KEADKB l; LIBRARY OF THE University of California. Class tantrar& ILibrarp Litton AMERICAN STATESMEN JOHN T. MORSE, JR. IN THIRTY-TWO VOLUMES VOL. I. THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD BENJAMIN FRANKLIN OF FOhN . c ncti i stanbae::; ltbhaet ez: ^u^/efawztfarics/ .jtuL/cs. ^/u/as/tY'iAcai/776' HOUG . ' FFLIN &. CO. Slmttitm Statesmen BENJAMIN FRANKLIN BY JOHN T. MORSE, JR. £ BOSTON AND NEW YORK HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY Cbe firbersitir press, £ambnDrj£ F5ADB1G ROOM /I 1 33/y Copyright, 1889 and 1898. By JOHN T. MORSE, JR. Copyright, 1898, By HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO. All rights reserved. EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION The editor has often been asked : " Upon what principle have you. constructed this series of lives of American statesmen ? " The query has always been civil in form, while in substance it has often implied that the " principle," as to which inquiry is made, has been undiscoverable by the interro- gator. Other queries, like pendants, have also come : Why have you not included A, or B, or C ? The inference from these is that the querist conceives A, or B, or C to be statesmen certainly not less eminent than E, or F, or G, whose names he sees upon the list. ' Now there really has been a principle of selection ; but it has not been a mathematical principle, whereby the several states- men of the country have been brought to the measuring-pole, like horses, and those of a certain height have been accepted, and those not seeming to reach that height have been rejected. The principle has been to make such a list of men in public life that the aggregation of all their biogra- phies would give, in this personal shape, the history and the picture of the growth and development of the United States from the beginning of that 295825 vi EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION agitation which led to the Eevolution until the completion of that solidarity which we believe has resulted from the civil war and the subsequent reconstruction. / In illustration, let me speak of a few volumes. Patrick Henry was hardly a great statesman ; but, apart from the prestige and romance which his eloquence has thrown about his memory, he fur- nished the best opportunity for drawing a picture of the South in the period preceding the Revolu- tion, and for showing why and how the southern colonies, among whom Virginia was easily the leader, became sharers in the strife. Benton might possibly have been included upon his own merits. But if there were any doubt upon this point, or if including him would seem to have rendered it proper to include others equally eminent and yet omitted, the reply is that Benton serves the important purpose of giving the best available opportunity to sketch the character of the Southwest, and the political feeling and develop- ment in that section of the country. In like manner, Cass was hardly a great states- man, although very active and prominent for a long period. But the Northwest — or what used to be the Northwest not so very long ago — comes out of the wilderness and into the domain of civ- ilization in the life of Cass. EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION vii John Randolph, erratic and bizarre, was not justly entitled to rank among great statesmen. But the characteristics of Congress, as a body, can be brought into better relief in the narrative of his life than in that of any other person of his day. These characteristics were so striking, so essential to an understanding of the history of those times, and so utterly different from the habits and ways of our own era, that an opportunity to present them must have been forced if Randolph had not fortunately offered it. These four volumes are mentioned by way of illustration of the plan of the series in some of its less obvious purposes. By the light of the suggestions thus afforded, readers will probably see for themselves the motives which have led to the presence of other volumes. But one further state- ment should be made. It has been the editor's intention to deal with the advancement of the country. When the people have moved steadily along any road, the men who have led them on that road have been selected as subjects. When the people have refused to enter upon a road, or, having entered, have soon turned back from it, the leaders upon such inchoate or abandoned excur- sions have for the most part been rejected. Those who have been exponents of ideas and principles which have entered into the progress and have viii EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION developed in a positive way the history of the nation have been chosen ; those who have unfortu- nately linked themselves with rejected ideas and principles have themselves also been rejected. Cal- houn has been made an exception to this rule, for reasons so obvious that they need not be rehearsed. A Series of Great Failures presents fine oppor- tunities, which will some day attract some enter- prising editor; but that is not the undertaking here in hand. If the men who guided and the men who failed to guide the movement and progress of the country were to stand side by side in this series its size would be increased by at least one third, but probably not so its value. Yet the failures have held out some temptations which it has been difficult to resist. For example, there was Gov- ernor Hutchinson, whose life has since been written by the same gentleman who in this series has admirably presented his great antagonist, Samuel Adams. There was much to be said in favor of setting the two portraits, done by the same hand, side by side. It must be remembered that the cause for the disaffected colonists is argued by the writers in this series in the old-fashioned way, — that is to say, upon the fundamental theory that Great Britain was foully wrong and her cis- Atlantic subjects nobly right. A life of Hutchinson would have furnished an opportunity for showing that, as EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION ix an unmodified proposition, this is very far from being correct. The time has come when efforts to state the quarrel fairly for both parties are not altogether refused a hearing in the United States. Nevertheless the admission of Hutchinson for this purpose would have entailed too many conse- quences. The colonists did secede and did estab- lish independence ; their action and their success constitute the history of the country; and the leaders of their movement are the persons whose portraits are properly hung in this gallery. The obstructionists, leaders of the defeated party, who failed to control our national destiny, must find room elsewhere. In the same way, Stephen A. Douglas has been left outside the door. Able, distinguished, influential, it was yet his misfortune to represent ideas and policies which the people decisively condemned. Sufficient knowledge of these ideas and policies is obtained from the lives of those who opposed and triumphed over them. The history of non-success needs not the elaborate presentation of a biography of the defeated leader in a series of statesmen. The work of Douglas was discredited ; it does not remain as an active sur- viving influence, or as an integral part amid our modern conditions. Andrew Johnson, also, fur- nished such an admirable opportunity for the dis- cussion of the subject of reconstruction that some x EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION persons have thought that he should have found a place. But this was impossible unless he were absolutely necessary for this especial purpose ; and fortunately he was not so, since the work could be done in the lives of Seward and Stevens and Sum- ner. Then, if one were willing to contribute to the immortality of a scoundrel, there was Aaron Burr ; but large as was the part which he played for a while in American politics, and near as it came to being very much larger, the presence of his name would have been a degradation of the series. Moreover his career was strictly selfish and per- sonal; he led no party, represented no idea, and left no permanent trace. There was also William H. Crawford, who narrowly missed being Presi- dent, and who was a greater man than many of the Presidents ; but he did miss, and he died, and there was an end of him. There was Buchanan also ; intellectually he had the making of a states- man ; but his wrong-headed blundering is suffi- ciently depicted for the purposes of this series by the lives of those who foiled him. These names, again, are mentioned only as indi- cations of the scheme, as explaining some exclu- sions. There are other exclusions, which have been made, not because the individuals were not men of note, but because it seemed that the story of their lives would fill no hiatus among the vol- umes of the completed series. EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION jrf The editor cannot expect every one to agree with him in the selection which he has made. We all have our favorites in past history as well as in modern politics, and few lists would precisely dupli- cate each other. So the only thing which would seriously afflict the editor with a sense of having made a bad blunder would be, if some one should detect a really gaping chasm, a neglect to treat somewhere among the lives some important item of our national history falling within the period which the series is designed to cover. The whole series naturally shapes itself, in a somewhat crude and rough way to be sure, yet by virtue of substantial lines of division, into a few sub-series or groups. The first of these belongs to the Revolutionary period, what may be called the destructive period, since it witnessed the destruc- tion of the long-established political conditions. In this group we find the leaders of the disaffection and revolt : Benjamin Franklin, Samuel Adams, Patrick Henry, and George Washington. Wash- ington, of course, might properly find a place also in the second group ; but for the purposes of sepa- ration he is by preference placed in the first one, because the Revolution was to so great an extent his own personal achievement, his transcendent and crowning glory. The second group, constituting the constructive xu EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION period, comprises the men who were foremost in framing the Constitution, and in organizing and giving coherence and life to the new government and to the nationality thereby created. This is introduced by John Adams. He, like Washington, might properly find a place in both the first and the second groups, but the distinction of the presi- dential office brings him with sufficient propriety into the second. The others in this group are Alexander Hamilton, Gouverneur Morris, John Jay, and John Marshall. The third group follows the overthrow of Feder- alism with its theory of a strongly centralized gov- ernment. This, of course, begins with Thomas Jefferson, who led and organized the new party of the democracy. He is followed by his political disciple, James Madison ; by their secretary of the treasury, Albert Gallatin ; and by James Monroe, John Quincy Adams, and John Randolph. The two last named are hardly to be called Jefferso- nians, but they mark the passage of the nation from the statesmanship of Jefferson to the widely different democracy of Jackson. The fourth group witnesses the absorption of the nation in questions of domestic policy. The crude and rough domination of Andrew Jackson opened a new order of things. Men's minds were busied with affairs at home, at first more especially with EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION xiii the tariff, then more and more exclusively with sla- very. This group, besides Jackson, includes Mar- tin Van Buren, Henry Clay, Daniel Webster, John C. Calhoun, Thomas H. Benton, and Lewis Cass. The fifth and closing group is that of the civil war. This of course opens with Abraham Lincoln. The others are William H. Seward, as being a sort of prime minister throughout the period ; Salmon P. Chase, in whose life can properly be discussed the financial policy and the principal legal matters ; Charles Francis Adams, embodying the important topic of diplomatic relations ; Charles Sumner, representing the advanced abolitionist element ; and Thaddeus Stevens, who appears as a tribune, perhaps we may say the leader, in the popular branch of Congress. Almost inevitably the series begins with Benja- min Franklin, the first great American, the first man born on this side of the water who was " meant for the universe." His mere existence was a sort of omen. It was absurd to suppose that a people which could produce a man of that scope, in char- acter and intellect, could long remain in a condi- tion of political dependence. It would have been preposterous to have had Franklin die a colonist, and go down to posterity, not as an American, but as a colonial Englishman. He was a microcosm of the coming nation of the United States ; all xir EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION the better moral and intellectual qualities of our people existed in him, save only the dreamy philo- sophy of the famous New England school of think- ers. It is very interesting to see how slowly and reluctantly, yet how surely and decisively, he came to the point of resistance and independence. He was not like so many, who were unstable and shift- ing. There was no backward step, though there were many painful and unwilling forward ones in his progress. One feels almost as if an apology were needed for writing another life of a man so be-written. Yet there is some reason for doing so ; the chapter concerning his services in France during the Revolution presents the true facts and the magnitude of his usefulness more carefully than, so far as I am aware, it has previously been done. As a promoter of the Revolution, Samuel Adams has easily the most conspicuous place. He was an agitator to the very centre of his marrow. He was the incarnation of New England ; to know thor- oughly his career is to know the Massachusetts of that day as an anatomist knows the human frame. The man of the town meeting did more to kindle the Revolution than any other one person. Many stood with him, but his life tells the story and presents the picture. The like service is done for Virginia by Patrick Henry ; and the contrast be- EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION xv tween the two men is most striking and pictur- esque, yet not more so than the difference between the two sections of the country to which they re- spectively belonged. If John Adams had died before he was made President, he also would have been one of this group. But the lustre of his official position pre- vents our placing him in the earlier constellation. Yet, though not more prominent than many others, in fact hardly to be called prominent at all in the events which led up to the Revolution, he became a leader in the first Congress, and it is probable that no one contributed more than he did — possi- bly no one contributed so much — towards forcing the adoption of the Declaration of Independence. Washington, though a member of Congress, was by no means conspicuous in the agitation which preceded the actual outbreak of hostilities. His entry in his uniform among his civilian comrades was indeed dramatic; but his important public career really began with his acceptance of the posi- tion of commander in chief. In this capacity he achieved the overthrow of the British supremacy, and brought to a successful close the period of destruction. This first group is a small one, for the first Con- gress brought no new men to the front. Indeed, that body lost its own prestige very soon after inde- xvi EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION pendence was declared ; thereafter it was no stage on which new men could win distinction, or men already famous could add to their store ; indeed, members were lucky if they escaped without dimi- nution of their reputations, by very reason of being parts of so nerveless and useless a body. The fact is, that the civilians, after they had set the ball going, did little more. They contributed almost nothing to the Revolution in any practical way during its actual progress. Perhaps they could not ; but certainly they did not. Washington and his officers and soldiers deserve all the credit for making independence a reality instead of an as- sertion. They were not very strenuously or gener- ously backed by the mass of the people after the first fervor was over. The truth is that that grand event was the work of a small body of heroes, who presented freedom and nationality to the people of the thirteen colonies. John Adams and Congress said that the colonists were free, and there left the matter, fundi officio. Washington and the troops took up the business, and actually made colonists into freemen. Those upon whom this dignity and advantage were conferred were, for the most part, content somewhat supinely to allow the new con- dition to be established for them. JOHN T. MORSE, JR. September, 1898. CONTENTS PAGHE I. Early Years 1 v II. A Citizen of Philadelphia: Concernment in Public Affairs . . . ... 17 HE. Representative of Pennsylvania in England : Return Home 59 IV. Life in Philadelphia 86 V. Second Mission to England: I. ... 100 VI. Second Mission to England: II. . . . 142 VII. Second Mission to England : III. The Hutch- inson Letters: The Privy Council Scene; Return Home 177 VIII. Services in the States 204 IX. Minister to France : I. Deane and Beaumar- chais: Foreign Officers .... 220 X. Minister to France : II. Prisoners : Trouble with Lee and others 248 XI. Minister to France : III. Treaty with France : More Quarrels 267 XII. Financiering 304 JQII. Habits of Life and of Business: an Adams Incident . 337 XIV. Peace Negotiations: Last Years in France 357 XV. At Home : President of Pennsylvania : The Constitutional Convention: Death . . 