iiliii ^^m\\ '^,i'i>\^'\ mlmmm. i^<)^:, 0' "'>- V ■y' 'CO' o>- fj^ .-is ,0 c.. sVV ' •^CO' <:^ v^^' ■:> c,- '. '"^z C^^' ^^^ "^. * g I \ * \ V \' . ■'^^ ,<\^ .x^^- ,0 o o-^ -^^ o ,-^^ .%^ "^. % ^ V * aT> •!- .-a 5i oA -t * N '^^<^'^'" ,^"^- ^,/ /\^' ,%^^<5/u'-_ % ..^^ %, V ^^r.\ ^^ :|; .'^' ■\" "^^ v^' •V. .^x ^^x* .^ -. '-- -): ^' >. ^° °^. ■^ > .0" •c. ■'-^. ' '^ _N 't' •^ ^^' o ' -t.. ^ -^.v >'^. ' ..^^''^. '^.. ^.'^ Y '/• c •0' ,^^^ v^-* <}-■ .See page i66. f 'i ,v BROTHeRS. ii.lLMNG TO THE DECLARATION OI- I N DEPENDENC E — " SITTING IN THE HIGH-BACKED EASY- CHAIR WHILE THOMAS JEFFERSON READ HIS DRAFT OF THAT WONDERFUL PAPER." THE TRUE STORY OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN THE AMERICAN STATESMAN ELBRIDGE S. BROOKS AUTHOR OF "historic BOYS," " THE CENTURY BOOK FOR YOUNG AMERICANS,'' " THE TRUE STORY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON," "a SON OF THE REVOLUTION," " THE TRUE STORY OF THE UNITED STATES," "a BOY OF THE FIRST EMPIRE," AND MANY OTHERS ILLUSTRATED BY VICTOR A. SEARLES BOSTON LOTHROP PUBLISHING COMPAN.^ 181898 2nd COPY. 1898, f/'ster of C09I' i^^ ^\ Twnr.opiFS RFnnwpn. 6111 Copyright, 1898, BY LoTHROP Publishing Company. All rights reserved. t 301- fS-^'^1 C. J. PETERS k SON. TYPOGRAPHERS, BOSTON PREFACE. Statesman, philanthropist, patriot, inventor, author, printer, humorist, business-man, helper, friend, the lover of children, of humanity and the world — all these was Benjamin Franklin, most remarkable of Americans. As one who had a hand in shaping the destinies and securing the indepen- dence of his native land, by word and pen, by brain and hand, it is most fitting that the story of his life should be re-told for young Americans in this series of Children's Lives of Great Men, in which Washington and Lincoln, Columbus and Grant have place. Benjamin Franklin belongs to the world ; but especially does he belong to America. As the nations honored him while living, so the republic glorifies him when dead, and enshrines him in the choicest of its niches — the one which is regarded as the loftiest — • the hearts of the common people. Among the learned men of the world none is more famous than he ; among the patriots of the world none holds a higher place ; among Americans none is worthier remembrance, veneration, or imitation. For the boys and girls of America I have tried to tell once more Franklin's remarkable story ; hoping that, as they read anew of his struggles, his successes, and his greatness, they may find, perhaps, new things to honor and new traits to emulate in that shrewd, kindly, big-brained, great-hearted, noble old man, of whom the French poet said : — " He snatched the thunderbolt from heaven and the sceptre from tyrants." E. S. B. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. PAGE WHY THE candle-maker's SON PEDDLED BALLADS . . . . II CHAPTER n. HOW THE BOY-EDITOR HAD HIS TROUBLES ..... 29 CHAPTER HI. HOW THE PRINTER LEARNED THE TRUTH OF AN OLD PROVERB . . 4/ CHAPTER IV. HOW THE PRINTER BECAME A PHILOSOPHER ..... 64 CHAPTER V. HOW HE SAVED THE COUNTRY FOR THE FIRST TIME .... 83 CHAPTER VI. HOW HE BECAME DR. FRANKLIN . . . . . , . 103 CHAPTER VH. HOW HE FACED THE PARLIAMENT OF ENGLAND . . . . 1 20 CHAPTER Vni. HOW HE FOUGHT THE TAX TYRANTS . . . . . . • 137 CHAPTER IX. HOW HE SIGNED HIS NAME WITH A FLOURISH . . . . . I 5^ CHAPTER X. HOW HE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE SECOND TIME . . . I/- 7 g CONTENTS. CHAPTER XI. HOW HE BECAME PRESIDENT OF PENNSYLVANIA . . . . 1 94 CHAPTER Xn. HOW HE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE THIRD TIME . . . . 211 CHAPTER Xin. THE OLD philosopher's ONLY REGRET 228 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. Franklin listening to the Declaration of Independence The birthplace of Franklin ..... In the doorway of the Old South Church . Site of Franklin's birthplace on Milk Street, Boston Ben The other boy ....... " Let's build our wharf with these," said Ben '• A pioneer in improvements " . The site of Franklin's boyhood home as it looks to-day Ben Franklin peddling his own ballads in Boston-town " He read everything he could get hold of Ben Franklin, apprentice ....... The young " vegetarian "....... " He slipped the paper under the printing-house door" Tracking a runaway apprentice in Ben Franklin's day " He was soon on blue water, bound for New York and a living Ben wishes to pay for his passage ..... " The boy handed him out three big puffy rolls " " A young girl of about his own age was ^standing in the doorway " " Young Mr. Franklin " and the Governor Where Franklin learned his trade William Penn ..... " Poor Ben had been bitterly fooled " " He married Deborah Read " . " I sometimes brought home the paper . , " He was the leading newspaper publisher in America" Title-page and specimen page from " Poor Richard's Almanac The Philadelphia library of to-day ..... Monument to Franklin's parents, in Boston " You can have ten," said the Governor of New York . Franklin standing guard as a private soldier General Braddock ........ Where Fort Duquesne stood in Franklin's day . The Pennsylvania Hospital, founded by Benjamin Franklin in 1752 *' He touched his knuckle to the hanging key " . Where Franklin flew the kite ...... The University of Pennsylvania, founded by Benjamin Franklin through the streets wheelbarrow Fn ontispiece. Page 12 13 15 16 16 18 21 24 27 30 32 34 35 39 41 43 47 51 55 57 60 61 66 69 72 76 81 86 91 93 97 100 105 109 1 12 114 lO LIST OF ILLUSTRAriONS. Independence to the Presi Cambridjre Franklin and the lightning Page Faneiiil Hall, Boston "They spun their own wool, and did without many things they needed " . . . " No power, howsoever great, can force men to change their opinions," said Franklin, Edmund Burke, the friend of America, who spoke and argued the cause of the colo- nies in Parliament ......... '•He could never get beyond the prime minister, the king's head man ' Where the Boston massacre occurred " Obstinate King George grew more obstinate " Franklin and Wedderburn ...... '"There's a fable for you,' he said" .... Independence Hall, Philadelphia .... Franklin and the committee presenting the Declaration of dent of Congress ...... " He wrote Mr. Strahan a famous letter" . Washington and Franklin conferring at the Craigie House The Liberty Bell, which Franklin set a-ringing . Some of Franklin's fellow-workers for liberty Franklin signs the Declaration . The little lame Frenchman . The Marquis de Lafayette . The Hotel de Valentinais, at Passy The Treaty of Alliance John Paul Jones The messenger from America General Burgoyne Signing the treaty of peace In the Queen's litter . The return of Franklin " The nearer the bone the sweeter the meat " Near Franklin's old home . Franklin's pew in Christ Church A glimpse of the Doctor In Independence Hall The inkstand used in signing the Constitution . Washington visits Franklin at his home in Philadelphia Franklin and certain of his patriot associates The signers of the Constitution ..... Franklin and the President's chair .... The statue of Franklin in his native city Franklin and his granddaughter .... Franklin's reception-room " Under the big mulberry-tree in his garden " The last letter ........ . . The grave of Franklin ........ i6 i\ 26 129 THE TRUE STORY OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, THE AMERICAN STATESMAN. CHAPTER I. WHY THE candle-maker's SON PEDDLED BALLADS. ^np^HIS is the story of Benjamin Franklin, most remark- I able of Americans. How remarkable a man he was I shall try to tell you. What he did for his country, for you and for me, is a tale worth the telling and the hear- ing. For his story is fully as remarkable as was he himself. As wise as Solomon, as simple as JEsop, as witty as Mark Twain, as inventive as Edison, as gentle as a lamb, as bold as a lion, he tried his hand at everything, and failed at nothing./ Sixty of his eighty-five years of life were spent for the good of his countrymen. He built America; for what our republic is to-day is largely due to the prudence, the forethought, the statesmanship, the enterprise, the great- ness, the ability, and the wisdom of Benjamin Franklin. His story is one that the boys and girls of America should 12 IVHV THE CANDLE-MAKER'S SON PEDDLED BALLADS. know by heart, and should all love to hear. And that is why I try to tell it. Listen to his story. On the corner of Milk and Washington Streets, in the city of Boston, in the State of Massachusetts, there stands a famous church. It is known as the Old South Meeting-house. Since 172;) it has stood on that corner, its gray bricks overgrown with ivy, its simple spire a land- mark for all Boston, its doors a rallying-point for every visitor to the historic old town. The doors of the plain wooden meet- ing-house, to which succeeded this brick church which all America loves, swung open on the after- noon of Sunday, January 17, 1706, to let in a big, well-built, pleasant-faced working-man, with a little baby in his arms. The big man w\as Josiah Franklin, soap-boiler and candle- maker; the little baby was his son Benjamin, who had been born that very Sunday morning in the little frame house across the way on Milk Street. The baby was brought to church to be baptized; and in the records of the Old South Church you can still see and read this entry: "Benjamin, son of Josiah Franklin and Abiah, his wife." To-day, on the site of the little wooden hous^e, opposite THE BIRTHPLACE OF FRANKLIN AS IT LOOKED ONE HUNDRED YEARS AC.O. IVHV THE CANDLE-MAKER 'S SON PEDDLED BALLADS. 