_Religious and Philosophic Views._
Studious habits--New religion--Personal habits--Church of
the Free and Easy--His many accomplishments--The career of
Hemphall--Birth and Death of Franklin's son--The Ministry of
Whitefield--Remarkable friendship between the philosopher
and the preacher--Prosperity of Franklin--His convivial
habits--The defense of Philadelphia--Birth of a
daughter--The Philadelphia Academy.
Franklin was a perservering and laborious student, for whatever he
read he studied. With increasing intellectual tastes, he found time
every day to devote many hours to his books. His reading was of the
most elevated and instructive kind. It consisted almost exclusively of
scientific treatises, and of history, biography, voyages and travels.
His mind was still struggling and floundering in the midst of
religious and philosophical speculations. He seems, from some
unexplained reason, to have been very unwilling to accept the religion
of Jesus Christ; and yet he was inspired undeniably by a very noble
desire to be a good man, to attain a high position in morality.
Earnestly he endeavored to frame for himself some scheme which would
enable him to accomplish that purpose.
At this time he wrote,
"Few in public affairs act from a mere view of the good of
their country, whatever they may pretend. Fewer still in
public affairs act with a view to the good of mankind. There
seems to me, at present, great occasion to raise a 'United
Party for Virtue,' by forming the virtuous and good of all
nations into a regular body, to be governed by suitable good
and wise rules, which good and wise men may probably be more
unanimous in their obedience to, than common people are to
common laws. I at present, think, that whoever attempts this
aright, and is well qualified, cannot fail of pleasing God,
and of meeting with success."
Influenced by these exalted motives, he concentrated all the energies
of his well informed mind to the organization of a new religion. To
this church he gave the name of "The Society of the Free and Easy."
The members were to be Free from vice, and consequently, Easy in mind.
The first article of his creed was that he would have no creed. And
yet this religion, which drew an antagonistic distinction between
faith and works, denouncing all faith at the same time announced that
its fundamental and absolutely essential faith was that piety
consisted in cherishing the ordinarily recognized virtues. These were
Temperance, Silence, Order, Resolution, Frugality, Industry,
Sincerity, Justice, Moderation, Cleanliness, Tranquillity, Charity and
Humility.
His ritual consisted in devoting one week to the cultivation of each
of these virtues. He had no Sabbath, no preached Gospel, no
Sacraments. But his creed, with its corresponding practice, certainly
exerted a very powerful influence, and in many respects beneficial,
upon his own mind.
With his list of virtues before him, this remarkable young man
commenced the effort vigorously to attain perfection. The Christian
reader will not be at all surprised to read from Franklin's pen the
following account of the result:
"I was surprised to find myself so much fuller of faults than
I had imagined. But I had the satisfaction of seeing them
diminish. After a while I went through one course only in a
year, and afterwards only one in several years; till at
length I omitted them entirely, being employed in voyages and
business abroad, with a multiplicity of affairs that
interfered."
Franklin was a very proud man. He could not but be conscious of his
great superiority over most of those with whom he associated. He avows
that the virtue of humility he never could attain. The semblance of
that virtue he could easily assume, but he says that the pride of his
heart was such that had he attained it, he would have been proud of
his humility. He adopted the following as the ordinary routine of
life.
He rose at five, very carefully performed his ablutions, and then
offered a brief prayer to a being whom he called "Powerful Goodness."
Why he should have preferred that address to the more simple one of
"Our Heavenly Father," we know not. He then laid out the business of
the day, and for a short time directed his mind to the especial virtue
which he intended that day and week to cherish.[18]
[Footnote 18: "It was about this time I conceived the bold and arduous
project of arriving at moral perfection. I wished to live without
committing any fault at any time. As I knew, or thought I knew what
was right and wrong, I did not see why I might not always do the one
and avoid the other. But I soon found that I had undertaken a task of
more difficulty than I had imagined."--Autobiography, p. 105.]
In the freshness of all his morning energies he devoted himself to his
books for an hour and a half. This brought him to breakfast-time. At
eight o'clock he commenced work in his shop, to which he devoted
himself assiduously until twelve. An hour was then allowed for dinner
and rest. At one he returned to the arduous labors of his shop, labors
which engrossed all his energies, and continued the employment until
six. His day's hard work was then ordinarily closed. He took his
supper, received his friends, or more commonly read and studied until
ten o'clock at night, when almost invariably he retired to his bed.