403 Index 429 ILLUSTRATIONS Benjamin Franklin Frontispiece From the original by Jean Baptiste Greuze, in the Boston Public Library. It was painted for Benjamin Franklin as a gift to Richard Oswald, the English com- missioner associated with him in the peace negotiations of 1782. Gardner Brewer of Boston bought the painting in 1872 and presented ,it to the Library. Autograph from the Declaration of Independence. The vignette of Independence Hall is after a drawing in the possession of the American Bank Note Co., Phila- delphia. Page Count Vergennes facing 84 From the frontispiece to Doniol, " Histoire de la Par' ticipation de la France a l'Establissement des Etats- Unis d'Amerique," Paris, 1886, 5 vols., 4to, vol. i. ; an engraving by Vangelisti, from the original painting by Antoine Frangois Callet. Autograph from same book. Lord Hillsborough (Born Wills Hill ; afterwards Mar- quis of Downshire) facing 164 From a painting by J. Rising, owned by Lord Salisbury. Autograph from MS. collection in the New York Public Library, Lenox Building. Paul Jones facing 300 From the original portrait by C. W. Peale in Independ- ence Hall. Autograph from MS. collection in Library of Boston Athenaeum. Sea-Fight between the Serapis and Bon Homme Richard facing 302 Oif Flamborough Head, September 3, 1779. Paul ILLUSTRATIONS Jones's ship, in compliment to the author of " Poor Rich- ard's Maxims," was named " Bon Homme Richard." Captain Pearson, who commanded the Serapis, was knighted for his heroic resistance. Paul Jones, tradition says, on hearing of the honor conferred on Pearson, good-naturedly observed, "If I ever meet him again, I'll make a lord of him." BENJAMIN FRANKLIN CHAPTER I EARLY YEARS It is a lamentable matter for any writer to find himself compelled to sketch, however briefly, the early years of Benjamin Franklin. That auto- biography, in which the story of those years is so inimitably told, by its vividness, its simplicity, even by its straightforward vanity, and by the quaint charm of its old-fashioned but well-nigh faultless style, stands among the few masterpieces of English prose. It ought to have served for the perpetual protection of its subject as a copyright more sacred than any which rests upon mere statu- tory law. Such, however, has not been the case, and the narrative has been rehearsed over and over again till' the American who is not familiar with it is indeed a curiosity. Yet no one of the subsequent narrators has justified his undertaking. Therefore because the tale has been told so often, and once has been told so well, and also in order that the stone which it is my lot to cast upon a 2 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN cairn made up of so many failures may at least be only a small pebble, I shall get forward as speed- ily as possible to that point in Franklin's career where his important public services begin, at the same time commending every reader to turn again for further refreshment of his knowledge to those pages which might well have aroused the envy of Fielding and Defoe. Franklin came from typical English stock. For three hundred years, perhaps for many centuries more, his ancestors lived on a small freehold at Ecton in Northamptonshire, and so far back as record or tradition ran the eldest son in each gen- eration had been bred a blacksmith. But after ( the strange British fashion there was intertwined with this singular fixedness of ideas a stubborn \/ independence in thinking, courageously exercised C in times of peril. The Franklins were among the early Protestants, and held their faith unshaken by the terrors of the reign of Bloody Mary. By the end of Charles the Second's time they were non -conformists and attendants on conventicles; and about 1682 Josiah Franklin, seeking the peaceful exercise of his creed, migrated to Boston, Massachusetts. His first wife bore him seven children, and died. Not satisfied, he took in sec- ond nuptials Abiah Folger, "daughter of Peter Folger, one of the first settlers of New England, of whom honorable mention is made by Cotton Mather," and justly, since in those dark days he was an active philanthropist towards the Indians, EARLY YEARS 3 and an opponent of religious persecution. 1 This lady outdid her predecessor, contributing no less than ten children to expand the family circle. The eighth of this second brood was named Ben- jamin, in memory of his father's favorite brother. He was born in a house on Milk Street, opposite the Old South Church, January 6, old style, 17, new style, 1706. Mr. Parton says that probably Benjamin "derived from his mother the fashion of his body and the cast of his countenance. There are lineal descendants of Peter Folger who strik- ingly resemble Franklin in these particulars ; one of whom, a banker of New Orleans, looks like a portrait of Dr. Franklin stepped out of its frame." 2 A more important inheritance was that of the humane and liberal traits of his mother's father. In that young, scrambling village in the new country, where all material, human or otherwise, was roughly and promptly utilized, the unproduc- tive period of boyhood was cut very short. Frank- lin's father speedily resolved to devote him, "as the tithe of his sons, to the service of the church," and so sent him to the grammar school. A droller misfit than Franklin in an orthodox New England pulpit of that era can hardly be imagined; but since he was only seven years old when his father endeavored to arrange his life's career, a misap- preciation of his fitnesses was not surprising. The boy himself had the natural hankering of children 1 Parton's Life of Franklin, i. 27. 2 Ibid. i. 31. V 4 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN bred in a seaboard town for the life of a sailor. It is amusing to fancy the discussions between this babe of seven years and his father, concerning his occupation in life. Certainly the babe had not altogether the worst of it, for when he was eight years old his father definitively gave up the notion of making him a preacher of the Gospel. At the ripe age of ten he was taken from school, and set to assist his father in the trade of tallow-chandler and soap-boiler. But dipping wicks and pouring grease pleased him hardly better than reconciling infant damnation and a red-hot hell with the love- liness of Christianity. The lad remained discon- tented. His chief taste seemed to be for reading, and great were the ingenuity and the self-sacrifice whereby he secured books and leisure to read them. The resultant of these several forces was at last a suggestion from his father that he should take up, as a sort of quasi-literary occupation, the trade of a printer. James Franklin, an older brother of Benjamin, was already of that calling. Benja- min stood out for some time, but at last reluctantly yielded, and in the maturity of his thirteenth year this child set his hand to an indenture of appren- ticeship which formally bound him to his brother for the next nine years of his life. Handling the types aroused a boyish ambi- tion to see himself in print. He scribbled some ballads, one about a shipwreck, another about the capture of a pirate; but he "escaped being a poet," as fortunately as he had escaped being a EARLY YEARS 5 clergyman. James Franklin seems to have trained his junior with such fraternal cuffs and abuse as the elder brothers of English biography and lit- erature appear usually to have bestowed on the younger. But this younger one got his revenges. James published the "New England Courant," and, inserting in it some objectionable matter, was forbidden to continue it. Thereupon he canceled the indenture of apprenticeship, and the newspaper was thereafter published by Benjamin Franklin. A secret renewal of the indenture was executed simultaneously. This "flimsy scheme" gave the boy his chance. Secure that the document would never be produced, he resolved to leave the print- ing-house. But the influence of James prevented his getting employment elsewhere in the town. Besides this, other matters also harassed him. It gives an idea of the scale of things in the little settlement, and of the serious way in which life was taken even at its outset, to hear that this 'prentice lad of seventeen years had already made himself "a little obnoxious to the governing party," so as to fear that he might soon " bring himself into scrapes." For the inherited habit of freedom in] religious speculation had taken a new form in Franklin, who was already a free-thinker, and by his "indiscreet disputations about religion" had come to be " pointed at with horror by good people as an infidel and atheist" — compromising, even perilous, names to bear in that Puritan village. Va- rious motives thus combined to induce migration. 6 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN He stole away on board a sloop bound for New York, and after three days arrived there, in Octo- ber, 1723. He had but a trifling sum of money, and he knew no one in the strange city. He sought occupation in his trade, but got nothing better than advice to move on to Philadelphia; and thither he went. The story of this journey- ing is delightfully told in the autobiography, with the famous little scene wherein he figures with a loaf under each arm and munching a third while he walks "up Market Street, as far as Fourth Street, passing by the door of Mr. Read, my fu- ture wife's father; when she, standing at the door, saw me, and thought I made, as I certainly did, a most awkward, ridiculous appearance." In Philadelphia Franklin soon found opportu- nity to earn a living at his trade. There were then only two printers in that town, ignorant men both, with scant capacity in the technique of their calling. His greater acquirements and ability, and superior knowledge of the craft, soon attracted attention. One day Sir William Keith, gov- ernor of the province, appeared at the printing- office, inquired for Franklin, and carried him off "to taste some excellent Madeira " with himself and Colonel French, while employer Keimer, be- wildered at the compliment to his journeyman, "star'd like a pig poison'd." Over the genial glasses the governor proposed that Franklin should set up for himself, and promised his own influence to secure for him the public printing. Later he EARLY YEARS 7 wrote a letter, intended to induce Franklin's father to advance the necessary funds. Equipped with this document, Franklin set out, in April, 1724, to seek his father's cooperation, and surprised his family by appearing unannounced among them, not at all in the classic garb of the prodigal son, but "having a genteel new suit from head to foot, a watch, and my pockets lin'd with near five pounds sterling in silver." But neither his pro- sperous appearance nor the flattering epistle of the great man could induce his hard-headed parent to favor a scheme "of setting a boy up in business, who wanted yet three years of being at man's estate." The independent old tallow-chandler only concluded that the distinguished baronet "must be of small discretion." So Franklin returned with "some small gifts as tokens" of parental love, much good advice as to "steady industry and pru- dent parsimony," but no cash in hand. The gal- lant governor, however, said: "Since he will not set you up, I will do it myself," and a plan was soon concocted whereby Franklin was to go to England and purchase a press and types with funds to be advanced by Sir William. Every- thing was arranged, only from day to day there was delay in the actual delivery to Franklin of the letters of introduction and credit. The governor was a very busy man. The day of sailing came, but the documents had not come, only a message from the governor that Franklin might feel easy at embarking, for that the papers should be sent 8 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN on board at Newcastle, down the stream. Ac- cordingly, at the last moment, a messenger came hurriedly on board and put the packet into the captain's hands. Afterward, when during the lei- sure hours of the voyage the letters were sorted, none was found for Franklin. His patron had simply broken an inconvenient promise. It was indeed a "pitiful trick " to "impose so grossly on a poor innocent boy." Yet Franklin, in his broad ^tolerance of all that is bad as well as good in human nature, spoke with good-tempered indiffer- ence, and with more of charity than of justice, concerning the deceiver. "It was a habit he had acquired. He wish'd to please everybody; and, having little to give, he gave expectations. He was otherwise an ingenious, sensible man, a pretty good writer, and a good governor for the people. . . . Several of our best laws were of his plan- | ning, and passed during his administration. " None the less it turned out that this contemp- tible governor did Franklin a good turn in sending him to London, though the benefit came in a fash- ion not anticipated by either. For Franklin, not yet much wiser than the generality of mankind, had to go through his period of youthful folly, and it was good fortune for him that the worst portion of this period fell within the eighteen months which he passed in England. Had this part of his career been run in Philadelphia its unsavory aroma might have kept him long in ill odor among his fellow townsmen, then little toler- EARLY YEARS 9 ant of profligacy. But the "errata" of a jour- neyman printer in London were quite beyond the ken of provincial gossips. He easily gained em- ployment in his trade, at wages which left him a little surplus beyond his maintenance. This sur- plus, during most of the time, he and his comrades squandered in the pleasures of the town. Yet ■ in one matter his good sense showed itself, for he kept clear of drink; indeed, his real nature asserted itself even at this time, to such a degree that we find him waging a temperance crusade in his printing-house, and actually weaning some of his fellow compositors from their dearly loved / "beer." One of these, David Hall, afterward became his able partner in the printing business in Philadelphia. Amid much bad companionship he fell in with some clever men. His friend James Ralph, though a despicable, bad fellow, had brains and some education. At this time, too, Franklin was in the proselyting stage of infi- delity. He published "A Dissertation on Liberty and Necessity, Pleasure and Pain," and the pam- phlet got him some little notoriety among the free- thinkers of London, and an introduction to some of them, but chiefly of the class who love to sit in taverns and blow clouds of words. Their society did him no good, and such effervescence was better blown off in London than in Philadelphia. But after the novelty of London life had worn off, it ceased to be to Franklin's taste. He began to reform somewhat, to retrench and lay by a little 10 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN money; and after eighteen months he eagerly- seized an opportunity which offered for returning home. This was opened to him by a Mr. Den- ham, a good man and prosperous merchant, then engaged in England in purchasing stock for his store in Philadelphia. Franklin was to be his managing and confidential clerk, with the prospect of rapid advancement. At the same time Sir William Wyndham, ex-chancellor of the exchequer, endeavored to persuade Franklin to open a swim- ming school in London. He promised very aristo- cratic patronage; and as an opening for money- getting this plan was perhaps the better. Franklin almost closed with the proposition. He seems, however, to have had a little touch of homesick- ness, a preference, if not quite a yearning, for the colonies, which sufficed to turn the scale. Such was his third escape; he might have passed his days in instructing the scions of British nobility in the art of swimming! He arrived at home, after a tedious voyage, October 11, 1726. But almost immediately fortune seemed to cross him, for Mr. Denham and he were both taken suddenly ill. Denham died; Franklin narrowly evaded death, and fancied himself somewhat disappointed at his recovery, "regretting in some degree that [he] must now sometime or other have all that disagreeable work to go over again." He seems to have become sufficiently interested in what was likely to follow his decease, in this world at least, to compose an epitaph which has become world- renowned, and has been often imitated : — EARLY YEARS 11 THE BODY OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN (like the cover of an old book, its contents torn out, and stript of its lettering and gilding,) lies here, food for worms, yet the work itself shall not be lost, for it will, as he believed, appear once more, IN A NEW AND MORE BEAUTIFUL EDITION, CORRECTED AND AMENDED BY the Author. But there was no use for this graveyard literature ; Franklin got well, and recurred again to his proper trade. Being expert with the composing-stick, he was readily engaged at good wages by his old employer, Keimer. Franklin, however, soon sus- pected that this man's purpose was only to use him temporarily for instructing some green hands, and for organizing the printing-office. Naturally a quarrel soon occurred. But Franklin had proved his capacity, and forthwith the father of one Mere- dith, a fellow journeyman under Keimer, advanced sufficient money to set up the two as partners in the printing business. Franklin managed the office, showing admirable enterprise, skill, and industry. Meredith drank. This allotment of functions soon produced its natural result. Two friends of Franklin lent him what capital he 12 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN needed ; he bought out Meredith and had the whole business for himself. His zeal increased; he won good friends, gave general satisfaction, and absorbed all the best business in the province. At the time of the formation of the partnership the only newspaper of Pennsylvania was published by Bradford, a rival of Keimer in the printing business. It was "a paltry thing, wretchedly managed, no way entertaining, and yet was profit- able to him." Franklin and Meredith resolved to start a competing sheet; but Keimer got wind of their plan, and at once "published proposals for printing one himself." He had got ahead of them, and they had to desist. But he was igno- rant, shiftless, and incompetent, and after carrying on his enterprise for "three quarters of a year, with at most only ninety subscribers," he sold out his failure to Franklin and Meredith "for a trifle." To them, or rather to Franklin, "it prov'd in a few years extremely profitable." Its original name, "The Universal Instructor in all Arts and Sciences, and Pennsylvania Gazette," was reduced by the amputation of the first clause, and, relieved from the burden of its trailing title, it circulated actively throughout the province, and further. Number 40, Franklin's first number, appeared October 2, 1729. Bradford, who was postmaster, refused to allow his post-riders to carry any save his own newspaper. But Franklin, whose moral- ity was nothing if not practical, fought the devil with fire, and bribed the riders so judiciously that f: EARLY YEARS 13 his newspaper penetrated whithersoever they went.