Benjamin Franklin

Chapter 4

Chapter 44,039 wordsPublic domain

I am told by a specialist that the neatness and thoroughness of the reasoning by which Franklin established his theory before proceeding to experimentation are most laudable, and I am sure his letters of explanation have a literary charm not often found in scientific writing. The paper in which Franklin developed his theory and showed how it might be tested by drawing lightning from the clouds by means of a pointed wire set up on a steeple, was sent to his friend in England, and there printed; and at the suggestion of the great Buffon the same paper was translated into French. The pamphlet created a sensation in France, and the proposed experiment was actually performed in the presence of the king. Before the report, however, of the successful experiment reached Franklin he had himself verified his theory, using a kite to attain an altitude, as there was no spire or high building in Philadelphia. Taking his son with him, he went to an old cow house in the country, before a storm, and there, to catch the electric fluid, sent up his kite made of an old silk handkerchief. A wire extended from the upright stick of the kite, and this was connected with the cord, which when wet acted as a good conductor. The part of the cord held in his hand was of silk, and between this and the wet hempen cord a key was inserted and connected with a Leyden jar. How successful the experiment proved to be, all the world knows. Somehow all the important events of Franklin's life are dramatic and picturesque, and this scene, especially, of the philosopher in the storm drawing down the very thunderbolts of heaven has always had a fascination for the popular mind. The detailed story of the experiment became public only through Franklin's conversation with his friends. When he learned that his theory had been previously verified in France, his modesty was so great that in writing he simply told how the experiment might be performed with a kite, never that he himself had actually accomplished it. In consequence of this discovery he was at once elected a member of the Royal Society of London, Yale and Harvard gave him the honorary degree of master of arts, and everywhere he was celebrated as the foremost philosopher of the day.

When the time comes we shall see that Franklin's scientific fame was a real aid to him in his diplomatic career; now we must turn our eyes backward and trace from the beginning his slow rise in political and civic power. And it is a peculiar feature of the day and of Franklin's individual character that many of his reforms took their start in the gayety of social intercourse. There was nothing morose, nothing stern, in our genial philosopher. Though always temperate, his vivacity and easy politeness made him welcome in any merry company of the day. He could sing with the best of the young blades and even compose his own ditties; and one of these songs, "The Old Man's Wish," he tells us he sang at least a thousand times. The chorus of the song is characteristic enough to be quoted:--

"May I govern my passions with absolute sway, Grow wiser and better as my strength wears away, Without gout or stone, by gentle decay;"

and another ballad in praise of his wife still has a kind of popularity:--

"Of their Chloes and Phyllises poets may prate, I sing my plain country Joan, These twelve years my wife, still the joy of my life, Blest day that I made her my own."

Franklin's first public improvement carries us back to the early leathern-apron days of the Junto. Books were a rare commodity among the frugal members of that club, and for a while they increased their resources by keeping all their volumes together in the club room for common use. But this plan proving hardly feasible, Franklin in the year 1731 drew up proposals for a city library. His method of arousing public interest in the scheme was one to which he always had recourse on such occasions, and is a credit to his modesty as well as to his shrewdness. "I put myself," he says, "as much as I could out of sight, and stated it as a scheme of a number of friends, who had requested me to go about and propose it to such as they thought lovers of reading." He succeeded, as he always did in his projects, and the library, still an honored institution of Philadelphia, is the parent of all the subscription libraries of the country.

Through the aid of the Junto, also, Franklin set in motion another project. As a boy he had seen the first fire company started in Boston, and now that his Quaker home had grown to be a thriving city, he undertook to introduce the same system there. No doubt many of our readers have seen the curious relics of these colonial fire companies,--old leathern buckets stamped with various devices and with the owner's name, which were used to pass water rapidly from hand to hand. The companies had a social as well as a useful aim, so that families were proud to preserve such memorials of the old days.

Owing to the wretched system in vogue, the night watch of the city had fallen into a deplorable state, the watchmen consisting of a set of ragamuffins who passed their nights in tippling and left the town to take care of itself. To remedy this evil Franklin made use of the Junto and of his paper, "The Gazette," and once more his efforts were successful.

