_Life's Closing Scenes._
Advice to Thomas Paine--Scenes at Passy--Journey to the
Coast--Return to America--Elected Governor of
Pennsylvania--Attends the Constitutional
Convention--Proposes prayers--Remarkable speech--Letter to
Dr. Stiles--Christ on the Cross--Last sickness and death.
About this time some one, knowing Dr. Franklin's deistical views,
presented, for his opinion, a treatise denouncing the idea, that there
was any God, who manifested any interest in the affairs of men, that
there was any _Particular Providence_. Though Franklin did not accept
the idea, that Jesus Christ was a divine messenger, and that the Bible
was a supernatural revelation of God's will, he certainly did not, in
his latter years, deny that there was a God, who superintended the
affairs of this world, and whom it was proper to worship. It is
generally supposed that Thomas Paine was the author of this treatise,
and that it was a portion of his Age of Reason. Franklin, in his
memorable reply, wrote,
"I have read your manuscript with some attention. By the
argument it contains against a particular Providence, though
you allow a _general_ Providence, you strike at the
foundations of all religion. For without the belief of a
providence that takes cognizance of, guards and guides and
may favor particular persons, there is no motive to worship
a deity, to fear his displeasure or to pray for his
protection. I will not enter into any discussion of your
principles, though you seem to desire it. At present I shall
only give you my opinion that, though your reasonings are
subtile, and may prevail with some readers, you will not
succeed so as to change the general sentiments of mankind on
that subject; and the consequence of printing this piece
will be, a great deal of odium drawn upon yourself; mischief
to you and no benefit to others. He that spits against the
wind, spits in his own face.
"I would advise you, therefore, not to attempt unchaining
the tiger, but to burn this piece before it is seen by any
other person; whereby you will save yourself a great deal of
mortification, by the enemies it may raise against you, and
perhaps a good deal of regret and repentance. If men are so
wicked _with religion_, what would they be if _without it_."
Franklin testifies to the remarkable courtesy which characterized all
the movements of the French minister, during these protracted and
delicate negotiations. The definitive treaty was signed on the 3d of
September, 1783. It was unanimously ratified by Congress on the 14th
of January, 1784. The king of England gave it his signature on the 9th
of April. Thus two years and three months passed between the beginning
of negotiations and the conclusion of the treaty of peace.
At the termination of the war crowds of Englishmen flocked to Paris.
Franklin was then recognized as incomparably the most illustrious man
on the continent of Europe. His apartments were ever thronged with men
of highest note from all the nations. He was then seventy-eight years
of age, suffering severely from the gout and the gravel. He often
received his guests in his bed chamber, sitting in his night gown,
wrapped in flannels, and reclining on a pillow. Yet his mind retained
all its brilliance. All who saw him were charmed. Mr. Baynes wrote,
"Of all the celebrated persons whom, in my life, I have
chanced to see, Dr. Franklin, both from his appearance and
his conversation, seemed to me the most remarkable. His
venerable, patriarchal appearance, the simplicity of his
manner and language, and the novelty of his observations
impressed me as one of the most extraordinary men that ever
existed."
At this time he wrote several essays, which are esteemed among the
best of his writings. He was awaiting permission from Congress to
return to America. His son, the governor, who was receiving a pension
of eight hundred pounds from the British Government, came over from
England to his illustrious father, soliciting reconciliation. This was
after the separation of many years. Franklin responded kindly, though
he said that nothing had ever wounded him so keenly as to find himself
deserted in his old age, by his only son; and to see him taking up
arms against a cause, upon which he had staked life, fortune and
honor.
A year passed before Franklin was recalled. He was then so feeble that
he could not walk, and could only ride in a litter. Mr. Jefferson
succeeded him. Upon his arrival in Paris, the Count de Vergennes said,
"You replace Dr. Franklin, I understand."
"No!" Mr. Jefferson replied, "I _succeed_ him. No man can _replace_
him."
Franklin's infirmities were such that he could not call upon the king
or the minister for an audience of leave. He, however, wrote to Count
de Vergennes a very grateful and affectionate letter, in which he
said,
"May I beg the favor of you, sir, to express respectfully
for me, to his majesty, the deep sense I have of all the
inestimable benefits his goodness has conferred on my
country; a sentiment that it will be the business of the
little remainder of the life now left me, to impress equally
on the minds of all my countrymen. My sincere prayers are
that God may shower down his blessings on the king, the
queen, their children and all the royal family, to the
latest generations."
The reply was equally cordial and affectionate. As a parting gift the
king sent Franklin his portrait, decorated with four hundred and eight
diamonds. Its estimated value was ten thousand dollars.