^ He says of it: "Our first papers made a quite different appearance from any before in the Pro- vince ; a better type, and better printed ; but some spirited remarks of my writing, on the dis- pute then going on between Governor Burnet and the Massachusetts Assembly, struck the principal people, occasioned the paper and the manager of it to be much talked of, and in a few weeks brought them all to be our subscribers." Later his articles in favor of the issue of a sum of paper currency were so largely instrumental in carrying that measure that the profitable job of printing the money became his reward. Thus advancing in prestige and prosperity, he was able to dis- charge by installments his indebtedness. "In order to secure," he says, "my credit and char- acter as a tradesman, I took care to be not only in reality industrious and frugal, but to avoid all appearances to the contrary." A characteristic remark. With Franklin every virtue had its mar- ket value, and to neglect to get that value out of it was the part of folly. About this time the wife of a glazier, who occu- pied part of Franklin's house, began match-making in behalf of a "very deserving " girl; and Frank- lin, nothing loath, responded with "serious court- ship." He intimated his willingness to accept the maiden's hand, provided that its fellow hand held a dowry, and he named an hundred pounds sterling as his lowest figure. The parents, on the other 14 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN part, said that they had not so much ready money, Franklin civilly suggested that they could get it by mortgaging their house; they firmly declined. The negotiation thereupon was abandoned. "This affair," Franklin continues, "having turned my thoughts to marriage, I look'd round me and made overtures of acquaintance in other places; but soon found that, the business of a printer being generally thought a poor one, I was not to expect money with a wife, unless with such a one as I should not otherwise think agreeable." Finding such difficulties in the way of a financial alliance, Franklin appears to have bethought him of affec- tion as a substitute for dollars; so he blew into the ashes of an old flame, and aroused some heat. Before going to England he had engaged himself to Miss Deborah Read; but in London he had pretty well forgotten her, and had written to her only a single letter. Many years afterward, writ- ing to Catharine Ray in 1755, he said: "The cords of love and friendship ... in times past have drawn me . . . back from England to Phila- delphia." If the remark referred to an affection for Miss Read, it was probably no more trust- worthy than are most such allegations made when lapsing years have given a fictitious coloring to a remote past. If indeed Franklin's profligacy and his readiness to marry any girl financially eligible were symptoms attendant upon his being in love, it somewhat taxes the imagination to fancy how he would have conducted himself had he not been the EARLY YEARS 15 victim of romantic passion. Miss Read, mean- while, apparently about as much in love as her lover, had wedded another man, "one Rogers, a potter," a good workman but worthless fellow, who soon took flight from his bride and his creditors. Her position had since become somewhat question- able ; for there was a story that her husband had an earlier wife living, in which case of course her marriage with him was null. There was also a story that he was dead. But there was little evidence of the truth of either tale. Franklin, therefore, hardly knew what he was wedding, a maid, a widow, or another man's wife. Moreover the runaway husband "had left many debts, which his successor might be call'd upon to pay." Few men, even if warmly enamored, would have entered into the matrimonial contract under circumstances so discouraging ; and there are no indications save the marriage itself that Franklin was deeply in love. Yet on September 1, 1730, the pair were wedded. Mrs. Franklin survived for forty years thereafter, and neither seems ever to have regretted the step. "None of the inconveniences happened that we had apprehended," wrote Franklin; "she proved a good^and faithful helpmate ; assisted me much by attending the shop ; we throve together, and have ever mutually endeavored to make each other happy." A sensible, comfortable, satisfac- tory union it was, showing how much better is sense than sensibility as an ingredient in matri- mony. Mrs. Franklin was a handsome woman, 16 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN of comely figure, yet nevertheless an industrious and frugal one ; later on in life Franklin boasted that he had "been clothed from head to foot in linen of [his] wife's manufacture." An early con- tribution of his own to the domestic menage was his illegitimate son, William, born soon after his wedding, of a mother of whom no record or tradi- tion remains. It was an unconventional wedding gift to bring home to a bride ; but Mrs. Franklin, with a breadth and liberality of mind akin to her husband's, readily took the babe not only to her home but really to her heart, and reared him as if he had been her own offspring. Mr. Parton thinks that Franklin gave this excellent wife no further cause for suspicion or jealousy. CHAPTER II A CITIZEN OF PHILADELPHIA: CONCERNMENT IN PUBLIC AFFAIRS So has ended the first stage, in the benign presence of Hymen. The period of youth may be regarded as over ; but the narrative thereof, briefly as it has been given, is not satisfactory. One longs to help out the outline with color, to get the expression as well as merely the features of the young man who is going to become one of the greatest men of the nation. Many a writer and speaker has done what he could in this task, for Franklin has been for a century a chief idol of the American people. The Boston boy, the boy printer, the runaway apprentice, the young jour- neyman, friendless and penniless in distant Lon- don, are pictures which have been made familiar to many generations of schoolboys; and the trifling anecdote of the bread rolls eaten in the streets of Philadelphia has for its only rival among Ameri- can historical traditions the more doubtful story about George Washington, the cherry-tree, and the little hatchet. Yet, if plain truth is to be told, there was no- thing unusual about this sunrise, no rare tints of 18 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN divine augury ; the luminary came up in every -day fashion. Franklin had done much reading; he had taken pains to cultivate a good style in writing English ; he had practiced himself in dispute ; he had adopted some odd notions, for example vege- tarianism in diet; he had at times acquired some influence among his fellow journeymen, and had used it for good; he had occasionally fallen into the society of men of good social position; he had kept clear of the prevalent habit of excessive drinking ; sometimes he had lived frugally and had laid up a little money; more often he had been wasteful ; he had been very dissolute, and in sowing his wild oats he had gone down into the mud. His autobiography gives us a simple, vivid, strong picture, which we accept as correct, though in reading it one sees that the lapse of time since the occurrences narrated, together with his own success and distinction in life, have not been with- out their obvious effect. By the time he thought it worth while to write those pages, Franklin had been taught to think very well of himself and his career. For this reason he was, upon the one hand, somewhat indifferent as to setting down what smaller men would conceal, confident that his fame would not stagger beneath the burden of youthful wrong-doing ; on the other hand, he deals rather gently, a little ideally, with himself, as old men are wont to acknowledge with condemnation tempered with mild forgiveness the foibles of their early days. It is evident that, as a young man, A CITIZEN OF PHILADELPHIA 19 Franklin intermingled sense with folly, correct living with dissipation, in a manner that must have made it difficult for an observer to forecast the final outcome, and which makes it almost equally impossible now to form a satisfactory idea of him. He is not to be disposed of by placing him in any ready-made and familiar class. If he had turned out a bad man, there would have been abundance in his early life to point the moralist's warning tale ; as he turned out a very reputable one, there is scarcely less abundance for panegyrists to ex- patiate upon. Certainly he was a man to attract some attention and to carry some weight, yet not more than many another of whom the world never hears. At the time of his marriage, however, he is upon the verge of development; a new period of his life is about to begin ; what had been dan- gerous and evil in his ways disappears ; the breadth, originality, and practical character of his mind are about to show themselves. He has settled to a steady occupation; he is industrious and thrifty; he has gathered much information, and may be regarded as a well-educated man; he writes a plain, forcible style ; he has enterprise and shrewd- ness in matters of business, and good sense in all matters, — that is the chief point, his sound sense has got its full growth and vigor, and of sound sense no man ever had more. Very soon he not only prospers financially, but begins to secure at first that attention and soon afterward that influ- ence which always follow close upon success in 20 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN practical affairs. He becomes the public-spirited citizen; scheme after scheme of social and public improvement is suggested and carried forward by him, until he justly comes to be one of the fore- most citizens of Philadelphia. The enumeration of what he did within a few years in this small new town and poor community will be found sur- prising and admirable. His first enterprise, of a quasi public nature, was the establishment of a library. There were to be fifty subscribers for fifty years, each paying an entrance fee of forty shillings and an annual due of ten shillings. He succeeded only with diffi- culty and delay, yet he did succeed, and the results were important. Later a charter was obtained, and the number of subscribers was doubled. "This," he says, "was the mother of all the North American subscription libraries, now so numerous. . . . These libraries have improved the general conversation of the Americans, made the common traders and farmers as intelligent as most gentle- men from other countries, and perhaps have con- tributed in some degree to the stand so generally made throughout the colonies in defense of their privileges." "Reading became fashionable," he adds. But it was not difficult to cultivate the desire for reading; that lay close to the surface. The boon which Franklin conferred lay rather in setting the example of a scheme by which books could be cheaply obtained in satisfactory abun- dance. A CITIZEN OF PHILADELPHIA 21 From the course of this business he drew one of those shrewd, practical conclusions which aided him so much in life. He says that he soon felt u the impropriety of presenting one's self as the proposer of any useful project that might be \s supposed to raise one's reputation in the smallest degree above that of one's neighbors, when one has need of their assistance to accomplish that project. I therefore put myself 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." This method he found so well suited to the production of results that he habitually followed it in his subsequent under- takings. It was sound policy; the self-abnegation helped success ; the success secured personal pres- tige. It was soon observed that when "a number of friends " or "a few gentlemen " were represented by Franklin, their purpose was usually good and was pretty sure to be carried through. Hence came reputation and influence. In December, 1732, he says, "I first published my Almanack, under the name of Richard Saun- ders" price five pence, thereby falling in with a common custom among the colonial printers. Within the month three editions were sold ; and it was continued for twenty-five years thereafter with an average sale of 10,000 copies annually, until "Poor Kichard " became a nom de plume as renowned as any in English literature. The pub- lication ranks as one of the most influential in the 22 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN world. Its "proverbial sentences, chiefly such as inculcated industry and frugality as the means of procuring wealth and thereby securing virtue," were sown like seed all over the land. The alma- nac went year after year, for quarter of a cen- tury, into the house of nearly every shopkeeper, planter, and farmer in the American provinces. Its wit and humor, its practical tone, its shrewd maxims, its worldly honesty, its morality of com- mon sense, its useful information, all chimed well with the national character. It formulated in homely phrase and with droll illustration what the colonists more vaguely knew, felt, and believed upon a thousand points of life and conduct. In so doing it greatly trained and invigorated the natural mental traits of the people. "Poor Richard " was the revered and popular schoolmaster of a young nation during its period of tutelage. His teach- ings are among the powerful forces which have gone to shaping the habits of Americans. His terse and picturesque bits of the wisdom and the virtue of this world are familiar in our mouths to-day; they moulded our great-grandparents and their children; they have informed our popular traditions; they still influence our actions, guide our ways of thinking, and establish our points of view, with the constant control of acquired habits which we little suspect. If we were accustomed still to read the literature of the almanac, we should be charmed with its humor. The world has not yet grown away from it, nor ever will. Addison and A CITIZEN OF PHILADELPHIA 23 Steele had more polish but vastly less humor than Franklin. "Poor Kichard " has found eternal life by passing into the daily speech of the people, while the "Spectator" is fast being crowded out of the hands of all save scholars in literature. At this period of his life he wrote many short fugitive pieces, which hold some of the rarest wit that an American library contains. Few people suspect that the ten serious and grave-looking octavos, imprinted "The Works of Benjamin Franklin, " hide much of that delightful kind of wit that can never grow old, but is as charming to-day as when it came damp from the press a century and more ago. How much of "Poor Eichard" was actually original is a sifting not worth while to make. Franklin said: "I was conscious that not a tenth part of the wisdom was my own which he ascribed to me, but rather the gleanings that I had made of the sense of all ages and nations." No profound wisdom is really new, but only the expression of it; and all that of "Poor Richard " had been fused in the crucible of Franklin's brain. But the famous almanac was not the only pulpit whence Franklin preached to the people. He had an excellent ideal of a newspaper. He got news into it, which was seldom done in those days, and which made it attractive; he got advertisements into it, which made it pay, and which also was a novel feature; indeed, Mr. Parton says that he "originated the modern system of business adver- tising ; " he also discussed matters of public inter- 24 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN est. Thus he anticipated the modern newspaper, but in some respects improved in advance upon that which he anticipated. He made his "Ga- zette " a vehicle for disseminating information and morality, and he carefully excluded from it "all libeling and personal abuse." The sheet in its every issue was doing the same sort of work as "Poor Richard." In a word, Franklin was a born teacher of men, and what he did in this way in these his earlier days gives him rank among the most distinguished moralists who have ever lived. What kind of morality he taught is well known. It was human; he kept it free from entangling alliances with any religious creed; its foundations lay in common sense, not in faith. His own nature in this respect is easy to understand but difficult to describe, since the words which must be used convey such different ideas to different persons. Thus, to say that he had the religious temperament, though he was skeptical as to all the divine and supernatural dogmas of the religions of mankind, will seem to many a self-contradic- tion, while to others it is entirely intelligible. In his boyhood one gets a flavor of irreverence which was slow