1 3 the Old South Church on Milk Street, stands a tall iron building full of of- fices. And on the front of the building, beneath a bust of the great American, you may read the words: " Birthplace of Frank- Im. As I have said, his father was a soap- and candle-maker. He had a family of sixteen children, of whom Benjamin was the youngest son, Benjamin's mother was a loving, wise, and noble woman ; his father was a kind- hearted, just, and hon- orable man. To-day, if you stand before the gateway of what is known as the Old Granary Burying-ground in Boston, while beneath you the ceaseless trolley-cars whiz through the Subway, — an out- IN THE DOORWAY OF THE OLD SOUTH CHURCH. Sunday, January 17, 1706. 14 Jf'^y THE CANDLE-MAKER'S SON PEDDLED BALLADS. growth of Franklin's wonderful brain, — while above you rises the graceful spire of famous Park-street Church, you can see, in the centre of that quiet and crowded burial- place of governors, patriots, and great men, a tall granite obelisk, on which stands out in bold letters the name " Franklin." It is the perpetual reminder of Benjamin Franklin's affection for his Boston home; for it was placed there in 1829 by the citizens of Boston to take the place of the crumbling stone reared on that very spot by Ben- jamin Franklin to mark the grave of his loved and honored father and mother. In this strict but happy home Benjamin Franklin grew into a healthy, hearty, strong, and sturdy boyhood. While he was yet a very small fellow his father removed from the little gambrel-roofed house on Milk Street to one not much larger on what is now Hanover Street, near to where it is crossed by Union Street. There, before the house, swung a blue ball about as big as a cocoanut; upon this ball ap- peared the name of Benjamin's father, and through all the town it was known that Mr. Josiah Franklin carried on the business of making soap and candles "at the sign of the Blue Ball." With a dozen or more boys and girls always at table, the little house on Hanover Street w^as a noisy but happy, if crowded, home. There is lots of fun in big families if only the brothers and sisters "pull together," and are kept well in hand by father and mother. This was the case in the JFIfV THE CAXDLE-MAKER' S SON PEDDLED BALLADS. 1 5 Franklin home. " It was, indeed, a lowly dwelling we were brougiit up in," said Benjamin's younger sister Jane, many years after; but we were fed plentifully, made comfortable Avith fire and cloth- ing, and seldom had any contention among us. All was harmony, especially between the heads, and they were uni- versally respected." Plenty to eat, plenty to do, warm, comfortable, con- tented, united — that should have made a pleasant home for any boy, should it not? Evidently it did for Benjamin Franklin, even though he did grow restless and unset tied at last, as will most ambitious boys. He long remem- bered his happy Boston home, and the good times he had there as a boy. He was a wide-awake little fellow, with a frank, handsome face, ''bright as a button," ''busy as a bee;'' SITE OF franklin's BIRTHPLACE ON MILK STREET, BOSTON, AS IT LOOKS TO-DAY. 1 6 JJ'IIV THE CAXDLE-MAKER' S SON PEDDLED BALLADS. and, though full of mischief and often getting into scrapes, he was the pet and pride of the family, and a friend to all the neighborhood. People took a good deal of notice of this active, earnest little fellow, from Uncle Benjamin in England who sent him letters in rhyme, to his boy " crony " next door. But sometimes the Boston boys would take ad- vantage of little Benjamin, and thus teach him a lesson; for Franklin always managed to find a moral in every thing. One day, when he was about seven years old, there was a holiday in Boston. As a holiday present Benjamin was given a handful of pennies, and started out for a good time, feeling as rich as a lord. He made a straight line for the toy- shop; but, on his way, he met a boy blowing a whistle. It was shrill and clear, and at once Ben concluded that he wished for a whistle more than anything else. He must have that very whistle too; he could not wait to get to the store. So he asked the boy to sell it, and offered his hand- ful of pennies in exchange. The other boy took all he could get, of course, and walked away proud of his business THE OTHER BOY. xa WHY THE CANDLE-MAKER'S SON PEDDLED BALLADS. 1 7 shrewdness, while Ben walked the other way equally proud of his purchase. J Soon he was in the house, whistling with all his might. A whistle is a noisy thing in a house ; it is shrill, ear-splrt^- tingi_and exasperating; it soon gets to be a nuisance. So the Franklin family found it. And when they found, too, what Ben had paid for it, they made it very unpleasant for the small whistler. They laughed at his bargain-mak- ing. "A fine tradesman you are, Ben," they said. "Why, you might have bought four whistles at the toy-shop for what you have paid for one. Just see how you threw your money away; just think what you might have bought with it — and a whistle besides;" and other things of the same sort — you know how small boys have to suffer. Ben did; until at last, so he said as he told the story more than sixty years after, " I cried with vexation ; and my reflections gave me more chagrin than the whistle gave me pleasure." But he had learned a lesson, just as General Grant did, you remember, in that famous horse trade when he was a boy. For Franklin had learned what it is to make a bad bargain, and how little sympathy folks get who do make one. He remembered it too. For often in his busy life, so he tells us, " When I was tempted to buy some unneces- sary thing, I said to myself, ' Don't pay too much for the whistle ! ' and so saved my money." But he was a wise little fellow, even if he did sometimes get sold ; and the boys who were his playmates knew it. 1 8 ir/fV THE CANDLE-MAKER'S SON PEDDLED BALLADS. They found him to be a good comrade, — jolly, venture- some, full of plans and projects, just the boy to be a leader in sports and, sometimes, in pranks. One of these pranks got him into trouble. Down, towards what is now Boston's crowded and busy water- front, there used to be a marsh in Ben Franklin's day. It was a fine place to catch minnows at high tide, and Ben ^?^ ^>^' "let's build our wharf with these," said ben. and the other boys used to do a great deal of fishing there. But they went there so much that they often trampled the low bank into a mud-hole. " That ought to be fixed," said Ben to the boys. '* Let's build a wharf." Now, the Boston folks had just built a fine new pier, called Long Wharf. Every Boston boy to-day knows where it is. Ben said if they only had stones enough they could IVHV THE CANDLE-MAKER'S SON PEDDLED BALLADS. 