His mind still for a time continued much interested in his plan for
the church of the Free and Easy. We find among his papers that he
decided that candidates for admission should, after a careful
examination, to ascertain that their creed was, to have no creed, and
that their faith was, to abjure all faith, be subject to a probation
of thirteen weeks. It seems that no candidate ever applied for
admission. There were no apostles to wander abroad proclaiming the new
gospel. Increasing business absorbed Franklin's time, and the new
church was forgotten.
The sole motive which Franklin urged to inspire to action, was
self-interest. "You should be honest," he would say, "because it is
politic. You abstain from vice for the same reason that you should not
drink poison, for it will hurt you." In the enforcement of these views
he writes,
"It was my design to explain and enforce this doctrine,
_that vicious actions are not hurtful because they are
forbidden, but forbidden because they are hurtful_. It was,
therefore, every one's interest to be virtuous who wished to
be happy in this world. And I should from this circumstance
(there being always in the world a number of rich
merchants, nobility, states and princes, who have need of
honest instruments for the management of their affairs, and
such being so rare) have endeavored to convince young
persons that no qualities are so likely to make a poor man's
fortune as those of probity and integrity."
It may be doubted whether such considerations ever made a truly good
man. Virtue must be loved for its own sake. Vice must be deserted for
its inherent baseness, even though it may bring a great reward.
Franklin, in the prosecution of his studies, devoted himself to
French, Spanish, Italian, and even to Latin. In all these he became a
proficient. His mind was wonderfully prompt in the acquisition of
knowledge. He could hardly have devoted himself more assiduously and
successfully to these studies, had some good angel whispered in the
ear of the young printer the astounding intelligence, "You are yet to
be the ambassador of the United States to European courts. You are to
appear in those glittering assemblages as the equal of the highest
noble; and are to enjoy the hospitalities of kings and queens.
Familiarity with these languages, and the intellectual culture you are
thus acquiring will be of more value to you than mines of gold."
This remarkable man prized all branches of knowledge; and seemed to
excel in all. He devoted much attention to music. With much skill he
played upon the harp, the guitar, the violin, and the violincello.
In the year 1734, a young preacher by the name of Hemphall came to
Philadelphia from England. He was deemed by the orthodox clergy, very
heterodox in his opinions. Probably suspicions of his orthodoxy were
enhanced from the fact that he brought high testimonials of eloquence
from several of the most prominent deists and free-thinkers in
England. He was very fluent, at times very eloquent, and Franklin was
charmed with the man and his doctrines.
Boldly denouncing all creeds, and all religious faith, he announced it
as _his_ creed and _his_ faith that piety consists in conduct alone.
Crowds flocked to hear him. One day, after preaching a very eloquent
sermon, some one discovered that he had stolen that sermon from Dr.
James Foster, the most popular preacher in London. An investigation
took place, in which he was compelled to acknowledge that he had
stolen every one of his sermons. Franklin writes,
"This detection gave many of our party disgust, who
accordingly abandoned his cause, and occasioned our more
speedy discomfiture in the synod. I stuck by him, however. I
rather approved his giving us good sermons composed by
others, than bad ones of his own, though the latter was the
practice of our common teachers."
Had the young man said frankly, "I am rehearsing to you the most
eloquent sermons of the most eloquent English divines," no one could
have found any fault. But for him to assume that the sermons were his
own, and that he personally was entitled to the credit of whatever
power they exhibited, was certainly practicing deception. It was a
gross violation of Franklin's cardinal virtue of sincerity. It was
unworthy of Franklin, in his charitable regard for the offender, to
gloss over the real criminality of the offence.
A year after Franklin's marriage, a son was born to him, to whom
he gave the name of Francis Folger Franklin. All accounts agree
in describing the child as endowed with remarkable beauty and
intelligence. Probably Franklin never loved any being as he loved that
child. In the year 1736, when this wonderful boy was but four years of
age, he was seized with the small-pox and died. Even the philosophic
Franklin was almost crushed by the terrible calamity. The cheering
views of the Christian faith could not sustain him. He had no vivid
conception of his cherub boy an angel in Heaven awaiting his father's
arrival. He could only say that "I am _inclined to believe_ that my
child has not passed away into utter annihilation; but who knows? Many
of the wisest and best on earth utterly discard the idea of a future
existence. They deem the thought the conceit of ignorance and
fanaticism."
