"That there is one God, who made all things."That he governs the world by his providence."That he ought to be worshipped by adoration, prayer, and thanksgiving."But that the most acceptable service to God is doing good to man."That the soul is immortal."And that God will certainly reward virtue and punish vice, either here or hereafter."
"That there is one God, who made all things.
"That he governs the world by his providence.
"That he ought to be worshipped by adoration, prayer, and thanksgiving.
"But that the most acceptable service to God is doing good to man.
"That the soul is immortal.
"And that God will certainly reward virtue and punish vice, either here or hereafter."
The real religion of his life consisted in the practice of virtue with a minimum of emotional imagination. His methodical mind found it convenient to tabulate the virtues in a manner more precise, as he thought, than they usually appear. His table is not without interest:—
"1.Temperance.—Eat not to dullness; drink not to elevation."2.Silence.—Speak not but what may benefit others or yourself; avoid trifling conversation."3.Order.—Let all your things have their places; let each part of your business have its time."4.Resolution.—Resolve to perform what you ought; perform without fail what you resolve."5.Frugality.—Make no expense but to do good to others or yourself; i.e., waste nothing."6.Industry.—Lose no time; be always employed in something useful; cut off all unnecessary actions."7.Sincerity.—Use no hurtful deceit; think innocently and justly; and if you speak, speak accordingly."8.Justice.—Wrong none by doing injuries or omitting benefits that are your duty."9.Moderation.—Avoid extremes; forbear resenting injuries so much as you think they deserve."10.Cleanliness.—Tolerate no uncleanliness in body, clothes, or habitation."11.Tranquillity.—Be not disturbed at trifles, or at accidents common or unavoidable."12.Chastity...."13.Humility.—Imitate Jesus and Socrates."
"1.Temperance.—Eat not to dullness; drink not to elevation.
"2.Silence.—Speak not but what may benefit others or yourself; avoid trifling conversation.
"3.Order.—Let all your things have their places; let each part of your business have its time.
"4.Resolution.—Resolve to perform what you ought; perform without fail what you resolve.
"5.Frugality.—Make no expense but to do good to others or yourself; i.e., waste nothing.
"6.Industry.—Lose no time; be always employed in something useful; cut off all unnecessary actions.
"7.Sincerity.—Use no hurtful deceit; think innocently and justly; and if you speak, speak accordingly.
"8.Justice.—Wrong none by doing injuries or omitting benefits that are your duty.
"9.Moderation.—Avoid extremes; forbear resenting injuries so much as you think they deserve.
"10.Cleanliness.—Tolerate no uncleanliness in body, clothes, or habitation.
"11.Tranquillity.—Be not disturbed at trifles, or at accidents common or unavoidable.
"12.Chastity....
"13.Humility.—Imitate Jesus and Socrates."
These virtues he has arranged in such an order that the acquisition of one naturally leads to the acquisition of the following. As regards chastity, he says himself: "The hard-to-be-governed passion of youth" had more than once led him astray. But there is every reason to suppose he exercised great self-control in this as in all other passions. We may remark here that Franklin had an illegitimate son, William, whom he reared in his own home, but who caused him great pain by siding with the Tories in the Revolution. An illegitimate son of William, born in London and named William Temple Franklin, adhered to the grandfather and was a great comfort to him in his old age. One other of these virtues Franklin could never acquire. He confesses sadly that try as he might he could never learn orderliness. But in general it may be said that few men have ever set before themselves so wise a law of conduct, and that still fewer men have ever come so near to attaining their ideal. This was both because his ideal was so thoroughly practical, and because he was a man of indomitable will who had genuinely chosen true Philosophy as his guide. "O vitæ Philosophia dux! O virtutum inda-gatrix expultrixque vitiorum!"—O Philosophy, thou guide of life! thou searcher out of virtues and expeller of vices!—he wrote as one of the mottoes on his little book of conduct, and to him the words were a living reality.
The virtues in Franklin were eminently human. Though dwelling in a community of Quakers and often identified with them, he looked to anything rather than the inner light for guidance, nor could he conceive the meaning of those "divine pleasures" which William Penn declared "are to be found in a free solitude." On his voyage home from London the boy philosopher had written in his journal: "Man is a sociable being, and it is, for aught I know, one of the worst of punishments to be excluded from society." Accordingly on his return to Philadelphia he began to cultivate seriously his "sociable being."
Among the few clubs famous in literature is the Junto which Franklin established in 1727, and which lasted for forty years. This club was a little circle of friends, never more than twelve, who met on Friday evenings to discuss matters of interest. Twenty-four questions were read, with a pause after each for filling and drinking a glass of wine. Two or three of these questions will suffice to show their general aim.
"1. Have you met with anything in the author you last read, remarkable, or suitable to be communicated to the Junto, particularly in history, morality, poetry, physic, travels, mechanic arts, or other parts of knowledge?"11. Do you think of anything at present, in which the Junto may be serviceable to mankind, to their country, to their friends, or to themselves?"15. Have you lately observed any encroachment on the just liberties of the people?"20. In what manner can the Junto, or any of them, assist you in any of your honorable designs?"
"1. Have you met with anything in the author you last read, remarkable, or suitable to be communicated to the Junto, particularly in history, morality, poetry, physic, travels, mechanic arts, or other parts of knowledge?
"11. Do you think of anything at present, in which the Junto may be serviceable to mankind, to their country, to their friends, or to themselves?
"15. Have you lately observed any encroachment on the just liberties of the people?
"20. In what manner can the Junto, or any of them, assist you in any of your honorable designs?"