19 build just as good a "Long Wharf" for their business in that minnow marsh. He hunted around, and soon spied, near by, a pile of stones, which had been brought there to build the cellar of a new house. "Just the thing, boys," he said. " Let's build our wharf with these." No one thought about what the man might say who was building the house. That very night Ben and his boys "tackled" that heap of stones, lugged them to the minnow marsh, and, working like beavers, soon had a fine fishing- wharf. Of course this got them into trouble; for the workmen made a great fuss, and when Ben was found to be at the bottom of it all he was quickly taken to task. He took his punishment like a little man; but he argued with his father that he ought not to be punished. The stones were there ; the boys just had to have a wharf; they had built a good one. But his father did not agree with him. Ben's excuse was no excuse, he held. " The stones were not yours to take, Ben," he said; "and what is not honest cannot be truly useful." So Ben Franklin learned another lesson, which stayed by him all through his eventful life, — that " honesty is the best policy." This marsh was one of Boston's "water privileges;" for, in Franklin's boyhood, Boston was half water, and Ben always loved the water. He was a good hand in a boat ; he was a strong and fearless swimmer, and could not only 20 IVIIY THE CANDLE-MAKER' S SON PEDDLED BALLADS. " give a dare," but take one, as well. Few of his compan- ions could beat him on or in the water. Have you noticed, in reading these ** Children's Lives of Great Men," how all these great men were fine swimmers when they were boys? Columbus, you know, once swam six miles when he w^as but sixteen; Washington and Lin- coln were both strong and tireless swimmers; and Grant was the "champion" at the Georgetown ''swimming-hole." Franklin, from the time he was twelve to the time he was sixty, was as much at home in the water as a duck. Well, one of the secrets of being a good swimmer is having confidence — to feel that you can do a thing and do it well, if you only try. And confidence was what all these great men had ; confidence and faith helped them all to success. Almost the earliest of Franklin's many experiments and inventions were connected with swimming. He wished to fix up something so that he could swim long and far, and he tried two experiments when he was a Boston boy. Once he got up a sort of push-board or pallet for his hands, and also a broad kind of sandal or swimming-shoe for his feet. These worked fairly well; but the best help he found was to fly a kite, and fastening the string to his wrist, let the kite pull him through the water, while he lay quietly on his back, lowering or raising the kite as he wished to go fast or slow. Many years after, when he was an old man, he explained this kite-swimming to a friend, and said, " I have never. WJ^y THE CANDLE-MAKER' S SON PEDDLED BALLADS. 2.1 since that time, practised this singular mode of swimming, though I think it not impossible to cross in this manner from Dover to Calais. The packet-boat, however," he added dryly, " is still preferable." But just see what a pioneer in improvements was Ben- jamin Franklin ! To-day, professional swimmers try the "A PIONEER IN improvements" — FRANKLIN'S EXPERIMENTS IN KITE-TRAVEL. same sort of hand-and-foot helps ; and Franklin's kite- swimming was but the beginning of the kite-travel which so many learned men are now trying to turn to practical use. Franklin was a good scholar, although he never went much to school. In fact, he had to leave school when he was ten years old and go to work. But there was a good deal of reading and discussing in the humble home of 22 IVIIV THE CANDLE-iMAKER' S SON PEDDLED BALLADS. the candle-maker, and Ben himself said that he did not remember when he could not read. Before he was seven years old he used to correspond "in rhyme" with his good Uncle Benjamin, across the sea in London ; and the opinion of all his father's friends was, so he tells us in his delightful story of his own life, " that I should certainly make a good scholar." So Josiah the candle-maker started his son Ben off to school early. At eight years of age, Ben was in the gram- mar school, and stood at the head of his class, was pro- moted to higher classes twice within a year, and then sent to a "writing-school" to learn writing and arithmetic. "I learned fair writing pretty soon," he says; "but I failed in arithmetic and made no progress in it." And yet he became the greatest philosopher of his day ! Remember this, boys and girls, when you struggle over your arithmetic sums, and grumble at your mathematical problems. But life with a big family in the little house on Union Street became a hard struggle for Josiah the candle-maker, and his boys and girls were set to work early. He had wished Ben to be a good scholar, and had even thought of making a preacher of the boy ; but things did not go as he wished, and when Ben was but ten years old he was taken from school and put to candle-making. He did not like the business any better than Ulysses Grant liked his father's trade. You remember about that in the story of Grant, do you not? PFI/V THE CANDLE-MAKER' S SOiV PEDDLED BALLADS. 23 Ben hated to cut wicks and make moulds and run grease ; he hated the touch and the smell, and he grum- bled, I imagine, as much as a good-natured boy can grumble. " I don't like it, father," he said; " I'd rather go to sea." If you recall the story of George Washington, you will remember how strong an attraction blue water was in those days to all the boys along shore. In fact, it ahvays has been; although in these days, when the groan of machinery has taken the place of the creak of sails, and coal-smoke that of Washington Irving's ''smacking breeze," much of the poetry and fascination has, for boys, gone from a sailor's life. Now, one of Josiah Franklin's boys had run away to sea, and he did not wish to lose another in that way. So, when he saw that Ben really did dislike the trade of a candle-maker, and would not keep at it if he found a chance to get to sea, Josiah Franklin decided to find some other trade for his son. After looking up a number of occupations, he finally settled upon the trade of a cutler ; that is, a maker of knives and edge-tools. But, in those days, the fathers of boys who were set to learning a trade had to pay a fee for the privilege of learn- ing how to work. The cutler's fee was one hundred dollars. This was more than Josiah Franklin could afford; and so, at length, he decided to make Ben a printer, and apprenticed him to the boy's elder brother James. 24 JP'I/y THE CANDLE-MAKER' S SON PEDDLED BALLADS. Brother James had a printing-office at the corner of what is now Franklin Avenue and Court Street in Boston; and though young Ben, who had grown to be twelve years old, did not much like the idea of workingf under his brother, or of becoming a printer in- stead of a sailor, it was better than making can- dles. So he went to set- ting up type, and became, what boys who learn that trade have always been called,- — it isn't a very nice name, — a " printer's devil." It w^as in the year 1718 that Benjamin Franklin began to learn the print- er's trade, and to-day he is remembered and hon- ored by all the printers in America as one of the greatest in their great and honorable craft. Apprentices in those days had hard lines. They were what is called " bound " to their masters THE SITE OF FRANKLIN'S BOYHOOD HOME AS IT LOOKS TO-DAY. {Hanover and Union Streets, Boston.) JP'/IV 2WjE CANDLE-MAKER' S SON FEDDLED BALLADS. 25 until they were twenty-one and ** free." It was almost as bad as being a slave; for they had few privileges, and but little time of their own, and Ben's master, besides being his own brother, was an especially hard man to get along with. But Ben stood it pretty well for a while. He knew it was what most apprentice boys had to expect; and as he was something of a philosopher already, he tried to make the best of it, and put up with all Brother James's harsh treatment as " part of the day's work." The day's work meant hard work too. But Ben was bright and ambitious, and set himself the task of self-educa- tion. He was always a great reader. He had read every- thing that came into his father's house, — pretty dry reading, too, you boys would think it, — and he read everything that came into his brother's shop. Besides this, he struck up an acquaintance with a num- ber of boys who worked for the Boston booksellers. Book- sellers and printers, you know, have a good deal to do with each other, and so Ben became quite "chummy" with the booksellers' boys. He would get them to lend him books from their shelves, and would sit up late at night — some- times almost all night — to read the book through and have it back at the book-store next morning. This was hardly to be expected, was it, from the man who afterwards wrote those lines that have sent so many, many boys and girls to bed when they were not a bit sleepy, — 26 JFHY THE CANDLE-MAKER'S SON PEDDLED BALLADS. " Early to bed and early to rise Makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise." And, speaking of verse-making: that was one of Ben Franklin's "fads." He wrote verses — they were scarcely poetry — from the time he was six or seven years old. His brother James knew this, and determined to make money out of it. So he set the boy to writing ballads, and then, when he had printed them, made him go out on the street and sell them. Ballad-peddling was quite a trade in those days. The so-called poets were ready to write verses on whatever sub- ject interested people, and the people were always ready to buy. It was like the trade to-day in picture papers, cheap magazines, and popular songs. So Ben Franklin began to write and peddle ballads on the Boston streets. Two of them were very popular. One was about a dreadful shipwreck in Boston Harbor; the other was all about the capture and hanging of a famous pirate. Both of these ballads, so Franklin tells us in his autobiography, were "wretched stuff." But they sold well. His father thought them "wretched" too, I imagine; for when he discovered what young Benjamin was doing he objected strongly. He told Ben that a poet's lot was not a happy one, and that he had better stick to his trade and stop rhyming, for poor poetry was worse than none. Josiah Franklin, you see, was a very wise and sensible man. So Ben took his father's advice and " stuck to the case," [*«> 1%: ■V 1 ; t- i BEN FRANKLIN PEDDLING HIS OWN BALLADS IN BOSTON-TOWN. HOW THE BOY-EDITOR HAD HIS TROUBIES. 