in disappearing. When yet a mere child he suggested to his father the convenience of saying grace over the whole barrel of salt fish, in bulk, as the mercantile phrase would be. By the time that he was sixteen, Shaftesbury and Collins, efficiently aided by the pious writers who had en- deavored to refute them, had made him "a real A CITIZEN OF PHILADELPHIA 26 doubter in many points of our religious doctrine ; " and while he was still his brother's apprentice in Boston, he fell into disrepute as a skeptic. Apparently he gathered momentum in moving along this line of thought, until in England his disbelief took on for a time an extreme and objec- tionable form. His opinions then were "that no- thing could possibly be wrong in the world; and that vice and virtue were empty distinctions, no such things existing." But the pamphlet, already mentioned, in which he expressed these views, was the outburst of a youthful free-thinker not yet accustomed to his new ideas; not many years passed over his head before it " appear 'd not so clever a performance as [he] once thought it; " and in his autobiography he enumerates it among the "errata " of his life. It was not so very long afterward that he busied himself in composing prayers, and even an entire litany, for his own use. No Christian could have found fault with the morals therein embodied ; but Christ was entirely ignored. He even had the courage to draw up a new version of the Lord's Prayer; and he arranged a code of thirteen rules after the fashion of the Ten Commandments ; of these the last one was: "Imitate Jesus and Soc- rates." Except during a short time just preceding and during his stay in London he seems never to have been an atheist; neither was he ever quite a Christian; but as between atheism and Christian- ity he was very much further removed from the 26 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN former than from the latter. He used to call him- self a deist, or theist ; and said that a deist was as much like an atheist as chalk is like charcoal. The evidence is abundant that he settled down into a belief in a personal God, who was good, who concerned himself with the affairs of men, who was pleased with good acts and displeased with evil ones. He believed also in immortality and in rewards in a life to come. But he supported none of these beliefs upon the same basis on which Christians support them. Unlike the infidel school of that day he had no antipathy even to the mythological portions of the Christian religion, no desire to discredit it, nor ambition to distinguish himself in a crusade against it. On the contrary, he was always reso- lute to live well with it. His mind was too broad, his habit of thought too tolerant, to admit of his antagonizing so good a system of morals because it was intertwined with articles of faith which he did not believe. He went to church frequently, and always paid his contribution towards the ex- penses of the society; but he kept his commenda- tion only for those practical sermons which showed men how to become virtuous. In like manner the instruction which he himself inculcated was strictly confined to those virtues which promote the welfare and happiness of the individual and of society. In fact, he recognized none other ; that which did not advance these ends was but a spuri- ous pretender to the title of virtue. A CITIZEN OF PHILADELPHIA 27 One is tempted to make many quotations from Franklin's writings in this connection; but two or three must suffice. In 1743 he wrote to his sister: — " There are some things in your New England doc- trine and worship which I do not agree with ; but I do not therefore condemn them, or desire to shake your belief or practice of them. We may dislike things that are nevertheless right in themselves. I would only have you make me the same allowance, and have a better opinion both of morality and your brother." In 1756 he wrote to a friend : — " He that for giving a draught of water to a thirsty person should expect to be paid with a good plantation, would be modest in his demands compared with those who think they deserve Heaven for the little good they do on earth. . . . For my own part, I have not the van- ity to think I deserve it, the folly to expect it, nor the ambition to desire it ; but content myself in submitting to the will and disposal of that God who made me, who hitherto has preserved and blessed me, and in whose fatherly goodness I may well confide. . . . " The faith you mention has doubtless its use in the world ; I do not desire it to be diminished, nor would I endeavor to lessen it in any man. But I wish it were more productive of good works than I have generally seen it. I mean real good works, — works of kindness, charity, mercy, and public spirit ; not holiday-keeping, sermon reading or hearing, performing church ceremo- nies, or making long prayers, filled with flatteries and compliments despised even by wise men and much less capable of pleasing the Deity. The worship of God is % 28 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN a duty, the hearing arid reading of sermons may be use- ful ; but if men rest in hearing and praying, as too many do, it is as if a tree should value itself in being watered and putting forth leaves, though it never produced any fruit.' , Throughout his life he may be said to have very slowly moved nearer and nearer to the Christian faith, until at last he came so near that many of those somewhat nondescript persons who call them- selves "liberal Christians " might claim him as one of themselves. But if a belief in the divinity of Christ is necessary to make a "Christian," it does not appear that Franklin ever fully had the qualification. When he was an old man, in 1790, President Stiles of Yale College took the free- dom of interrogating him as to his religious faith. It was the first time that any one had ever thus ventured. His reply 1 is interesting : " As to Jesus of Nazareth," he says, "I think his system of morals and his religion, as he left them to us, the best the world ever saw, or is like to see." But he thinks they have been corrupted. " I have, with most of the present dissenters in Eng- land, some doubts as to his divinity ; though it is a question I do not dogmatize upon, having never studied it, and think it needless to busy myself with it now, when I expect soon an opportunity of knowing the truth with less trouble. I see no harm, however, in its being believed, if that belief has the good consequences, as probably it has, of 1 Works, x. 192. A CITIZEN OF PHILADELPHIA 29 making his doctrines more respected and more observed; especially as I do not see that the Supreme takes it amiss by distinguishing the un- believers in his government of the world with any peculiar marks of his displeasure." His God was substantially the God of Christianity; but con- cerning Christ he was generally reticent and non- committal. Whatever were his own opinions, which un- doubtedly underwent some changes during his life, as is the case with most of us, he never introduced Christianity, as a faith, into any of his moral writ- ings. A broad human creature, with a marvelous knowledge of mankind, with a tolerance as far- reaching as his knowledge, with a kindly liking for all men and women ; withal a prudent, shrewd, cool-headed observer in affairs, he was content to insist that goodness and wisdom were valuable, as means, towards good repute and well-being, as ends. He urges upon his nephew, about to start in business as a goldsmith, "perfect honesty ; " and the reason he gives for his emphasis is, that the business is peculiarly liable to suspicion, and if a man is "once detected in the smallest fraud . . . at once he is ruined." The character of his argu- ment was always simple. He usually began with some such axiom as the desirability of success in one's enterprises, or of health, or of comfort, or oi ease of mind, or a sufficiency of money; and tfoen he showed that some virtue, or collection of virtues, would promote this result. He advocated I 30 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN honesty upon the same principle upon which he advocated that women should learn to keep ac- counts, or that one should hold one's self in the background in the presentation of an enterprise such as his public library; that is to say, his ad- vocacy of a cardinal virtue, of acquiring a piece of knowledge, or of adopting a certain method of procedure in business, ran upon the same line, namely, the practical usefulness of the virtue, the knowledge, or the method, for increasing the prob- ability of a practical success in worldly affairs. Among the articles inculcating morality which he used to put into his newspaper was a Socratic Dialogue, "tending to prove that whatever might be his parts and abilities, a vicious man could not properly be called a man of sense." He was forever at this business ; it was his nature to teach, to preach, to moralize. With creeds he had no concern, but took it as his func- tion in life to instruct in what may be described as useful morals, the gospel of good sense, the excellence of common humanity. About the time in his career which we have now reached this ten- dency of his had an interesting development in its relationship to his own character. He "conceiv'd the bold and arduous project of arriving at moral perfection." It is impossible to recite the details of his scheme, but the narration constitutes one of the most entertaining and characteristic parts of the autobiography. Such a plan could not long be confined in its operation to himself alone ; the A CITIZEN OF PHILADELPHIA 31 teacher must teach; accordingly he designed to write a book, to be called "The Art of Virtue," a title with which he was greatly pleased, as in- dicating that the book was to show "the means and manner of obtaining virtue " as contradistin- guished from the "mere exhortation to be good, that does not instruct or indicate the means." A receipt book for virtues! Practical instruc- tions for acquiring goodness ! Nothing could have been more characteristic. One of his Busy-Body papers, February 18, 1728, begins with the state- ment that : " It is said that the Persians, in their ancient constitution, had public schools in which virtue was taught as a liberal art, or science;" and he goes on to laud the plan highly. Perhaps this was the origin of the idea which subsequently became such a favorite with him. It was his " design to explain and enforce this doctrine : that vicious actions are not hurtful because they are forbid- den, but forbidden because they are hurtful, the nature of man alone considered; that it was therefore every o*he's interest to be virtuous who wished to be happy even in this world ; and I should . . . have endeavored to convince young persons that no qualities were so likely to make a poor man's fortune as those of probity and integrity." Long years afterward, in 1760, he wrote about it to Lord Karnes : — " Many people lead bad lives that would gladly lead good ones, but do not know how to make the change. . . . To expect people to be good, to be just, to be temperate, 32 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN etc., without showing them how they should become so seems like the ineffectual charity mentioned by the apostle, which consists in saying to the hungry, the cold, and the naked, ' Be ye fed, be ye warmed, be ye clothed,' without showing them how they should get food, fire, or clothing. . . . To acquire those [virtues] that are want- ing, and secure what we acquire, as well as those we have naturally, is the subject of an art. It is as pro- perly an art as painting, navigation, or architecture. If a man would become a painter, navigator, or architect, it is not enough that he is advised to be one, that he is convinced by the arguments of his adviser that it would be for his advantage to be one, and that he resolves to be one ; but he must also be taught the principles of the art, be shown all the methods of working, and how to acquire the habit of using properly all the instruments. . . . My ' Art of Virtue ' has also its instruments, and teaches the manner of using them." He was then full of zeal to give this instruction. A year later he said: "You will not doubt my being serious in the intention of finishing my ' Art of Virtue.' It is not a mere ideal work. I planned it first in 1732. . . . The materials have been growing ever since. The form only is now to be given." He even says that "experiments" had been made "with success; " one wonders how; but he gives no explanation. Apparently Frank- lin never definitely abandoned this pet design ; one catches glimpses of it as still alive in his mind, until it seems to fade away in the dim obscurity of extreme old age. He said of it that it was A CITIZEN OF PHILADELPHIA 33 only part of "a great and extensive project that required the whole man to execute," and his coun- trymen never allowed Franklin such uninterrupted possession of himself. A matter more easy of accomplishment was the drawing up a creed which he thought to contain "the essentials of every known religion," and to be "free of everything that might shock the pro- y fessors of any religion." He intended that this should serve as the basis of a sect, which should practice his rules for self -improvement. It was at first to consist of "young and single men only," and great caution was to be exercised in the admis- sion of members. The association was to be called the "Society of the Free and Easy," "free, as being, by the general practice and habit of the virtues, free from the dominion of vice ; and par- ticularly by the practice of industry and frugality free from debt, which exposes a man to confine- ment and a species of slavery to his creditors." It is hardly surprising to hear that this was one of the very few failures of Franklin's life. In 1788 he professed himself "still of the opinion that it was a practicable scheme." One hardly reads it without a smile nowadays, but it was not so out of keeping with the spirit and habits of those times. It indicates at least Franklin's appreciation of the v power of fellowship, of association. No man knew better than he what stimulus comes from the sense of membership in a society, especially a secret society. He had a great fondness for organizing 34 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN men into associations, and a singular aptitude for creating, conducting, and perpetuating such bodies. The Junto, a child of his active brain, became a power in local public affairs, though organized and conducted strictly as a "club of mutual im- provement." He formed it among his "ingenious acquaintance" for the discussion of "queries on any point of morals, politics, or natural philo- sophy." He found his model, without doubt, in the "neighborhood benefit societies," established by Cotton Mather, during Franklin's boyhood, among the Boston churches, for mutual improve- ment among the members. 1 In time there came a great pressure for an increase of the number of members ; but Franklin astutely substituted a plan whereby each member was to form a subordinate club, similar to the original, but having no know- ledge of its connection with the Junto. Thus sprang into being five or six more, "The Vine, The Union, The Band," etc., "answering, in some considerable degree, our views of influencing the public opinion upon particular occasions." When Franklin became interested in any matter, he had but to introduce it before the Junto for discussion ; straightway each member who belonged to any one of the other societies brought it up in that society. Thus through so many active-minded and dispu- tatious young men interest in the subject speedily percolated through a community of no greater size than Philadelphia. Franklin was the tap-root of 1 Parton's Life of Franklin, i. 47. A CITIZEN OF PHILADELPHIA 35 the whole growth, and sent his ideas circulating throughout all the widespreading branches. He tells us that in fact he often used this efficient machinery to much advantage in carrying through his public and quasi public measures. Thus he anticipated more powerful mechanisms of the like kind, such as the Jacobin Club ; and he him- self, under encouraging circumstances, might have wielded an immense power as the creator and occult, inspiring influence of some great political society. Besides his didactic newspaper, his almanac even more didactic, the Junto, the subscription library, the Society of the Free and Easy, his system of religion and morals, and his scheme for acquiring all the virtues, Franklin was engaged in many other matters. He learned French, Italian, and Spanish; and in so doing evolved some notions which are now beginning to find their way into the system of teaching languages in our schools and colleges. In 1736 he was chosen clerk to the General Assembly, and continued to be reelected during the next fourteen years, until he was chosen a member of the legislature itself. In 1737 he was appointed postmaster of Philadelphia, an office which he found "of great advantage, for, tho' the salary was small, it facilitated the corre- spondence that improv'd my newspaper, increased the number demanded, as well as the advertise- ments to be inserted, so that it came to afford me a considerable income. My old competitor's news- 36 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN paper declined proportionably, and I was satisfied without retaliating his refusal, while postmaster, to permit my papers being carried by the riders." Soon afterward he conferred a signal benefit on his countrymen by inventing an u open stove for the better warming of rooms, and at the same time saving fuel," — the Franklin stove, or, as he called it, " the Pennsylvania fireplace." Mr. Parton warmly describes it as the beginning of " the American stove system, one of the wonders of the industrial world." Franklin refused to take out a patent for it, "from