Besides the answering of these questions, there were regular debates, declamations, and the reading of essays; while the wise Franklin took care always that no undue heat should enter into the proceedings. Singing and drinking and other amusements also claimed a fair share of the time. It is curious to observe that in his Autobiography Franklin half apologizes for mentioning the Junto, and declares that his reason for so doing was to show how the various members of the club aided him in his business. Were the Autobiography our only source of information, we might sum up the lessons of Franklin's life in the one wordThrift. The truth is that many of Franklin's schemes for public improvement first found a hearing in the secrecy of these friendly meetings.
Before returning to Franklin's active life, let us insert here an amusing epitaph which he composed about this time, and which has become justly famous:—
THE BODYOFBENJAMIN FRANKLINPRINTER(LIKE THE COVER OF AN OLD BOOKITS CONTENTS TORN OUTAND STRIPT OF ITS LETTERING AND GILDING)LIES HERE, FOOD FOR WORMS.BUT THE WORK SHALL NOT BE LOSTFOR IT WILL (AS HE BELIEVED)APPEAR ONCE MOREIN A NEW AND MORE ELEGANT EDITIONREVISED AND CORRECTEDBYTHE AUTHOR.
IV
THE SCIENTIST AND PUBLIC CITIZEN IN PHILADELPHIA
Franklin was twenty-two years old when he began business with Meredith. They had no capital, and in fact were in debt for part of their appurtenances. Meredith proved not only incompetent, but a hard drinker as well; so that Franklin, accepting the kindness of two friends who lent him the money, soon bought his partner out and conducted the shop alone. He prospered steadily, and in twenty years was able to retire from active business. From the beginning friends came to his aid: through a member of the Junto he got printing from the Quakers; by his careful work he drew away from old Bradford the public printing for the Assembly; he engaged assistants, and before many years was far the most important printer in the colonies. Besides his regular trade he was bookbinder, sold books and stationery, and dealt in soap and any other commodity that came handy. The description of his thrift we must give in his own words: "In order to secure my credit and character as a tradesman, I took care not only to be in reality industrious and frugal, but to avoid the appearance to the contrary. I dressed plain, and was seen at no places of idle diversion. I never went out a-fishing or shooting; a book indeed sometimes debauched me from my work, but that was seldom, was private, and gave no scandal; and to show that I was not above my business I sometimes brought home the paper I purchased at the stores through the streets on a wheelbarrow."
When Franklin became independent of Keimer he turned to his favorite project of establishing a newspaper. But in this case his usual habit of secrecy failed him, and knowledge of his plans reached Keimer's ears. Immediately his old master anticipated him by issuing proposals for a paper which he grandiloquently styled "The Universal Instructor in all Arts and Sciences, and Pennsylvania Gazette,"—an utterly absurd sheet, whose contents were taken chiefly from an encyclopædia recently published in London. To counteract this Franklin published in Bradford's paper, "The Mercury," a series of essays after the manner of Addison, to which he subscribed the name "Busy-Body." Other members of the Junto contributed to the series; and Keimer, being stung by their satire, replied with coarse abuse, and also with attempted imitation. But Keimer was quite unequal to the conflict, and after publishing thirty-nine numbers of the paper sold it for a small sum to Franklin and Meredith, and himself moved to the Barbadoes. Number 40, October 2, 1729, under the simple title of "The Pennsylvania Gazette," came from Franklin's press. The encyclopædic extracts were cut short, and in their stead appeared what news could be gathered, with occasional clever essays such as only Franklin could write. It was for the times a good paper, and the printing was admirably done.
With prosperity Franklin began to think of matrimony. A family of Godfreys lived in the same house with him, and now Mrs. Godfrey undertook to make a match between him and the daughter of a relative of hers. Franklin's account of this affair for its coolness and placidity may almost be compared with Gibbon's "I sighed as a lover, I obeyed as a son." On learning that the girl's parents could not or would not give with her enough money to pay off his debts, the gallant suitor at once and irrevocably withdrew.
He then looked about him for another match, but found to his chagrin that an adventurous printer could not command an agreeable wife and a dowry at the same time. Being determined to marry, that he might bring order into his life, he at last turned to Miss Read, with whom he had maintained a friendly correspondence, and notwithstanding the difficulties in the way married her on the 1st of September, 1730. If he rejected Miss Godfrey because she brought no dowry with her, he praised his wife chiefly because she aided him in his economies. "He that would thrive must ask his wife," he quotes, and congratulates himself that he has a wife as much disposed to frugality as himself. She helped in the business; they kept no idle servants; their table was plain and simple, their furniture of the cheapest. His breakfast for a long time was bread and milk, and he ate it out of a twopenny earthen porringer with a pewter spoon. "But mark," he adds, "how luxuries will enter families and make a progress despite of principles: being called one morning to breakfast, I found it in a china bowl, with a spoon of silver! They had been bought for me without my knowledge by my wife, and had cost her the enormous sum of twenty-three shillings, for which she had no other excuse or apology to make but that she thoughtherhusband deserved a silver spoon and china bowl as well as any of his neighbors. This was the first appearance of plate and china in our house, which afterward, in a course of years as our wealth increased, augmented gradually to several hundred pounds in value."
Mrs. Franklin's temper was not of the serenest, and her manners perhaps were not such as would have honored him had she followed him into the great world; but she made him a good wife,—and we need not repeat the tattle which we are told is still current among some of the high families of Philadelphia. They had two children,—a son, the idol of his father's heart, who died as a child; and a daughter, who married Richard Bache, and is the ancestress of a large family.