On the 12th of July, 1785, Franklin, accompanied by many admiring
friends in carriages, commenced his slow journey in a litter, from
Passy to Havre. It was four o'clock in the afternoon. The litter was
borne by two mules. The first night they stopped at St. Germain.
Thence the journey was continued at the rate of about eighteen miles a
day. The motion of the litter did not seriously incommode him. The
cardinal of Rochefoucald, archbishop of Rouen, insisted upon his
accepting the hospitality of his mansion at Gaillon. It was a superb
chateau, commanding a magnificent prospect, with galleries crowded
with paintings and the most valuable works of art.
"The cardinal," writes Franklin, "is much respected, and
beloved by the people of this country; bearing in all
respects, a most excellent character."
Though entreated to prolong his visit, Franklin resumed his journey at
an early hour the next morning. At Rouen he was again received with
the most flattering attentions. The _elite_ of the city gave a very
brilliant supper in his honor. Thus journeying in a truly triumphant
march, Franklin reached Havre on the 18th of July. After a delay of
three days he crossed the channel to Southampton. His old friends came
in crowds, and from great distances, to see him. Even the British
government had the courtesy to send an order exempting his effects
from custom-house duties.
It will be remembered that Franklin was a remarkable swimmer. There
are some human bodies much more buoyant than others. He records the
singular fact that, taking a warm, salt water bath here, he fell
asleep floating on his back, and did not awake for an hour. "This," he
writes, "is a thing which I never did before, and would hardly have
thought possible."
On the 28th of July, 1785, the ship spread her sails. The voyage
lasted seven weeks. This extraordinary man, then seventy-nine years of
age, wrote, on the passage, three essays, which are estimated among
the most useful and able of any which emanated from his pen.
On the 13th of September the ship entered Delaware Bay, and the next
morning cast anchor opposite Philadelphia. He wrote,
"My son-in-law came with a boat for us. We landed at Market
street wharf, where we were received by a crowd of people
with huzzahs, and accompanied with acclamations, quite to my
door. Found my family well. God be praised and thanked for
all his mercies."
The Assembly was in session, and immediately voted him a
congratulatory address. Washington also wrote to him a letter of
cordial welcome. The long sea voyage proved very beneficial to his
health. He was immediately elected to the Supreme Executive, and was
chosen chairman of that body. It is evident that he was gratified by
this token of popular regard. He wrote to a friend,
"I had not firmness enough to resist the unanimous desire of
my country folk; and I find myself harnessed again in their
service for another year. They engrossed the prime of my
life. They have eaten my flesh and seem resolved now to pick
my bones."
Soon after he was elected President, or as we should now say, Governor
of Pennsylvania. The vote rested with the Executive Council and the
Assembly, seventy-seven in all. He received seventy-six votes.
Notwithstanding the ravages of war, peace came with her usual
blessings in her hand. The Tory journals of England, were presenting
deplorable views of the ruin of the country since deprived of the
beneficial government of the British cabinet. Franklin wrote to his
old friend, David Hartley,
"Your newspapers are filled with accounts of distresses and
miseries, that these states are plunged into, since their
separation from Britain. You may believe me when I tell you
that there is no truth in those accounts. I find all
property in land and houses, augmented vastly in value; that
of houses in town at least four-fold. The crops have been
plentiful; and yet the produce sells high, to the great
profit of the farmer. Working people have plenty of employ,
and high pay for their labor."
There were many imperfections attending the old Confederacy. In the
year 1787, a convention met in Philadelphia, to frame a new
constitution. There was strong opposition to this movement. Washington
and Franklin were both delegates. Washington took the chair. The good
nature and wisdom of Franklin ruled the house. The convention met in
the State House. Franklin, eighty-one years of age, was regularly in
his seat, five hours a day, for four months. He was thoroughly
democratic in his views, and opposed every measure which had any
tendency to extend aristocratic privilege. He had seen that the
British government was in the hands of the nobles. And silent, as
prudence rendered it necessary for him to be, in reference to the
arbitrary government of France, he could not but see that the
peasantry were subject to the most intolerable abuses. This led him to
detest a monarchy, and to do every thing in his power to place the
government of this country in the hands of the people.
Much time was occupied in deciding upon the terms of union between the
smaller and the larger States. It will be remembered that this was the
subject of very excited debates in the convention of 1776. The
discussion was earnest, often acrimonious. Such bitterness of feeling
was engendered that, for some time it was feared that no union could
be effected.
It is evident that Franklin, as he approached the grave, became more
devout, and that he lost all confidence in the powers of philosophical
speculations to reform or regenerate fallen man. He saw that the
interposition of a divine power was needed to allay the intense
excitement in the convention, and to lead the impassioned members to
act under the conviction that they were responsible to God. On the
28th of June, this venerable, patriarchal man offered the following
memorable resolve:
"Resolved, That henceforth prayers, imploring the assistance
of Heaven, and its blessings on our deliberations, be held
in the Assembly every morning before we proceed to business;
and that one or more of the clergy of this city be requested
to officiate in that service."
