our common composers of sermons can pretend to be; and
therefore I wish you would never miss the prayer days: yet
I do not mean you should despise sermons, even of the
preachers you dislike, for the discourse is often much better
than the man, as sweet and clear waters come through very
dirty earth. I am the more particular on this head, as you
seemed to express a little before I came away some
inclination to leave our church, which I would not have you
do."

I cannot more fitly close this imperfect sketch of America's
most illustrious citizen, than by quoting from a touching and
most affectionate letter from Mrs. Hewson (Margaret Stevenson),--one
of Franklin's worthiest, most faithful, and most valued
friends,--addressed to one of Franklin's oldest friends in England.

"We have lost that valued, venerable, kind friend whose
knowledge enlightened our minds and whose philanthropy warmed
our hearts. But we have the consolation to think that if a
life well spent in acts of universal benevolence to mankind,
a grateful acknowledgment of Divine favor, a patient
submission under severe chastisement, and an humble trust in
Almighty mercy, can insure the happiness of a future state,
our present loss is his gain. I was the faithful witness of
the closing scene, which he sustained with that calm
fortitude which characterized him through life. No repining,
no peevish expression ever escaped him during a confinement
of two years, in which, I believe, if every moment of ease
could be added together, would not amount to two whole
months. When the pain was not too violent to be amused, he
employed himself with his books, his pen, or in conversation
with his friends; and upon every occasion displayed the
clearness of his intellect and the cheerfulness of his
temper. Even when the intervals from pain were so short that
his words were frequently interrupted, I have known him to
hold a discourse in a sublime strain of piety. I say this to
you because I know it will give you pleasure.

"I never shall forget one day that I passed with our friend
last summer. I found him in bed in great agony; but when that
agony abated a little I asked if I should read to him. He
said yes; and the first book I met with was Johnson's 'Lives
of the Poets.' I read the 'Life of Watts,' who was a favorite
author with Dr