In this happy home, and as his business prospered, Franklin found more and more time for study and self-improvement. In 1733 he began the acquisition of languages, teaching himself to read French fluently, and then passing on to Italian and Spanish. Chess was always a favorite amusement with him; and we can imagine the grave philosopher playing a cautious and invulnerable game, with now and then, when least expected, a brilliant sally. But his conscience seems always to have protested against the waste of time involved, and he now made use of the game to forward his studies. With his favorite antagonist he agreed that the victor in each game should impose some task in Italian, which the other on his honor was to complete before the next meeting. As his opponent was a pretty even match for him they both made steady progress in the language. In Latin he had had a year's instruction at school, and later in life he dabbled a little in that language; but his knowledge of the classics was always superficial, and he seems to have entertained something like a spite against them.
In 1732 Franklin began the publication of an almanac under the name of Richard Saunders, which he continued for twenty-five years, and which gained immense popularity as Poor Richard's Almanac. It was the flourishing time of such publications. Since the year 1639, when Stephen Daye printed his first almanac at Cambridge, these annual messages had increased in number until after theology they became perhaps the most genuine feature of colonial literature. And from the first they displayed the sort of shrewdness and humor which have always been characteristic of the American mind. So, too, the bulk of Poor Richard's production was humor, sometimes blunt and coarse, and sometimes instinct with the finest irony. Perhaps the best of Poor Richard's jokes is that played at the expense of Titan Leeds, his rival in Philadelphia. In the first issue Mr. Saunders announces the imminent death of his friend Titan Leeds: "He dies, by my calculation, made at his request, on October 17, 1733, 3 ho., 29 m.,p.m., at the very instant of the☌; of☉and☿.1By his own calculation, he will survive till the 26th of the same month. This small difference between us we have disputed whenever we have met these nine years past; but at length he is inclined to agree with my judgment. Which of us is most exact a little time will now determine. As, therefore, these Provinces may not longer expect to see any of his performances after this year, I think myself free to take up the task." Naturally Mr. Titan Leeds objected with strenuous voice to this summary manner of being shuffled out of the world; and Franklin's yearly protest that Leeds is really dead, and his appeal to the degenerating wit of Leeds's almanac to prove his assertion, is one of the most successful and malicious jokes ever perpetrated. We ought to add, however, that this venomous jest is borrowed bodily from Dean Swift's treatment of the poor almanac-maker, Partridge. Indeed it might be said of Franklin, as Molière said of himself, that he took his own wherever he found it.
But what gave the almanac its permanent fame was the cleverness of the maxims scattered through its pages. These wise saws Franklin gathered from far and wide, often, however, reshaping them and marking them, with the stamp of his peculiar genius. As might be expected, they are chiefly directed to instill the precepts of industry and frugality. On ceasing to edit the almanac in 1757 Franklin gathered together the best of these proverbs and wove them into a continuous narrative, which he pretends to have heard spoken at an auction by an old man called Father Abraham. This speech of Father Abraham became immediately famous, was reprinted in England, was translated into the languages of Europe, and still lives. It made the name of Poor Richard a household word the world over.
Franklin, however, had many intellectual interests besides reading and writing. He was always interested in music, himself playing the guitar and harp and violin; and one of his proudest achievements was the perfection of a musical instrument called the armonica, which consisted of a series of glasses so designed as to give forth the notes of the musical scale when chafed with the moistened finger.
He was moreover sensitive in his own way to the various spiritual movements that swept over the country. This was the period of wild revivals, when religion, entering into the converted soul with inconceivable violence, found expression in gasping shrieks, rigid faintings, and strong convulsions; and the leader of this movement, strange as it may seem, was a warm friend of Franklin's. George Whitefield first visited Philadelphia in 1739, and immediately filled the city with enthusiasm by his powerful oratory. Franklin was astonished at the hold he got on the people, especially as he assured them they were naturally half beasts and half devils; but our philosopher admits that he himself succumbed once to the preacher's spell. Whitefield was preaching a begging sermon for a project which Franklin did not approve, and the latter made a silent resolve that he would not contribute. He had in his pocket a handful of copper money, three or four silver dollars, and five pistoles in gold. As the orator proceeded, he began to soften and concluded to give the copper. Another stroke of eloquence made him ashamed of that and determined him to give the silver; and the peroration was so admirable that he emptied his pocket wholly into the collector's dish, gold and all. But he was never too much carried away to omit analyzing and observing; and on one occasion, when Whitefield was preaching in the open air, he calculated by a clever experiment that the speaker might be heard by more than thirty thousand persons. Nor did he suffer Whitefield's cant phrases to pass unchallenged. At one time he invited the preacher to stop at his house, and Whitefield in accepting declared that if Franklin made the kind offer for Christ's sake he should not miss of a reward. To which the philosopher replied: "Don't let me be mistaken; it was not forChrist'ssake, but foryoursake."
This intimate acquaintance with Whitefield forms something like a bond of union between Franklin and his only intellectual compeer, Jonathan Edwards; and the different attitude of the two men towards the wandering revivalist is a good illustration of the great contrast in their characters. If Franklin may in some ways be called the typical American, yet the lonely, introverted, God-intoxicated soul of Edwards stands as a solemn witness to depths of understanding in his countrymen which Dr. Franklin's keen wit had no means of fathoming. But in one respect the two minds were alike: they were both acute observers of nature, and we have only to read Edwards's treatise on spiders, written when he was twelve years old, and to follow his later physical investigations, which indeed foreshadowed some of Franklin's electrical discoveries, to learn how brilliant a part he might have played in science if his intelligence had not been troubled by the terrible theology of the day. As for Franklin, we have seen the inquisitive bent of his mind in childhood, and as he grew older the habit of observing and recording and theorizing became his master passion. Though scarcely a professional scientist, his various discoveries in natural history and his mechanical inventions brought great renown to him as a man, and were even an important factor in the national struggle for independence.