We read the following epitaph on his little grave-stone with much
sympathy for the bereaved father. He could only write
Francis F.
Son of Benjamin and Deborah
Franklin.
Deceased November 12, 1736,
Aged four years, one month and one day.
The delight of all who knew him.
In the year 1739, Rev. George Whitefield arrived in Philadelphia. It
is remarkable that a warm friendship should have sprung up between men
so very diverse in character. But Franklin could not be insensible to
the wonderful power of this preacher, in promoting public morals, and
in transforming the worst of men into valuable citizens, faithfully
performing all the duties of life. It is surprising that this effect
of the Gospel did not teach him that Christianity is the "wisdom of
God, and the power of God to salvation." _Love_ was emphatically the
message which Whitefield, with tearful eyes and throbbing heart,
proclaimed to the wicked and the sorrowing. "God so _loved the world_,
that he gave his only begotten son that whosoever believeth in him
should not perish but should have everlasting life." Christ "came not
into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through him
might be saved."
Such were the themes which this apostolic preacher unfolded, and which
moved human hearts, in these new colonies as seventeen hundred years
ago they were moved by the preaching of our Lord Jesus Christ, and his
disciple Paul, upon the plains of Asia.
Whitefield taught that _belief_ controlled conduct. As a man sincerely
believes so will he act. Franklin, with his accustomed candor, in his
Autobiography, wrote in the following terms, the effects of the
preaching of this remarkable reformer:
"The multitudes of all sects and denominations that attended
his sermons were enormous. It was wonderful to see the
change soon made in the manners of our inhabitants. From
being thoughtless or indifferent about religion, it seemed
as if all the world were growing religious; so that one
could not walk through the town, in an evening, without
hearing psalms sung in different families of every street.
"Mr. Whitefield, on leaving us, went preaching all the way
through the colonies to Georgia. The settlement of that
province had been lately begun; but instead of being made
with hardy, industrious husbandmen, accustomed to labor, the
only people fit for such an enterprise, it was with families
of broken shop-keepers, and other insolvent debtors; many of
indolent and idle habits, taken out of the jails who, being
set down in the woods, unqualified for clearing land, and
unable to endure the hardships of a new settlement, perished
in numbers, leaving many helpless children unprovided for.
"The sight of their miserable situation inspired the
benevolent heart of Mr. Whitefield with the idea of building
an Orphan House there in which they might be supported and
educated. Returning northward, he preached up this charity,
and made large collections.
"I did not disapprove of the design; but as Georgia was then
destitute of materials and workmen, and it was proposed to
send them from Philadelphia at a great expense, I thought it
would have been better to have built the house at
Philadelphia, and brought the children to it. This I
advised. But he was resolute in his first project, rejected
my counsel, and I therefore refused to contribute.
"I happened soon after to attend one of his sermons, in the
course of which I perceived he intended to finish with a
collection, and I silently resolved he should get nothing
from me. I had in my pocket a handful of copper money, three
or four silver dollars, and five pistoles in gold, (about
twenty-five dollars). As he proceeded I began to soften, and
concluded to give the copper; another stroke of his oratory
made me ashamed of that, and determined me to give the
silver; and he finished so admirably that I emptied my
pockets wholly into the collector's dish, gold and all.
"Some of Mr. Whitefield's enemies affected to suppose that
he would apply these collections to his own private
emolument. But I, who was intimately acquainted with him,
being employed in printing his sermons and journals, never
had the least suspicion of his integrity; but am to this day
decidedly of the opinion, that he was in all his conduct a
perfectly honest man; and methinks my testimony ought have
the more weight, as we had no religious connection. He used,
indeed, sometimes to pray for my conversion, but never had
the satisfaction of believing that his prayers were heard.
Ours was a friendship sincere on both sides, and lasted to
his death."[19]
[Footnote 19: "Autobiography of Franklin," as given by Sparks, p.
139.]
At one time Franklin wrote to Whitefield, in Boston, inviting him, as
he was about to come to Philadelphia, to make his house his home. The
devout preacher replied,
"If you make this offer for Christ's sake you will not lose your
reward."
Promptly the philosopher rejected any such motive, and rejoined,
"Do not be mistaken. It was not for Christ's sake I invited you, but
for your own sake."
