enforce the Sugar Act, which was passed to prevent the American
importation of sugar and molasses from the West Indies, in exchange for
lumber and agricultural products. It had been suffered to fall into
abeyance; but suddenly in 1761 the government issued Writs of Assistance
or search-warrants, authorizing customs officers to enter private stores
and dwellings to find imported goods, not necessarily known but when
even suspected to be there. This was first brought to bear in
Massachusetts, where the Colonists spiritedly refused to submit, and
took the matter into the courts. James Otis, a young Boston lawyer, was
advocate for the Admiralty, but, resigning his commission, he appeared
on behalf of the people, and his fiery eloquence aroused the Colonists
to a high pitch of revolutionary resolve. John Adams, who heard the
speech, declared, "Then and there American independence was born."
Independency however, was not yet in most men's minds, but the spirit of
resistance to arbitrary acts of the sovereign was unmistakably aroused.
In 1763 a no less memorable contest arose in Virginia, when the king
refused to sanction a law of the colonial legislature imposing a tax
which the clergy were unwilling to submit to. This too was tested in the
courts, and a young lawyer named Patrick Henry defended so eloquently
the right of Virginia to make her own laws in spite of the king, that
his passionate oratory inflamed all that colony with the same
"treasonable" spirit.
But the centre of resistance was in Boston, where in 1765 the people
were incited to enthusiasm by the eloquence of James Otis and Samuel
Adams, in reference to still another restrictive tax, the Stamp Act,
which could not be enforced, except by overwhelming military forces, and
was wisely repealed by Parliament. This was followed by the imposition
of duties on wine, oil, fruits, glass, paper, lead, colors and
especially tea, an indirect taxation, but equally obnoxious; increasing
popular excitement, the sending of troops, collision between the
soldiers and the people in 1770, and in 1773 the rebellious act of the
famous "Tea Party," when citizens in the guise of Indians emptied the
chests of tea on board merchantmen into Boston harbor. Soon after, the
Boston Port Bill was passed, which shut up American commerce and created
immense irritation. Then were sent to the rebellious city regiments of
British troops to enforce the acts of Parliament; and finally the troops
were, at the people's expense, quartered in the town, which was treated
as a conquered city.
In view of these disturbances and hostile acts, the first Continental
Congress of the different colonies met in Philadelphia, September, 1774,
and issued a petition to the king, an address to the people of Great
Britain, and an address to the Colonies, thus making a last effort for
conciliation. The British Government, obstinately refusing to listen to
its own wisest counsellors, replied with restraining acts, forbidding
participation in the fisheries and other remunerative sea-work.
Moreover, it declared Massachusetts to be in a state of rebellion; in
consequence of which the whole province prepared for war. At the same
time the colonial legislatures promptly approved and agreed to sustain
the acts of the Continental Congress. Nor did they neglect to appoint
committees of safety for calling out minute men and committees of
supplies for arming and provisioning them. General Gage, the British
military commander in Massachusetts, attempted to destroy the
collection of ammunition and stores at Concord, and in consequence, on
April 19, 1775, the battle of Lexington was fought, followed in June by
that of Bunker Hill.
Thus began the American Revolution, which ended in the independence of
the thirteen Colonies and their federal union as States under a common
constitution.
As the empire of the Union expanded, as power grew, as opportunities
increased, so did obstructions arise and complications multiply. But
what I have called "the American idea"--which I conceive to be _Liberty
under Law_--has proved equal to all emergencies. The marvellous success
with which American institutions have provided for the development of
the Anglo-Saxon idea of individual independence, without endangering the
common weal and rule, has been largely due to the arising of great and
wise administrators of the public will.
It is to a consideration of some of the chief of these notable men who
have guided the fortunes of the American people from the Revolutionary
period to the close of the Civil War, that I invite the attention of the
reader in the next two volumes. Those who have not materially modified
the condition of public affairs I omit to discuss at large, eminent as
have been their talents and services. Consequently I pass by the
administrations of all the presidents since Jefferson, except those of
Jackson and Lincoln, the former having made a new departure in national
policy, and the latter having brought to a conclusion a great war. I
consider that Franklin, Hamilton, Clay, Webster, and Calhoun did more
than any of the presidents, except those I have mentioned, to affect the
destinies of the country, and therefore I could not omit them.
There will necessarily be some repetitions of fact in discussing the
relations of different men to the same group of events, but this has
been so far as possible avoided. And since my aim is the portrayal of
character and influence, rather than the narration of historical annals,
I have omitted vast numbers of interesting details, selecting only those
of salient and vital importance.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.
1706-1790.
DIPLOMACY.
At the commencement of the Revolutionary War, the most prominent and
influential man in the colonies was perhaps Benjamin Franklin, then
sixty-nine years of age. Certainly it cannot be doubted that he was one
of the most illustrious founders of the American Republic. Among the
great statesmen of the period, his fame is second only to that of
Washington.