Nothing was too small or too great to attract his investigating eyes. All his life he was interested in the phenomena of health and in the care of the body, and even as a boy, it will be remembered, he had experimented in the use of a vegetarian diet. He had his own theory in regard to colds, maintaining that they are not the result of exposure to a low temperature, but are due to foul air and to a relaxed state of the body,—as in general they no doubt are. His letters are full of clever protests against the common theory, and at times he was brought by his opinions into amusing conflict with the habits of other persons. On one occasion in a tavern he was compelled to occupy the same bed with John Adams, who, being an invalid and afraid of night air, shut down the window. "Oh!" says Franklin, "don't shut the window, we shall be suffocated." Adams answered that he feared the evening air. Dr. Franklin replied, "The air within the chamber will soon be, and indeed now is, worse than that without doors. Come, open the window and come to bed, and I will convince you. I believe you are not acquainted with my theory of colds." Whereupon Adams got into bed, and the Doctor began an harangue upon air and cold, respiration and perspiration, with which the Bostonian was so much amused that he soon fell asleep and left Franklin and his philosophy together. The effect of drafts on chimneys was just as interesting to our philosopher as their effect on the human system, and it was one of his diversions when visiting the great houses of England and Europe to cure smoky fireplaces. From chimneys to stoves is an easy step, and the invention of the so-called Pennsylvania stove is one of his best known achievements.
All his life he was an observer of the weather, and a student of the winds and tides. His first discovery in natural history was an observation of the fact that storms move against the wind, that is, for instance, that a northeast storm along the coast is felt at Philadelphia earlier than at Boston. He made a careful study of the temperature of the gulf stream in the Atlantic; and in a letter written when he was seventy-nine years old he gives a long account of his inventions and observations in nautical matters.
But his discoveries in electricity quite overshadow all his other work of the sort, and on them must rest his real claim to scientific renown. For many years the world had been amusing itself with various machines for making sparks and giving shocks, and after the discovery of the Leyden jar, in 1745, the manipulation of electrical toys and machines became the rage among scientists and even among the people of society. Just about this time a friend in England sent Franklin specimens of the glass tubes used to create electricity by friction, and immediately Franklin's inquisitive mind was fired to take up the new study. So fully indeed was his attention engrossed by the series of experiments he now undertook, alone and with several investigating friends in the city, that business became irksome to him and he retired from active management of the printing house. Besides making many ingenious toys and showy experiments, Franklin added three contributions of real importance to science.
1. He anticipated Faraday in the discovery that the electricity in a charged Leyden jar resides on the glass and not on the metal coatings. He, however, made no generalizations from this discovery.
2. He advanced the fluid theory of electricity, recognizing clearly the dual nature of the varieties commonly called positive and negative from the mathematical symbols used to express them.
3. He established the identity of lightning and electricity.
To understand the importance of this last discovery we must remember with what terror the world had hitherto regarded this bewildering apparition of the sky. It was not so much the dread of feeling above one an irresponsible power subject to a law that knows no sympathy with human life, as the more debasing fear of superstition, that sees in the red thunderbolt a deadly instrument of vengeance hurled by the hand of an angry deity, and that loosens the inmost sinews of a man's moral courage. With the knowledge that lightning is only a magnified electrical spark, fell one of the last strongholds of false religion. And there is something eminently fit in the fact that this lurking mystery of the heavens was finally exploded by Dr. Franklin, the exponent of common sense.
I am told by a specialist that the neatness and thoroughness of the reasoning by which Franklin established his theory before proceeding to experimentation are most laudable, and I am sure his letters of explanation have a literary charm not often found in scientific writing. The paper in which Franklin developed his theory and showed how it might be tested by drawing lightning from the clouds by means of a pointed wire set up on a steeple, was sent to his friend in England, and there printed; and at the suggestion of the great Buffon the same paper was translated into French. The pamphlet created a sensation in France, and the proposed experiment was actually performed in the presence of the king. Before the report, however, of the successful experiment reached Franklin he had himself verified his theory, using a kite to attain an altitude, as there was no spire or high building in Philadelphia. Taking his son with him, he went to an old cow house in the country, before a storm, and there, to catch the electric fluid, sent up his kite made of an old silk handkerchief. A wire extended from the upright stick of the kite, and this was connected with the cord, which when wet acted as a good conductor. The part of the cord held in his hand was of silk, and between this and the wet hempen cord a key was inserted and connected with a Leyden jar. How successful the experiment proved to be, all the world knows. Somehow all the important events of Franklin's life are dramatic and picturesque, and this scene, especially, of the philosopher in the storm drawing down the very thunderbolts of heaven has always had a fascination for the popular mind. The detailed story of the experiment became public only through Franklin's conversation with his friends. When he learned that his theory had been previously verified in France, his modesty was so great that in writing he simply told how the experiment might be performed with a kite, never that he himself had actually accomplished it. In consequence of this discovery he was at once elected a member of the Royal Society of London, Yale and Harvard gave him the honorary degree of master of arts, and everywhere he was celebrated as the foremost philosopher of the day.
When the time comes we shall see that Franklin's scientific fame was a real aid to him in his diplomatic career; now we must turn our eyes backward and trace from the beginning his slow rise in political and civic power. And it is a peculiar feature of the day and of Franklin's individual character that many of his reforms took their start in the gayety of social intercourse. There was nothing morose, nothing stern, in our genial philosopher. Though always temperate, his vivacity and easy politeness made him welcome in any merry company of the day. He could sing with the best of the young blades and even compose his own ditties; and one of these songs, "The Old Man's Wish," he tells us he sang at least a thousand times. The chorus of the song is characteristic enough to be quoted:—
"May I govern my passions with absolute sway,Grow wiser and better as my strength wears away,Without gout or stone, by gentle decay;"
"May I govern my passions with absolute sway,Grow wiser and better as my strength wears away,Without gout or stone, by gentle decay;"
"May I govern my passions with absolute sway,
Grow wiser and better as my strength wears away,
Without gout or stone, by gentle decay;"
and another ballad in praise of his wife still has a kind of popularity:—
"Of their Chloes and Phyllises poets may prate,I sing my plain country Joan,These twelve years my wife, still the joy of my life,Blest day that I made her my own."
