Part 5
‘Cæsar spies Lady Cathcart with a book; He flies to know what ’tis--he longs to look. “What’s in your hand, my lady? let me know?”-- “A book, an’t please your majesty?”--“Oho! Book’s a good thing--good thing,--I like a book. Very good thing, my lady,--let me look. War of America! my lady, hae? Bad thing, my lady! fling, fling _that_ away.”’”
_Life of Major John André_, by Winthrop Sargent, p. 147.
[13] See Army List, 1778.
[14] This pleasantry on the part of the French minister seems to have been taken _au sérieux_ by certain writers as pointing to some obscurity of origin, while the fact is substantiated by various authorities that Eléonore-François-Elie, Comte de Moustier, entered the diplomatic service at eighteen, and after representing his country at several foreign courts was twice offered the position of Minister of Foreign Affairs by Louis XVI.
[15] United States Gazette, May 9, 1789.
[16] It is interesting to turn from these Republican festivities to read in the journal of a Moravian minister, written in New York during the occupation of the British, of King’s and Queen’s “Birthnight Balls,” “Coronation Day” celebrations, and rejoicings over the arrival of “His Royal Highness, Prince William Henry, the third son of our dear King, an amiable young Prince, who gave satisfaction to all who saw him.”--_Diary of Ewald Gustav Schaukirk._
[17] “The old Beekman house, built by James Beekman, and standing three miles from the City Hall in New York, was the scene of a number of interesting events. During the British possession of the city it was occupied by the commander-in-chief of their army, and one room at the head of a flight of stairs was occupied by Major André the night before proceeding up the river on his ill-fated expedition to West Point, while (strange providence) but a few yards distant still stands [1848] the green house where Captain Nathan Hale, of the American army, received his trial and condemnation as a spy.”--JEROME B. HOLGATE.
[18] Evidently referring to the Bee family of S. C.
In none of his schemes and foundations did Dr. Franklin more signally display the breadth and catholicity of his mind than in his plan for the establishment, in the New World, of an association for the general diffusion of useful knowledge, to which the Old World should be tributary, and from which it should in time be recipient. With this end in view, he, in 1743, issued a proposal for the organization and government of an American Philosophical Society, whose object was to bring into correspondence with a central association in Philadelphia all scientists, philosophers, and inventors, on this continent and in Europe. Bold as was this scheme in its breadth and reach, in its smaller details it was marked by the practical characteristics of the projector. The Hamiltons and Franklins might “dream dreams and see visions” to the end of the chapter; but they would have framed no governments, or have founded no learned institutions destined to outlast the centuries, had not their ideality been well balanced by the strong common sense that Guizot calls “the genius of humanity.” It was this union of the ideal and the practical that caused Franklin to be so appreciated by the French. Mirabeau named him “the sage of two worlds,” with a larger grasp of thought than that of our own day, when he is still claimed, like the debatable baby brought to King Solomon, by two cities,--by Boston, in which he first saw the light, and by Philadelphia, in which he disseminated it so liberally.
Although there is a vast amount of documentary evidence to prove that the American Philosophical Society was the direct outcome of Franklin’s proposal of 1743, and that before the breaking out of the war with Great Britain it was an active and useful organization, having a large native and foreign membership, two of Dr. Franklin’s biographers have done but scant justice to his work in this direction. Professor McMaster, in his recent interesting life of Franklin as a man of letters, dismisses his proposal to establish such a society as a failure;[19] while Mr. Parton, after mentioning the fact of Franklin having founded the Philosophical Society, in accordance with his proposal of 1743, adds, “The society was formed, and continued in existence for some years. Nevertheless, its success was neither great nor permanent, for at that day the circle of men capable of taking much interest in science was too limited for the proper support of such an organization.”[20]
As both of these historians mention the Philosophical Society later, and Mr. Parton at some length in his Life of Jefferson, it is probable that they did not consider that this early society was identical with that which in 1767 took a fresh start, elected a number of influential members, and made for itself an enviable reputation in Europe and America, in the latter years of the century. Sparks and Bigelow, however, take what is, according to the historian of the society, Dr. Robert M. Patterson, a true view of the case, tracing it back, a continuous organization, to the proposal of Dr. Franklin issued in 1743. Indeed, they carry it back even further than this period, deriving it primarily from the old Junto of 1727. After describing the workings of the Junto, or Leather Apron Society, formed from among Franklin’s “ingenious acquaintance,” a sort of debating club of clever young men, Jared Sparks says, “Forty years after its establishment, it became the basis of the American Philosophical Society, of which Franklin was the first president, and the published Transactions of which have contributed to the advancement of science and the diffusion of valuable knowledge in the United States.”[21] As most of Franklin’s projects were discussed in the congenial circle that composed the Junto, this statement does not conflict with that of Dr. Patterson.
