"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.

The petition was not allowed, and Pennsylvania remained in the hands of

the proprietaries until it became an independent state. But other

questions, far more important than the local difficulties of any one

colony, were to occupy Franklin's and the other commissioners' time.

Franklin was in England from December, 1764, until March of 1775, and

during these ten years was busily engaged in supporting the colonies in

their unequal struggle against the British Parliament. He was the

accredited representative of Pennsylvania, Georgia, New Jersey, and

Massachusetts, and before the government and the people of England

stood as the champion of the whole province. Every one knows the nature

of the acts which finally created a new empire in the West,--the Stamp

Act, the duty on tea, the Boston Port bill. Their very names still stir

the patriotic blood of America. The principle at issue was clearly

announced in the battle cry, "No taxation without representation."

Franklin was a stanch advocate of the American claims, and threw all

the weight of his personal influence and of his eloquent pen into the

work. But in one respect he seems to have been deceived: during the

first years of his mission he held Parliament responsible for all the

tyrannical measures against the colonies, and looked upon the king as

their natural protector. It was a feeling common among Americans who

wished to preserve their allegiance to the empire while protesting

against the authority of the laws. Even as late as 1771 he could write

these words about George III: "I can scarcely conceive a king of better

dispositions, of more exemplary virtues, or more truly desirous of

promoting the welfare of his subjects." When at last the bigoted

character of that sovereign was fully revealed to him, he despaired

utterly of reconciliation with the mother country.

Franklin's labors may well be portrayed in two dramatic incidents: his

examination before Parliament in 1766, and the so-called Privy Council

outrage in 1774.

After the passage of the Stamp Act, Franklin wrote to a friend: "Depend

upon it, my good neighbor, I took every step in my power to prevent the

passing of the Stamp Act. Nobody could be more concerned and interested

than myself to oppose it sincerely and heartily.... We might as well

have hindered the sun's setting. That we could not do. But since it is

down, my friend, and it may be long before it rises again, let us make

as good a night of it as we can. We can still light candles. Frugality

and industry will go a great way towards indemnifying us. Idleness and

pride tax with a heavier hand than kings and parliaments. If we can get

rid of the former, we may easily bear the latter." But Franklin's

philosophical habit of accepting the inevitable,--a habit which for a

time brought him the hostility of such strenuous patriots as the

Adamses,--did not prevent him from doing all in his power to further

the repeal of that act when the matter was again taken up by

Parliament. Nor did America lack friends in Parliament itself, and

these gentlemen now arranged that Franklin should give testimony before

the bar of the House.

In the examination which followed, Franklin showed the fullness of his

knowledge and the keenness of his wit better perhaps than in any other

act of his life. It is impossible to give at length the replies with

which he aided the friends of repeal and baffled its foes; but a few of

his answers may indicate the nature of all.

_Q._ "What was the temper of America towards Great Britain before the

year 1763?"

_A._ "The best in the world. They submitted willingly to the government

of the Crown, and paid in their courts obedience to acts of Parliament....

They had not only a respect, but an affection for Great Britain; for

its laws, its customs, and manners; and even a fondness for its

fashions, that greatly increased the commerce. Natives of Britain were

always treated with particular regard; to be an _Old England man_ was,

of itself, a character of some respect, and gave a kind of rank among

us."

_Q._ "What is their temper now?"

_A._ "Oh, very much altered."

_Q._ "How would the Americans receive a future tax, imposed on the same

principle as the Stamp Act?"

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