a principle which has ever weighed with me on such occasions, viz. : That as we enjoy great advantages from the inventions of others, we should be glad of an opportunity to serve others by any invention of ours; and this we should do freely and generously." This lofty sentiment, wherein the philanthropist got the better of the man of business, overshot its mark ; an ironmonger of London, who did not combine philosophy and philanthropy with his trade, made "some small changes in the machine, which rather hurt its operation, got a patent for it there, and made a little fortune by it." A little later Franklin founded a philosophical society, not intended to devote its energies to abstractions, but rather to a study of nature, and the spread of new discoveries and useful know- ledge in practical affairs, especially in the way of farming and agriculture. Franklin always had a fancy for agriculture, and conferred many a boon A CITIZEN OF PHILADELPHIA 37 upon the tillers of the soil. A good story, which may be true, tells how he showed the fertilizing capacity of plaster of Paris. In a field by the roadside he wrote, with plaster, this has been plastered; and soon the brilliant green of the letters carried the lesson to every passer-by. In 1743 Franklin broached the idea of an acad- emy ; but the time had not quite come when the purse-strings of well-to-do Pennsylvanians could be loosened for this purpose, and he had no suc- cess. It was, however, a project about which he was much in earnest, and a few years later he returned to it with better auspices. He succeeded in getting it under weigh by means of private sub- scriptions. It soon vindicated its usefulness, drew funds and endowments from various sources, and became the University of Pennsylvania. Franklin tells an amusing story about his subsequent con- nection with it. Inasmuch as persons of several religious sects had contributed to the fund, it was arranged that the board of trustees should consist of one member from each sect. After a while the Moravian died; and his colleagues, having found him obnoxious to them, resolved not to have another of the same creed. Yet it was difficult 1 to find any one who did not belong to, and there- fore unduly strengthen, some sect already repre- sented. Finally Franklin was mentioned as being "merely an honest man, and of no sect at all." The recommendation secured his election. It was always a great cause of his success and influ- 38 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN ence that nothing could be alleged against his cor- rect and respectable exterior and prudent, moderate deportment. He now endeavored to reorganize the system, if system it can be called, of the night-watch in Philadelphia. His description of it is pictur- esque : — " It was managed by the constables of the respective wards, in turn ; the constable warned a number of housekeepers to attend him for the night. Those who chose never to attend paid him six shillings to be ex- cus'd, which was supposed to be for hiring substitutes, but was, in reality, much more than was necessary for that purpose, and made the constableship a place of profit ; and the constable, for a little drink, often got such ragamuffins about him as a watch, that respectable housekeepers did not choose to mix with. Walking the rounds, too, was often neglected, and most of the nights spent in tippling." But even Franklin's influence was overmatched by this task. An abuse, nourished by copious rum, strikes its roots deep, and many years elapsed before this one could be eradicated. In another enterprise Franklin shrewdly enlisted the boon-companion element on his side, with the result of immediate and brilliant success. He be- gan as usual by reading a paper before the Junto, and through this intervention set the people think- ing concerning the utter lack of any organization for extinguishing fires in the town. In conse- quence the Union Fire Company was soon estab- A CITIZEN OF PHILADELPHIA 39 lished, the first tiling of the kind in the city. Franklin continued a member of it for half a cen- tury. It was thoroughly equipped and efficiently conducted. An item in the terms of association was that the members should spend a social even- ing together once a month. The example was followed; other companies were formed, and fifty years later Franklin boasted that since that time the city had never "lost by fire more than one or two houses at a time ; and the flames have often been extinguished before the house in which they began has been half consumed." About this time he became interested in the matter of the public defenses, and wrote a pam- phlet, "Plain Truth," showing the helpless con- dition of Pennsylvania as against the French and their Indian allies. The result was that the peo- ple were alarmed and aroused. Even the Quakers winked at the godless doings of their fellow citi- zens, while the enrollment and drill of a volunteer force went forward, and funds were raised for building and arming a battery. Franklin sug- gested a lottery, to raise money, and went to New York to borrow guns. He was very active and very successful; and though the especial crisis fortunately passed away without use being made of these preparations, yet his energy and efficiency greatly enhanced his reputation in Pennsylvania. That Franklin had been prospering in his pri- vate business may be judged from the facts that in 1748 he took into partnership David Hall, who 40 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN had been a fellow journeyman with him in Lon- don; and that his purpose was substantially to retire and get some "leisure . . . for philoso- phical studies and amusements." He cherished the happy but foolish notion of becoming master of his own time. But his fellow citizens had pur- poses altogether inconsistent with those pleasing and comfortable plans which he sketched so cheer- fully in a letter to his friend Colden in September, 1748. The Philadelphians, whom he had taught thrift, were not going to waste such material as he was. "The publick," he found, " now consider- ing me as a man of leisure, laid hold of me for their purposes; every part of our civil govern- ment, and almost at the same time, imposing some duty upon me. The governor put me into the commission of the peace; the corporation of the city chose me of the common council, and soon after an alderman; and the citizens at large chose me a burgess to represent them in the Assembly." This last position pleased him best, and he turned himself chiefly to its duties, with the gratifying result, as he records, that the "trust was repeated every year for ten years, without my ever asking any elector for his vote, or signifying, either di- rectly or indirectly, any desire of being chosen." The next year he was appointed a commissioner to treat with the Indians, in which business he had so much success as can ever attend upon engage- ments with savages. He gives an amusing account of the way in which all the Indian emissaries got A CITIZEN OF PHILADELPHIA 41 drunk, and of their quaint apology : that the Great Spirit had made all things for some use; that "when he made rum, he said, ' Let this be for the Indians to get drunk with; ' and it must be so." In 1751 he assisted Dr. Bond in the foundation of his hospital. 'The doctor at first tried to carry out his scheme alone, but could not. The tran- quil vanity of Franklin's narration is too good to be lost : " At length he came to me, with the com- pliment that he found there was no such thing as carrying a public-spirited project through, without my being concerned in it. ' For, ' says he, 4 I am often asked by those to whom I propose subscrib- ing, Have you consulted Franklin upon this busi- ness? and what does he think of it? And when I tell them that I have not (supposing it rather out of your line), they do not subscribe, but say they will consider of it.'" It is surprising that this artful and sugar-tongued doctor, who evidently could read his man, had not been more success- ful with his subscription list. With Franklin, at least, he was eminently successful, touching him with a consummate skill which brought prompt re- sponse and cooperation. The result was as usual. Franklin's hand knew the way to every Philadel- phian merchant's pocket. Respected as he was, it may be doubted whether he was always sincerely welcomed as he used to move from door to door down those tranquil streets, with an irresistible subscription paper in his hand. In this case pri- vate subscriptions were eked out by public aid. 42 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN The legislature was applied to for a grant. The country members objected, said that the benefit would be local, and doubted whether even the Philadelphians wanted it. Thereupon Franklin drew a bill, by which the State was to give <£2000 upon condition that a like sum should be raised from private sources. This was soon done. Frank- lin regarded his device as a novelty and a ruse in legislation. He complacently says: "I do not remember any of my political manoeuvres, the success of which gave me at the time more plea- sure, or wherein, after thinking of it, I more easily excused myself for having made some use of cun- ning." Simple times, in which such an act could be described as a "manoeuvre" and "cunning! " He further turned his attention to matters of local improvement. He got pavements laid ; and even brought about the sweeping of the streets twice in each week. Lighting the streets came almost simultaneously; and in connection with this he showed his wonted ingenuity. Globes open only at the top had heretofore been used, and by reason of the lack of draft, they became obscured by smoke early in the evening. Frank- lin made them of four flat panes, with a smoke- funnel, and crevices to admit the air beneath. The Londoners had long had the method before their eyes, every evening, at Vauxhall; but had never got at the notion of transferring it to the open streets. For a long while Franklin was employed by the A CITIZEN OF PHILADELPHIA 43 postmaster-general of the colonies as "his comp- troller in regulating several offices and bringing the officers to account." In 1753 the incumbent died, and Franklin and Mr. William Hunter, jointly, were appointed his successors. They set to work to reform the entire postal service of the country. The first cost to themselves was consid- erable, the office falling more than £900 in debt to them during the first four years. But there- afterward the benefit of their measures was felt, and an office which had never before paid any- thing to that of Great Britain came, under their administration, "to yield three times as much clear revenue to the crown as the post-office of Ireland." Franklin narrates that in time he was displaced "by a freak of the ministers," and in happy phrase adds, "Since that imprudent transaction, they have received from it — not one farthing!" In this connection it may be worth while to quote Franklin's reply to a request to give a position to his nephew, a young man whom he liked well, and otherwise aided. "If a vacancy should happen, it is very probable he may be thought of to supply it; but it is a rule with me not to remove any officer that behaves well, keeps regular accounts, and pays duly ; and I think the rule is founded on reason and justice." At this point in his autobiography he records, with just pride, that he received the degree of Master of Arts, first from Yale College and after- ward from Harvard. "Thus, without studying in 44 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN any college, I came to partake of their honors. They were conferred in consideration of my im- provements and discoveries in the electric branch of natural philosophy." An interesting page in the autobiography con- cerns events in the year 1754. There were distinct foreshadowings of that war between England and France which soon afterward broke out, beginning upon this side of the water earlier than in Europe; and the lords of trade ordered a congress of com- missioners from the several colonies to assemble at Albany for a conference with the chiefs of the Six Nations. They came together June 19, 1754. Franklin was a deputy from Pennsylvania; and on his way thither he "projected and drew a plan for the union of all the colonies under one govern- ment, so far as might be necessary for defense and other important general purposes? 3 IF was not altogether a new idea; in 1697 William Penn had suggested a commercial union and an annual con- gress. The journal of the congress shows that on June 24 it was unanimously voted that a union of the colonies was " absolutely necessary for their security and defense." The Massachusetts delega- tion alone had been authorized to consider the question of a union, and they had power to enter into a confederation "as well in time of peace as of war." Franklin had ahead}*- been urging this policy by writings in the "Gazette," and now, when the ideas of the different commissioners were brought into comparison, his were deemed the A CITIZEN OF PHILADELPHIA 45 best. His outline of a scheme, he says, "hap- pen'd to be preferr'd," and, with a few amend- ments, was accordingly reported. It was a league rather than a union, somewhat resembling the arrangement which came into existence for the purposes of the Revolution. But^ it came to no- thing; "its fate," Franklin said, "was singular." It was closely debated, article by article, and hav- ing at length been "pretty unanimously accepted, it came before the colonial assemblies for ratifica- tion." But they condemned it; "there was too l much prerogative in it," they thought. On the other hand, the board of trade in England would not approve it because it had "too much of the democratic." All which led Franklin to "suspect that it was really the true medium." He himself 1 acknowledged that one main advantage of it would be "that the colonies would, by this connection, learn to consider themselves, not as so many inde- pendent states, but as members of the same body ; and thence be more ready to afford assistance and support to each other," etc. It was already the national idea which lay, not quite formulated, yet distinct enough in his mind. It was hardly to be expected that the home government would fail to see this tendency, or that they would look upon it with favor. Franklin long afterward indulged in some speculations as to what might have been the consequences of an adoption of his scheme, namely: united colonies, strong enough to defend themselves against the Canadian French and their 46 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN Indian allies; no need, therefore, of troops from England; no pretext, therefore, for taxing the provinces; no provocation, therefore, for rebellion. "But such mistakes are not new; history is full of the errors of states and princes. . . . The best public measures are seldom adopted from previous wisdom but forced by the occasion." But this sketch of what might have been sounds over-fan- ciful, and the English were probably right in thinking that a strong military union, with home taxation, involved more of danger than of safety for the future connection between the colonies and the mother country. There was much uneasiness, much planning, theorizing, and discussing going on at this time about the relationship between Great Britain and her American provinces; earlier stages of that talk which kept on growing louder, more eager, and more disputatious, until it was swallowed up in the roar of the revolutionary cannon. Among others, Shirley, governor of Massachusetts, con- cocted a scheme and showed it to Franklin. By this an assembly of the governors of all the colo- nies, attended by one or two members of their respective councils, was to have authority to take such measures as should seem needful for defense, with power to draw upon the English treasury to meet expenses, the amount of such drafts to be "re-imbursed by a tax laid on the colonies by act of Parliament." This alarming proposition at once drew forth three letters from Franklin, writ- A CITIZEN OF PHILADELPHIA 47 ten in December, 1754, and afterward published in the "London Chronicle" in December, 1766. His position amounted to this : that the business of self-defense and the expense thereof were matters neither beyond the abilities of the colonies, nor outside their willingness, and should therefore be managed by them. Their loyalty could be trusted; their knowledge must be the best; on the other hand, governors were apt to be untrustworthy, self-seeking, and ignorant of provincial affairs. But the chief emphasis of his protest falls against taxation without representation. He says: — " That it is supposed an undoubted right of English- men not to be taxed but by their own consent, given through their representatives. " That the colonists have no representative in Parlia- ment. " That compelling the colonists to pay money without their consent would be rather like raising contributions in an enemy's country, than taxing of Englishmen for their own public benefit. " That it would be treating them as a conquered peo- ple, and not as true British subjects." And so on ; traversing beforehand the same ground soon to be so thoroughly beaten over by the patriot writers and speakers of the colonies. In a very few years the line of argument became familiar, but for the present Franklin and a very few more were doing the work of suggestion and instruction for the people at large, teaching them by what logic their instinctive convictions could be maintained. 