your business done, go; if not, send." John Paul Jones, one of the
bravest men in the Revolutionary War, had become the terror of Britain,
by the great number of vessels he had captured. In one cruise he is said
to have taken sixteen prizes; burned eight and sent home eight. With the
Ranger, on the coast of Scotland, he captured the Drake, a large
sloop-of-war, and two hundred prisoners. At one time, Captain Jones
waited for many months for a vessel which had been promised him. Eager
for action, he chanced to see "Poor Richard's Almanac," and read, "If
you would have your business done, go; if not, send." He went at once to
Paris, sought the ministers, and was given command of a vessel, which,
in honor of Franklin, he called Bon Homme Richard.
The battle between this ship and the Serapis, when, for three hours and
a half, they were lashed together by Jones' own hand, and fought one of
the most terrific naval battles ever seen, is well known to all who read
history. The Bon Homme Richard sunk after her victory, while her captain
received a gold medal from Congress and an appreciative letter from
General Washington.
So bravely did Captain Pearson, the opponent, fight, that the King of
England made him a knight. "He deserved it," said Jones, "and, should I
have the good-fortune to fall in with him again, I will make a lord of
him."
No wonder that Franklin's proverbs were copied all over the continent,
and translated into French, German, Spanish, Italian, Russian, Bohemian,
Greek, and Portuguese. In all these very busy years, Franklin did not
forget to study. When he was twenty-seven, he began French, then
Italian, then Spanish, and then to review the Latin of his boyhood. He
learned also to play on the harp, guitar, violin, and violoncello.
Into the home of the printer had come two sons, William and Francis. The
second was an uncommonly beautiful child, the idol of his father.
Small-pox was raging in the city, but Franklin could not bear to put his
precious one in the slightest peril by inoculation. The dread disease
came into the home, and Francis Folger, named for his grandmother--at
the age of four years--went suddenly out of it. "I long regretted him
bitterly," Franklin wrote years afterwards to his sister Jane. "My
grandson often brings afresh to my mind the idea of my son Franky,
though now dead thirty-six years; whom I have seldom since seen equalled
in every respect, and whom to this day I cannot think of without a
sigh." On a little stone in Christ Church burying-ground, Philadelphia,
are the boy's name and age, with the words, "The delight of all that
knew him."
This same year, when Franklin was thirty, he was chosen clerk of the
General Assembly, his first promotion. If, as Disraeli said, "the secret
of success in life is for a man to be ready for his opportunity when it
comes," Franklin had prepared himself, by study, for his opportunity.
The year later, he was made deputy postmaster, and soon became
especially helpful in city affairs. He obtained better watch or police
regulations, organized the first fire-company, and invented the Franklin
stove, which was used far and wide.
At thirty-seven, so interested was he in education that he set on foot a
subscription for an academy, which resulted in the noble University of
Pennsylvania, of which Franklin was a trustee for over forty years. The
following year his only daughter, Sarah, was born, who helped to fill
the vacant chair of the lovely boy. The father, Josiah, now died at
eighty-seven, already proud of his son Benjamin, for whom in his poverty
he had done the best he could.
About this time, the Leyden jar was discovered in Europe by
Musschenbroeck, and became the talk of the scientific world. Franklin,
always eager for knowledge, began to study electricity, with all the
books at his command. Dr. Spence, a gentleman from Great Britain, having
come to America to lecture on the subject, Franklin bought all his
instruments. So much did he desire to give his entire time to this
fascinating subject that he sold his printing-house, paper, and almanac,
for ninety thousand dollars, and retired from business. This at
forty-two; and at fifteen selling ballads about the streets! Industry,
temperance, and economy had paid good wages. He used to say that these
virtues, with "sincerity and justice," had won for him "the confidence
of his country." And yet Franklin, with all his saving, was generous.
The great preacher Whitefield came to Philadelphia to obtain money for
an orphan-house in Georgia. Franklin thought the scheme unwise, and
silently resolved not to give when the collection should be taken. Then,
as his heart warmed under the preaching, he concluded to give the copper
coins in his pocket; then all the silver, several dollars; and finally
all his five gold pistoles, so that he emptied his pocket into the
collector's plate.