"Of their Chloes and Phyllises poets may prate,I sing my plain country Joan,These twelve years my wife, still the joy of my life,Blest day that I made her my own."
"Of their Chloes and Phyllises poets may prate,
I sing my plain country Joan,
These twelve years my wife, still the joy of my life,
Blest day that I made her my own."
Franklin's first public improvement carries us back to the early leathern-apron days of the Junto. Books were a rare commodity among the frugal members of that club, and for a while they increased their resources by keeping all their volumes together in the club room for common use. But this plan proving hardly feasible, Franklin in the year 1731 drew up proposals for a city library. His method of arousing public interest in the scheme was one to which he always had recourse on such occasions, and is a credit to his modesty as well as to his shrewdness. "I put myself," he says, "as much as I could out of sight, and stated it as a scheme of a number of friends, who had requested me to go about and propose it to such as they thought lovers of reading." He succeeded, as he always did in his projects, and the library, still an honored institution of Philadelphia, is the parent of all the subscription libraries of the country.
Through the aid of the Junto, also, Franklin set in motion another project. As a boy he had seen the first fire company started in Boston, and now that his Quaker home had grown to be a thriving city, he undertook to introduce the same system there. No doubt many of our readers have seen the curious relics of these colonial fire companies,—old leathern buckets stamped with various devices and with the owner's name, which were used to pass water rapidly from hand to hand. The companies had a social as well as a useful aim, so that families were proud to preserve such memorials of the old days.
Owing to the wretched system in vogue, the night watch of the city had fallen into a deplorable state, the watchmen consisting of a set of ragamuffins who passed their nights in tippling and left the town to take care of itself. To remedy this evil Franklin made use of the Junto and of his paper, "The Gazette," and once more his efforts were successful.
It seemed, indeed, as if there were no limits to his activity. At different times he bent his energies to getting the streets paved, to improving the lighting of the city, to introducing various novelties in agriculture, and to assisting other projects, such as the establishment of the Pennsylvania hospital. More important, perhaps, than these was the founding of the academy which has since developed into the University of Pennsylvania. As early as 1743 we find Franklin regretting that there was no convenient college where he might send his son to be educated; and in 1749 he took up the matter seriously, publishing a pamphlet which he called, "Proposals relating to the Education of Youth in Pennsylvania." Nor did his zeal end here. He continued to urge on the project, and in a short time the money was raised and the school actually opened. Franklin was for more than forty years a trustee of the institution, and took just pride in the good which it accomplished for the community. His purpose in one respect, however, was foiled; he was an ardent advocate of English and the sciences in education, and would have been glad to have the study of Latin and Greek utterly banished from the schools. Fortunately in this matter public opinion was too strong for him, and he was obliged to succumb to the regular curriculum. For some reason, whether because of early lack of training in these studies or because his mind was of such a sort as to be completely absorbed in the present, he was all his life violently prejudiced against the classics, and on his very death-bed one of his last acts was to compose a mocking diatribe against the use of those languages. It is one of the few cases where his judgment was marred, not by the limitations of his intelligence, but a lack of the deeper imagination,—where he applied his footrule of utility to measure quantities beyond its reach.
With Franklin's increasing prosperity and popularity his influence in matters political grew more and more dominant. His first recognition in this field was in 1736, when he was chosen clerk of the General Assembly,—a position which he continued to hold until he was elected a member of the Assembly itself. He found this office very tedious, but amused himself during the long debates by constructing magic squares of figures and by other diversions of the sort. Constant to his practice he lets us know that he retained the position chiefly because it enabled him to get control of the public printing, and once when threatened by the advent of a new member with loss of this lucrative employment he saved himself by his usual recourse to honorable stratagem. Having heard that this gentleman had in his library a certain very scarce and curious book, Franklin wrote him a note expressing a desire to read the volume and asking to borrow it for a few days. The book came immediately, and the two students were at once bound together in friendship. "This is another instance," Franklin adds, "of the truth of an old maxim I had learned, which says: 'He that has once done you a kindness will be more ready to do you another than he whom you yourself have obliged.'"
Other positions came to Franklin in due time. The very next year he was made postmaster of Philadelphia, and filled the office so well that some years later he was put at the head of the postal system for the colonies. This gave him an opportunity to become familiar with the political affairs of the whole country and enhanced his usefulness very much.
What first brought him into real prominence was his activity during the troublesome times that now followed with the Indians. England was at war with France, and as usual the combatants stirred up the savages to commit all kinds of atrocities. Franklin was much incensed that the peace-loving Quakers of his colony should refuse to make any provision for defense against the Indians on the western frontier or against possible attacks of the French from the river. His indignation was increased by a visit to Boston in 1746, where he found the people in a state of warlike fervor after the conquest of Louisburg; and on returning home he wrote an eloquent pamphlet, called "Plain Truth," to rouse the colony to a sense of its peril. Despite the half-hearted opposition of the Quakers in the Assembly companies were raised, cannon, by the shrewd policy of Franklin, were got from New York, and the promoter of the movement was even asked to act as colonel of the troops,—an honor which he declined. One of Franklin's friends now warned him that the Quakers in the Assembly would dismiss him from his position as clerk and advised him to resign at once to avoid the disgrace. Franklin's reply, which he was fond of quoting in after life, shows the sturdy nature of the man: "I shall neverask, neverrefuse, nor everresignan office." As it happened, however, he was again chosen unanimously at the next election, and we may suppose that he was keen enough to know with whom he had to deal. The good Quakers would not fight, but they were not always averse to have some one do their fighting for them.