I will not dwell on his early life, since that part of his history is
better known than that of any other of our great men, from the charming
autobiography which he began to write but never cared to finish. He was
born in Boston, January 17, 1706, the youngest but two of seventeen
children. His father was a narrow-minded English Puritan, but
respectable and conscientious,--a tallow-chandler by trade; and his
ancestors for several generations had been blacksmiths in the little
village of Ecton in Northamptonshire, England. He was a precocious boy,
not over-promising from a moral and religious point of view, but
inordinately fond of reading such books as were accessible, especially
those of a sceptical character. He had no sympathy with the theological
doctrines then in vogue in his native town. At eight years of age he was
sent to a grammar school, and at ten he was taken from it to assist his
father in soap-boiling; but, showing a repugnance to this sort of
business, he was apprenticed to his brother James at the age of twelve,
to learn the art, or trade, of a printer. At fifteen we find him writing
anonymously, for his brother's newspaper which had just been started, an
article which gave offence to the provincial government, and led to a
quarrel with his brother, who, it seems, was harsh and tyrannical.
Boston at this time was a flourishing town of probably about ten
thousand or twelve thousand people, governed practically by the
Calvinistic ministers, and composed chiefly of merchants, fishermen, and
ship-carpenters, yet all tolerably versed in the rudiments of education
and in theological speculations. The young Benjamin, having no liking
for the opinions, manners, and customs of this strait-laced town, or for
his cold and overbearing brother, concluded in his seventeenth year to
run away from his apprenticeship. He found himself in a few days in New
York, without money, or friends, or employment. The printers' trade was
not so flourishing in the Dutch capital as in the Yankee one he had
left, and he wandered on to Philadelphia, the largest town in the
colonies, whose inhabitants were chiefly Quakers,--thrifty, prosperous,
tolerant, and kind-hearted. Fortunately, there were several
printing-presses in this settlement; and after a while, through the
kindness of a stranger,--who took an interest in him and pitied his
forlorn condition, wandering up and down Market Street, poorly
dressed, and with a halfpenny roll in his hand, or who was attracted
by his bright and honest face, frank manners, and expressive
utterances,--Franklin got work, with small wages. His industry and
ability soon enabled him to make a better appearance, and attract
friends by his uncommon social qualities.
It does not appear that Franklin was particularly frugal as a young man.
He spent his money lavishly in convivial entertainments, of which he was
the life, among his humble companions, a favorite not only with them,
but with all the girls whose acquaintance he made. So remarkable was he
for wit, good nature, and intelligence that at the age of eighteen he
attracted the notice of the governor of the province, who promised to
set him up in business, and encouraged him to go England to purchase
types and a printing-press. But before he sailed, having earned money
enough to buy a fine suit of clothes and a watch, he visited his old
home, and paraded his success with indiscreet ostentation, much to the
disgust of his brother to whom he had been apprenticed.
On the young man's return to Philadelphia, the governor, Sir William
Keith, gave him letters to some influential people in England, with
promises of pecuniary aid, which, however, he never kept; so that when
Franklin arrived in London he found himself without money or friends.
But he was not discouraged. He soon found employment as a printer and
retrieved his fortunes, leading a gay life, and spending his money, as
fast as he earned it, at theatres and in social enjoyments with boon
companions of doubtful respectability. Disgusted with London, or
disappointed in his expectations, he returned to Philadelphia in 1726 as
a mercantile clerk for a Mr. Durham, who shortly after died; and
Franklin resumed his old employment with his former employer, Keimer,
the printer.
On his long voyage home he had had time for reflection, and resolved to
turn over a new leaf, and become more frugal and respectable. He would
not give up his social pleasures, but would stick to his business, and
employ his leisure time in profitable reading. This, Mr. Parton calls
his "regeneration." Others might view it as the completion of "sowing
his wild oats." He certainly made himself very useful to the old
visionary Keimer, who printed banknotes for New Jersey, by making
improvements on the copper plate; but he soon left this employment and
set up for himself, in partnership with another young man.
The young printers started fairly, and hired the lower part of a house
in Market Street, most of which they sublet. Their first job brought
them but five shillings. Soon after, they were employed to print a
voluminous history of the Quakers, at a very small profit; but the work
was so well done that it led to a great increase of business.
The idea then occurred to Franklin to print a newspaper, there being but
one in the colony, and that miserably dull. His old employer Keimer,
hearing of his purpose accidentally, stole the march on him, and started
a newspaper on his own account, but was soon obliged to sell out to
Franklin and Meredith, not being able to manage the undertaking. "The
Pennsylvania Gazette" proved a great success, and was remarkable for its
brilliant and original articles, which brought the editor, then but
twenty-three years old, into immediate notice. He had become frugal and
industrious, but had not as yet renounced his hilarious habits, and
could scarcely be called moral, for about this time a son was born to
him of a woman whose name was never publicly known. This son was
educated by Franklin, and became in later years the royal governor of
New Jersey.