Dr. Franklin, in his proposal, gave a list of the subjects that were to claim the attention of these New World philosophers. It included “investigations in botany; in medicine; in mineralogy and mining; in chemistry; in mechanics; in arts, trades, and manufactures; in geography and topography; in agriculture;” and, lest something should have been left out of this rather comprehensive list of subjects, it was added that the association should “give its attention to all philosophical experiments that let light into the nature of things, tend to increase the power of man over matter, and multiply the conveniences or pleasures of life.” The duties of the secretary of the society were laid down, and were especially arduous, including much foreign correspondence, in addition to the correcting, abstracting, and methodizing of such papers as required it. This office Dr. Franklin took upon himself, saying, with a touch of modesty that seems a trifle strained, that he “would be secretary until they should be provided with one more capable.” He, however, tells us in the Autobiography that he one day added humility to his list of virtues at the suggestion of a Quaker friend, and this form of expression may have been one of his self-imposed exercises.
The Philosophical Society, once established, was destined to exert an important influence on American science, life, and letters. Among its members were literary men, statesmen, and artists, as well as scientists and inventors. Before its meetings were read learned papers on government, history, education, philanthropy, politics, religion, worship, above all, on common sense: these in addition to the numerous scientific papers, read and communicated, while among its eulogiums and _oraisons funèbres_, pronounced upon deceased members, are to be found compositions worthy of Bossuet.
As early as 1769, the society had members in the different colonies, in the Barbadoes, in Antigua, in Heidelberg and Stockholm; while in Edinburgh the distinguished Dr. William Cullen was a member, in London Dr. John Fothergill, and in Paris the learned Count de Buffon. At home it numbered such men as Francis Hopkinson, statesman and writer of prose and poetry; Dr. Phineas Bond and his brother Thomas, both original members; Dr. Adam Kuhn and Daniel Dulany, of Maryland. Upon these early lists we find Pierre Eugène du Simitière, who was one of the committee appointed to prepare a design for a national seal; Benjamin West; John Dickinson, who was writing his “Farmer’s Letters,” destined to make him known on both sides of the sea; and John Bartram, botanist to his majesty, who planted his celebrated botanical garden near Gray’s Ferry, and built with his own hands the house, above the study window of which is his devout confession of faith:
“’TIS GOD ALONE, ALMIGHTY LORD, THE HOLY ONE, BY ME ADORED.
JOHN BARTRAM, 1770.”
A pioneer in this field, he is recognized as the greatest of American botanists, and, contrary to the rule generally proved by great men’s sons, had the satisfaction of seeing his studies successfully prosecuted by his son, William Bartram, who also contributed original papers to the society.
Writing in 1744 to the Honorable Cadwallader Colden, Lieutenant-Governor of New York, a distinguished scientist and original worker in certain lines, Dr. Franklin says,--
“Happening to be in this City about some particular Affairs, I have the Pleasure of receiving yours of the 28ᵗʰ past, here. And can now acquaint you, that a Society, as far as relates to Philadelphia, is actually formed, and has had several Meetings to mutual Satisfaction;--assoon [_sic_] as I get home, I shall send you a short Acct. of what has been done and proposed at these meetings.”
Here follows a list of members from Philadelphia, New York, and New Jersey, to which the writer adds,--
“Mr. Nicholls tells me of several other Gentlemen of this City [New York] that incline to encourage the Thing.--There are a Number of others in Virginia, Maryland, Carolina, and the New England States who we expect to join us assoon [_sic_] as they are acquainted that the Society has begun to form itself. I am, Sir, with much respect,
“Your most humᵉ sevᵗ “B. FRANKLIN.”[22]
The Honorable Cadwallader Colden was one of the original members of the American Philosophical Society, and took an active interest in its establishment and advance. He and Dr. Franklin were intimate friends, and in the habit of communicating to each other their scientific discoveries. It was Dr. Colden who introduced into the study of botany in America the system of Linnæus.
One of the founders and the first president of this society was Mr. Thomas Hopkinson, whom Dr. Franklin called his “ingenious friend,” and to whom he acknowledges his indebtedness for demonstrating “the power of points to _throw off_ the electrical fire.” Another “ingenious friend,” to whom he makes no profound acknowledgment, was the Rev. Ebenezer Kinnersley, a professor in the College of Philadelphia, to whom it is now generally conceded that Franklin owed much of his success in important electrical discoveries. Mr. Parton says that, in 1748, “Mr. Kinnersley contrived the amusing experiment of the magical picture. A figure of his majesty King George II. (‘God preserve him,’ says the loyal Franklin, in parenthesis, when telling the story) was so arranged that any one who attempted to take his crown from his head received a tremendous shock.” By this clever contrivance Mr. Kinnersley proves himself something of a prophet as well as a scientist, for notwithstanding the violent shock received by the friends of royalty in the colonies, a few years later, it was conclusively demonstrated that the crown could be taken off.