48 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN He further ingeniously snowed that the colonists were already heavily taxed in ways from which they could not escape. Taxes paid by British artificers came out of the colonial consumers, and the colonists were compelled to buy only from Britain those articles which they would otherwise be able to buy at much lower prices from other countries. Moreover, they were obliged to sell only in Great Britain, where heavy imposts served to curtail the net profits of the producer. Even such manufactures as could be carried on in the colonies were forbidden to them. He concluded : — " These kinds of secondary taxes, however, we do not complain of. though we have no share in the laying or disposing of them ; but to pay immediate, heavy taxes, in the laying, appropriation, and disposition of which we have no part, and which perhaps we may know to be as unnecessary as grievous, must seem hard measures to Englishmen, who cannot conceive that by hazarding their lives and fortunes in subduing and settling new countries, extending the dominion and increasing the commerce of the mother nation, they have forfeited the native rights of Britons, which they think ought rather to be given to them, as due to such merit, if they had been before in a state of slavery." A third letter discussed a proposition advanced by Shirley for giving the colonies representation in Parliament. Franklin was a little skeptical, and had no notion of being betrayed by a kiss. A real unification of the two communities lying upon either side of the Atlantic, and even a close ap- A CITIZEN OF PHILADELPHIA 49 proximation to proportionate representation, would constitute an excellent way out of the present diffi- culties. But he saw no encouragement to hope for this. In fact, the project of laying direct internal taxes upon the colonies by act of Parliament was taking firm root in the English mind, and colonial protests could not long stay the execution of the scheme. Even such grants of money as were made by some of the colonial legislatures were vetoed, on the ground that they were connected with en- croachments, schemes for independence, and an assumption of the right to exercise control in the matter of the public finances. 1 The Penns re- joiced. Thomas Penn wrote, doubtless with a malicious chuckle : " If the several assemblies will not make provision for the general service, an act of Parliament may oblige them here." He evi- dently thought that it would be very wholesome if government should become incensed and severe with the recalcitrants. During his discussion with Shirley, Franklin had been upon a visit to Boston. He "left New England," he says, "slowly, and with great reluc- tance;" for he loved the country and the people. He returned home to be swept into the hurly-burly of military affairs. War appropriations came hard from the legislature of the Quaker province ; but the occasion was now at hand when come they must. In the autumn of 1755 £60,000 were 1 Bancroft, Hist. U. S. iv. 176. 50 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN voted, chiefly for defense, and Franklin was one of the committee in charge of the expenditure. The border was already unsafe, and formal hostilities on a large scale were close at hand. France and England must fight it out for the possession of the new continent, which, boundless as it then seemed, was yet not big enough to admit of their both dwelling in it. France had been steadily pressing upon the northern and western frontiers of the British colonies, and she now held Crown Point, Niagara, the fort on the present site of Pittsburg, and the whole valley of the Ohio River. It seemed that she would confine the English to the strip along the coast which they already occu- pied. It is true that she offered to relinquish the Ohio valley to the savages, to be a neutral belt between the European nations on either side of it. But the proposal could not be accepted ; the French were much too clever in managing the Indians. Moreover, it was felt that they would never permanently desist from advancing. Then, too, the gallant Braddock was on his way across seas, with a little army of English regulars. Finally, the disproportion between the English and French in the New World was too great for the former to rest satisfied with a compromise. There were about 1,165,000 whites in the British provinces, and only about 80,000 French in Can- ada. The resources, also, of the former were in every respect vastly greater. These iron facts must tell; were already telling. Throughout this last A CITIZEN OF PHILADELPHIA 51 deadly grapple, now at hand, the French were in desperate earnest. History records few struggles wherein the strength of a combatant was more utterly spent, with more entire devotion, than was the case with these Canadian -French provinces. Every man gave himself to the fight, so literally that no one was left to till the fields, and erelong famine began its hideous work among the scanty forces. The English and Americans, on the other hand, were far from conducting the struggle with the like temper as the French; yet with such enormous advantages as they possessed, if they could not conquer a satisfactory peace in course of time, they ought to be ashamed of themselves. So no composition could be arranged; the Seven Years' War began, and to open it with becoming eclat Braddock debarked, a gorgeous spectacle in red and gold. Yet still there had as yet been in Europe no declaration of hostilities between Eng- land and France ; on the contrary, the government of the former country was giving very fair words to that of the latter; and in America the British professed only to intend "to repel encroachments. " 1 Franklin had to take his share of the disasters attendant upon the fatal campaign of Braddock. According to his notion that foolish officer and his two ill-behaved regiments should never, by good rights, have been sent to the provinces at all ; for the colonists, being able and willing to do their own fighting, should have been allowed to under- 1 Bancroft, Hist. U. S. iv. 182. 52 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN take it. But eleven years before this time the Duke of Bedford had declared it a dangerous policy to enroll an army of 20,000 provincials to serve against Canada, "on account of the inde- pendence it might create in those provinces, when they should see within themselves so great an army, possessed of so great a country by right of conquest." This anxiety had been steadily gain- ing ground. The home government did not choose "to permit the union of the colonies, as proposed at Albany, and to trust that union with their defense, lest they should thereby grow too military and feel their own strength, suspicions and jealousies being at this time entertained of them." So it was because the shadow of the Revolutionary War already darkened the visions of English statesmen that the gallant array of sol- diery, with the long train of American attendants, had to make that terrible march to failure and death. The Assembly of the Quaker province was sadly perturbed lest this arbitrary warrior, encamped hard by in Virginia, should "conceive violent prejudices against them, as averse to the service." In their alarm they had recourse to Franklin's shrewd wit and ready tongue. Accordingly, he visited Braddock under pretense of arranging for the transmission of mails during the campaign, stayed with him several days, and dined with him daily. There were some kinds of men, perhaps, whom Braddock appreciated better than he did A CITIZEN OF PHILADELPHIA 53 Indians; nor is it a slight proof of Franklin's extraordinary capacity for getting on well with every variety of human being that he could make himself so welcome to this testy, opinionated mili- tary martinet, who in every particular of nature and of training was the precise contrary of the provincial civilian. Franklin's own good will to the cause, or his ill luck, led him into an engagement, made just before his departure, whereby he undertook to procure horses and wagons enough for the trans- portation of the ordnance and all the appurte- nances of the camp. It was not a personal con- tract upon his part to furnish these ; he was neither to make any money, nor to risk any; he was simply to render the gratuitous service of indu- cing the Pennsylvania farmers to let out their horses, wagons, and drivers to the general. It was a difficult task, in which the emissaries of Braddock had utterly failed in Virginia. But Franklin conceived the opportunities to be better in his own province, and entered on the business with vigor and skill. Throughout the farming region he sent advertisements and circulars, cleverly devised to elicit what he wanted, and so phrased as to save him harmless from personal responsibility for any payment. Seven days' pay was to be "advanced and paid in hand" by him, the remainder to be paid by General Braddock, or by the paymaster of the army. He said, in clos- ing his appeal: "I have no particular interest in 54 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN this affair, as, except the satisfaction of endeavor- ing to do good, I shall have only my labor for my pains." But he was not to get off so easily; for, he says, "the owners, . . . alleging that they did not know General Braddock, or what dependence might be had on his promise, insisted on my bond for the performance, which I accordingly gave them." This was the more patriotic because Franklin was by no means dazzled by the pomp and parade of the doughty warrior, but on the contrary, reflecting on the probable character of the campaign, he had "conceived some doubts and some fears for the event." What happened every one knows. The losses of wagons and horses in the slaughter amounted to the doleful sum of .£20,000; "which to pay would have ruined me," wrote Franklin. Nevertheless the demands began at once to pour in upon him, and suits were insti- tuted. It was a grievous affair, and the end was by no means clear. It was easily possible that in place of his fortune, sacrificed in the public ser- vice, he might have only the sorry substitute of a claim against the government. But after many troubled weeks he was at length relieved of the heaviest portion of his burden, through General Shirley's appointment of a commission to audit and pay the claims for actual losses. Other sums due him, representing considerable advances which he had made at the outset in the business, and later for provisions, remained unpaid to the end A CITIZEN OF PHILADELPHIA 55 of his days. The British government in time probably thought the Revolution as efficient as a statute of limitations for barring that account At the moment, however, Franklin not only lost his money, but had to suffer the affront of being supposed even to be a gainer, and to have filled his own pockets. He indignantly denied that he had "pocketed a farthing;" but of course he was not believed. He adds, with delicious humor: "and, indeed, I have since learnt that immense fortunes are often made in such employments." Those, however, were simple, provincial days. In place of the money which he did not get, also of the further sum which he actually lost, he had to sat- isfy himself with the consolation derived from the approbation of the Pennsylvania Assembly, while also Braddock's dispatches gave him a good name with the officials in England, which was of some little service to him. A more comical result of the Braddock affair was that it made Franklin for a time a military man and a colonel. He had escaped being a clergyman and a poet, but he could not escape that common fate of Americans, the military title, the prevalence of which, it has been said, makes "the whole country seem a retreat of heroes." It befell Franklin in this wise: immediately after Brad- dock's defeat, in the panic which possessed the people and amid the reaction against professional soldiers, recourse was had to plain good sense, though unaccompanied by technical knowledge. 56 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN No one, as all the province knew, had such sound sense as Franklin, who was accordingly deputed to go to the western frontier with a small volunteer force, there to build three forts for the protection of the outlying settlements. "I undertook," he says, "this military business, though I did not con- ceive myself well qualified for it." It was a ser- vice involving much difficulty and hardship, with some danger ; General Braddock would have made a ridiculous failure of it; Franklin acquitted him- self well. What he afterward wrote of General Shirley was true of himself: "For, tho' Shirley was not bred a soldier, he was sensible and saga- cious in himself, and attentive to good advice from others, capable of forming judicious plans, and quick and active in carrying them into execu- tion." In a word, Franklin's military career was as creditable as it was brief. He was called for- ward at the crisis of universal dismay; he gave his popular influence and cool head to a peculiar kind of service, of which he knew much by hearsay, if nothing by personal experience ; he did his work well; and, much stranger to relate, he escaped the delusion that he was a soldier. So soon as he could do so, that is to say after a few weeks, he returned to his civil duties. But he had shown courage, intelligence, and patriotism in a high degree, and he had greatly increased the confidence reposed in him by his fellow citizens. Beyond those active military measures which the exigencies of the time made necessary, Franklin A CITIZEN OF PHILADELPHIA 57 fell in with, if he did not originate, a plan designed to afford permanent protection in the future. This was to extend the colonies inland. His no- tions were broad, embracing much both in space and time. He thought "what a glorious thing it would be to settle in that fine country a large, strong body of religious, industrious people. What a security to the other colonies and advan- tage to Britain by increasing her people, terri- tory, strength, and commerce." He foretold that "perhaps in less than another century" the Ohio valley might "become a populous and powerful dominion, and a great accession of power either to England or France." Having this scheme much at heart, he drew up a sort of prospectus "for set- tling two western colonies in North America;" "barrier colonies " they were called by Governor Pownall, who was warm in the same idea, and sent a plan of his own, together with Franklin's, to the home government. It is true that these new settlements, regarded strictly as bulwarks, would have been only a change of "barrier," an advancement of frontier; they themselves would become frontier instead of the present line, and would be equally subject to Indian and French assaults. Still the step was in the direction of growth and expansion ; it was advancing and aggressive, and indicated an appre- ciation of the enormous motive power which lay in English colonization. Franklin pushed it ear- nestly, interested others in it, and seemed at one 58 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN time on the point of securing the charters. But the conquest of Canada within a very short time rendered defensive colonization almost needless, and soon afterward the premonitions and actual outbreak of the Revolution put an end to all schemes in this shape. CHAPTER III REPRESENTATIVE OF PENNSYLVANIA IN ENGLAND : RETURN HOME It was not possible to make a world-wide repu- tation in the public affairs of the province of Pennsylvania; but so much fame as opportunity would admit of had by this time been won by Franklin. In respect of influence and prestige among his fellow colonists none other came near to him. Meanwhile among all his crowding occu- pations he had found time for those scientific re- searches towards which his heart always yearned. He had flown his famous kite ; had entrapped the lightning of the clouds; had written treatises, which, having been collected into a volume, " were much taken notice of in England," made no small stir in France, and were "translated into the Ital- ian, German, and Latin languages." A learned French abbe, "preceptor in natural philosophy to the royal family, and an able experimenter," at first controverted his discoveries and even ques- tioned his existence. But after a little time this worthy scientist became "assur'd that there really existed such a person as Franklin at Philadel- phia," while other distinguished scientific men 60 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN of Europe united in the adoption of his theories. Kant called him the Prometheus of modern times. Thus, in one way and another, his name had prob- ably already come to be more widely known than that of any other living man who had been born on this side of the Atlantic. It might have been even much more famous, had he been more free to follow his own bent, a pleasure which he could only enjoy in a very limited degree. In 1753 he wrote : " I am so engaged in business, public and private, that those more pleasing pursuits [phi- losophical inquiries] are frequently interrupted, and the chain of thought necessary to be closely continued in such disquisitions is so broken and disjointed that it is with difficulty I satisfy myself in any of them." Similar complaints occur fre- quently, and it is certain that his extensive philo- sophical labors were all conducted in those mere cracks and crannies of leisure scantily interspersed amid the hours of a man apparently overwhelmed with the functions of active life. He was now selected by the Assembly to en- counter the perils of crossing the Atlantic upon an important mission in behalf of his province. For a long while past the relationship between the Penns, unworthy sons of the great William, and now the proprietaries, on the one side, and their quasi subjects, the people of the province, upon the other, had been steadily becoming more and more strained, until something very like a crisis had been reached. As usual in English and REPRESENTATIVE IN ENGLAND 61 Anglo-American communities, it was a quarrel over dollars, or rather over pounds sterling, a question of taxation, which was producing the alienation. At bottom, there was the trouble which