example it is glory and honor and immortality to imitate. Those master spirits who have flashed up here and there, delegated by Providence to illuminate the darkness of the surrounding horizon; who have been born and lived and died for the good of mankind; who, unprompted by selfish passion, have not driven

"Destruction's ploughshare fiercely o'er creation,"

but have pursued "the even tenor of their way," ever actuated by the pure desires of acquiring knowledge for useful purposes, and of employing their natural and acquired talents for the advancement of their neighbors' happiness. Who does not feel an obligation imposed by the self-sacrificing example of such a one? Who does not feel that the voice of Conscience, calling to duty, is louder and clearer when she points to a valiant brother victorious o'er temptation? How eloquent is the bust of a great and good man! How sweet and persuasive is the invitation to follow its noble architype, even as he followed our common Master! Full wisely, therefore, have our fathers ornamented many of our public halls with statues, or with

portraits, of the venerable founders of our republic. Thus Washington and Franklin, Jefferson and Hamilton, being dead yet speak, from their exalted niches, with the still small voice that, unquenched by a tempest's tumult, comes with a thrilling tone home to our heart of hearts. In the following notice I will be the mere interpreter of Franklin's lecture to my fellow-countrymen; and as an interpreter for foreign witnesses in our courts of justice is required to take an oath of fidelity in his highly responsible office, I also swear, faithfully, so far as in me lies, to discharge my most holy trust, and to interpret truly to you that silent voice. that issues from the spirit world. The patriot's life shall speak.

Benjamin Franklin was born in Boston. The Athens of America produced her Socrates; and on the 17th day of January, 1706, he began to breathe the vital air. His father was fortunately a poor man. I say fortunately, for poverty has often proved the nurse of greatness, while hereditary opulence has enervated and unstrung many a soul of native vigor. The youngest son of a numerous family, he was by his parents designed for the clerical profession; and perhaps this intention to some extent regulated his infantile instructions, and did something to encourage his naturally meditative and philosophical turn of mind. The incidents of his early childhood are unrecorded; and, as in the case of most great men, we are not allowed to watch the first manifestations of feeling and development of thought-a study which would certainly be most interesting and instructive. At the age of eight years he was entered at a grammar school, where, during a year's attendance, his rapid advancement gave proof of an energetic intellect and an industrious disposi tion. Even at this early age he was considerate enough

to perceive the advantage of a good education, and that it cannot be obtained without patient application. On a reconsideration of his resolution to give Benjamin a liberal education, his father concluded that the incident expenses would be beyond his limited means. Accordingly he changed his mind, and with the intention of preparing him for business-life, transfered him to a school for writing and arithmetic. Doubtless master Franklin must have been much disappointed with this change in the plan of his life. Perhaps he was as much chagrined at the prospect of a necessary renunciation of his collegiate course, as the writer well remembers that he once was; but the sequel of this history proves that college instruction is not indispensable; that without its discipline a man may arise to the highest eminence and usefulness, by a resolute and persevering effort to do for himself what he is unable to procure tutors to do for him. Let no young man painfully regret that narrow circumstances prevent him from completing an academic course of study in the university. His inability so to do calls on him only for increased effort, for labor which he might, if blessed with every educational advantage, be tempted to forego. He might indulge himself in a ruinous mental sloth, an enervating indolence, which has been a self-inflicted curse and injury to many better men. Not that I would at all disparage the collegiate course of study, which is admirably calculated to afford almost inestimable assistance to a man in his efforts to educate himself: my recommendation to every young man is, by all means to avail himself of this aid, if able in any manner so to do, and to make great effort and many sacrifices in order to accomplish this truly desirable object; but if, after all his exertions, it is still beyond his reach, let him not despair but resolve heartily that he will be a man and

a well educated man, and Franklin's example shall be to him a model and an inspiring hope.

In the new school to which we have seen him removed, Benjamin learned sufficient of the chirographic, indispensable as a useful, frivolous as an ornamental art. In arithmetic his failure was complete-another instance of great intellect almost destitute of the faculty by the phrenologists called number. At the age of ten years, he was taken from school to assist his father in his business-that of a tallow-chandler and soap.boiler; a respectable but somewhat unpleasant occupation, with which we cannot wonder he soon became dissatisfied, and like many unexperienced boys wished ardently to try the sea. Strange fascination has a sailor's life for the young! Its activity, danger and excitement, are ever grateful as narrated by the old ocean-loving tar, or in the pages of those numerous nautical tales which abound in every popular library. The darker side of the picture, the unintermitting, exhausting labor, the innu. merable fearful perils, the fearful and severe suffering from hunger, thirst and cold, are forgotten or unthought of; and the boy, if unrestrained by a superior power, heedlessly rushes to the ship, bidding his home and native land farewell too often, alas! he bids a simultaneous and final adieu to all rational hope of future intellectual and moral advancement, and to all prospect of domestic or true social enjoyment. Wisely did old Franklin veto his son's mad project, and retain him in his own employ for the space of two years wearisome years, perhaps they were, but not without their invaluable lessons of patience and submission. To obey legitimate authority, however severe its requirements, and to endure our inevitable fortune with equanimity, however disagreeable to our desires, are very necessary but very seldom well-learned lessons.

In the year 1717, his brother James returned from England with a printing press and other articles, preparatory to establishing himself in the publishing business at Boston. After considerable reluctance on his part, Benjamin was bound to his brother as an apprentice. The custom of indenturing has become less common in this country than it formerly was: boys are very disinclined to anything like regular business, and fathers are foolishly indulgent. No better thing can be done for a son than to apprentice him, for a proper length of time, to some good mechanic; and no father should hesitate so to bind his boys, having first made a careful selection of the man to whom he thus intrusts so much. While with his brother, young Franklin filled up his leisure time by reading attentively such books as were accessible. He thus acquired an immense store of valuable information, and formed the habit worth more than any other to a young man. No man reads much and studiously, without becoming great. It is as impossible as that he should daily and judiciously train his muscles without becoming strong. Let every youth read, read, read, carefully-and his manhood will not fail to exhibit the harvest of golden thought. During his apprenticeship, Franklin published two little poems, which, though he afterwards became sadly ashamed of them, as men are quite likely to be of their juvenile productions, may be regarded as the first of his literary works. In 1720 his brother commenced the publication of a newspaper, for which the little typo wrote certain articles. Fearing these would not be published if their origin was known, he privately slipped them under the office door, where being found, they were readily printed, and the young author had the exquisite pleasure of hearing them universally praised. Becoming more and more displeased with his situation, he eloped and