29 setting up type and spending all hissparejime in reading and improving his mind, thus laying the foundation for that wonderful knowledge of what to say and how to say it, that made^ him in later years the deepest thinker and bnghtest writer of his day. C CHAPTER II. HOW THE BOY-EDITOR HAD HIS TROUBLES. ITTLE by little the printer boy began to learn his value, and to know how much he was really worth to his brother James. "In a little time," he tells us in his delightfully natural way of saying a good thing about himself, '* I made great proficiency in the business, and became a useful hand to my brother." But he had to find this out for himself. Brother James never told him so ; in fact, Brother James seldom approved, and often abused him. Ben found out that he could write pretty well, and he set himself to studying all the harder after his father had put an end to the ballad-peddling business. He studied all the time. What little money he had to spend — and it was very little — he put into books. He read everything he could get hold of; and from what he read 30 BO IV THE BOY-EDITOR HAD HIS TROUBLES. he tried to get some good. For he was a thoughtful fel- low, big-boned and big-brained, and he was always learning. You remember that he found arithmetic a hard task at school. Perhaps his teacher w^as at fault; for arithmetic is really easy, if you can only start your train of reasoning right. At any rate, Ben thought he was a fail- ure in that study, and he set himself the task of mastering it. He did so ; and after that he successfully ''tackled" algebra and geom- etry. He studied navigation, rhetoric, and grammar, and recollect ! he did it all by himself. That boy of fifteen really knew a little of every- thinij that could be learned from the dull, dry books of those days, and sim- ply because he had a good mind, and trained himself to reason out things, and to remember them too. He was not what is called a ready talker. He knew that ; so he set to work to make of himself an easy writer. For this purpose he sent his memory to school ; that is, he would read a thing, then think it over, write it down in his own language, compare it, a week after, with the real HE READ EVERYTHING HE COULD GET HOLD OF HOW THE BOV-EDITOR HAD HIS TROUBLES. 3 1 thing', and find wliere he was wrong in expression or style. If he found his wMy of telling things was heavy and dull, he would read a story, turn it into verse, and then put it back into prose again. That sounds like hard work, does it not? But, you see, this boy was ambitious; he was bound to make the best of himself. Perhaps, too, he had wdiat all of us do not have, — what is called a grenius for learning. . O O But all this reading and writing and studying took time; and when you remember how hard apprentice boys had to w^ork in Ben Franklin's day, you may well ask "Why! how under the sun could the boy make time to do it all?" Well, that is just it! He really did make time. Up early in the morning, up late at night, he put every spare moment to use. But when even that did not o-ive him time enough, ^ — what do you think? he turned vegetarian! That is, he gave up eating meat, and lived on bread, fruit, rice, and potatoes. He struck a bargain with his brother to give him the cost of his board and let him board him- self. So he saved both time and money. A slice of bread, a handful of raisins, and a glass of water was often Ben's only dinner. "I presently found," he tells us, "that I could save half what my brother paid me as board money. This was an additional fund for buying books. But I had another advantage in it. My brother and the rest going from the printing-house to their meals, I remained there alone, and, despatching my light repast, had the rest of the 32 ffOJV THE BOY-EDITOR HAD HIS TROUBLES. time for study, in which I made the greater progress from that greater clearness of head and quicker apprehension which usually attend temperance in eating and drinking." PHOTOGRAPHED BY BALDWIN COOLIOGE, BEN FRANKLIN, APPRENTICE. (Bas-relief bronze tablet on ilie />edes/al d) Grcenougit s statue of Franklin in /rout aj the City Hall, Boston.) Did you ever hear of such a boy? Few could stand that training ; but Benjamin Franklin was wonderfully strong, and this over-study and under-eating did not hurt him. So_bright and_clear4ie.aded a boy, strong, willing, and ready, must have been a great help in that little printing- I/OIF THE BOY-EDITOR HAD HIS TROUBLES. 33 office. Indeed, he was ; though, as I have said, Brother James never told him so. It would never have done for a master to say a kind or appreciative word in those hard days to his over- worked apprentice. It was much better, so folks said, to " teach boys their place and keep 'em down." So when, in August, 1 72 1, James Franklin, printer, started a news- paper in Boston, he relied for help upon his young brother Ben much more than he would admit. He called his newspaper the New England Courant. There were very few newspapers in the world then — only four in all America, and three of these in Boston. The Courant was the third. It was published weekly, and it made a great stir in Boston, where it soon had as many as a hundred sub- scribers ! That was a great many for those days. The Courant was, I am afraid, the very first of what we call ** sensational newspapers" in America. We have a great many now, and good people are still wondering whether such newspapers do more harm than good. This same discussion went on in 1721 about James Franklin's Courant. His newspaper was not always wise, or always just, or always true. But it was bold. It spoke right out; it dared to say a good many sharp things about the way the colony was governed and " run " ; it poked fun at leading people, and made them very, very angry. People were not used to such things in those strict s!) 4 no IF THE BOY-EDITOR HAD HIS TROUBLES. days ; and, as a result, the editor of the Courant soon got into trouble. _ • Ben Franklin was a very busy boy at that time, — setting type for the Courant, printing it, folding it, and delivering it to the subscribers. He office-boy, compositor, printer, newsboy all in one. And, as worked away at the case, e kept his ears open. He heard all that visitors to the Courant office and those who wrote for the paper had to say about matters and things ; and, as he had pretty strong opin- ions of his own, he came to the conclusion that he, too, could ^^Tite some- thing for the paper that people would read. So one day he '' wrote a piece." Just what it was no one really knows; but it is generally believed that it was a sort of dream that " pitched into " Harvard College graduates. You see, even in those days, boys who educated them- selves had a sort of spite against those who could afford to go to college, and liked to make fun of them. It is THE YOUNG "VEGETARIAN." HO IV THE BOY-EDITOR HAD HIS TROUBIES. o: not a thing to be praised. You remember the fable of the fox and the grapes, do you not? Well, it is often just that way with boys who cannot go to college. The grapes are sour. It was so with Benjamin Franklin at that time; though he got over the feeling when he became a man, and did very much toward ad van cing college education in America. So the " piece " which he wrote for the Cotirant, and which he signed " Mrs. Silence Dogood," was more saucy than wise. But he finished it; and not daring to tell his brother what he had done, he slipped the paper under the printing-house door at night, and ran away as fast as his legs could carry him. That's just the way Charles Dickens did with his first story, you know. Next morning the "anonymous con- tribution " was found, and read aloud by Brother James to his friends, while the boy Benjamin stood at the case setting type. There was just enough of truth in the article to stir them up and set them to talking. They enjoyed it greatly. They wondered who could have written it, and " guessed " HE SLIPPED THE PAPER UNDER THE PRINTING-HOUSE DOOR." 36 HOW THE BOY-EDITOR If AD HIS TROUBLES. about every one of any note or brains in town — except that silent apprentice boy at the case. Mustn't he have felt proud and "set up," though? He did. Telling the story more than fifty years after, he said that their approval gave him " exquisite pleasure." And when the article appeared in the next number of the Courant, young Ben Franklin felt as if he w^ere just about the biggest boy in all Boston. When he found how well this article "took," he wrote more of the same sort, touching up different things that were open to criticism in the colony. But when he saw how they were enjoyed and talked about by the readers of the Courant, he really could not keep his secret longer, but confessed that he was the author. Thereupon the visitors to the office took more notice of him. In fact, they made so much of the boy that Brother James became jealous of " young Ben," who was really helping him so much. Perhaps he told the boy, in what- ever was the printing-office talk of those days, that he was " too fresh ; " for Franklin tells us himself that his brother James thought, " probably with reason, that this praise tended to make me too vain." The Cottrant went on growing more and more " saucy "' and outspoken and sensational with each new issue, until at last the authorities in Boston could stand it no longer. They came down hard upon James Franklin for the things he said and the fun he made of them in the Coiirant, and HO IV THE BOY-EDITOR HAD HIS TROUBLES. 