Franklin now constructed electrical batteries, introduced the terms
"positive" and "negative" electricity, and published articles on the
subject, which his friend in London, Peter Collinson, laid before the
Royal Society. When he declared his belief that lightning and
electricity were identical, and gave his reasons, and that points would
draw off electricity, and therefore lightning-rods be of benefit,
learned people ridiculed the ideas. Still, his pamphlets were eagerly
read, and Count de Buffon had them translated into French. They soon
appeared in German, Latin, and Italian. Louis XV. was so deeply
interested that he ordered all Franklin's experiments to be performed in
his presence, and caused a letter to be written to the Royal Society of
London, expressing his admiration of Franklin's learning and skill.
Strange indeed that such a scientist should arise in the new world, be
a man self-taught, and one so busy in public life.
In 1752, when he was forty-six, he determined to test for himself
whether lightning and electricity were one. He made a kite from a large
silk handkerchief, attached a hempen cord to it, with a silk string in
his hand, and, with his son, hastened to an old shed in the fields, as
the thunder-storm approached.
As the kite flew upward, and a cloud passed over, there was no
manifestation of electricity. When he was almost despairing, lo! the
fibres of the cord began to loosen; then he applied his knuckle to a key
on the cord, and a strong spark passed. How his heart must have throbbed
as he realized his immortal discovery!
A Leyden jar was charged, and Franklin went home from the old shed to be
made a member of the Royal Society of London, to receive the Copley gold
medal, degrees from Harvard and Yale Colleges, and honors from all parts
of the world. Ah! if Josiah Franklin could have lived to see his son
come to such renown! And Abiah, his mother, had been dead just a month!
But she knew he was coming into greatness, for she wrote him near the
last: "I am glad to hear you are so well respected in your town for them
to choose you an alderman, although I don't know what it means, or what
the better you will be of it besides the honor of it. I hope you will
look up to God, and thank him for all his good providences towards you."
Sweetest of all things is the motherhood that never lets go the hand of
the child, and always points Godward!
Lightning-rods became the fashion, though there was great opposition,
because many believed that lightning was one of the means of punishing
the sins of mankind, and it was wrong to attempt to prevent the Almighty
from doing his will. Some learned men urged that a ball instead of a
point be used at the end of the rod, and George III. insisted that the
president of the Royal Society should favor balls. "But, sire," said Sir
John Pringle, "I cannot reverse the laws and operations of nature."
"Then, Sir John, you had perhaps better resign," was the reply, and the
obstinate monarch put knobs on his conductors.
Through all the scientific discord, Franklin had the rare good-sense to
remain quiet, instead of rushing into print. He said, "I have never
entered into any controversy in defence of my philosophical opinions; I
leave them to take their chance in the world. If they are _right_, truth
and experience will support them; if _wrong_, they ought to be refuted
and rejected. Disputes are apt to sour one's temper and disturb one's
quiet."
Franklin was not long permitted to enjoy his life of study. This same
year, 1752, he was elected a member of the Pennsylvania Assembly, and
reelected every year for ten years, "without," as he says, "ever asking
any elector for his vote, or signifying, either directly or indirectly,
any desire of being chosen." He was also, with Mr. William Hunter of
Virginia, appointed postmaster-general for the colonies, having been the
postmaster in Philadelphia for nearly sixteen years. So excellent was
his judgment, and so conciliatory his manner, that he rarely made
enemies, and accomplished much for his constituents. He cut down the
rates of postage, advertised unclaimed letters, and showed his rare
executive ability and tireless energy.
For many years the French and English had been quarrelling over their
claims in the New World, till finally the "French and Indian War," or
"Seven Years' War," as it was named in Europe, began. Delegates from the
various colonies were sent to Albany to confer with the chiefs of the
Six Nations about the defence of the country. Naturally, Franklin was
one of the delegates. Before starting, he drew up a plan of union for
the struggling Americans, and printed it in the _Gazette_, with the now
well known wood-cut at the bottom; a snake cut into as many pieces as
there were colonies, each piece having upon it the first letter of the
name of a colony, and underneath the words, "JOIN or DIE." He presented
his plan of union to the delegates, who, after a long debate,
unanimously adopted it, but it was rejected by some of the colonies
because they thought it gave too much power to England, and the king
rejected it because he said, "The Americans are trying to make a
government of their own."
