On Wine and the Elbow
Although he was a temperate man, Franklin built a wine collection in Paris that soon included more than 1,200 bottles of Bordeaux, champagne and sherry. In a letter and illustration to Madame Helvétius’s friend the Abbé Morellet, he has fun with some mock science to praise both wine and the human elbow.
C. JULY, 1779
From the Abbé Franklin to the Abbé Morellet.
You have often entertained me, my very dear friend, by your excellent drinking-songs; in return, I beg to edify you by some Christian, moral, and philosophical reflections upon the same subject.
In vino veritas, says the sage, Truth is in wine.
Before the days of Noah, men, having nothing but water to drink, could not discover the truth. Thus they went astray, became abominably wicked, and were justly exterminated by water, which they loved to drink.
The good man Noah, seeing that through this pernicious beverage all his contemporaries had perished, took it in aversion; and to quench his thirst God created the vine, and revealed to him the means of converting its fruit into wine. By means of this liquor he discovered numberless important truths; so that ever since his time the word to divine has been in common use, signifying originally, to discover by means of WINE. (VIN) Thus the patriarch Joseph took upon himself to divine by means of a cup or glass of wine, a liquor which obtained this name to show that it was not of human but divine invention (another proof of the antiquity of the French language, in opposition to M. Geebelin); nay, since that time, all things of peculiar excellence, even the Deities themselves, have been called Divine or Divinities.
We hear of the conversion of water into wine at the marriage in Cana as of a miracle. But this conversion is, through the goodness of God, made every day before our eyes. Behold the rain which descends from heaven upon our vineyards; there it enters the roots of the vines, to be changed into wine; a constant proof that God loves us, and loves to see us happy. The miracle in question was only performed to hasten the operation, under circumstances of present necessity, which required it.
It is true that God has also instructed man to reduce wine into water. But into what sort of water?—Water of Life. (Eau de Vie.) And this, that man may be able upon occasion to perform the miracle of Cana, and convert common water into that excellent species of wine which we call punch. My Christian brother, be kind and benevolent like God, and do not spoil his good drink.
He made wine to gladden the heart of man; do not, therefore when at table you see your neighbor pour wine into his glass, be eager to mingle water with it. Why would you drown truth? It is probable that your neighbor knows better than you what suits him. Perhaps he does not like water; perhaps he would only put in a few drops for fashion’s sake; perhaps he does not wish any one to observe how little he puts in his glass. Do not, then, offer water, except to children; ’t is a mistaken piece of politeness, and often very inconvenient. I give you this hint as a man of the world; and I will finish as I began, like a good Christian, in making a religious observation of high importance, taken from the Holy Scriptures. I mean that the apostle Paul counseled Timothy very seriously to put wine into his water for the sake of his health; but that not one of the apostles or holy fathers ever recommended putting water to wine.
P.S. To confirm still more your piety and gratitude to Divine Providence, reflect upon the situation which it has given to the elbow. You see in animals, who are intended to drink the waters that flow upon the earth, that if they have long legs, they have also a long neck, so that they can get at their drink without kneeling down. But man, who was destined to drink wine, must be able to raise the glass to his mouth. If the elbow had been placed nearer the hand (as in Figure 3), the part in advance would have been too short to bring the glass up to the mouth; and if it had been placed nearer the shoulder, (as in Figure 4) that part would have been so long that it would have carried the wine far beyond the mouth. But by the actual situation, (represented in Figure 5), we are enabled to drink at our ease, the glass going exactly to the mouth. Let us, then, with glass in hand, adore this benevolent wisdom;—let us adore and drink!
To George Washington
on Reputation
At times, Franklin worried that his enemies back home were hurting his reputation. In a ruminative mood, he wrote George Washington in 1780 a letter that ostensibly offered reassurance about the general’s reputation but clearly reflected his worries about his own. “I must soon quit the scene,” Franklin wrote, in an unusually introspective way, referring not to his post in France but his life in this world. Washington’s own great reputation in France, he said, was “free from those little shades that the jealousy and envy of a man’s countrymen and contemporaries are ever endeavoring to cast over living merit.” It was clear that he was trying to reassure not only Washington but also himself that history would treat them more kindly.
TO GEORGE WASHINGTON, MARCH 5, 1780
Sir,
I received but lately the letter your excellency did me the honor of writing to me in recommendation of the Marquis de Lafayette. His modesty detained it long in his own hands. We became acquainted however, from the time of his arrival at Paris, and his zeal for the honor of our country, his activity in our affairs here, and his firm attachment to our cause, and to you, impressed me with the same regard & esteem for him that your excellency’s letter would have done, had it been immediately delivered to me.