The speech which accompanied this motion will forever be conspicuous
in our annals. He said:
"Mr. President! The small progress we have made, after four or five
weeks close attendence and continual reasonings with each other; our
different sentiments on almost every question, is, methinks, a
melancholy proof of the imperfection of the human understanding.
"In this situation of this Assembly groping, as it were, in the dark,
to find political truth, and scarce able to distinguish it when
presented to us, how has it happened, sir, that we have not yet
hitherto once thought of humbly applying to the Father of Lights to
illuminate our understandings?
"In the beginning of the contest with Britain, when we were sensible
of danger, we had daily prayers, in this room, for divine protection!
Our prayers, sir, were heard, and they were graciously answered. All
of us, who were engaged in the struggle, must have observed frequent
instances of a superintending Providence in our favor. To that kind
Providence we owe this happy opportunity of consulting, in peace, on
the means of establishing our future national felicity. And have we
now forgotten that powerful friend? or do we imagine that we no
longer need his assistance?
"I have lived, sir, a long time. And the longer I live, the more
convincing proofs I see of this truth; _That God governs in the
affairs of men_. And if a sparrow cannot fall to the ground without
his notice, is it probable that an Empire can rise without his aid?
We have been assured, sir, in the Sacred Writings, that 'except the
Lord build the house, they labor in vain that build it.' I firmly
believe this. And I also believe that, without His concurring aid, we
shall succeed in this political building, no better than the building
of Babel."
It is almost incomprehensible that, under the influence of such an
appeal, the great majority of the Assembly should have voted against
seeking divine aid. In a note appended to this speech, Franklin
writes,
"The convention, except three or four persons, thought
prayers unnecessary."[39]
[Footnote 39: Mr. Parton undoubtedly suggested the true reason for
this strange refusal to seek divine guidance. He writes,
"I think it not improbable that the cause of this opposition
to a proposal so seldom negatived in the United States, was
the prevalence in the Convention of the French tone of
feeling with regard to religious observances. If so, it was
the more remarkable to see the aged Franklin, who was a deist
at fifteen, and had just returned from France, coming back to
the sentiments of his ancestors."--_Parton's Franklin_ Vol.
2, p. 575.]
The convention came to a triumphant close, early in September, 1787.
Behind the speaker's chair there was a picture of the Rising Sun.
While the members were signing, Franklin turned to Mr. Madison, and
said,
"I have often, in the course of the session, and the vicissitudes of
my hopes and fears as to its issue, looked at the picture behind the
President, without being able to tell whether the sun were rising or
setting. But now at length, I have the happiness to know that it is a
rising, not a setting sun."
Washington was universally revered. Franklin was both revered and
loved. It was almost the universal feeling that, next to Washington,
our nation was indebted to Franklin for its Independence. Franklin
occupied, in the arduous field of diplomacy, the position which
Washington occupied at the head of our armies. It was certain that
Franklin had, at one period of his life, entirely renounced his belief
in Christianity, as a divine revelation. His Christian friends,
numbering hundreds, encouraged by some of the utterances of his old
age, were anxious to know if he had returned to the faith of his
fathers. Dr. Ezra Stiles, President of Yale College, was a friend of
Franklin's of many years standing. When the revered patriot had
reached his eighty-fifth year, Dr. Stiles wrote, soliciting his
portrait for the college library. In this letter, he says,
"I wish to know the opinion of my venerable friend,
concerning Jesus of Nazareth. He will not impute this to
impertinence; or improper curiosity in one, who, for so many
years, has continued to love, esteem and reverence his
abilities and literary character, with an ardor and
affection bordering on adoration."
What Dr. Stiles, and the community in general, wished to know was,
whether Dr. Franklin recognized the Divine, supernatural origin of
Christianity. Franklin evaded the question. This evasion of course
indicates that he did not recognize, in the religion of Jesus, the
authority of, "Thus saith the Lord." But he wished to avoid wounding
the feelings of his Christian friends by this avowal. He wrote,
"This is my creed. I believe in God, the Creator of the
Universe; that he governs it by his Providence; that he
ought to be worshiped; that the most acceptable service we
render to him, is doing good to his other children; that the
soul of man is immortal, and will be treated with justice in
another life, respecting its conduct in this. These I take
to be fundamental points in all sound religion, and I regard
them as you do, in whatever sect I meet with them.