37 finally sent him to jail for what they called " high affront to the government." When James Franklin was brought into court to be tried, young Ben was also arrested and carried into court. But when the officials questioned him, and tried to force him to tell the secrets of the newspaper and what went on in the office, the boy refused to answer. They could o-et nothing from him ; and he would have been sent to jail along with his brother, but it was decided, at last, that he was only an apprentice boy, and, as such, was bound to keep his master's secrets. So Ben was set free. When James Franklin was sent to prison, there was a great discussion among his friends just what to do about the Coiirant. But Ben said it must not stop, and those most interested told him to go ahead and edit the paper. He did so; and instead of being frightened by what had been done to his brother, he kept the Courant on in just the same w-ay, making one of the earliest fights for what is called "_tlie libejjt^_DL. the press " in America. Pretty plucky for a boy editor of sixteen, was it not? For, in those days, editors and printers who were too bold were sometimes sent to jail ; sometimes they had their ears clipped; sometimes they were whipped in the streets; some- times they were even put to death. A .week in jail was too much for Brother James. He soon begged off, said he was sorry, and wouldn't do so any more ; and, after a month's imprisonment, he was set free. '-'^S no IF THE BOY-EDITOR HAD HIS TROUBIES. But he did not keep his promises. The Courmit got no better. In fact, it grew worse. It kept on finding fault and poking fun, until, after standing it for about six months longer, the authorities came down once more upon the paper, and voted that James Franklin, printer and publisher, " be strictly forbidden by this court to print or publish the New England Conrant or any other pamphlet or paper of like nature, except it be first supervised by the Secretary of this Province." That looked as if it were the end of. the Courant. But it was not. The newspaper was too good a thing to give up. So Brother James decided to continue it, but not under his name; and the very next week it came out with the notice that it was "Printed and Published by Benjamin Franklin." So young Ben, the boy editor, got his name before the world very early in life. But Brother James played a mean trick on the boy. He told the world that Benjamin Franklin was no longer his apprentice. He cancelled — that is, gave back to his brother — his apprenticeship papers; but, secretly, he made the boy sign new ones that bound Ben to him as master until he should be twenty-one. So the Cottrant went on under the name of Benjamin Franklin as editor. But the brothers did not get on well. James Franklin was a hard master; and the lot of this boy editor, who was really no editor, was certainly not a happy one. HOW THE BOY-EDITOR HAD H/S TROUBLES. 39 He was an independent youth, accustomed to speak his mind ; and he chafed and fretted under his brother's tyranny, often talking back, and often having " regular rows." There were bitter w^ords between the brothers in the Courant office; TRACKING A RUNAWAY APPRENTICE IN BEN FRANKLIN'S DAY. there were many quarrels, and often blows from the elder brother, until at last Ben felt that he could not stand it any longer. He complained to his father. But Josiah Franklin, who usually took the boy's part, could not in this case; because, by the secret paper which Ben had signed, he had really 40 now THE BOY-EDITOR HAD HIS TROUBLES. bound himself to James for four years longer, and no one could interfere between master and apprentice. Finally Ben told James that he would not work for him any more. James told Ben he would have to. "I will not," said Ben; "there are other printers in Boston.'* "I'll fix them," said James. And he did. He went to every printer in town, and told them that his brother Ben was bound to him until he was twenty-one, and that they would get into trouble if they employed him. So, when Ben went about town looking- for a new job, he could not get one. There was no use talking, he said to himself. His brother would not release him; his father would not help him; he would not stand that life any longer; he would run away. Really, you see, this boy editor's troubles began early in life. When Benjamin Franklin made up his mind, he gen- erally acted at once. " Never put off till to-morrow what you can do to-day," was one of his maxims, you know. He did a good deal of thinking. His old desire to be a sailor had gone. Study and success had shown him that he was cut out for a printer, and a printer he would be. There were but three towns in all America large enough to support printers, — Boston, New York, and Philadelphia. In Boston he could not and w^ould not remain. He would go to New York. He knew he could not get his father's consent to leave. now THE BOY-EDITOR HAD HIS TROUBLES. 41 If he told folks where he was going, his brother could stop him or bring him back; for there was a law against run- away apprentices just as there was against runaway slaves. The newspapers of the day were full of advertisements of runaway apprentices; and rewards were offered for their return to their masters, just as if they really were slaves. "he was soon on blue water, bound for new YORK AND A LIVING." So Ben fixed things up quietly with one of his young friends. He sold some of his precious books to pay his passage. His friend smuggled him on board a sloop bound for New York, the captain of which promised to ask no questions; and on a certain October morning in the year 1723, Ben Franklin, aged seventeen, a runaway apprentice, bade a silent good-by to his boyhood home. 42 HOW THE BOY-EDITOR HAD HIS TROUBIES. and was soon on blue water, bound for New York and a living. In after years, looking back upon his life, he could see that he had not done what was right in thus break- ing his agreement with his brother and running away. But things look very differently to a man of seventy and a boy of seventeen. I'm afraid he did have what we call "provocation," although he himself tells us, after thinking it all over, that " perhaps I was too saucy and provoking." He had a safe passage to New York. It took much longer to get there from Boston than it does to-day ; but his sloop was only three days on the way — pretty fair time for a sailing-vessel. He landed in New York with very little money, and without an acquaintance or a friend. But he went to work at once hunting for a job, only to discover that there was no chance for him to get one. For at that time there was but one book-store and one printer in all New York. Most of the people read or spoke Dutch, and the chances for work for a printer who only knew English were pretty slim. That sounds queerly enough to us, does it not, when we think of all the printers and newspapers in Greater New York to-day. But won- derful changes have taken place in this land of ours since Benjamin Franklin was a boy; and for the most of them we may thank this same Benjamin Franklin, printer, and pv/ jiiii(nii((iiuiiibiilllll|i(P'liri("'^ BEN WISHES TO PAY FOR HIS PASSAGE, HOW THE BOY-ED J TOR HAD HIS TROUBLES. 