Franklin joined earnestly in the war, and commanded the forces in his
own State, but was soon sent abroad by Pennsylvania, as her agent to
bring some troublesome matters before royalty. He reached London, July
27, 1757, with his son William, no longer the friendless lad looking for
a position in a printing-house, but the noted scientist, and
representative of a rising nation. Members of the Royal Society hastened
to congratulate him; the universities at Oxford and Edinburgh conferred
degrees upon him. While he attended to matters of business in connection
with his mission, he entertained his friends with his brilliant
electrical experiments, and wrote for several magazines on politics and
science.
After five years of successful labor, Doctor Franklin went back to
Philadelphia to receive the public thanks of the Assembly, and a gift of
fifteen thousand dollars for his services. His son was also appointed
governor of New Jersey, by the Crown. Franklin was now fifty-seven, and
had earned rest and the enjoyment of his honors. But he was to find
little rest in the next twenty-five years.
The "Seven Years' War" had been terminated by the Treaty of Paris,
February 10, 1763. Of course, great expenses had been incurred. The
following year, Mr. Grenville, Prime Minister of England, proposed that
a portion of the enormous debt be paid by America through the Stamp Act.
The colonies had submitted already to much taxation without any
representation in Parliament, and had many grievances. The manufacture
of iron and steel had been forbidden. Heavy duties had been laid upon
rum, sugar, and molasses, and constables had been authorized to search
any place suspected of avoiding the duties.
When the Stamp Act was suggested, the colonies, already heavily in debt
by the war, remonstrated in public meetings, and sent their protests to
the king. Franklin, having been reappointed agent for Pennsylvania, used
all possible effort to prevent its passage, but to no avail. The bill
passed in March, 1765. By this act, deeds and conveyances were taxed
from thirty-seven cents to one dollar and twenty-five cents apiece;
college degrees, ten dollars; advertisements, fifty cents each, and
other printed matter in proportion.
At once, the American heart rebelled. Bells were tolled, and flags hung
at half-mast. In New York, the Stamp Act was carried about the streets,
with a placard, "The folly of England and the ruin of America." The
people resolved to wear no cloth of English manufacture. Agents
appointed to collect the hated tax were in peril of their lives. Patrick
Henry electrified his country by the well known words, "Caesar had his
Brutus, Charles I. had his Cromwell, and George III."--and when the
loyalists shouted, "Treason!" he continued, "may profit by their
example. If that be treason, make the most of it."
Grenville saw, too late, the storm he had aroused. Franklin was now, as
he wrote to a friend, "extremely busy, attending members of both houses,
informing, explaining, consulting, disputing, in a continual hurry from
morning till night." His examination before the House of Commons filled
England with amazement and America with joy. When asked, "If the Stamp
Act should be repealed, would it induce the Assemblies of America to
acknowledge the rights of Parliament to tax them, and would they erase
their resolutions?" he replied, "No, never!"
"What used to be the pride of the Americans?"
"To indulge in the fashions and manufactures of Great Britain."
"What is now their pride?"
"To wear their old clothes over again, till they can make new ones,"
said the fearless Franklin.
The great commoners William Pitt and Edmund Burke were our stanch
friends. A cry of distress went up from the manufacturers of England,
who needed American markets for their goods, and in 1766 the Stamp Act
was repealed.
America was overjoyed, but her joy was of short duration; for in the
very next year a duty was placed on glass, tea, and other articles. Then
riots ensued. The duty was repealed on all save tea. When the tea
arrived in Boston Harbor, the indignant citizens threw three hundred and
forty chests overboard; in Charlestown, the people stored it in cellars
till it mildewed; and from New York and Philadelphia they sent it home
again to Old England.
