certainly better acquainted than I can possibly be. I recommend him, however, to those civilities which every stranger, of whom one knows no harm, has a right to; and I request you will do him all the good offices, and show him all the favor, that, on further acquaintance, you shall find him to deserve.

I have the honor to be, etc.,

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.

Of his pithy sayings we cite a few examples:

He is ill clothed who is bare of virtue. Beware of meat twice boiled, and an old foe reconciled.

The heart of a fool is in his mouth, but the mouth of a wise man is in his heart.

He that is rich need not live sparingly, and he that can live sparingly need not be rich. He that waits upon fortune is never sure of a dinner.

A house without woman or firelight is like a body without soul or spirit.

Kings and bears often worry their keepers. Light purse, heavy heart.

He's a fool that makes his doctor his heir. Ne'er take a wife till thou hast a house (and a fire) to put her in.

To lengthen thy life, lessen thy meals.

He that drinks fast pays slow.

Franklin's short, popular pieces, which remind one most vividly of Engel's "Der Philosoph für die Welt" and of Peter Hebel's "Schatzkästlein," mentioned before, have been incorporated as bagatelles into the firm substance of American philosophy; some have furnished the English tongue with new expressions (“he has an axe to grind"; "you have paid too dear for your whistle"). With the parable of Jacques Montrésor, which is characteristic of Franklin's attitude as a man of the world as well as of his style, we shall conclude our brief sketch:

"An officer named Montrésor, a worthy man, was very ill. The curate of his parish, thinking him likely to die, advised him to make his peace with God, that he might be received into Paradise. 'I have not much uneasiness on the subject,' said Montrésor, 'for I had a vision last night which has perfectly tranquillized my mind.' 'What vision have you had?' said the priest. 'I was,' replied Montrésor, 'at the gate of Paradise, with a crowd of people who wished to enter, and St. Peter inquired of every one to what religion he belonged. One answered, "I am a Roman Catholic." "Well," said St. Peter, "enter, and take your place there among the Catholics." Another said he was of

the Church of England. "Well," said the Saint, "enter, and place yourself among the Anglicans.' A third said he was a Quaker. "Enter," said St. Peter, "and take your place among the Quakers.' At length, my turn being come, he asked me of what religion I was. "Alas!" said I, "poor Jacques Montrésor has none." "Tis pity," said the Saint; "I know not where to place you; but enter nevertheless, and place yourself where

2. Washington Irving (1783-1859) is famed among Americans, particularly among New Yorkers, as the author of "A History of New York by Diedrich Knickerbocker" (1809), that burlesque which in form is a reminder of the pseudonymous publications of Chatterton's time, while in substance it is not much more than the merry conceit of an original humorist, a mixture of harmless satire and effective caricature. Irving ostensibly discovers the unpublished writings of a Dutch investigator, Diedrich Knickerbocker, who busied himself with the history of the Dutch settlement of New Amsterdam, the New York of to-day, and he exercises the pious duty of an editor upon these literary remains. In the resulting book the heroic feats of the settlers are depicted as though

in a comic epic. The Americans have doubtless overrated this merry but not specially witty performance; understanding of the local allusions made it easier for them to seize all the points intended to be made by the writer. But the spirit of a great satirist hovers over the work, the spirit to which we owe the creation of Gulliver and the Lilliputians.

Among Europeans Irving is known chiefly through his "Sketch Book," which appeared ten years after the "History of New York." It consists of chats, sketches, tales, experiences, conceits, now fantastic, now sentimental, scarcely ever of any importance, but always most carefully elaborated.

The contents are as varied as would be the thoughts of a writer who travels leisurely from place to place, sojourns where he finds it agreeable, and sketches what strikes him. Most of the graceful pages originated in England, where Irving had a genial home with his brothers, and where he spent many years after 1815. He describes a visit to Roscoe, the historian, in Liverpool, chats about rural life in England, writes in elegiac tones about the royal poet of the "King's Quair," dreams in the hallowed spaces of Westminster Abbey, makes a detour to

Stratford-upon-Avon, tries in a number of sketches to fix the English spirit of Christmas, reflects upon the change of taste in literature, relates the poignant story of the widow and her son, jots down a characteristic of John Bull; and in the midst of all these commonplaces, as a side-issue as it were, he gives us those splendid productions, which may perhaps be termed the first examples of the American local tale-the tale of the soil-"Rip van Winkle" and "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow." The story of the indolent dreamer Rip, who, in order to escape from his Xantippe, wanders for days along the Hudson in the lonely gorges of the Catskill Mountains, and on his return to the village is not recognized by anybody and does not recognize any one himself, is familiar the world over; Rip van Winkle is a winged name like Falstaff or Tartuffe.

We can hardly understand to-day why the "Sketch Book" was so specially admired by Irving's contemporaries, why the rigorous critic of the Edinburgh Review praised it to the skies, why Byron learned it almost by heart; what is certain is that no other writer did as much to eradicate England's depreciation of everything American, on the one hand, and American