45 those other noble men of his time, who worked with him to make America great. Mr. Bradford, the only printer in New York, could do " nothing for him." But he told the lad there was more of a chance in Philadelphia. He told him also whom to see there, if he went, and to say that William Bradford recommended him. I suppose he "sized" Ben up, and saw that he was a good deal of a boy. Ben had just about money enough to get to Philadel- phia, and at once he determined to try his luck in the Quaker town. It was, he thought, the only thing he could do. For, though he was a bit discouraged and just a trifle home- sick, he was bound not to give up and go back to Bos- ton. So he took passage on a leaky old boat that would get him as far as Amboy, from which place he believed he could walk to Philadelphia. He had a rough trip. The crazy old boat was very nearly wrecked in New York harbor. For thirty hours they swashed about without food or drink, and at last came to Amboy, wet, tired, hungry, and half sick. But Franklin pulled himself together, and next morn- ing manfully started out to tramp it across country to Philadelphia, fifty miles away. The rain poured down all day. He was drenched through; he was tired, foot-sore, and low-spirited; he was in danger of being arrested as a runaway; he had no real 46 I^OIV THE BOY-EDITOR HAD HIS TROUBLES. hope of getting any work at his trade when he did reach Philadelphia; and altogether it was a very forlorn, shabby, and homesick boy that trudged across New Jersey in the mud and rain. But he kept on, and finally reached Burlington, just above Philadelphia. There, by good luck, he "got a lift" on a river boat bound for Philadelphia, seventeen miles below. After a hard passage, in which he had to help the boatmen row their heavy old craft against wind and tide, he finally landed on Market-street Wharf in Philadelphia. It was a Sunday morning in October in the year 1723. He had but one silver dollar and about twenty cents in coppers. These coppers he insisted on giving the boat- men for his fare from Burlington, although they told him he had worked his passage. I should say he had ! Then he stepped out upon the wharf, dirty, bedraggled, hungry, sleepy, and seedy, — a tramping printer looking for a job. And thus it was that Benjamin Franklin came to Phila- delphia — the city that to-day honors^e.yereSj_devates, and remembers him as her greatest and noblest citizen. HOW HE LEARNED THE TRUTH OF AN OLD MAXLM. Al, CHAPTER III. HOW THE PRINTER LEARNED THE TRUTH OF *AN OLD PROVERB. THE first thing Ben Franklin did when he stepped ashore on the Market-street wharf in Philadelphia was to hunt around for something to eat ; for he was desperately hungry. Up the street he saw a baker's boy with a big basket of bread. At once he hailed him, and asked him for ten cents' worth of bread. The boy handed him out three big puffy rolls, some- thing entirely new to the Bos- ton boy, who was looking for Avhat he called " biscuits." Ben's pockets were so •stuffed out with other things that he did not know just what to do with the three loaves. He did know, however, that he felt hungry enough to eat all three. So he stuck ■THE BOY HANDED HIM OUT THREE BIG PUFFY ROLLS." 48 HOW HE LEARNED THE TRUTH OF AN OLD MAXIM. one under each arm, and taking big bites out of the third roll as he walked along, went sight-seeing through the Philadelphia streets. I suppose this hungry, munching boy was rather a comical sight for a Sunday morning in staid and sober Philadelphia. He himself tells us that he made " a most awkward, ridiculous appearance." Other people thought so, too. As he passed one of the houses on Market Street, a young girl of about his own age, who was standing in the doorway, looked curiously at this rather tattered, though good-looking young stranger, and wondered where under the sun he could have come from, and what he was doing, eating his breakfast thus in the open street. It was no wonder that she should look and laugh at this dilapidated young runaway. His coat pockets were bulging out with his extra baggage of shirts and stock- ings, his buckskin breeches were creased and soiled, his out-of-shape hat looked as if it had been slept in, and altogether he was rather a frowsy, seedy-appearing young man, while the two big rolls stuck under his arms added to his comical looks. Ben indeed felt himself, as I have told you, that he cut a pretty poor figure; for he was always a neat and presentable young fellow, who prided himself on always looking trim and smart. But any boy would be a rather seedy-looking object after eleven days of knocking about, with no chance for a HOW HE LEARNED THE TRUTH OE AN OLD MAXLM. 49 change of clothing. I know how it is myself. I tramped across country once with two other boys, when I was about fifteen, on a vacation-walk from New York to Bos- ton, almost without baggage, and I know what a shabby- looking trio we were when we got to Boston. But that girl in the doorway, whose name was Deborah Read, never forgot that travel-stained young stranger who passed her father's door, eating his breakfast, that famous Sunday morning ; for, years after, Deborah Read became Mrs. Benjamin Franklin. The boy wandered about the town, taking in every- thing as he walked, in his usual wide-awake way, and at last found himself again at the place where he had landed — on Market-street wharf. He still had his extra bread under his arm, for, although he was hungry, one of those big loaves was really a meal. So he took a drink of river water, gave his remaining loaves to a poor woman who had a little boy with her, and who looked quite as friendless and just as hungry as himself. Feeling a little better after his breakfast, but still very sleepy, he walked up Market Street again, and following the crowd into a big "meeting-house" on the corner of Second and Market Streets, he sat down in a pew and at once fell sound asleep. He slept all through the service, and then, going out, got into conversation with a friendly young Quaker, who told him wdiere he could find a cheap and comfortable 50 no IV HE LEARNED THE TRUTH OF AN OLD MAXLM. lodging at a tavern near Chestnut Street, called " The Crooked Billet." He went to the little tavern, and slept all day and all night, waking up just long enough to get his dinner and supper. The next morning, being Monday, he felt rested at last, and after breakfast went out to hunt for work. At the first printing-office he went to, whom should he meet but the good Mr. Bradford he had seen in New York. He had come on to Philadelphia unexpectedly; and when he saw the young printer, he went with him to the shop of a printer named Keimer, and recommended the boy as an excellent workman. And so, on his very first day in Philadelphia, Franklin found a good job. Mr. Keimer, his new employer, was a curious old fel- low; but took kindly to his new journeyman, and hunted up a boarding-place for him, which, as luck would have it, happened to be the house of the very Mr. Read whose daughter had seen and smiled at the tramping young printer, as he walked up Market Street eating his open- air breakfast on his first morning in Philadelphia. His troubles for a time were over, as he had steady work and good wages with Mr. Keimer. He had a pleas- ant boarding-place. He made friends speedily, as such a bright, cheery young fellow is apt to do. He kept on reading and studying just as he had in Boston. But he could not keep from thinking very often of the home he had left in Boston, and wondering how they "A YOUNG GIRL OF ABOUT HIS OWN AGE WAS STANDING IN THE DOORWAY." HOW HE LEARNED THE TRUTH OF AN OLD MAXIM. 53 all were there; although he did not let his people know where he was, because he was afraid that if they did, he might be arrested, and sent back to Boston as a runaway apprentice. At length, however, he did hear from home. His brother-in-law was captain of a sloop that ran between Boston and Newcastle on the Delaware, some forty miles below Philadelphia. Somehow or other Captain Holmes, for that was his brother-in-law's name, learned that Ben was in Philadelphia. He wrote to the boy at once, telling him how badly his father and mother felt because Ben had run away, and how they had worried about him. He told him, too, that, if he would go back to Boston and his brother's employ, all would be forgiven." But although he would gladly have seen his ''folks" once more, Ben had no idea of going back. So he wrote a reply to Captain Holmes, explaining just why he had run away, and all about his brother's harsh treatment. He said, too, that he was much better off where he was, and as he had now got a footing in the world, he meant to stay in his new home. Philadelphia was the place for a young man to get ahead, he said. When Captain Holmes read Ben's letter he understood things better, and believed that the boy was right. He decided that Ben had been harshly treated by Brother James, and that, after all, he was not such a bad boy as people in Boston imagined. 