Franklin was unfortunate in his business partner, who fell into drinking
habits, so that he was obliged to dissolve the partnership. In
connection with his printing-office, he opened a small stationer's-shop,
and sold blanks, paper, ink, and pedler's wares. His business increased
so much that he took an apprentice, and hired a journeyman from London.
He now gave up fishing and shooting, and convivial habits, and devoted
himself to money-making; but not exclusively, since at this time he
organized a club of twelve members, called the "Junto,"--a sort of
debating and reading society. This club contrived to purchase about
fifty books, which were lent round, and formed the nucleus of a
circulating library, which grew into the famous Franklin Library, one of
the prominent institutions of Philadelphia. In 1730, at the age of
twenty-four, he married Deborah Reid, a pretty, kind-hearted, and frugal
woman, with whom he lived happily for forty-four years. She was a true
helpmeet, who stitched his pamphlets, folded his newspapers, waited on
customers at the shop, and nursed and tended his illegitimate child.
After his marriage Franklin gave up what bad habits he had acquired,
though he never lost his enjoyment of society. He was what used to be
called "a good liver," and took but little exercise, thus laying the
foundation for gout, a disease which tormented him in the decline of
life. He also somewhat amended his religious creed, and avowed his
belief in a superintending Providence and his own moral accountability
to God, discharging conscientiously the duties to be logically deduced
from these beliefs,--submission to the Divine will, and kindly acts to
his neighbors. He was benevolent, sincere, and just in his dealings,
abhorring deceit, flattery, falsehood, injustice, and all dishonesty.
From this time Franklin rapidly gained in public esteem for his
integrity, his sagacity, and his unrivalled good sense. His humor, wit,
and conversational ability caused his society to be universally sought.
He was a good judge of books for his infant library, and he took a great
interest in everything connected with education. He was the life of his
literary club, and made reading fashionable among the Quakers, who
composed the leading citizens of the town,--a people tolerant but
narrow, frugal but appreciative of things good to eat, kind-hearted but
not remarkable for generosity, except to the poor of their own
denomination, law-abiding but not progressive, modest and unassuming but
conscious and conceited, as most self-educated people are. It is a
wonder that a self-educated man like Franklin was so broad and liberal
in all his views,--an impersonation of good nature and catholicity, ever
open to new convictions, and respectful of opinions he did not share,
provoking mirth and jollity, yet never disturbing the placidity of a
social gathering by irritating sarcasm.
Franklin's newspaper gave him prodigious influence, both social and
political, in the infancy of journalism. It was universally admitted to
be the best in the country. Its circulation rapidly increased, and it
was well managed financially. James Parton tells us that Franklin
"originated the modern system of business advertising." His essays,
or articles, as we now call them, had great point, vivacity, and
wit, and soon became famous; they thus prepared the way for his
almanac,--originally entitled "Richard Saunders," and selling for
five-pence. The sayings of "Poor Richard" in this little publication
combined more wisdom and good sense in a brief compass than any other
book published in America during the eighteenth century. It reached the
firesides of almost every hamlet in the colonies. The New England
divines thought them deficient in spirituality, rather worldly in their
form, and useful only in helping people to get on in their daily
pursuits. But the eighteenth century was not a spiritual age, in
comparison with the age which preceded it, either in Europe or America.
The acute and exhaustive treatises of the seventeenth century on God, on
"fixed fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute," on the foundation of
morals, on consciousness as a guide in metaphysical speculation, had
lost much of their prestige, if Jonathan Edwards' immortal deductions
may be considered an exception. Prosperity and wars and adventures had
made men material, and political themes had more charm than theological
discussion. Pascal had given place to Hobbes and Voltaire, and Hooker to
Paley. In such a state of society, "Poor Richard," inculcating thrift
and economy, in English as plain and lucid as that of Cobbett
half-a-century later, had an immense popularity. For twenty-five years,
it annually made its way into nearly every household in the land. Such a
proverbial philosophy as "Honesty is the best policy," "Necessity never
made a good bargain," "Fish and visitors smell in three days," "God
heals, and the doctors take the fees," "Keep your eyes open before
marriage, and half-shut afterwards," "To bear other people's
afflictions, every one has courage enough and to spare,"--savored of a
blended irony and cynicism exceedingly attractive to men of the world
and wise old women, even in New England parishes, whatever Calvinistic
ministers might say of the "higher life." The sale of the almanac was
greater than that of the "Pilgrim's Progress," and the wealth of
Franklin stood out in marked contrast with the poverty of Bunyan a
century before.