We are approaching the tumultuous times of the Seven Years' War, when the sound of cannon was indeed heard round the world, and when the prowess of England's arms added India and Canada to her empire. In 1752 Franklin, who was now a member of the legislature, was sent, together with the speaker of the Assembly, to confer with the Indians of Ohio; and if no important results came from the conference it at least helped to give Franklin an insight into Indian character such as few men possessed. Two years later, when actual war became imminent, he was chosen one of the commissioners from Pennsylvania to meet those of the other colonies at Albany and consult on measures of common defense. Any one might see that the colonies would be stronger united than separated, and several of the commissioners came prepared with proposals of union. Franklin had already published in his "Gazette" an article on the subject, to which he had added a wood-cut showing a snake cut in thirteen pieces with the deviceJoin or Die. On the way to Albany he had drawn up a plan of union which pleased the Congress, and which resembled very much the form of union afterwards adopted during the Revolution; but as Franklin observes, "Its fate was singular; the Assemblies did not adopt it, as they all thought there was too much prerogative in it; and in England it was judged to have too much of the democratic." Instead of this scheme the London Board of Trade devised a plan of their own which, besides other objectionable features, involved the deplorable principle of taxing the colonies without their consent. It is interesting to find Franklin the next winter in Boston discussing the improprieties of this plan with Governor Shirley, and it has been truly observed that his arguments include almost all that was later brought out when the question of taxation without representation became a burning question.
In 1755 we find Franklin connected with an event which first brought Washington into prominence. That was the year of Braddock's unfortunate campaign, and the Assembly of Pennsylvania, which had refused to grant money for the war and now feared that Braddock would take revenge by ravaging the colony, sent Franklin into Maryland to consult with the general and pacify him if possible. It is needless to say that Franklin succeeded. By cunning advertisements and appeals to the farmers in Pennsylvania he got wagons and teams for the army; but to do this he had to pledge himself for a considerable sum of money, his own credit being higher than that of the government, and after the general rout in which many of the wagons and horses were lost he was compelled to pay out large sums of money for which he was never entirely reimbursed. He also persuaded the Assembly of Pennsylvania to provide the younger officers of the regiment with horses and stores for the campaign, although to Washington, as we know, all this accumulation of provisions for such an expedition seemed no better than a nuisance. Franklin, too, had his fears, and even went so far as to caution Braddock against the ambuscades of the Indians. Braddock smiled at his ignorance, and replied: "These savages may indeed be a formidable enemy to your raw American militia, but upon the king's regular and disciplined troops, sir, it is impossible they should make any impression." Franklin tells us he was conscious of the impropriety of disputing with a military man in matters of his profession, and said no more. The story of Braddock's defeat is only too well known; but to Franklin at least the campaign brought some profit. When later he went to England he found that the general's account of his intelligence and generosity had added considerably to his reputation.
The failure of the expedition had left the western frontier open to the savage raids of the Indians, and Pennsylvania, owing to her unprotected condition, suffered more than the other colonies. Franklin came to the rescue with a bill to raise volunteers which was carried through the Assembly; troops were quickly organized, and the philosopher was himself appointed general. He was two months in the field and conducted himself with admirable prudence, although he did not undergo the test of actual fighting. After that time he was recalled by the governor to Philadelphia, for the Assembly was about to meet and his services were needed at home.
The old trouble between the proprietary governor and the Assembly had now reached an acute stage. The two sons of William Penn, into whose hands the colony had descended, pursued a narrow and selfish policy, forcing the governor to veto every bill for raising money unless the estates owned by the proprietors were exempted from taxation. From the beginning Franklin had stood with the popular party in opposing these regulations, yet curiously enough had always been a favorite with the governors. These magistrates were bound to follow the proprietors' will under penalty of being recalled; but on the other hand their salary was dependent on the pleasure of the Assembly, and they may well have clung to a wise and tolerant intermediary like Franklin. Nothing, however, could now allay the hostile feelings. The Assembly voted money for immediate defense under the conditions imposed, but at the same time declared that the measure was not to be held as a precedent for the future; and Franklin was sent to England to treat with the proprietaries in person, and if necessary with the Crown.
V
FIRST AND SECOND MISSIONS TO ENGLAND
Franklin reached London July 27, 1757, when he was fifty-one years old. He remained in England five years, and during that period his life was one of manifold interests and vexations. His business with the Penns first engaged his attention; but from those stubborn gentlemen he got nothing but insolence and delays. After much manœuvring the dispute was brought before a committee of the Privy Council, where the Pennsylvania Assembly through its representative virtually won its case. The proprietary estates were made subject to taxation, and this bone of contention was for a time removed. It was indeed a great victory for the Philadelphia printer; but perhaps its chief value was the training it gave him for the more important diplomatic negotiations that were to come later. There was that in Franklin's nature which made him an ideal diplomatist. Under the utmost candor and simplicity he concealed a penetration into character and a skill in using legitimate chicanery that rarely missed their mark. Then, too, he was persistent: what he undertook to do he never left until it was done. Though far from being an orator, he wielded a pen that for clearness and logical pointedness has scarcely been surpassed, and his powers of irony and sarcasm were worthy of Swift himself.