Should peace arrive after another campaign or two, and afford us a little leisure, I should be happy to see your excellency in Europe, and to accompany you, if my age & strength would permit, in visiting some of its ancient and most famous kingdoms. You would on this side of the sea, enjoy the great reputation you have acquired, pure and free from those little shades that the jealousy and envy of a man’s countrymen & contemporaries are ever endeavoring to cast over living merit. Here you would know, and enjoy, what posterity will say of Washington. For a 1000 leagues have nearly the same effect with 1000 years. The feeble voice of those groveling passions cannot extend so far either in time or distance. At present I enjoy that pleasure for you: as I frequently hear the old generals of this martial country, (who study the maps of America, and mark upon them all your operations) speak with sincere approbation & great applause of your conduct, and join in giving you the character of one of the greatest captains of the age.
I must soon quit the scene, but you may live to see our country flourish, as it will amazingly and rapidly after the war is over. Like a field of young Indian corn, which long fair weather & sunshine had enfeebled and discolored, and which in that weak state, by a thunder gust of violent wind, hail & rain seemed to be threatened with absolute destruction; yet the storm being past, it recovers fresh verdure, shoots up with double vigor, and delights the eye not of its owner only, but of every observing traveler.
The best wishes that can be formed for your health honor and happiness, ever attend you, from your excellency’s most obedient and most humble servant,
B. Franklin
John Adams
During his tenure in Paris, Franklin was joined by John Adams as a co-commissioner. When they had served together in Congress, Adams had initially distrusted Franklin, then gone through a blender of emotions: bemusement, resentment, admiration, and jealousy. So when he arrived in Paris, it was rather inevitable that he and Franklin would, as they did, enjoy and suffer a complex mix of disdain and grudging admiration for one another.
Some have found the relationship baffling: Did Adams resent or respect Franklin? Did Franklin find Adams maddening or solid? Did they like or dislike each other? The answer, which is not all that baffling because it is often true of the relationship between two great and strong people, is that they felt all of these conflicting emotions about each other, and more.
Adams, who was 42 when he arrived, was thirty years younger than Franklin. They were both very smart, but they had quite different personalities. Adams was unbending and outspoken and argumentative, Franklin charmin
g and tacitum and flirtatious. Adams was rigid in his personal morality and lifestyle, Franklin famously playful. Adams learned French by pouring over grammar books and memorizing a collection of funeral orations, Franklin (who cared little about the grammar) learned the language by lounging on the pillows of his female friends and writing them amusing little tales. Adams felt comfortable confronting people, while Franklin preferred to seduce them, and the same was true of the way they dealt with nations.
Their most significant rift occurred in 1780. Previously the tension had been based more on their differences in personality and style, but this one was caused by a fundamental disagreement over policy: whether or not America should show gratitude, allegiance and fealty to France. Franklin felt it should; Adams disagreed.
Foreign Minister Vergennes, not surprisingly, was eager to deal only with Franklin, and by the end of July 1780 he had exchanged enough strained correspondence with Adams that he felt justified in sending him a stinging letter that managed to be both formally diplomatic and undiplomatic at the same time. On behalf of the court of Louis XVI, he declared: “The King did not stand in need of your solicitations to direct his attentions to the interests of the United States.” In other words, France would not deal with Adams any more.
Vergennes informed Franklin of this decision and sent him copies of all his testy correspondence with Adams, with the request that Franklin “lay the whole before Congress.” Although Franklin could have, and perhaps should have, dispatched the letters without comment, he took the opportunity to write (“with reluctance”) a letter of his own to Congress that detailed his disagreement with Adams.
TO SAMUEL HUNTINGTON, AUGUST 9, 1780
Sir,
…Mr. Adams has given offence to the court here by some sentiments and expressions contained in several of his letters written to the Comte de Vergennes. I mention this with reluctance, though perhaps it would have been my duty to acquaint you with such a circumstance, even were it not required of me by the minister himself. He has sent me copies of the correspondence, desiring I would communicate them to Congress; and I send them herewith. Mr. Adams did not show me his letters before he sent them.
I have in a former letter to Mr. Lovell, mentioned some of the inconveniences that attend the having more than one minister at the same court, one of which inconveniencies is, that they do not always hold the same language, and that the impressions made by one and intended for the service of his constituents, may be effaced by the discourse of the other. It is true that Mr. Adams’s proper business is elsewhere, but the time not being come for that business, and having nothing else here wherewith to employ himself, he seems to have endeavored supplying what he may suppose my negotiations defective in.
He thinks, as he tells me himself, that America has been too free in expressions of gratitude to France; for that she is more obliged to us than we to her, and that we should show spirit in our applications. I apprehend that he mistakes his ground, and that this court is to be treated with decency and delicacy. The king, a young and virtuous prince, has, I am persuaded, a pleasure in reflecting on the generous benevolence of the action, in assisting an oppressed people, and proposes it as a part of the glory of his reign: I think it right to increase this pleasure by our thankful acknowledgements; and that such an expression of gratitude is not only our duty but our interest. A different conduct seems to me what is not only improper and unbecoming, but what may be hurtful to us.
Mr. Adams, on the other hand, who at the same time means our welfare and interest as much as I, or any man can do, seems to think a little apparent stoutness and greater air of independence and boldness in our demands, will procure us more ample assistance. It is for the Congress to judge and regulate their affairs accordingly.