It seemed, indeed, as if there were no limits to his activity. At different times he bent his energies to getting the streets paved, to improving the lighting of the city, to introducing various novelties in agriculture, and to assisting other projects, such as the establishment of the Pennsylvania hospital. More important, perhaps, than these was the founding of the academy which has since developed into the University of Pennsylvania. As early as 1743 we find Franklin regretting that there was no convenient college where he might send his son to be educated; and in 1749 he took up the matter seriously, publishing a pamphlet which he called, "Proposals relating to the Education of Youth in Pennsylvania." Nor did his zeal end here. He continued to urge on the project, and in a short time the money was raised and the school actually opened. Franklin was for more than forty years a trustee of the institution, and took just pride in the good which it accomplished for the community. His purpose in one respect, however, was foiled; he was an ardent advocate of English and the sciences in education, and would have been glad to have the study of Latin and Greek utterly banished from the schools. Fortunately in this matter public opinion was too strong for him, and he was obliged to succumb to the regular curriculum. For some reason, whether because of early lack of training in these studies or because his mind was of such a sort as to be completely absorbed in the present, he was all his life violently prejudiced against the classics, and on his very death-bed one of his last acts was to compose a mocking diatribe against the use of those languages. It is one of the few cases where his judgment was marred, not by the limitations of his intelligence, but a lack of the deeper imagination,--where he applied his footrule of utility to measure quantities beyond its reach.

With Franklin's increasing prosperity and popularity his influence in matters political grew more and more dominant. His first recognition in this field was in 1736, when he was chosen clerk of the General Assembly,--a position which he continued to hold until he was elected a member of the Assembly itself. He found this office very tedious, but amused himself during the long debates by constructing magic squares of figures and by other diversions of the sort. Constant to his practice he lets us know that he retained the position chiefly because it enabled him to get control of the public printing, and once when threatened by the advent of a new member with loss of this lucrative employment he saved himself by his usual recourse to honorable stratagem. Having heard that this gentleman had in his library a certain very scarce and curious book, Franklin wrote him a note expressing a desire to read the volume and asking to borrow it for a few days. The book came immediately, and the two students were at once bound together in friendship. "This is another instance," Franklin adds, "of the truth of an old maxim I had learned, which says: 'He that has once done you a kindness will be more ready to do you another than he whom you yourself have obliged.'"

Other positions came to Franklin in due time. The very next year he was made postmaster of Philadelphia, and filled the office so well that some years later he was put at the head of the postal system for the colonies. This gave him an opportunity to become familiar with the political affairs of the whole country and enhanced his usefulness very much.

What first brought him into real prominence was his activity during the troublesome times that now followed with the Indians. England was at war with France, and as usual the combatants stirred up the savages to commit all kinds of atrocities. Franklin was much incensed that the peace-loving Quakers of his colony should refuse to make any provision for defense against the Indians on the western frontier or against possible attacks of the French from the river. His indignation was increased by a visit to Boston in 1746, where he found the people in a state of warlike fervor after the conquest of Louisburg; and on returning home he wrote an eloquent pamphlet, called "Plain Truth," to rouse the colony to a sense of its peril. Despite the half-hearted opposition of the Quakers in the Assembly companies were raised, cannon, by the shrewd policy of Franklin, were got from New York, and the promoter of the movement was even asked to act as colonel of the troops,--an honor which he declined. One of Franklin's friends now warned him that the Quakers in the Assembly would dismiss him from his position as clerk and advised him to resign at once to avoid the disgrace. Franklin's reply, which he was fond of quoting in after life, shows the sturdy nature of the man: "I shall never _ask_, never _refuse_, nor ever RESIGN an office." As it happened, however, he was again chosen unanimously at the next election, and we may suppose that he was keen enough to know with whom he had to deal. The good Quakers would not fight, but they were not always averse to have some one do their fighting for them.

We are approaching the tumultuous times of the Seven Years' War, when the sound of cannon was indeed heard round the world, and when the prowess of England's arms added India and Canada to her empire. In 1752 Franklin, who was now a member of the legislature, was sent, together with the speaker of the Assembly, to confer with the Indians of Ohio; and if no important results came from the conference it at least helped to give Franklin an insight into Indian character such as few men possessed. Two years later, when actual war became imminent, he was chosen one of the commissioners from Pennsylvania to meet those of the other colonies at Albany and consult on measures of common defense. Any one might see that the colonies would be stronger united than separated, and several of the commissioners came prepared with proposals of union. Franklin had already published in his "Gazette" an article on the subject, to which he had added a wood-cut showing a snake cut in thirteen pieces with the device JOIN OR DIE. On the way to Albany he had drawn up a plan of union which pleased the Congress, and which resembled very much the form of union afterwards adopted during the Revolution; but as Franklin observes, "Its fate was singular; the Assemblies did not adopt it, as they all thought there was too much prerogative in it; and in England it was judged to have too much of the democratic." Instead of this scheme the London Board of Trade devised a plan of their own which, besides other objectionable features, involved the deplorable principle of taxing the colonies without their consent. It is interesting to find Franklin the next winter in Boston discussing the improprieties of this plan with Governor Shirley, and it has been truly observed that his arguments include almost all that was later brought out when the question of taxation without representation became a burning question.