The business enterprise of the gifted publisher at this time was a most
noticeable thing. He began to import books from England and to print
anything that had money in it,--from political tracts to popular poems,
from the sermons of Wesley to the essays of Cicero. He made no mistakes
as to the popular taste. He became rich because he was sagacious, and an
oracle because he was rich as well as because he was wise. Everybody
asked his advice, and his replies were alike courteous and witty,
although sometimes ironical. "Friend Franklin," said a noted Quaker
lawyer, "thou knowest everything,--canst thou tell me how I am to
preserve my small beer in the back yard? for I find that my neighbors
are tapping it for me." "Put a barrel of Madeira beside it," replied
the sage.
In 1736 Franklin was elected clerk of the General Assembly,--a position
which brought more business than honor or emolument. It secured his
acquaintance with prominent men, many of whom became his friends; for it
was one of his gifts to win hearts. It also made him acquainted with
public affairs. Its chief advantage, however, was that it gave him the
public printing. His appointment in 1737 as postmaster in Philadelphia
served much the same purposes. With increase of business, the result of
industry and good work, and of influence based on character, he was,
when but thirty years old, one of the most prominent citizens of
Philadelphia. His success as a business man was settled. He had the best
printing jobs in Pennsylvania, Maryland, New Jersey, and Delaware. No
one could compete with him successfully. He inspired confidence while he
enlarged his friendships, to which he was never indifferent. Whatever he
touched turned to gold. His almanac was a mine of wealth; the sermons he
printed, and the school-books he manufactured, sold equally well. With
constantly increasing prosperity, he kept a level head, and lived with
simplicity over his shop,--most business men lived over their shops, in
both England and America at that period. He got up early in the morning,
worked nine or ten hours a day, spent his evenings in reading and study,
and went to bed at ten, finding time to keep up his Latin, and to
acquire French, Spanish, and Italian, to make social visits, and play
chess, of which game he was extravagantly fond till he was eighty years
old. His income, from business and investments, was not far from ten
thousand dollars a year,--a large sum in those days, when there was not
a millionaire in the whole country, except perhaps among the Virginia
planters. Franklin was not ambitious to acquire a large fortune; he
only desired a competency on which he might withdraw to the pursuit of
higher ends than printing books. He had the profound conviction that
great attainments in science or literature required easy and independent
circumstances. It is indeed possible for genius to surmount any
obstacles, but how few men have reached fame as philosophers or
historians or even poets without leisure and freedom from pecuniary
cares! I cannot recall a great history that has been written by a poor
man in any age or country, unless he had a pension, or office of some
kind, involving duties more or less nominal, which gave him both leisure
and his daily bread,--like Hume as a librarian in Edinburgh, or Neander
as a professor in Berlin.
Franklin, after twenty years of assiduous business and fortunate
investments, was able to retire on an income of about four thousand
dollars a year, which in those times was a comfortable independence
anywhere. He retired with the universal respect of the community both as
a business man and a man of culture. Thus far his career was not
extraordinary, not differing much from that of thousands of others in
the mercantile history of this country, or any other country. By
industry, sagacity, and thrift he had simply surmounted the necessity of
work, and had so improved his leisure hours by reading and study as to
be on an intellectual equality with anybody in the most populous and
wealthy city in the country. Had he died before 1747 his name probably
would not have descended to our times. He would have had only a local
reputation as a philanthropical, intelligent, and successful business
man, a printer by trade, who could both write and talk well, but was not
able to make a better speech on a public occasion than many others who
had no pretension to fame.
But a new career was opened to Franklin with the attainment of leisure
and independence,--the career of a scientific investigator. The subject
which most interested him was electricity, just then exciting great
interest in Europe. In 1746 he attended in Boston a lecture on
electricity by Dr. Spence, of Scotland, which induced him to make
experiments himself, the result of which was to demonstrate to his mind
the identity of the electrical current with lightning. What the new,
mysterious power was, of course he could not tell, nor could any one
else. All he knew was that sparks, under certain conditions, were
emitted from clothing, furs, amber, jet, glass, sealing-wax, and other
substances when excited by friction, and that the power thus producing
the electric sparks would repel and attract. That amber, when rubbed,
possesses the property of attracting and repelling light bodies was
known to Thales and Pliny, and subsequent philosophers discovered that
other substances also were capable of electrical excitation. In process
of time Otto Guericke added to these simple discoveries that of electric
light, still further established by Isaac Newton, with his glass globe.
A Dutch philosopher at Leyden, having observed that excited electrics
soon lost their electricity in the open air, especially when the air was
full of moisture, conceived the idea that the electricity of bodies
might be retained by surrounding them with bodies which did not conduct
it; and in 1745 the Leyden jar was invented, which led to the knowledge
that the force of electricity could be extended through an indefinite
circuit. The French savants conveyed the electric current through a
circuit of twelve thousand feet.