M. De Vergennes, who appears much offended, told me yesterday, that he would enter into no further discussions with Mr. Adams, nor answer any more of his letters. He is gone to Holland to try, as he told me, whether something might not be done to render us a little less dependent on France. He says the ideas of this court and those of the people in America are so totally different, as that it is impossible for any minister to please both.
He ought to know America better than I do, having been there lately; and he may choose to do what he thinks will best please the people of America: but when I consider the expressions of Congress in many of their public acts, and particularly in their letter to the Chevalier de la Luzerne of the 24th of May last, I cannot but imagine that he mistakes the sentiments of a few for a general opinion. It is my intention while I stay here, to procure what advantages I can for our country, by endeavoring to please this court; and I wish I could prevent anything being said by any of our countrymen here that may have a contrary effect, and increase an opinion lately showing itself in Paris that we seek a difference, and with a view of reconciling ourselves to England: some of them have of late been very indiscreet in their conversations…
Despite their dispute, Franklin remained cordial, or retained the pretense of cordiality, in letters he wrote to Adams, who had gone to Holland to try to elicit a loan for America.
TO JOHN ADAMS, FEBRUARY 22, 1781
Sir,
I have lately made a fresh and strong application for more money. I have not yet received a positive answer. I have, however, two of the Christian Graces, Faith and Hope: But my Faith is only that of which the Apostle speaks, the Evidence of Things not seen. For in truth I do not see at present how so many bills drawn at random on our ministers in France, Spain and Holland, are to be paid; nor that any thing but omnipotent necessity can excuse the imprudence of it. Yet I think the bills drawn upon us by the Congress ought at all risks to be accepted. I shall accordingly use my best endeavors to procure money for their honorable discharge against they become due, if you should nor in the mean time be provided. And if those endeavors fail, I shall be ready to break, run away, or go to prison with you, as it shall please God…
With great Respect, I have the honor to be, Sir, Your most obedient and most humble Servant,
B. Franklin
Dialogue Between the Gout
and Mr. Franklin
One product of Franklin’s flirtations at Passy and Auteuil was the collection of fables and bagatelles—such as “The Ephemera” and “The Elysian Fields” mentioned above—that he wrote to amuse his friends. He published many of the bagatelles on the private press he installed at Passy. They were similar to little stories he had written in the past, such as “The Trial of Polly Baker,” but the dozen or so written in Passy have a slight French accent to them.
They have been the subject of much critical fawning. “Franklin’s bagatelles combine delight with moral truth,” declares Alfred Owen Aldridge. “They are among the world’s masterpieces of light literature.” Not exactly. Their value lies more in the glimpse they give into Franklin’s personality than in their literary merit, which is somewhat slight. They are jeux d’esprit, lively little five-finger exercises. Most display Franklin’s typical wry self-awareness, though some are a bit heavy-handed in their attempt to teach a moral lesson.
One of the most amusing is a dialogue he pretended to have with the gout. When he was bedridden by the malady in October 1780, Madame Brillon wrote him a poem, “Le Sage et la Goutte,” that implied that his malady was caused by his love for “one pretty mistress, sometimes two three, four.” Among the lines:
“Moderation, dear Doctor,” said the Gout,/ “Is no virtue for which you stand out./ You like food, you like ladies’ sweet talk,/ You play chess when you should walk…”
Franklin replied one midnight with a long and rollicking dialogue in which the gout chided him for his indulgences and also, since Franklin liked to be instructive, prescribed a course of exercise and fresh air. He sent it to Madame Brillon along with a letter that, in a cheeky way, rebutted her poem’s contention “that mistresses have had a share in producing this painful malady.” As he pointed out: “When I was a young man and enjoyed more of the favors of the fa
ir sex than I do at present, I had no gout. Hence, if the ladies of Passy had shown more of that Christian charity that I have so often recommended to you in vain, I should not be suffering from the gout right now.” Sex had become, by then, a topic of banter rather than of tension for them. “I will do my best for you, in a spirit of Christian charity,” she wrote back, “but to the exclusion of your brand of Christian charity.”
DIALOGUE BETWEEN THE GOUT AND MR. FRANKLIN, OCTOBER 22, 1780
MIDNIGHT, OCTOBER 22, 1780
Mr. F.: Eh! oh! eh! What have I done to merit these cruel sufferings?
The Gout: Many things; you have ate and drank too freely, and too much indulged those legs of yours in their indolence.
Mr. F.: Who is it that accuses me?
The Gout: It is I, even I, The Gout.
Mr. F.: What! my enemy in person?
The Gout: No, not your enemy.
Mr. F.: I repeat it, my enemy; for you would not only torment my body to death, but ruin my good name; you reproach me as a glutton and a tippler; now all the world, that knows me, will allow that I am neither the one nor the other.
The Gout: The world may think as it pleases; it is always very complaisant to itself, and sometimes to its friends; but I very well know that the quantity of meat and drink proper for a man who takes a reasonable degree of exercise, would be too much for another who never takes any.