Among other subjects which engaged Franklin's pen at this time was a question of vital interest, as he thought, to the empire. Under the masterly guidance of the great Pitt, England had come out victorious in the struggle with France, and the government was now debating whether Canada should be retained or given back to the French. The chief argument for surrendering the province was ominous of the future. "A neighbor that keeps us in some awe is not always the worst of neighbors.... If we acquire all Canada, we shall soon find North America itself too powerful and too populous to be governed by us at a distance." To this timid reasoning, which was attributed to William Burke, Franklin replied in a pamphlet, discussing the whole question with the utmost acumen, displaying the future greatness of the empire in America, and denying that the colonies would ever revolt. Touching this last apprehension he says: "There are so many causes that must operate to prevent it that I will venture to say a union amongst them for such a purpose is not merely improbable, it is impossible.... When I say such a union is impossible, I mean without the most grievous tyranny and oppression....The waves do not rise but when the wind blows.... What such an administration as the Duke of Alva's in the Netherlands might produce, I know not; but this, I think, I have a right to deem impossible." Strange words to come from Franklin in those days; but it is thought they were of considerable influence in the final decision of the question. Franklin indeed was always fond of prophesying the future greatness of America, and again in the diplomatic debates after the revolutionary war he long insisted that Canada should be severed from England and joined to the thirteen States.
But our philosopher had much to occupy him besides politics. He had taken lodgings at No. 7 Craven Street with a Mrs. Stevenson, in whom and in whose daughter he found warm and congenial friends. His correspondence with "Dear Polly," the daughter, contains some of his most entertaining letters; and he even planned, but unsuccessfully, to make her the wife of his son William. His fame as a scientist had preceded him, and introduced him into the society of many distinguished men in England and Scotland, among whom his genial nature freely expanded. And nothing could stop the activity of his mind, not even sickness. For eight weeks he struggled with a fever, but the letter to his wife conveying the story of his illness reads as if he were almost willing to undergo such an experience for the opportunity of studying pathology which it offered.
At last he was ready to return home. The University of St. Andrews had conferred on him the degree of Doctor of Laws, and afterwards Oxford had done the same. He had succeeded in his mission, his son had been appointed governor of New Jersey, and he looked forward to a life of honorable ease in his adopted city. Just before sailing he wrote to Lord Kames: "I am now waiting here only for a wind to waft me to America, but cannot leave this happy island and my friends in it without extreme regret, though I am going to a country and a people that I love. I am going from the old world to the new, and I fancy I feel like those who are leaving this world for the next. Grief at the parting, fear of the passage, hope of the future,—these different passions all affect their minds at once, and these havetenderedme down exceedingly."
Peace had come to Europe in 1763, but not to America. The Indians, who had been aroused by European intrigue, were not so easily pacified, and western Pennsylvania especially continued to suffer from their ravages. The men of the frontier banded together for retaliation, and unfortunately their revenge equaled the brutality of the red savages. Religious odium added bitterness to the passions. The Scotch-Irish Presbyterians of the west, enraged at the supineness of the eastern Quakers, made the extermination of the Indians a point of religion. The horror reached its climax when the good people of Paxton in cold blood massacred twenty helpless and innocent Indians, and then with a large following marched towards Philadelphia with the avowed purpose of murdering in the name of an angry God one hundred and forty peaceful Moravian Indians. The governor, a nephew of the proprietaries, came, as all men did, to Franklin in his perplexity; he even lodged in Franklin's house, and concerted with him hourly on the means of repelling the invaders. The "Paxton boys" had reached Germantown. The city was in a panic, and there was no time to lose. Franklin first got together a regiment of militia, and then, with three other gentlemen, went out to Germantown to remonstrate with the fanatics. His mission was successful, and the insurrection was quelled; but Franklin himself had gained many enemies by his action. The people were largely in favor of the Paxton rioters; and the governor, now relieved of his immediate fears, made an infamous proclamation setting a price upon Indian scalps. A strong coalition was formed against Franklin; to the enmity of the proprietary party was now added the distrust of the people.
Just at this time the old trouble between the governor and the Assembly broke out more virulently. Despite the decision of the London Council, the governor vetoed an important bill because the proprietary estates were not exempted from taxation. An angry debate arose in the Assembly as to whether they should petition the king to withdraw Pennsylvania from the proprietaries and make it a crown colony. Franklin took an active part in this contest, and threw all the weight of his authority in favor of the petition; but in the election which followed in 1764 the combination of the aristocrats, who sided with the proprietaries, and of the fanatics, who favored the Paxton uprising, was too strong for him, and he was not returned. After a stormy debate, however, the Assembly adopted the petition; and Franklin, despite the bitter personal attacks of John Dickinson, was chosen as agent to carry the request to England.
The petition was not allowed, and Pennsylvania remained in the hands of the proprietaries until it became an independent state. But other questions, far more important than the local difficulties of any one colony, were to occupy Franklin's and the other commissioners' time. Franklin was in England from December, 1764, until March of 1775, and during these ten years was busily engaged in supporting the colonies in their unequal struggle against the British Parliament. He was the accredited representative of Pennsylvania, Georgia, New Jersey, and Massachusetts, and before the government and the people of England stood as the champion of the whole province. Every one knows the nature of the acts which finally created a new empire in the West,—the Stamp Act, the duty on tea, the Boston Port bill. Their very names still stir the patriotic blood of America. The principle at issue was clearly announced in the battle cry, "No taxation without representation." Franklin was a stanch advocate of the American claims, and threw all the weight of his personal influence and of his eloquent pen into the work. But in one respect he seems to have been deceived: during the first years of his mission he held Parliament responsible for all the tyrannical measures against the colonies, and looked upon the king as their natural protector. It was a feeling common among Americans who wished to preserve their allegiance to the empire while protesting against the authority of the laws. Even as late as 1771 he could write these words about George III: "I can scarcely conceive a king of better dispositions, of more exemplary virtues, or more truly desirous of promoting the welfare of his subjects." When at last the bigoted character of that sovereign was fully revealed to him, he despaired utterly of reconciliation with the mother country.