In 1755 we find Franklin connected with an event which first brought Washington into prominence. That was the year of Braddock's unfortunate campaign, and the Assembly of Pennsylvania, which had refused to grant money for the war and now feared that Braddock would take revenge by ravaging the colony, sent Franklin into Maryland to consult with the general and pacify him if possible. It is needless to say that Franklin succeeded. By cunning advertisements and appeals to the farmers in Pennsylvania he got wagons and teams for the army; but to do this he had to pledge himself for a considerable sum of money, his own credit being higher than that of the government, and after the general rout in which many of the wagons and horses were lost he was compelled to pay out large sums of money for which he was never entirely reimbursed. He also persuaded the Assembly of Pennsylvania to provide the younger officers of the regiment with horses and stores for the campaign, although to Washington, as we know, all this accumulation of provisions for such an expedition seemed no better than a nuisance. Franklin, too, had his fears, and even went so far as to caution Braddock against the ambuscades of the Indians. Braddock smiled at his ignorance, and replied: "These savages may indeed be a formidable enemy to your raw American militia, but upon the king's regular and disciplined troops, sir, it is impossible they should make any impression." Franklin tells us he was conscious of the impropriety of disputing with a military man in matters of his profession, and said no more. The story of Braddock's defeat is only too well known; but to Franklin at least the campaign brought some profit. When later he went to England he found that the general's account of his intelligence and generosity had added considerably to his reputation.

The failure of the expedition had left the western frontier open to the savage raids of the Indians, and Pennsylvania, owing to her unprotected condition, suffered more than the other colonies. Franklin came to the rescue with a bill to raise volunteers which was carried through the Assembly; troops were quickly organized, and the philosopher was himself appointed general. He was two months in the field and conducted himself with admirable prudence, although he did not undergo the test of actual fighting. After that time he was recalled by the governor to Philadelphia, for the Assembly was about to meet and his services were needed at home.

The old trouble between the proprietary governor and the Assembly had now reached an acute stage. The two sons of William Penn, into whose hands the colony had descended, pursued a narrow and selfish policy, forcing the governor to veto every bill for raising money unless the estates owned by the proprietors were exempted from taxation. From the beginning Franklin had stood with the popular party in opposing these regulations, yet curiously enough had always been a favorite with the governors. These magistrates were bound to follow the proprietors' will under penalty of being recalled; but on the other hand their salary was dependent on the pleasure of the Assembly, and they may well have clung to a wise and tolerant intermediary like Franklin. Nothing, however, could now allay the hostile feelings. The Assembly voted money for immediate defense under the conditions imposed, but at the same time declared that the measure was not to be held as a precedent for the future; and Franklin was sent to England to treat with the proprietaries in person, and if necessary with the Crown.

V

FIRST AND SECOND MISSIONS TO ENGLAND

Franklin reached London July 27, 1757, when he was fifty-one years old. He remained in England five years, and during that period his life was one of manifold interests and vexations. His business with the Penns first engaged his attention; but from those stubborn gentlemen he got nothing but insolence and delays. After much manoeuvring the dispute was brought before a committee of the Privy Council, where the Pennsylvania Assembly through its representative virtually won its case. The proprietary estates were made subject to taxation, and this bone of contention was for a time removed. It was indeed a great victory for the Philadelphia printer; but perhaps its chief value was the training it gave him for the more important diplomatic negotiations that were to come later. There was that in Franklin's nature which made him an ideal diplomatist. Under the utmost candor and simplicity he concealed a penetration into character and a skill in using legitimate chicanery that rarely missed their mark. Then, too, he was persistent: what he undertook to do he never left until it was done. Though far from being an orator, he wielded a pen that for clearness and logical pointedness has scarcely been surpassed, and his powers of irony and sarcasm were worthy of Swift himself.