always pertains to absenteeism; the pro- prietaries lived in England, and regarded their vast American estate, with about 200,000 white inhabitants, only as a source of revenue. That mercantile community, however, with the thrift of Quakers and the independent temper of Eng- lishmen, had a shrewd appreciation of, and an ob- stinate respect for, its own interests. Hence the discussions, already of threatening proportions. The chief point in dispute was, whether or not the waste lands, still directly owned by the pro- prietaries, and other lands let by them at quit- rents, should be taxed in the same manner as like property of other owners. They refused to sub- mit to such taxation ; the Assembly of Burgesses insisted. In ordinary times the proprietaries pre- vailed; for the governor was their nominee and removable at their pleasure; they gave him gen- eral instructions to assent to no law taxing their holdings, and he naturally obeyed his masters. But since governors got their salaries only by virtue of a vote of the Assembly, it seems that they sometimes disregarded instructions, in the sacred cause of their own interests. After a while, therefore, the proprietaries, made shrewd by experience, devised the scheme of placing their unfortunate sub-rulers under bonds. This went v 62 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN far towards settling the matter. Yet in such a crisis and stress as were now present in the colony, when exceptionally large sums had to be raised, and great sacrifices and sufferings endured, and when little less than the actual existence of the province might be thought to be at stake, it cer- tainly seemed that the rich and idle proprietaries might stand on the same footing with their poor and laboring subjects. They lived comfortably in England upon revenues estimated to amount to the then enormous sum of £20,000 sterling; while the colonists were struggling under unusual losses, as well as enormous expenses, growing out of the war and Indian ravages. At such a time their parsimony, their "incredible meanness," as Frank- lin called it, was cruel as well as stupid. At last the Assembly flatly refused to raise any money unless the proprietaries should be burdened like the rest. All should pay together, or all should go to destruction together. The Penns too stood obstinate, facing the not less resolute Assembly. It was indeed a deadlock! Yet the times were such that neither party could afford to maintain its ground indefinitely. So a temporary arrange- ment was made, whereby of £60,000 sterling to be raised the proprietaries agreed to contribute £5000, and the Assembly agreed to accept the same in lieu or commutation for their tax. But neither side abandoned its principle. Before long more money was needed, and the dispute was as fierce as ever. REPRESENTATIVE IN ENGLAND . 63 The burgesses now thought that it would be well to carry a statement of their case before the king in council and the lords of trade. In Febru- ary, 1757, they named their speaker, Isaac Norris, and Franklin to be their emissaries "to represent in England the unhappy situation of the province," and to seek redress by an act of Parliament. Nor- ris, an aged man, begged to be excused ; Franklin accepted. His son was given leave of absence, in order to attend him as his secretary. During the prolonged and bitter controversies Franklin had been the most prominent member of the Assem- bly on the popular side. He had drawn many of the addresses, arguments, and other papers; and his familiarity with the business, therefore, no less than his good judgment, shrewdness, and tact united to point him out as the man for the very unpleasant and difficult errand. A portion of his business also was to endeavor to induce the king to resume the province of Penn- sylvania as his own. A clause in the charter had reserved this right, which could be exercised on payment of a certain sum of money. The colo- nists now preferred to be an appanage of the crown rather than a fief of the Penns. Oddly enough, some of the provincial governors were suggesting the like measure concerning other provinces; but from widely different motives. The colonists thought a monarch better than private individuals, as a master; while the governors thought that only the royal authority could enforce their theory 64 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN of colonial government. They angrily complained that the colonies would do nothing voluntarily; a most unjust charge, as was soon to be seen; for in the Seven Years' War the colonists did three quarters of all that was done. What the gover- nors really meant was that the colonies would not raise money and turn it over to other persons to spend for them. It must be acknowledged that the prospects for the success of this mission were not good. Almost simultaneously with Franklin's appointment, the House of Commons resolved that "the claim of right in a colonial Assembly to raise and apply public money, by its own act alone, is derogatory to the crown, and to the rights of the people of Great Britain." This made Thomas Penn jubi- lant. "The people of Pennsylvania," he said, "will soon be convinced . . . that they have not a right to the powers of government they claim." 1 Franklin took his passage in a packet-ship, which was to sail from New York forthwith. But the vessel was subject to the orders of Lord Lou- doun, newly appointed governor of the province of New York, and a sort of military over-lord over all the governors, assemblies, and people of the American provinces. His mission was to organize, to introduce system and submission, and above all else to overawe. But he was no man for the task ; not because his lordship was not a dominant char- acter, but because he was wholly unfit to transact 1 Bancroft, Hist. U. S. iv. 255. REPRESENTATIVE IN ENGLAND 65 business. Franklin tried some negotiations with him, and got no satisfaction or conclusion. The ship which waited upon the will of this noble procrastinator had a very doubtful future. Every day at nine o'clock his lordship seated him- self at his desk, and stayed there writing indus- triously, hour after hour, upon his dispatches; every day he foretold with much accuracy and positiveness of manner that these would surely be ready, and the ship would inevitably sail, on the next day. Thus week after week glided by, and still he uttered the same prediction, "to-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow." Yet in spite of this wonderful industry of the great man his let- ters never got written, so that, says Franklin, "it was about the beginning of April that I came to New York, and I think it was the end of June before we sail'd." Even then the letters were not ready, and for two days the vessel had to accom- pany his lordship's fleet on the way towards Louis- burg, before she got leave to go upon her own proper voyage. It is entertaining to hear that this same lord, during his stay in America, detained other packets for other letters, until their bottoms got so foul and worm-eaten that they were unsea- worthy. lie was irreverently likened by those who waited on his pleasure to "St. George on the signs, always on horseback, and never rides on." He was at last removed by Mr. Pitt, because that energetic minister said "that he never heard from him, and could not know what was doing." 66 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN Escaping at last from a detention more tedious, if less romantic, than any which ever befell Ulys- ses, Franklin steered for England. The vessel was "several times chas'd " by French cruisers, and later was actually within a few lengths of be- ing wrecked on the Scilly rocks. Franklin wrote to his wife that if he were a Roman Catholic he should probably vow a chapel to some saint; but, as he was not, he should much like to vow a lighthouse. At length, however, he came safely into Falmouth, and on July 27, 1757, arrived in London. Immediately he was taken to see Lord Gran- ville, president of the council; and his account of the interview is too striking not to be given entire. His lordship, he says, . " received me with great civility ; and after some ques- tions respecting the present state of affairs in America and discourse thereupon, he said to me : ' You Americans have wrong ideas of the nature of your constitution ; you contend that the king's instructions to his governors are not laws, and think yourselves at liberty to regard or disregard them at your own discretion. But these in- structions are not like the pocket instructions given to a minister going abroad, for regulating his conduct on some trifling point of ceremony. They are first drawn up by judges learned in the laws ; they are then considered, debated, and perhaps amended, in council, after which they are signed by the king. They are then, so far as they relate to you, the law of the land, for the king is the legislator of the colonies.' I told his lordship this was new doctrine to me. I had always understood from REPRESENTATIVE IN ENGLAND 67 our charters that our laws were to be made by our assemblies, to be presented indeed to the king for his royal assent ; but that being once given, the king could not repeal or alter them. And as the assemblies could not make permanent laws without his assent, so neither could he make a law for them without theirs. He assured me I was totally mistaken. I did not think so, however ; and his lordship's conversation having some- what alarmed me as to what might be the sentiments of the court concerning us, I wrote it down as soon as I returned to my lodgings." 1 Granville also defended the recent act of Par- liament laying "grievous restrictions on the export of provisions from the British colonies," the intent being to distress the American possessions of France by famine. His lordship said: "America must not do anything to interfere with Great Britain in the European markets." Franklin replied: "If we plant and reap, and must not ship, your lordship should apply to Parliament for transports to bring us all back again." Next came an interview with the proprietaries. Each side declared itself disposed towards "rea- sonable accommodations; " but Franklin supposed that "each party had its own "ideas of what should be meant by reasonable." Nothing came of all this palaver; which only meant that time was being wasted to no better purpose than to show that the two parties were "very wide, and so far from each 1 Works, i. 295, 296; see also an account, substantially the same, in letter to Bowdoin, January 13, 1772. 68 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN other in [their] opinions as to discourage all hope of agreement." But this had long been evident. The lawyer of the proprietaries was then put forward. He was a "proud, angry man," with a "mortal enmity" toward Franklin; for the two had ex- changed buffets more than once already, and the "proud angry man" had been hit hard. It had been his professional duty, as counsel for the Penns, to prepare many papers to be used by their governor in the course of their quarrels with the Assembly. It had usually fallen to Franklin's lot to draft the replies of the Assembly, and by Franklin's own admission these documents of his, like those which they answered, were "often tart and sometimes indecently abusive." Franklin now found his old antagonist so excited that it seemed best to refuse to have any direct dealings with him. The proprietaries then put their interests in charge of Attorney-General Pratt, afterwards Lord Camden, and the Solicitor-General Charles Yorke, afterward lord chancellor. These legal luminaries consumed "a year, wanting eight days " before they were in a condition to impart light; and during that period Franklin could of course achieve nothing with the proprietaries. After all, the proprietaries ignored and insulted him, and made further delay by sending a message to the Assembly of Pennsylvania, wherein they com- plained of Franklin's "rudeness," and professed themselves "willing to accommodate matters," if REPRESENTATIVE IN ENGLAND 69 a "person of candour" should be sent to treat with them. The only reply to their message came in the pointed and intelligible shape of an act "taxing the proprietary estate in common with the estates of the people." Much disturbed, the pro- prietaries now obtained a hearing before the king in council. They requested his majesty to set aside this tax act, and several other acts which had been passed within two years by the Assembly. Of these other acts some were repealed, according to the prayer of the proprietaries; but more were allowed to stand. These were, however, of com- paratively little consequence; the overshadowing grievance for the Penns lay in this taxation of their property. Concerning this it was urged by their counsel that the proprietaries were held in such odium by the people that, if left to the popu- lar "mercy in apportioning the taxes, they would be ruined." The other side, of course, vehemently denied that there was the slightest ground for such a suspicion. In June, 1760, the board of trade rendered a report very unfavorable to the Assembly. Their language showed that they had been much affected by the appearance of popular encroachments, and by the allegations of an intention on the part of the colonists "to establish a democracy in place of his majesty's government." Their advice was to bring "the constitution back to its proper prin- ciples ; to restore to the crown, in the person of the proprietaries, its just prerogative; to check the 70 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN growing influence of assemblies, by distinguishing, what they are perpetually confounding, the exec- utive from the legislative power." News of this alarming document reached Franklin just as he was about to start upon a trip through Ireland. It put an end to that pleasure ; he had to set to work on the moment, with all the zeal and by all the means he could compass, to counteract this fulmination. Just how he achieved so difficult an end is not recorded; but it appears that he suc- ceeded in securing a further hearing, in the pro- gress of which Lord Mansfield "rose, and beckon- ing me, took me into the clerk's chambers, . . . and asked me, if I was really of opinion that no injury would be done to the proprietary estate in the execution of the act. I said: Certainly. 4 Then,' says he, ' you can have little objection to enter into an engagement to assure that point. ' I answered: None at all." Thereupon a paper of this purport, binding personally upon Franklin and upon Mr. Charles, the resident agent of the province, was drawn up, and was duly executed by them both ; and on August 28 the lords filed an amended report, in which they said that the act taxing the proprietary estates upon a common basis with those of other owners was "fundamen- tally wrong and unjust and ought to be repealed, unless six certain amendments were made therein." These amendments were, in substance, the under- takings entered into in the bond of the colonial agents. Franklin soon afterward had occasion to REPRESENTATIVE IN ENGLAND 71 review this whole business. He showed that of the six amendments, five were immaterial, since they only expressed with greater clearness the intent of the Assembly. He admitted that the sixth was of more consequence. It seems that £100,000 had been voted, appropriated, raised, and ex- pended, chiefly for the defense of the colony. The manner of doing this was to issue paper money to this amount, to make it legal tender, and then to retire it by the proceeds of the tax levy. The proprietaries insisted that they could not be com- pelled to receive their rents in this money, and the lords now found for them. Franklin acknow- ledged that herein perhaps the lords were right and the Assembly wrong; but he added this scathing paragraph : — " But if he cannot on these considerations quite ex- cuse the Assembly, what will he think of those honour- able proprietaries, who, when paper money was issued in their colony for the common defense of their vast estates with those of the people, could nevertheless wish to be exempted from their share of the unavoidable dis- advantages. Is there upon earth a man besides, with any conception of what is honest, with any notion of honor, with the least tincture in his veins of the gentle- man, but would have blushed at the thought, but would have rejected with disdain such undue preference, if it had been offered him ? Much less would he have strug- gled for it, moved heaven and earth to obtain it, resolved to ruin thousands of his tenants by a repeal of the act, rather than miss of it, and enforce it afterwards by an 72 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN audaciously wicked instruction, forbidding aids to his king, and exposing the province to destruction, unless it was complied with. And yet, these are honourable men ! " This was, however, altogether a subordinate issue. The struggle had really been conducted to determine whether the proprietary estate should be taxed like other estates, and the decision upheld such taxation. This was a complete triumph for the Assembly and their representative. "But let the proprietaries and their discreet deputies here- after recollect and remember," said Franklin, "that the same august tribunal, which censured some of the modes and circumstances of that act, did at the same time establish and confirm the grand principle of the act, namely: 'That the pro- prietary estate ought, with other estates, to be taxed; ' and thereby did, in effect, determine and pronounce that the opposition so long made in various shapes to that just principle, by the pro- prietaries, was ' fundamentally wrong and m- jtutf" It was a long while before the Assembly found leisure to attend to that engagement of their agents which stipulated for an investigation to see whether the proprietaries had not been unduly and exces- sively