"As to Jesus of Nazareth, my opinion of whom you
particularly desire, I think his system of morals and his
religion, as he left them to us, the best the world ever
saw, or is like to see. But I apprehend it has received
various corrupting changes, and I have, with most of the
Dissenters in England, some doubts as to his Divinity;
though it is a question I do not dogmatize upon, having
never studied it. And I think it needless to busy myself
with it now, when I expect soon an opportunity of knowing
the truth with less trouble.
"I see however no harm in its being believed, if that belief
has the good consequence, as probably it has, of making his
doctrines more respected and observed; especially as I do
not perceive that the Supreme takes it amiss, by
distinguishing the unbelievers in his government of this
world, with any peculiar marks of his displeasure. I shall
only add respecting myself, that, having experienced the
goodness of that Being, in conducting me prosperously
through a long life, I have no doubt of its continuance in
the next, though without the smallest conceit of meriting
such goodness."
He then adds the following suggestive postscript. "I confide that you
will not expose me to criticism and censures, by publishing any part
of this communication to you. I have ever let others enjoy their
religious sentiments, without reflecting on them, for those that
appeared to me unsupportable, or even absurd. All sects here, and we
have a great variety, have experienced my good will, in assisting them
with subscriptions for the building their new places of worship. And,
as I have never opposed any of their doctrines, I hope to go out of
the world in peace with them all."
Much of his time, in these hours of sickness, he employed in writing
his Autobiography. The sufferings he endured were at times very
severe. But when he spoke of his approaching departure, it was with
composure. At one time, when his daughter expressed the wish that he
might yet live many years, he replied "I hope not."
A clerical friend visited him, just as one of his paroxysms of pain
came on. As his friend in consequence was about to retire, he said,
"Oh no; don't go away. These pains will soon be over. They are for my
good. And besides, what are the pains of a moment in comparison with
the pleasures of eternity."
There was, in one of the chambers of his house, a very beautiful
painting of Christ on the Cross. He requested his nurse, a very worthy
woman, of the Friends' persuasion, to bring it down, and place it
directly before him. The Rev. David Ritter, a great admirer of
Franklin, called to see him. He had, however, but a few moments
before, breathed his last. Sarah Humphries, the nurse, invited David
into the chamber, to view the remains. Mr. Ritter expressed surprise
in seeing the picture of the Saviour on the cross occupying so
conspicuous a position, saying, "You know, Sarah, that many people
think that Dr. Franklin was not after this sort."
"Yes," she replied, "but thee knows, David, that many make a great
fuss about religion, who have very little. And many, who say but
little, have a good deal. He was never satisfied, if a day passed away
unless he had done some one a service.[40] Benjamin Franklin was one
of that sort. I will tell thee how the picture came here. Many weeks
ago, as he lay, he beckoned me to him, and told me of this picture, up
stairs, and begged I would bring it to him. I brought it. His face
brightened up, as he looked at it, and he said,
"'Ay Sarah; there is a picture worth looking at. That is the picture
of him who came into the world to teach men to love one another.'"
"After looking at it wistfully for some time, he said, 'Sarah, set
this picture up over the mantel-piece, right before me as I lie. I
like to look at it.'
"When I fixed it up he looked at it very much; and indeed died with
his eyes fixed upon it."
[Footnote 40: This reminds us of the exclamation of the Emperor Titus,
who, at the close of a day in which he could not perceive that he had
done any good, exclaimed, sadly, "Perdidi Diem." _I have lost a day._
Beautifully has the sentiment been expressed in the words, which it
would be well for all to treasure up,
"Count that day lost, whose low descending sun,
Views at thy hand no worthy action done."]
However deeply Franklin, in these dying hours may have pondered the
sublimities of Immortality--the Resurrection--the Judgment Throne--the
Final Verdict--Heaven--Hell,--he was very reticent respecting those
themes. We certainly see none of the triumph of Paul, and of
thousands of others, who have in varied language, expressed the
sentiment that,
"Jesus can make a dying bed
Feel soft as downy pillows are."
A few hours before his death, as some one urged him to change his
position, that he might breathe easier he replied, "a dying man can do
nothing easy." These were his last words. He then sank into a
lethargy, from which he passed into that sleep which has no earthly
waking. It was eleven o'clock at night, April 17, 1790. He had lived
eighty-four years, three months and eleven days.
But no candid and charitable reader can peruse this narrative,
without the admission that Benjamin Franklin, notwithstanding his
imperfections, was one of the wisest and best of all the fallen
children of Adam. From his dying hour to the present day his memory
has been justly cherished with reverence and affection, throughout the
civilized world. And there is no fear that this verdict will ever be
reversed.
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:
Minor changes have been made to correct obvious typesetters' errors;
otherwise, every effort has been made to remain true to the author's
words and intent.