Among other subjects which engaged Franklin's pen at this time was a question of vital interest, as he thought, to the empire. Under the masterly guidance of the great Pitt, England had come out victorious in the struggle with France, and the government was now debating whether Canada should be retained or given back to the French. The chief argument for surrendering the province was ominous of the future. "A neighbor that keeps us in some awe is not always the worst of neighbors.... If we acquire all Canada, we shall soon find North America itself too powerful and too populous to be governed by us at a distance." To this timid reasoning, which was attributed to William Burke, Franklin replied in a pamphlet, discussing the whole question with the utmost acumen, displaying the future greatness of the empire in America, and denying that the colonies would ever revolt. Touching this last apprehension he says: "There are so many causes that must operate to prevent it that I will venture to say a union amongst them for such a purpose is not merely improbable, it is impossible.... When I say such a union is impossible, I mean without the most grievous tyranny and oppression.... _The waves do not rise but when the wind blows._... What such an administration as the Duke of Alva's in the Netherlands might produce, I know not; but this, I think, I have a right to deem impossible." Strange words to come from Franklin in those days; but it is thought they were of considerable influence in the final decision of the question. Franklin indeed was always fond of prophesying the future greatness of America, and again in the diplomatic debates after the revolutionary war he long insisted that Canada should be severed from England and joined to the thirteen States.

But our philosopher had much to occupy him besides politics. He had taken lodgings at No. 7 Craven Street with a Mrs. Stevenson, in whom and in whose daughter he found warm and congenial friends. His correspondence with "Dear Polly," the daughter, contains some of his most entertaining letters; and he even planned, but unsuccessfully, to make her the wife of his son William. His fame as a scientist had preceded him, and introduced him into the society of many distinguished men in England and Scotland, among whom his genial nature freely expanded. And nothing could stop the activity of his mind, not even sickness. For eight weeks he struggled with a fever, but the letter to his wife conveying the story of his illness reads as if he were almost willing to undergo such an experience for the opportunity of studying pathology which it offered.

At last he was ready to return home. The University of St. Andrews had conferred on him the degree of Doctor of Laws, and afterwards Oxford had done the same. He had succeeded in his mission, his son had been appointed governor of New Jersey, and he looked forward to a life of honorable ease in his adopted city. Just before sailing he wrote to Lord Kames: "I am now waiting here only for a wind to waft me to America, but cannot leave this happy island and my friends in it without extreme regret, though I am going to a country and a people that I love. I am going from the old world to the new, and I fancy I feel like those who are leaving this world for the next. Grief at the parting, fear of the passage, hope of the future,--these different passions all affect their minds at once, and these have _tendered_ me down exceedingly."

Peace had come to Europe in 1763, but not to America. The Indians, who had been aroused by European intrigue, were not so easily pacified, and western Pennsylvania especially continued to suffer from their ravages. The men of the frontier banded together for retaliation, and unfortunately their revenge equaled the brutality of the red savages. Religious odium added bitterness to the passions. The Scotch-Irish Presbyterians of the west, enraged at the supineness of the eastern Quakers, made the extermination of the Indians a point of religion. The horror reached its climax when the good people of Paxton in cold blood massacred twenty helpless and innocent Indians, and then with a large following marched towards Philadelphia with the avowed purpose of murdering in the name of an angry God one hundred and forty peaceful Moravian Indians. The governor, a nephew of the proprietaries, came, as all men did, to Franklin in his perplexity; he even lodged in Franklin's house, and concerted with him hourly on the means of repelling the invaders. The "Paxton boys" had reached Germantown. The city was in a panic, and there was no time to lose. Franklin first got together a regiment of militia, and then, with three other gentlemen, went out to Germantown to remonstrate with the fanatics. His mission was successful, and the insurrection was quelled; but Franklin himself had gained many enemies by his action. The people were largely in favor of the Paxton rioters; and the governor, now relieved of his immediate fears, made an infamous proclamation setting a price upon Indian scalps. A strong coalition was formed against Franklin; to the enmity of the proprietary party was now added the distrust of the people.

Just at this time the old trouble between the governor and the Assembly broke out more virulently. Despite the decision of the London Council, the governor vetoed an important bill because the proprietary estates were not exempted from taxation. An angry debate arose in the Assembly as to whether they should petition the king to withdraw Pennsylvania from the proprietaries and make it a crown colony. Franklin took an active part in this contest, and threw all the weight of his authority in favor of the petition; but in the election which followed in 1764 the combination of the aristocrats, who sided with the proprietaries, and of the fanatics, who favored the Paxton uprising, was too strong for him, and he was not returned. After a stormy debate, however, the Assembly adopted the petition; and Franklin, despite the bitter personal attacks of John Dickinson, was chosen as agent to carry the request to England.