In drawing up rules for the government of the Philosophical Society, Dr. Franklin advises that correspondence be maintained not only between the central organization and its members in the different colonies, but with the Royal Society of London and the Dublin Society. Thus persons residing in remote districts of the United States would be placed in direct communication with the latest discoveries of Old World scientists in all their lines of work. What such correspondence meant to men of intelligence, living far from the centres of education and enlightenment, in those days of few books and fewer magazines and journals, it is impossible for us to imagine. Many years later, when the French botanist, André Michaux, was appointed by his government to examine the trees of this continent, with a view to their introduction into France, he carried letters from the Philosophical Society to one of its members, living in Lexington, Kentucky.
“During my stay at Lexington,” Michaux writes, “I frequently saw Dr. Samuel Brown, from Virginia, a physician of the College of Edinburgh, and a member of the Philosophical Society.... Receiving regularly the scientific journals from London, he is always in the channel of new discoveries, and turns them to the advantage of his fellow-citizens. It is to him that they are indebted for the introduction of the cow-pox. He had at that time inoculated upwards of five hundred persons in Kentucky, when they were making their first attempts in New York and Philadelphia.”
Agreeable as it must have been to Michaux to find flowers of science blooming in these western wilds, we can imagine the even greater delight that such a man as Dr. Brown must have experienced in meeting and conversing with this foreigner, fresh from Old World haunts of learning, with his interesting budget of news, political as well as scientific. Those were the exciting days of the Consulate in France, when Lord Nelson was gaining victories for England in the Northern seas; and we can picture to ourselves these two learned gentlemen, seated before a great fire of logs, with a steaming bowl of punch, made from the famous Kentucky apple-jack beside them, turning away from the paths of science to discuss Napoleon’s victories, the coalition against England, and the assassination of the Emperor Paul in Russia, which was followed by a treaty between his successor and the English sovereign.
American science must have been in a condition of encouraging activity between 1750 and 1767, for in those years there were no less than three societies in Philadelphia whose aims and pursuits were in the main identical,--the promotion of useful knowledge and the drawing together of its votaries. These societies were a second Junto, of which the indefatigable Dr. Franklin was a member, the American Philosophical Society, and the American Society. This division in the ranks of science probably arose from the feeling existing between the adherents of the Penn family and those averse to them; these parties being as violently opposed to each other as were, later, Federalist and Democratic-Republican; or, still later, the Whig and Democratic parties. Happily for the historian, who is sadly confused by Juntos and Juntolings, and by American Societies which were philosophical, and Philosophical Societies which were also American, these different bodies showed a disposition to unite, and in 1769 were incorporated into one society, under the title of American Philosophical Society, held at Philadelphia, for Promoting Useful Knowledge. This title proving a trifle “unhandy for every-day use,” to borrow the phraseology of a patriotic farmer’s wife, who bestowed upon one of her offspring the entire heading of the Republican ticket in 1860, “Abraham Lincoln Hannibal Hamlin,” it has gradually been abbreviated into the American Philosophical Society, there being now no other.
Of this united society Dr. Franklin was elected president, the first of an honorable line of presidents, whose portraits adorn the walls of the old rooms on Fifth Street, where the philosophers met more than a hundred years ago. The society obtained a grant of land from the State of Pennsylvania in 1785, and in 1787 its hall was completed, the one still used, in whose sunshiny rooms are now gathered the relics, the treasures, and the memories of a century. Here is the old chair on whose broad arm Jefferson wrote the Declaration, and here are autograph letters and autographs of such value as to fill the soul of the collector with “envy, hatred, and malice, and all uncharitableness.” On one side of the hall is the well-known and most characteristic portrait of Dr. Franklin,[23] in his blue coat, large wig, and spectacles, while near by is his marble effigy by Houdon, whose statue of Washington bears the proud inscription, “_Fait par Houdon, citoyen Français._”
Dr. Franklin was annually elected president of the society, Dr. Thomas Cadwalader officiating during his residence abroad. Brissot de Warville, coming to Philadelphia in 1788, exclaims, with devoutness rare in a Frenchman, “Thanks be to God, he still exists! This great man, for so many years the preceptor of the Americans, who so gloriously contributed to their independence; death had threatened his days, but our fears are dissipated, and his health is restored.” Two years later the same chronicler records, “Franklin has enjoyed this year the blessing of death, for which he waited so long a time.”