Franklin's labors may well be portrayed in two dramatic incidents: his examination before Parliament in 1766, and the so-called Privy Council outrage in 1774.
After the passage of the Stamp Act, Franklin wrote to a friend: "Depend upon it, my good neighbor, I took every step in my power to prevent the passing of the Stamp Act. Nobody could be more concerned and interested than myself to oppose it sincerely and heartily.... We might as well have hindered the sun's setting. That we could not do. But since it is down, my friend, and it may be long before it rises again, let us make as good a night of it as we can. We can still light candles. Frugality and industry will go a great way towards indemnifying us. Idleness and pride tax with a heavier hand than kings and parliaments. If we can get rid of the former, we may easily bear the latter." But Franklin's philosophical habit of accepting the inevitable,—a habit which for a time brought him the hostility of such strenuous patriots as the Adamses,—did not prevent him from doing all in his power to further the repeal of that act when the matter was again taken up by Parliament. Nor did America lack friends in Parliament itself, and these gentlemen now arranged that Franklin should give testimony before the bar of the House.
In the examination which followed, Franklin showed the fullness of his knowledge and the keenness of his wit better perhaps than in any other act of his life. It is impossible to give at length the replies with which he aided the friends of repeal and baffled its foes; but a few of his answers may indicate the nature of all.
Q."What was the temper of America towards Great Britain before the year 1763?"
A."The best in the world. They submitted willingly to the government of the Crown, and paid in their courts obedience to acts of Parliament.... They had not only a respect, but an affection for Great Britain; for its laws, its customs, and manners; and even a fondness for its fashions, that greatly increased the commerce. Natives of Britain were always treated with particular regard; to be anOld England manwas, of itself, a character of some respect, and gave a kind of rank among us."
Q."What is their temper now?"
A."Oh, very much altered."
Q."How would the Americans receive a future tax, imposed on the same principle as the Stamp Act?"
A."Just as they do the Stamp Act;they would not pay it".
Q."Would the colonists prefer to forego the collection of debts by legal process rather than use stamped paper?"
A."I can only judge what other people will think and how they will act by what I feel within myself. I have a great many debts due to me in America, and I had rather they should remain unrecoverable by any law than submit to the Stamp Act. They will be debts of honor."
The examination was a complete success; not even the Tories could object to it, and to Burke it seemed like the examination of a master by a parcel of schoolboys. A few days later the repeal was carried.
But the relief was only temporary, and Parliament soon returned to its high-handed measures of repression. One day in the midst of the contest Franklin was talking with a friendly member of Parliament and inveighing against the violence of the government towards Boston. The Englishman replied that these measures of repression did not originate in England, and to prove his assertion placed in Franklin's hands a packet of letters written by Hutchinson, governor of Massachusetts, and others to a member of Parliament with the intention of reaching the ears of Lord Grenville. These letters, written by native-born Americans, advised the quartering of troops on Boston, advocated the making of judges and governors dependent on England for their salaries, and were full of such sentiments as that "there must be an abridgment of what are called English liberties." Franklin by permission sent them to Boston, where they naturally raised a furor of indignation. A petition was immediately sent over to have Governor Hutchinson removed from office, but for a while government took no action. After a time the letters got into the London newspapers with the most deplorable result. One Thomas Whately, brother of the gentleman to whom they had been addressed, was accused of purloining the letters and sending them to America. This caused a duel, and a second duel was about to be fought when Franklin published a note in the "Public Advertiser" avowing that the letters had not passed through Mr. Whately's hands, that he himself was responsible for sending them to Boston, and that no blame could be attached to the action as the letters were really of a public nature. The Tories now saw their opportunity to attack Franklin. The petition for removing Hutchinson was taken up by the Committee for Plantation Affairs, and Franklin was summoned to appear before them. Wedderburn, the king's solicitor-general, was there to speak for Hutchinson, and Franklin, having no counsel, had the proceedings delayed for three weeks.
On the appointed day the Council met in a building called the Cockpit, and Franklin appeared before them. The room was furnished with a long table down the middle, at which the lords sat. At one end of the room was a fireplace, and in a recess at one side of the chimney Franklin stood during the whole meeting. His advocates spoke, but without much effect, and the defense of Hutchinson was then taken up by Wedderburn. But instead of arguing the point at issue, Wedderburn made it the occasion for delivering, much to the delight of the Tory lords present, a long and utterly unjustified tirade against Franklin. With thunderous voice and violent beating of his fist on the cushion before him, he denounced Franklin as the "prime mover of this whole contrivance against his majesty's two governors." Although the letters had been given to Franklin for the express purpose of having them conveyed to America, Wedderburn accused him of base treachery; turning to the committee he said: "I hope, my Lords, you will mark and brand the man, for the honor of this country, of Europe, and of mankind. Private correspondence has hitherto been held sacred, in times of the greatest party rage, not only in politics but religion." "He has forfeited all the respect of societies and of men. Into what companies will he hereafter go with an unembarrassed face, or the honest intrepidity of virtue? Men will watch him with a jealous eye; they will hide their papers from him, and lock up their escritoirs. He will henceforth esteem it a libel to be calleda man of letters;homotriumlitterarum(i.e.,fur, thief)!" "But he not only took away the letters from one brother; but kept himself concealed till he nearly occasioned the murder of the other. It is impossible to read his account, expressive of the coolest and most deliberate malice, without horror." "Amidst these tragical events, of one person nearly murdered, of another answerable for the issue, of a worthy governor hurt in his dearest interests, the fate of America in suspense; here is a man, who, with the utmost insensibility of remorse, stands up and avows himself the author of all. I can compare it only to Zanga, in Dr. Young's "Revenge";—