54 no IV HE LEARNED THE TRUTH OF AN OLD MAXLM. Now it happened that, when Captain Holmes received young Ben Franklin's letter, he was in the company of no less a person than Sir William Keith, the Governor of Pennsylvania. In those days, when the American colonies were sub- ject to the British Crown, the King of England used to appoint men to have charge of the several colonies, each one being called a governor — although very few of them amounted to much in the way of being able to govern. So Sir William Keith was Governor of Pennsylvania. He had been appointed, with the king's consent, by the sons of William Penn, who owned the charter of this province, — Proprietories, they were called. Of course that made Governor Keith quite a great man in the eyes of the people, even if he was not a good man; and young Ben's letter was such an excellent one, and so well written, that Captain Holmes showed it to the gov- ernor, asking him if he did not think his brother-in-law a ''likely young fellow." Ben could write very well, you know ; and the gov- ernor was so taken by the way in which the letter was WTitten, and by what Captain Holmes said of the young man, that he said he would like to see young Frank- lin and have a talk with him. "Perhaps," he said, "I can do something for him. There isn't a decent printer in Philadelphia. I'd like to set up a bright and promising young fellow like him in business." BO IV HE LEARNED THE TRUTH OE AN OLD MAXLM. 55 So one day, as Ben was setting type in Keimer's print- ing-office, who should call upon him, and set the whole office to staring, but the Gov^ernor of Pennsylvania him- self. Queer Mr. Keimer supposed of course that the gov- ernor wished to see him ; but no, Sir William said he wished to see '' young Mr. Franklin." Then the govern- or, in his velvets and ruffles, took "young Mr. Franklin" off to the tavern with him. And there, after tell- inof Ben of the fjood report he had heard from Captain Holmes, the governor said that such a bright young fellow ought to be able to do well if he could only get a good footing ; and he finally proposed to Ben that, if his father would help start him in business in Philadelphia, he, Sir William Keith, would see that he had all the gov- ernment printing, and much more besides. He made such promises and so flattered the young man that Ben felt sure his fortune was as good as made. The governor invited him to call, had him often to dine. YOUNG MR. FRANKLIN " AND THE GOVERNOR. 56 BOW HE LEARNED THE TRUTH OF AN OLD MAXLM. and got him so filled with the idea of starting for him- self in Philadelphia, that finally Franklin did go back to Boston to see his father, and try and get his help. It was in the month of April, 1724, that Ben Frank- lin sailed home to Boston. His return was quite different from his going. Then he had sneaked away by stealth, a runaway apprentice ; now he went sailing back, with money in his pocket, his passage paid, good clothes on his back, and a letter of praise and promises to his father from a real live governor. It reads almost like a fairy- story, doesn't it? The young man felt that it was almost like a fairy-story too. He felt like a prince coming back; and quite like a prince did he conduct himself. Every one welcomed him back except Brother James; and when young Ben strolled into the printing-office with quite a lordly air, telling big stories of Philadelphia, show- ing off his fine new watch, displaying his money, patroniz- ing the apprentice boys, and "treating" the journeymen, his brother scowled at him, and was sulky and silent. When Mrs. Franklin tried to bring the brothers to- gether, and have them "make it up," James flatly refused. He complained to his mother that Ben had been impu- dent, that he had "shown off" in the printing-office, and insulted him, James Franklin, before all his people. Josiah Franklin, Ben's wise father, read the governor's letter. Then he talked it all over with Captain Holmes, who also was back in Boston. But Josiah Franklin evi- now HE LEARNED THE TRUTH OF AN OLD MAXLM. SI dently did not take to Ben's plan. The governor, he said, must be a person of very little judgment to talk of set- ting up a boy of eighteen in business. '' Why, it was ab- surd," he said. So, while he was glad that Ben was do- ing so well, and had made such good and influential friends, he told him he was flatly opposed to his thinking: of starting: in business before he was tw^enty-one. "You just work and save until that time, Ben," he said, "and then, if I can help you a little, I will do so ; but this scheme of the governor's is wild, and I do not like it." So Ben had to go back without the money he needed. To tell the truth, he hardly expected his father would do what he desired, though he did think that, with a gov- ernor to back him, his father might have felt inclined to WHERE FRANKLIN LEARNED HIS TRADE. {TJw corner of Cojirt Street and FrattkUu Avenue, in Boston.) 58 HOW HE LEARNED THE TRUTH OF AN OLD MAXLM. help. But he had great faith in Sir William Keith, and thought that the governor would be able to fix things somehow^ And sure enough, when he had returned to Philadel- phia, after bidding good-by to all his Boston friends, and bringing away the good wishes and kind words of every one except sulky Brother James, the governor said he would see him through. "Your father is too prudent," he said, after he had read the thankful but decisive letter of refusal which Josiah Franklin had sent him by Ben. " It's good all men are not so cautious. There never would be anything done. Such a likely young fellow as you, Franklin," he continued, " ought to be helped to a good start in life, and if your father won't do it, why I will. You just figure up and find how much money you need to start a good printing- office here, and then come to me." So, highly elated over his great good fortune, Ben figured up how much was needed, and told the governor that, with about five hundred dollars, he could start a fine office. " Five hundred dollars, eh ? " said Governor Keith. " That's not so much. Suppose, now, you should go across to London to stock up. Couldn't you get a better outfit there, for the money, than you could here ? " Ben told him he certainly could. "Then, too," continued the governor, "you could make HO IP' HE LEARNED THE TRUTH OF AN OLD MAXLM. 59 acquaintances there, and form connections with booksellers to do business for them here. Yes, that is a good plan. I think you had better go. So get yourself ready, Frank- lin, to go over with Captain Annis. I'll give you letters of introduction and credit that will help you through, and we'll show your father, and Philadelphia too, what a fine business we can do." Here was a great chance, thought Ben. He could not thank the governor enough. " What a lucky fellow I am," he said to himself, " to have so great a man as Governor Sir William Keith as a friend." And at once he made ready to sail for London, feel- ing himself a rich man already. So when, a few months later, the ship London-Hope, Captain Annis, master, set sail from Philadelphia for Lon- don, Ben Franklin w^ent on boards well fitted out, and full of great expectations. To be sure the governor had not given him the letters he promised ; but the governor's secretary saw him off, and said the letters would come on board with the mail- packet. Ben felt very happy. He \\as going to England ; he would see London — the splendid city he had so longed to visit, full of books and great people. He w^as going with a governor's backing and introduction. He was en- gaged to Deborah Read, whom he was to marry when he 6o HOW HE LEARNED THE TRUTH OF AN OLD ALAXLM. got back, and everything was delightful. I don't wonder the young man felt happy, do you ? He was well received on board the vessel as a friend of the governor ; he made many pleasant acquaintances, and some good and en- during friendships; and so he sailed over the sea, proud and confident and cheer- ful. But alas ! pride, as you know, often goes before a fall ; and poor Ben Frank- lin's fall was sudden and heavy. For, when he got to London, he had a terrible disappoint- ment. There were no letters of recommendation, introduction, or credit for him to deliver from Governor Keith. The only ones he found bearing his name were simply sent in his care, and were from a man who had no credit and no influence in London. He found, too, that the governor, for all his WILLIAM i I.N.N. {The yirst Proprietor o/ Pennsylvania.) HOW BE LEARNED THE TRUTH OF AN OLD MAXIM. 