In 1774, the Boston Port Bill, which declared that no merchandise should
be landed or shipped at the wharves of Boston, was received by the
colonists with public mourning. September 5 of this year, the First
Continental Congress met at Philadelphia, and again a manly protest was
sent to George III. Again the great Pitt, Earl of Chatham, poured out
his eloquence against what he saw was close at hand--"a most accursed,
wicked, barbarous, cruel, unjust, and diabolical war." But George III.
was immovable.
The days for Franklin were now bitter in the extreme. Ten thousand more
troops had been sent to General Gage in Boston, to compel obedience.
Franklin's wife was dying in Philadelphia, longing to see her husband,
who had now been absent ten years, each year expecting to return, and
each year detained by the necessities of the colonies. At last he
started homeward, landing May 5, 1775. His daughter had been happily
married to Mr. Richard Bache, a merchant, but his wife was dead, and
buried beside Franky. The battles of Lexington and Concord had been
fought; the War for Freedom was indeed begun.
Franklin was now almost seventy, but ready for the great work before
him. He loved peace. He said: "All wars are follies, very expensive and
very mischievous ones. When will mankind be convinced of this, and agree
to settle their differences by arbitration? Were they to do it, even by
the cast of a die, it would be better than by fighting and destroying
each other." But now war was inevitable. With the eagerness of a boy he
wrote to Edmund Burke: "General Gage's troops made a most vigorous
retreat,--twenty miles in three hours,--scarce to be paralleled in
history; the feeble Americans, who pelted them all the way, could scarce
keep up with them."
He was at once made a member of the Continental Congress, called to meet
May 10, at Philadelphia. George Washington and Patrick Henry, John and
Samuel Adams, were in the noted assemblage. They came with brave hearts
and an earnest purpose. Franklin served upon ten committees: to engrave
and print Continental money, to negotiate with the Indians, to send
another but useless petition to George III., to find out the source of
saltpetre, and other matters. He was made postmaster-general of the
United States, and was also full of work for Pennsylvania.
England had voted a million dollars to conquer the colonies, and had
hired nearly twenty thousand Hessians to fight against them, besides her
own skilled troops. The army under Washington had no proper shelter,
little food, little money, and no winter clothing. Franklin was
Washington's friend and helper in these early days of discouragement. At
first the people had hoped to keep united to the mother country; now the
time had arrived for the Declaration of Independence, by which America
was to become a great nation. Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, Benjamin
Franklin, Roger Sherman of Connecticut, and Robert R. Livingston of New
York were appointed to draw up the document. Jefferson wrote the
Declaration, and Franklin and Adams made a few verbal changes. And then,
with the feeling so well expressed by Franklin, "We must hang together,
or else, most assuredly, we shall all hang separately," the delegates
fearlessly signed their names to what Daniel Webster well called the
"title-deed of our liberties."
And now another important work devolved upon Franklin. The colonies
believed that the French were friendly and would assist. He was
unanimously chosen commissioner to France, to represent and plead the
cause of his country. Again the white-haired statesman said good-bye to
America, and sailed to Europe. As soon as he arrived, he was welcomed
with all possible honor. The learned called upon him; his pictures were
hung in the shop-windows, and his bust placed in the Royal Library. When
he appeared on the street a crowd gathered about the great American. He
was applauded in every public resort.
"Franklin's reputation," said John Adams, "was more universal than that
of Leibnitz or Newton, Frederick or Voltaire; and his character more
beloved and esteemed than any or all of them. His name was familiar to
government and people, to kings, courtiers, nobility, clergy, and
philosophers, as well as plebeians, to such a decree that there was
scarcely a peasant or a citizen, a valet de chambre, coachman or
footman, a lady's chamber-maid or a scullion in a kitchen, who was not
familiar with it, and who did not consider him a friend to humankind.
When they spoke of him they seemed to think he was to restore the golden
age." Royalty made him welcome at court, and Marie Antoinette treated
him with the graciousness which had at first won the hearts of the
French to the beautiful Austrian. France made a treaty of alliance with
America, and recognized her independence, February 6, 1778, which gave
joy and hope to the struggling colonies. Franklin was now made minister
plenipotentiary. What a change from the hated work of moulding tallow
candles!