As president of the Philosophical Society, he was succeeded, in 1791, by Dr. Rittenhouse, the greatest American astronomer, of whom Jefferson said, “We have supposed Rittenhouse second to no astronomer living; in genius he must be first, because he is self-taught.” It was he who contributed to the society the first purely scientific paper in its series of Transactions, a calculation on the transit of Venus. He also described a wonderful orrery, which represented the revolution of the heavenly bodies more completely than it had ever been done before, and which he had himself constructed at the age of twenty-three. In June, 1769, he made observations on the transit of Venus. “The whole horizon was without a cloud,” says Rittenhouse, in his report of this event; and so greatly excited was the young astronomer that, in the instant of one of the contacts of the planet with the sun, he actually fainted with emotion. Rittenhouse’s interesting report on this phenomenon, which had never been seen but twice before by any inhabitant of the earth, was received with satisfaction by learned and scientific men everywhere. Those who visit the hall of the society to-day may look out upon the State-House yard from the same window through which Rittenhouse made his observations, and note the passing hours upon the face of a clock constructed by his hands, which, the curator says, “still keeps good time.”
Prominent among the portraits of early officers is an interesting picture of Thomas Jefferson, who was third president of the Philosophical Society, as well as of the United States. This painting, which well portrays the intellectual and spirited face of the original, was executed at Monticello by Mr. Sully, who was invited there for this purpose. Jefferson, who would have been a great scientist had he not been called upon by his country to use his powers as a statesman, naturally took a warm interest in the Philosophical Society, and was a member long before he was made its president in 1797. While abroad he disputed the arguments of the learned Count de Buffon on the degeneracy of American animals, and finally made his position secure by sending the astonished Frenchman the bones, skin, and horns of an enormous New Hampshire moose. Equally convincing was this, and more agreeable than the manner in which Dr. Franklin answered a similar argument on the degeneracy of American men, by making all the Americans at table, and all the Frenchmen, stand up. As those of his compatriots present happened to be fine specimens physically, towering above the little Gauls, the good doctor had the argument all his own way.
It seemed, indeed, as if these two great men, who so harmoniously combined the ideal and the practical, were born to prove to the world that genius of the highest order, in science, letters, and statecraft, is not incompatible with the same sort of ability that is essential to the success of a Western farmer or a skilled mechanic. Hence, if Dr. Franklin employed his leisure hours in inventing an improved stove, or explaining to the Philosophical Society why certain chimneys smoked; Mr. Jefferson used his in designing a plough, for which he received a gold medal from France, and in calculating the number of bushels of wheat to the acre, at Monticello. One day, he is interesting himself in the importation of seed-rice from Italy, from the Levant, and from Egypt; while on another, he is helping the Philosophical Society to frame instructions for the guidance of André Michaux in his Western explorations. It was life that interested them both,--life in the smaller details that affect home comfort, as well as in the broader issues that bear upon the happiness of states and nations. In Mr. Jefferson’s minute directions regarding the education of his daughters, and in his grasp of the details of farming, we recognize the same sort of practical common sense that so eminently distinguished Dr. Franklin, of whom his latest biographer says, in his own forcible and epigrammatic style,--“Whatever he has said on domestic economy, or thrift, is sound and striking. No other writer has left so many just and original observations on success in life. No other writer has pointed out so clearly the way to obtain the greatest amount of comfort out of life. What Solomon did for the spiritual man, that did Franklin for the earthly man. The book of Proverbs is a collection of receipts for laying up treasure in heaven. ‘Poor Richard’ is a collection of receipts for laying up treasure on earth.”[24]
In addition to its regular meetings for business and for scientific purposes, the Philosophical Society had its gala days, its annual dinners, and its especial receptions and entertainments given to distinguished strangers. Hither, in 1794, came the Rev. Joseph Priestley, of Birmingham, counted in France too devout for a scientist, and in England too broad for the clergy. As the discoverer of oxygen, the friend of Franklin, whose experiments in electricity he had described, and a devotee to the cause of liberty, Dr. Priestley was warmly welcomed by the Philosophical Society, which not only received him into its own learned brotherhood, but adopted him into American citizenship. This first reception was followed by a dinner given by the learned coterie in honor of Dr. Priestley.
Many anecdotes of these old dinners have been handed down, showing that when the good philosophers put science aside they could be as lively _raconteurs_ and _bons vivants_ as the world has ever seen. On such festive occasions, the witty old Abbé Correa de Serra, Judge Peters, Mr. Du Ponceau, Dr. Caspar Wistar, Mr. John Vaughan, and later, Robert Walsh, LL.D., and the Honorable William Short of Virginia, both most delightful talkers, George Ord, William Strickland the architect, and the ever-ready wits Dr. Nathaniel Chapman and Nicholas Biddle, gathered around the board.