assessed. But at length, after having had the spur of reminder constantly applied to their laggard memories, they appointed a committee to inquire and report concerning the valuations made by the tax-gatherers. REPRESENTATIVE IN ENGLAND 73 This committee reported that — " there has not been any injustice done to the proprie- taries, or attempts made to rate or assess any part of their estates higher than the estates of the like kind be- longing to the inhabitants are rated and assessed ; but, on the contrary, . . . their estates are rated, in many instances, below others." So the matter ended. Franklin had been detained a little more than three years about this business. At its conclusion he anticipated a speedy return home ; but he had to stay yet two years more to attend to sundry matters smaller in importance, but which were ad- vanced almost as slowly. Partly such delay was because the aristocrats of the board of trade and the privy council had not the habits of business men, but consulted their own noble convenience in the transaction of affairs; and partly it was because procrastination was purposely employed by his opponents, who harassed him and blocked his path by every obstacle, direct and indirect, which they could put in his way. For they seemed to hope for some turn in affairs, some event, or some too rapid advance of the popular party in America, which should arouse the royal resentment against the colonists and so militate on their side. Delay was easily brought about by them. They had money, connections, influence, and that famil- iarity with men and ways which came from their residence in England; while Franklin, a stranger on an unpopular errand, representing before an 74 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN aristocratic government a parcel of tradespeople and farmers who lived in a distant land and were charged with being both niggardly and disaffected, found that he could make only difficult and uncer- tain progress. He was like one who sails a race not only against hostile winds and tides, but also in strange waters where the shoals and rocks are unknown, and where invisible currents ceaselessly baffle his course. His lack of personal importance hampered him exasperatingly. Thus during his prolonged stay he repeatedly made every effort in his power to obtain an audience of William Pitt. But not even for once could he succeed. A pro- vincial agent, engaged in a squabble about taxing proprietary lands, was too small a man upon too small a business to consume the precious time of the great prime minister, who was endeavoring to dominate the embroilments and intrigues of all Europe, to say nothing of the machinations of his opponents at home. So the subalterns of Mr. Pitt met Franklin, heard what he had to say, sifted it through the sieve of their own discretion, and bore to the ears of their principal only such compends as they thought worthy of attention. But the vexation of almost endless delay had its alleviations, apparently much more than enough to offset it. Early in September, 1757, that is to say some five or six weeks after his landing, Franklin was taken very ill of an intermittent fever, which lasted for eight weeks. During his convalescence he wrote to his wife that the agree- REPRESENTATIVE IN ENGLAND 75 able conversation of men of learning, and the notice taken of him by persons of distinction, soothed him under this painful absence from fam- ily and friends; yet these solaces would not hold him there another week, were it not for duty to his country and the hope of being able to do it service. But after the early homesickness wore off, a great attachment for England took its place. He found himself a man of note among scientists there, who gave him a ready welcome and showed a courteous and flattering recognition of his high distinction in their pursuits. Thence it was easy to penetrate into the neighboring circle of litera- ture, wherein he made warm personal friends, such as Lord Karnes, David Hume, Dr. Robertson, and others. From time to time he was a guest at many a pleasant country seat, and at the univer- sities. He found plenty of leisure, too, for travel, and explored the United Kingdom very thoroughly. When he went to Edinburgh he was presented with the freedom of the city; and the University of St. Andrews conferred on him the degree of Doctor of Laws ; later, Oxford did the same. He even had time for a trip into the Low Countries. As months and finally years slipped away, with just enough of occupation of a dignified character to save him from an annoying sense of idleness, with abundant opportunities for social pleasure, and with a very gratifying deference shown towards himself, Franklin, who liked society and did not dislike flattery, began to think the mother 76 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN country no such bad place. For an intellectual and social career London certainly had advan- tages over Philadelphia. Mr. Strahan, the well- known publisher of those days, whom Franklin used affectionately to call Straney, became his close friend, and was very insistent with him that he should leave the provinces and take up a permanent residence in England. He baited his hook with an offer of his son in marriage with Franklin's daughter Sarah. He had never seen Sarah, but he seems to have taken it for granted that any child of her father must be matrimonially satisfactory. Franklin wrote home to his wife that the young man was eligible, and that there were abundant funds in the Strahan treasury, but that he did not suppose that she would be able to overcome her terror of the ocean voyage. Indeed, this timidity on the part of his wife was more than once put forward by him as if it were really the feather which turned the scale in the choice of his future residence. Franklin himself also was trying his hand at match-making. He had taken a great fancy to a young lady by the name of Mary Stevenson, with whom, when distance prevented their meeting, he kept up a constant correspondence concerning points of physical science. He now became very pressing with his son William to wed this learned maiden ; but the young man possibly did not hold a taste for science to be the most winning trait in woman; at any rate, having bestowed his affec- REPRESENTATIVE IN ENGLAND 77 tions elsewhere, lie refused to transfer them. So Franklin was compelled to give up his scheme, though with an extreme reluctance, which he expressed to the rejected damsel with amusing openness. Had either of these matrimonial bonds been made fast, it is not improbable that Franklin would have lived out the rest of his life as a friend of the colonies in England. But his lot was otherwise cast; a second time he escaped, though narrowly, the prospect of dying an Englishman and the subject of a king. At the moment he was not altogether glad that matters worked thus. On August 17, 1762, he wrote from Portsmouth to Lord Karnes : — " 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 have tendered me down exceedingly." And six days later, from the same place, he wrote to Strahan: "I cannot, I assure you, quit even this disagreeable place, without regret, as it carries me still farther from those I love, and from the opportunities of hearing of their welfare. The attraction of reason is at present for the other side of the water, but that of inclination will be for this side. You know which usually prevails. 78 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN I shall probably make but this one vibration and settle here forever. Nothing will prevent it, if I can, as I hope I can, prevail with Mrs. F. to accompany me, especially if we have a peace." Apparently the Americans owe a great debt of gratitude to Mrs. Franklin's fearfulness of the untrustworthy Atlantic. Before dismissing this stay of Franklin in Eng- land a word should be said concerning his efforts for the retention of Canada by the British, as spoils of war. The fall of Quebec, in the autumn of 1759, practically concluded the struggle in America. The French were utterly spent; they had no food, no money; they had fought with de- sperate courage and heroic self-devotion ; they could honestly say that they had stood grimly in the last trench, and had been slaughtered there until the starved and shattered remnant could not find it in their exhausted human nature longer to conduct a contest so thoroughly finished. In Europe, France was hardly less completely beaten. At the same time the singular position of affairs existed that the triumphant conqueror was even more resolutely bent upon immediate peace than were the conquered. George III., newly come to the throne, set himself towards this end with all the obstinacy of his resolute nature. It became a question of terms, and eager was the discussion thereof. The colonies were profoundly interested, for a question sharply argued was : whether Eng- land should retain Guadaloupe or Canada. She REPRESENTATIVE IN ENGLAND 79 had conquered both, but it seemed to be admitted that she must restore one. It was even then a comical bit of political mathematics to establish anything like an equation between the two, nor could it possibly have been done with reference to intrinsic values. It was all very well to dilate upon the sugar crop of the island, its trade, its fertility, its harborage. Every one knew that Canada could outweigh all these things fifty times over. But into the Guadaloupe scale was dropped a weighty consideration, which was clearly stated in an anonymous pamphlet attributed to William Burke. This writer said : — " If the people of our colonies find no check from Canada, they will extend themselves almost without bound into the inland parts. They will increase infi- nitely from all causes. What the consequence will be, to have a numerous, hardy, independent people, possessed of a strong country, communicating little or not at all with England, I leave to your own reflections. By eagerly grasping at extensive territory we may run the risk, and in no very distant period, of losing what we now possess. A neighbor that keeps us in some awe is not always the worst of neighbors. So that, far from sacrificing Guadaloupe to Canada, perhaps, if we might have Canada without any sacrifice at all, we ought not to desire it. There should be a balance of power in America. . . . The islands, from their weakness, can never revolt; but, 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." 80 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN From many other quarters came the same warn- ing predictions. 1 Franklin watched the controversy with deep interest and no small anxiety. As the argument grew heated he could no longer hold his hand ; he cast into the Canadian scale an able pamphlet, ingenuous in the main if not in all the details. It is not worth while to rehearse what he had to say upon mercantile points, or even concerning the future growth of a great American empire. What he had really to encounter was the argument that it was sound policy to leave Canada in possession of the French. Those who pretended to want Guadaloupe did not so much really want it as they did wish to have Canada remain French. To make good this latter point they had to show, first, that French ownership involved no serious danger to the English possessions: second, that it brought positive advantages. To the first proposition they said that the French had fully learned their les- son of inferiority, and that a few forts on the frontier would easily overawe the hostile Indians. To the second proposition, they elaborated the argu- ments of William Burke. Franklin replied that the war-parties of braves would easily pass by the forts in the forests, and after burning, pillaging, murdering, and scalping, would equally easily and safely return. Nothing save a Chinese wall the whole length of the western frontier would suffice for protection against savages. Then, with 1 Bancroft, Hist. U. S. iv. 363-365. REPRESENTATIVE IN ENGLAND 81 one of those happy illustrations of which he was a master, he said : " In short, long experience has taught our planters that they cannot rely upon forts as a security against Indians ; the inhabitants of Hackney might as well rely upon the Tower of London, to secure them against highwaymen and house-breakers." The admirable simile could nei- ther be answered nor forgotten. Concerning the positive desirability of leaving the French as masters of Canada to "check " the growth of the colonies, Franklin indignantly ex- claimed: "It is a modest word, this ' check"* for massacring men, women, and children! " If Can- ada is to be "restored on this principle, . . . will not this be telling the French in plain terms, that the horrid barbarisms they perpetrate with Indians on our colonists are agreeable to us; and that they need not apprehend the resentment of a govern- ment with whose views they so happily concur. " But he had the audacity to say that he was abun- dantly certain that the mother country could never have any occasion to dread the power of the colo- nies. He said: — " I shall next consider the other supposition, that their growth may render them dangerous. Of this, I own, I have not the least conception, when I consider that we have already fourteen separate governments on the maritime coast of the continent ; and, if we extend our settlements, shall probably have as many more behind them on the inland side." By reason of the different governors, laws, interests, religions, and manners of 82 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN these, "their jealousy of each other is so great, that, however necessary a union of the colonies has long been, for their common defence and security against their enemies, and how sensible soever each colony has been of that necessity, yet they have never been able to effect such a union among themselves, nor even to agree in re- questing the mother country to establish it for them." If they could not unite for self-defence against the French and the murderous savages, " can it reasonably be supposed there is any danger of their uniting against their own nation, which protects and encourages them, with which they have so many connexions and ties of blood, interest, and affection, and which, it is well known, they all love much more than they love one another ? " In short 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. And if the union of the whole is impossible, the attempt of a part must be madness. . . . 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 winds blow. . . . 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." We read these words, even subject to the mild saving of the final sentences, with some bewilder- ment. Did their shrewd and well-informed writer believe what he said ? Was he casting this politi- cal horoscope in good faith? Or was he only uttering a prophecy which he desired, if possible, REPRESENTATIVE IN ENGLAND 83 and for his own purposes to induce others to be- lieve? If he was in earnest, Attorney-General Pratt was a better astrologer. "For all what you Americans say of your loyalty," he said to Frank- lin, "and notwithstanding your boasted affection, you will one day set up for independence." "No such idea," said Franklin, "is entertained by the Americans, or ever will be, unless you grossly abuse them." "Very true," said Pratt; "that I see will happen, and will produce the event." 1 Choiseul, the able French minister, expressed his wonder that the "great Pitt should be so attached to the acquisition of Canada," which, being in the hands of France, would keep the "colonies in that dependence which they will not fail to shake off the moment Canada shall be ceded." 2 Ver- gennes saw the same thing not less clearly; and so did many another. If Franklin was really unable to foresee in this business those occurrences which others predicted with such confidence, at least he showed a grand conception of the future, and his vision took in more distant and greater facts and larger truths of statesmanship than were compassed by the Brit- ish ministers. Witness what he wrote to Lord Karnes : — " I have long been of opinion that the foundations of the future grandeur and stability of the British empire lie in America. ... I am therefore by no means for restoring Canada. If we keep it, all the country from 1 Bancroft, Hist. U. S. iv. 380. 2 Ibid. iv. 399. 84 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN the St. Lawrence to the Mississippi will in another cen- tury be filled with British people. Britain itself will become vastly more populous by the immense increase to its commerce ; the Atlantic sea will be covered with your trading ships ; and your naval power, thence con- tinually increasing, will extend your influence round the whole globe, and awe the world." Whatever regret Franklin may have felt at not being able to remain in England was probably greatly mitigated if not entirely dissipated by the cordial reception which he met with at home. On December 2, 1762, he wrote to Strahan that the reports of the diminution of his friends were all false; that ever since his arrival his house had been full of a succession of them from morning till night, congratulating him on his return. The Assembly honored him with a vote of thanks, and also voted him £3000 towards defraying his ex- penses. It was, of course, much less than he had expended during an absence of nearly six years ; but it seems that he considered that, since much of his time had been passed in the enjoyment of an agreeable leisure, he should bear a corresponding part of the expense. While on the sea he had been chosen unanimously, as indeed had been done in each year of his absence, a member of that body; and he was told that, if he had not got so privately into town, he should have been met by an escort of 500 horsemen. All this must have been very gratifying. A different kind of tribute, somewhat indirect, 'fS^^u? Of the UNIVERSITY