In all the numerous letters, essays, and philosophical and religious
disquisitions of Franklin, we seldom, I think, find a sentiment
indicative of any high appreciation of the character of Jesus Christ;
or the debt of gratitude we owe to him, either for his teaching or for
his example. As Franklin discarded all idea of the Atonement, he of
course could not express any gratitude for that which is, to the
Christian, the crowning act even of divine love. This Saviour, to
millions who cannot be counted, has proved, even if the comfort be a
delusion, in temptation, disappointment, and death, more precious than
it is in the power of words to declare.
One article from Franklin's newspaper, published in the year 1740,
gives an idea of the extraordinary interest which the preaching of
Whitefield excited.
"On Thursday last the Reverend Mr. Whitefield left this city,
and was accompanied to Chester by about one hundred and
fifty horse; and preached there to about seven thousand
people. On Friday he preached twice at Willings Town to about
five thousand. On Saturday, at Newcastle, to about two
thousand five hundred; and the same evening at Christiana
Bridge to about three thousand; on Sunday at White Clay
Creek, he preached twice, resting about half an hour between
the sermons, to eight thousand, of whom three thousand, it is
computed, came on horseback. It rained most of the time, and
yet they stood in the open air."
The keenness of the scrutiny with which Franklin watched all the
operations of nature, led him to the discovery of the before unknown
fact that the fierce north-east storms which sweep our Atlantic coast
invariably begin in the south-west, and move backwards, diminishing in
violence as they go. He also, about this time, invented the Franklin
stove, which in the day when wood was the only fuel consumed has
invested so many firesides with a rare aspect of cheerfulness. He
wrote a very ingenious pamphlet, elucidating the philosophy of
house-warming.
There is great moral power in prosperity, when wisely accepted and
enjoyed. Franklin was now a prosperous man. His income was constantly
increasing. His virtues, and they were great ones, proved in all
respects promotive of his worldly welfare. His journal was the
leading paper, certainly in all that region, and had not its superior
in any of the colonies. His renowned almanac, Poor Richard, attained
an unexampled sale. The work executed in his printing office was so
excellent as to bring in to him many orders even from the other
provinces. The various books and pamphlets he had published had all
been successful. Philadelphia had already become the chief town of the
Colonies.
Notwithstanding Franklin's devotion to books, to business, and to
philosophical research, he is represented to have been at this time, a
jovial man, very fond of convivial gatherings. He could not only write
a good song, but he could sing it, to the acceptance of his
companions. One of these songs entitled "The Old Man's Wish" he says
he sang over a thousand times. We give the concluding stanza,
illustrative of its general character.
"With a courage undaunted, may I face the last day,
And when I am gone may the better sort say,--
In the morning when sober, in the evening when mellow,
He has gone and not left behind him his fellow,
For he governed his passions with absolute sway."
There was, as usual, war in Europe. Enormous armies were burning
cities and villages, drenching the trampled harvest fields with blood,
and filling the humble hamlets of the poor with misery. There was
every reason to fear that these awful storms, raised by the passions
of depraved men, would reach the peaceful shores of the Delaware.
Philadelphia was entirely undefended. It is said that there was not an
available cannon in Pennsylvania.
A well-armed privateer could at any hour, seize and sack the city.
Quaker influence so far prevailed that the legislature could not be
induced to raise a battery, or purchase a gun. Franklin wrote a very
powerful pamphlet, called Plain Truth, urging the necessity of
adopting some measures of defence. He showed how the colony could, at
any time, be ravaged by a few vessels from any European nation then in
conflict with England. I give a few extracts from this admirable
pamphlet:
"On the first alarm, terror will spread over all. Many will
seek safety by flight. Those that are reputed rich will
flee, through fear of torture to make them produce more than
they are able. The man that has a wife and children, will
find them hanging on his neck, beseeching him to quit the
city, and save his life. All will run into confusion, amid
cries and lamentations, and the hurry and disorder of
departures. The few that remain, will be unable to resist.
"Sacking the city will be the first; and burning it, in all
probability, the last act of the enemy. This I believe will
be the case, if you have timely notice. But what must be
your condition, if suddenly surprised without previous
alarm, perhaps in the night. Confined to your houses, you
will have nothing to trust but the enemy's mercy. Your best
fortune will be to fall under the power of commanders of
king's ships, able to control the mariners, and not into the
hands of licentious privateers.