The great need of the colonies was money to carry on the war, and,
pressed as was France in the days preceding her own revolution, when M.
Necker was continually opposing the grants, she loaned our country--part
of it a gift--over five million dollars, says James Parton, in his
admirable life of Franklin. For this reason, as well as for the noble
men like Lafayette who came to our aid, the interests of France should
always be dear to America. When the Revolutionary War was over, Franklin
helped negotiate the peace, and returned to America at his own request
in the fall of 1785, receiving among his farewell presents a portrait of
Louis XVI., set with four hundred and eight diamonds. Thomas Jefferson
became minister in his stead. When asked if he had replaced Dr.
Franklin, he replied, "I _succeed_; no one can ever _replace_ him."
He was now seventy-nine years old. He had been absent for nine years.
When he landed, cannon were fired, church-bells rung, and crowds greeted
him with shouts of welcome. He was at once made President of the
Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, and at eighty-one a delegate to the
convention that framed our Constitution, where he sat regularly five
hours a day for four months. To him is due the happy suggestion, after a
heated discussion, of equal representation for every State in the
Senate, and representation in proportion to population in the House.
At eighty-four, in reply to a letter to Washington, he received these
tender words:--
"If to be venerated for benevolence, if to be admired for talents,
if to be esteemed for patriotism, if to be beloved for
philanthropy, can gratify the human mind, you must have the
pleasing consolation to know that you have not lived in vain. And I
flatter myself that it will not be ranked among the least grateful
occurrences of your life to be assured that, so long as I retain my
memory, you will be recollected with respect, veneration, and
affection, by your sincere friend,
"GEORGE WASHINGTON."
The time for the final farewell came, April 17, 1790, near midnight,
when the gentle and great statesman, doubly great because so gentle,
slept quietly in death. Twenty thousand persons gathered to do honor to
the celebrated dead. Not only in this country was there universal
mourning, but across the ocean as well. The National Assembly of France
paid its highest eulogies.
By his own request, Franklin was buried beside his wife and Franky,
under a plain marble slab, in Christ Church Cemetery, Philadelphia, with
the words,--
Benjamin } Franklin.
and } 1790.
Deborah }
He was opposed to ostentation. He used to quote the words of Cotton
Mather to him when he was a boy. On leaving the minister's house, he hit
his head against a beam. "'Stoop,' said Mather; 'you are young, and have
the world before you; stoop as you go through it, and you will miss many
hard thumps!' This advice, thus beat into my head, has frequently been
of use to me, and I often think of it when I see pride mortified, and
misfortunes brought upon people by their carrying their heads too high."
Tolerant with all religions, sweet-tempered, with remarkable tact and
genuine kindness, honest, and above jealousy, he adopted this as his
rule, which we may well follow: "To go straight forward in doing what
appears to me to be right, leaving the consequences to Providence."
[Illustration: Thomas Jefferson signature]
THOMAS JEFFERSON.
Five miles east of Charlottesville, Virginia, near where the River
Rivanna enters the James, Thomas Jefferson was born, April 13, 1743, the
third in a family of eight children.
Peter Jefferson, his father, descended from a Welsh ancestry, was a
self-made man. The son of a farmer, with little chance for schooling, he
improved every opportunity to read, became, like George Washington, a
surveyor, and endured cheerfully all the perils of that pioneer life.
Often, in making his survey across the Blue Ridge Mountains, he was
obliged to defend himself against the attacks of wild beasts, and to
sleep in hollow trees. When the provisions gave out, and his companions
fell fainting beside him, he subsisted on raw flesh, and stayed on until
his work was completed.
So strong was he physically that when two hogsheads of tobacco, each
weighing a thousand pounds, were lying on their sides, he could raise
them both upright at once. Besides this great strength of body, he
developed great strength of mind. Shakespeare and Addison were his
favorites. It was not strange that by and by he became a member of the
Virginia House of Burgesses.
When Peter Jefferson was thirty-one, he married into a family much above
his own socially--Jane, the daughter of Isham Randolph, a rich and
cultured gentleman. She was but nineteen, of a most cheerful and hopeful
temperament, with a passionate love of nature in every flower and tree.