In answer to a letter, which concerns some of the most material
interests of humanity, and of the two nations, Great Britain and
the United States of America, now at war, we received the
enclosed _indecent_ paper, as coming from your Lordship, which
we return for your Lordship's more mature consideration.
At first the British Government, regarding the Americans as rebels,
did not treat their prisoners as prisoners of war, but threatened to
try them for high treason. Their sufferings in the English prisons
were very great. Mr. David Hartley did much to relieve them, and
Franklin transmitted money for the purpose. When a treaty had been
formed between France and the States, and France had engaged in the
war, and when fortune began to turn in favour of the united armies,
the American prisoners received better treatment from the English
Government, and exchanges took place freely. In April, 1778, Mr.
Hartley visited Franklin at Passy, apparently for the purpose of
preventing, if possible, the offensive and defensive alliance between
America and France. Very many attempts were made to produce a rupture
between the French Government and the American Commissioners, but
Franklin insisted that no treaty of peace could be made between
England and America in which France was not included. In 1779 the
other Commissioners were recalled, and Franklin was made Minister
Plenipotentiary to the Court of France.
In a letter to Mr. David Hartley, dated February 2, 1780, Franklin
showed something of the feelings of the Americans with respect to the
English at that time:--
You may have heard that accounts upon oath have been taken in
America, by order of Congress, of the British barbarities
committed there. It is expected of me to make a school-book of
them, and to have thirty-five prints designed here by good
artists, and engraved, each expressing one or more of the horrid
facts, in order to impress the minds of children and posterity
with a deep sense of your bloody and insatiable malice and
wickedness. Every kindness I hear of done by an Englishman to an
American prisoner makes me resolve not to proceed in the work.
While at Passy, Franklin addressed to the _Journal of Paris_ a paper
on an economical project for diminishing the cost of light. The
proposal was to utilize the sunlight instead of candles, and thereby
save to the city of Paris the sum of 96,075,000 livres per annum. His
reputation in Paris is shown by the following quotation from a
contemporary writer:--
I do not often speak of Mr. Franklin, because the gazettes tell
you enough of him. However, I will say to you that our Parisians
are no more sensible in their attentions to him than they were
towards Voltaire, of whom they have not spoken since the day
following his death. Mr. Franklin is besieged, followed,
admired, adored, wherever he shows himself, with a fury, a
fanaticism, capable no doubt of flattering him and of doing him
honour, but which at the same time proves that we shall never be
reasonable, and that the virtues and better qualities of our
nation will always be balanced by a levity, an inconsequence,
and an enthusiasm too excessive to be durable.
Franklin always advocated free trade, even in time of war. He was of
opinion that the merchant, the agriculturist, and the fisherman were
benefactors to mankind. He condemned privateering in every form, and
endeavoured to bring about an agreement between all the civilized
powers against the fitting out of privateers. He held that no
merchantmen should be interfered with unless carrying war material. He
greatly lamented the horrors of the war, but preferred anything to a
dishonourable peace. To Priestley he wrote:--
Perhaps as you grow older you may ... repent of having murdered
in mephitic air so many honest, harmless mice, and wish that, to
prevent mischief, you had used boys and girls instead of them.
In what light we are viewed by superior beings may be gathered
from a piece of late West India news, which possibly has not yet
reached you. A young angel of distinction, being sent down to
this world on some business for the first time, had an old
courier-spirit assigned him as a guide. They arrived over the
seas of Martinico, in the middle of the long day of obstinate
fight between the fleets of Rodney and De Grasse. When, through
the clouds of smoke, he saw the fire of the guns, the decks
covered with mangled limbs and bodies dead or dying; the ships
sinking, burning, or blown into the air; and the quantity of
pain, misery, and destruction the crews yet alive were thus with
so much eagerness dealing round to one another,--he turned
angrily to his guide, and said, 'You blundering blockhead, you
are ignorant of your business; you undertook to conduct me to
the earth, and you have brought me into hell!' 'No, sir,' says
the guide, 'I have made no mistake; this is really the earth,
and these are men. Devils never treat one another in this cruel
manner; they have more sense and more of what men (vainly) call
humanity.'
Franklin maintained that it would be far cheaper for a nation to
extend its possessions by purchase from other nations than to pay the
cost of war for the sake of conquest.
Two British armies, under General Burgoyne and Lord Cornwallis, having
been wholly taken prisoners during the war, at last, after two years'
negotiations, a definitive treaty of peace was signed on September 3,
1782, between Great Britain and the United States, Franklin being one
of the Commissioners for the latter, and Mr. Hartley for the former.
On the same day a treaty of peace between Great Britain and France was
signed at Versailles. The United States Treaty was ratified by the
king on April 9, and therewith terminated the seven years' War of
Independence. Franklin celebrated the surrender of the armies of
Burgoyne and Cornwallis by a medal, on which the infant Hercules
appears strangling two serpents.
When peace was at length realized, a scheme was proposed for an
hereditary knighthood of the order of Cincinnatus, to be bestowed upon
the American officers who had distinguished themselves in the war.
Franklin condemned the hereditary principle. He pointed out that, in
the ninth generation, the "young noble" would be only "one five
hundred and twelfth part of the present knight," 1022 men and women
being counted among his ancestors, reckoning only from the foundation
of the knighthood. "Posterity will have much reason to boast of the
noble blood of the then existing set of Chevaliers of Cincinnatus."
On May 2, 1785, Franklin received from Congress permission to return
to America. He was then in his eightieth year. On July 12 he left
Passy for Havre, whence he crossed to Southampton, and there saw for
the last time his old friend, the Bishop of St. Asaph, and his family.
He reached his home in Philadelphia early in September, and the day
after his arrival he received a congratulatory address from the
Assembly of Pennsylvania. In the following month he was elected
President of the State, and was twice re-elected to the same office,
it being contrary to the constitution for any president to be elected
for more than three years in succession.
The following extract from a letter, written most probably to Tom
Paine, is worthy of the attention of some writers:--
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 favour 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 subtle, 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.
But were you to succeed, do you imagine any good would be done
by it? You yourself may find it easy to live a virtuous life
without the assistance afforded by religion; you having a clear
perception of the advantages of virtue and the disadvantages of
vice, and possessing strength of resolution sufficient to enable
you to resist common temptations. But think how great a portion
of mankind consists of weak and ignorant men and women, and of
inexperienced, inconsiderate youth of both sexes, who have need
of the motives of religion to restrain them from vice, to
support their virtue, and retain them in the practice of it till
it becomes _habitual_, which is the great point for its
security. And perhaps you are indebted to her originally, that
is, to your religious education, for the habits of virtue upon
which you now justly value yourself. You might easily display
your excellent talents of reasoning upon a less hazardous
subject, and thereby obtain a rank with our most distinguished
authors. For among us it is not necessary, as among the
Hottentots, that a youth, to be raised into the company of men,
should prove his manhood by beating his mother.
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? I
intend this letter itself as a _proof_ of my friendship, and
therefore add no _professions_ to it; but subscribe simply
yours.
During the last few years of his life Franklin suffered from a painful
disease, which confined him to his bed and seriously interfered with
his literary work, preventing him from completing his biography.
During this time he was cared for by his daughter, Mrs. Bache, who
resided in the same house with him. He died on April 17, 1790, the
immediate cause of death being an affection of the lungs. He was
buried beside his wife in the cemetery of Christ Church, Philadelphia,
the marble slab upon the grave bearing no other inscription than the
name and date of death. In his early days (1728) he had written the
following epitaph for himself:--