"Who can without the utmost horror, conceive the miseries of
the latter when your persons, fortunes, wives and daughters,
shall be subject to the wanton and unbridled rage, rapine,
and lust, of negroes, mulattoes, and others, the vilest and
most abandoned of mankind?"
This warning effectually roused the community. A public meeting was
summoned, in the immense building erected to accommodate the crowds
who flocked to hear Whitefield. Here Franklin harangued the multitude.
An Association of Defence was organized. Ten thousand persons enrolled
their names. In a few days nearly every man in the province, who was
not a Quaker, had joined some military organization. Each man
purchased for himself a weapon, and was learning how to use it.
Eighty companies were organized and disciplined. The companies in
Philadelphia united in a regiment, and chose Franklin their colonel.
Wisely he declined the office, "conceiving myself unfit," he says. A
battery was thrown up below the town. Some cannon were sent for from
Boston. Several eighteen-pounders were obtained in New York, and more
were ordered from London. In manning the battery, Franklin took his
turn of duty as a common soldier.
There was not a little opposition to these measures, but still the
strong current of popular opinion was in their favor. Even the young
Quakers, though anxious to avoid wounding the feelings of their
parents, secretly gave their influence to these preparations of
defence. The peace of Aix la Chapelle in 1748, terminated these
alarms. But the wisdom and energy which Franklin had displayed, caused
him to be regarded as the most prominent man in Pennsylvania. The
masses of the people regarded him with singular homage and confidence.
In 1744, Franklin had a daughter born, to whom he gave the name of
Sarah. His motherless son William, who was destined to give his father
great trouble, was growing up, stout, idle, and intractable. Early in
the war he had run away, and enlisted on board a privateer. With much
difficulty his father rescued him from these engagements. Franklin was
evidently embarrassed to know what to do with the boy. He allowed him,
when but sixteen years of age, to enlist as a soldier in an
expedition against Canada.
About this time Franklin wrote to his sister Jane, whose son had also
run away to enlist as a privateer. He wished to console her by the
assurance that it was not in consequence of unkind treatment, that the
boys were induced thus to act. He wrote:
"When boys see prizes brought in, and quantities of money
shared among the men, and their gay living, it fills their
heads with notions that half distract them; and puts them
quite out of conceit with trades and the dull ways of getting
money by working. My only son left my house unknown to us
all, and got on board a privateer, from whence I fetched him.
No one imagined it was hard usage at home that made him do
this. Every one that knows me thinks I am too indulgent a
parent, as well as master."
The father of Benjamin Franklin died in Boston, at the great age of
eighty-nine years. He had secured, in a very high degree, the respect
of the people, not only by his irreproachable morals, but by his
unfeigned piety. The Boston News Letter, of January 17, 1745, in the
following brief obituary, chronicles his death:
"Last night died Mr. Josiah Franklin, tallow chandler, and
soap maker. By the force of steady temperance he had made a
constitution, none of the strongest, last with comfort to the
age of eighty-nine years. And by an entire dependence on his
Redeemer, and a constant course of the strictest piety and
virtue, he was enabled to die as he lived, with cheerfulness
and peace, leaving a numerous posterity the honor of being
descended from a person who, through a long life, supported
the character of an honest man."
In the year 1743 Franklin drew up a plan for an Academy in
Philadelphia. In consequence of the troubled times the tract was not
published until the year 1749. It was entitled, "Proposals Relating to
the Education of Youth in Pennsylvania." The suggestions he presented
indicated a wide acquaintance with the writings of the most eminent
philosophers. He marked out minutely, and with great wisdom, the
course of study to be pursued. It is pleasant to read the following
statement, in this programme. Urging the study of History, he writes,
"History will also afford frequent opportunities of showing
the necessity of a _public religion_, from its usefulness to
the public; the advantages of a religious character among
private persons; the mischiefs of superstition and the
excellency of the _Christian religion_ above all others,
ancient and modern."
Perhaps this tribute to the excellence of Christianity ought in some
degree to modify the impression left upon the mind, by Franklin's
studious avoidal, in all his writings, of any allusion to the name of
Jesus Christ its founder.
Twenty-five thousand dollars were speedily raised for this
institution. All the religious sects harmoniously united. One
individual from each sect was appointed, to form the corporate body
intrusted with the funds. But almost the entire care and trouble of
rearing the building, and organizing the institution fell upon
Franklin. He was found to be fully adequate to all these
responsibilities.