6 1 great name, had no friends there, and that his word was not worth anything as a help or a backing. For Sir William Keith was a broken bankrupt, who had been sent to Pennsylvania as governor simply to get him out of the way; and poor Ben, after a disheartening downfall, realized "poor ben had been bitterly fooled." that this unreliable man had only been fooling him with big promises — just why he never could understand. He had simply found out, in a hard and heartless way, the truth of the old Bible proverb : Put not your trust in princes. He had trusted one who, to him, was 62 HOW HE LEARNED THE TRUTH OF AN OLD MAXLM. as great as a prince — a governor. And the governor was only great in big words and glittering promises. Poor Ben had been bitterly fooled. But Benjamin Franklin was never one to sit down and fret. He never would despair. Just what to do he did not know; but he" did know he must do something. He could not go back to America until he had earned money enough to take him back. He must try to get a job, and get it soon. It was rough, wasn't it? But Ben had good health and plenty of pluck, and set out at once to find work. He found it very soon. He was a good workman, you know ; and he speedily got a good job in a London printing-office, where he hoped soon to earn enough to get him back to America again. But London was very fascinating to this young man from far-off America. He made good wages, but he spent them almost as fast as earned, or else others spent them for him. For the first time in his life he grew careless and went wrong. He fell into bad ways, *' sowed his wild oats," as the saying is, forgot his friends in America, for- got his '* dear Deborah," and spent months and months in London working steadily at his trade, to be sure, but having what he foolishly called '* a good time." Then, at last, he awoke to the knowledge that he was not doing right. He turned over a new leaf at once, worked hard, saved money, and finally engaged with one of the HOJV HE LEARNED THE TRUTH OF AN OLD MAXLM. 63 good friends he had made on the voyage across to go back with him to Philadelphia. This friend, whose name was Mr. Denham, liked young Franklin very much, and thought he was certain to be a successful man, if he were once set right. Mr. Denham had decided to open a general store in Philadelphia, and he asked Franklin to be his head clerk and bookkeeper. To this Franklin gladly consented. So, after living in London for nearly two years, Frank- lin sailed back to America. His own plans had all gone wrong. His dreams of a fine future for himself as the leading printer of Philadel- phia had not come true. He had fallen upon hard times, and only his pluck and knowledge of a trade had carried him through. But he had learned a lesson he never forgot. It was one that stood him well as a guide and a warning through all his busy life. He had learned when to trust and whom to trust. He knew that, as the farmers say, *' fine words butter no parsnips." He knew that all is not gold that glitters, and that a man to succeed must help himself, and not rely on others to help him. It takes some men a lifetime to learn all this, but Benjamin Franklin was fortunate enough to learn it early in life. And so, on the 21st of July, 1726, he took ship again for America, with a good stock of experience with which to start life over ao^ain. 64 BOW THE PRINTER BECAME A PHILOSOPHER. CHAPTER IV. HOW THE PRINTER BECAME A PHILOSOPHER. FRANKLIN came back to Philadelphia prepared to " clerk it " in what for him was a new kind of busi- ness. But he did not " clerk it " long^. Soon after the store was fairly stocked and started, Mr. Denham, the proprietor, fell sick and died. Franklin, also, was very sick at the same time. It was thought that he, too, would die; but he had youth and a strong constitution in his favor, and he pulled through. But he recovered his health only to find Mr. Denham's business closed, and he himself again out of work. It looks as if poor Ben had very hard luck about that time of his life, does it not? But it all turned out for the best. He had his trade to fall back on. He soon found work as a printer, and a printer he remained all through his business life, or until he gave his time and strength to the service of his countrymen and the good of mankind. His life as an active printer in Philadelphia lasted through twenty busy years. He worked as a journeyman ; then he went into business for himself, taking a fellow- printer as his partner. He lived carefully, saved money, HOW THE PRINTER BECAME A PHILOSOPHER, 65 prospered, and, at last, became quite wealthy, for those days. He was twenty-two when he set up the firm of Frank- lin & Meredith, on Market Street in Philadelphia. Finally he bought out his partner, and the sign " B. Franklin, Printer," was for years one of the best known in the town.' That name stood for good work, honest work, reliable work; for Franklin had learned that in business, as in everything else, " honesty is the best policy." "There are no gains without pains," said Franklin. ^' He that hath a trade hath an estate, and he that hath a calling hath an office of profit and honor; only," he added, " the trade must be worked at, and the calling' well followed, or neither the estate nor the office will enable us to pay our taxes." On this plan he worked at his business, and whenever he saw a chance to add to it profitably he did so. He started a newspaper; he opened a book and stationery store; he published a magazine; and, regularly, for twenty- five years, he made and printed an almanac that did more to educate his countrymen to habits of industry, econ- omy, independence, and manhood than anything else in America. It was called ''Poor Richard's Almanac," and it is acknowledged to have been one of the causes and stepping-stones toward the Declaration of Independence and the freedom of America. On the I St of September, 1730, he married Deborah 66 HOW THE PRINTER BECAME A PHILOSOPHER, Read, the girl who had seen him walking the streets the first morning he was in Philadelphia. For forty-four years they lived together as husband and wife, helping one an- other along the road to success and riches, and setting the world an example of real home-making and home-happiness. "HE MARRIED DEBORAH READ." During the twenty years of his active business life, Franklin, as I have told you, went into anything connected with his line of business that promised success. He carried on a general printing business ; he was edi- HOW THE PRINTER BECAME A PHILOSOPHER. 67 tor, compositor, proof-reader, author, bookseller and sta- tioner, bookbinder and publisher. He made lamp-black. He made ink. He made paper. He bought and sold the rags of which paper was made. He was a feather mer- chant; and he was, even what he had hated as a boy, a soap-maker. Now and then, if he saw a good chance, he went outside of his regular business, dealing in groceries, hardware, and household goods. His wife, Deborah, was, as I have told you,* his best and busiest helper. She "tended store" for him; she bought the rags for his paper-mill ; she stitched pamphlets in his bindery; she folded newspapers in his printing-office, and kept his home neat, orderly, and homelike. "We throve together," Franklin wrote in after years, " and ever endeavored to make each other happy. We kept no idle servants; our table was plain and simple, our furniture was of the cheapest, and I ate my breakfast of bread and milk out of a twopenny earthen porringer, with a pewter spoon." It was no wonder they saved money, got ahead in the world, and at length became rich and comfortable. They were never mean nor small ; they were simply saving, in- dustrious, and clever. Franklin wore his leather apron in shop and store ; he wheeled home the goods he bought, made his own lamp- black, mixed his own ink, and where other printers tried and failed, he tried and succeeded. 68 HOW THE PRINTER BECAME A PHILOSOPHER. He was the first man in America to understand how to advertise. He advertised himself, and finally, because of his success, led others to advertise, and thus made his newspaper pay. Benjamin Franklin was one of the few men who practised what he preached. His advice to other men was — these are his own words : ** Employ thy time well, if thou meanest to gain leisure ; and since thou art not sure of a minute, throw not away an hour." That was good advice, was it not? Franklin acted on that principle himself, and the result was that after twenty years of hard work he was able to enjoy the leisure he desired for his own enjoyment and the welfare of others. He simply practised what he preached. It is not an easy thing to do, boys and girls ; but when a man or woman really does this, he or she is certain to get ahead in life, just as Franklin did. No one could ever get him to do a mean thing in business, or take an undue advantage of any one, even if he saw that by so doing he could gain trade or make money for himself. When people wished him to publish in his newspaper anything unjust, or mean, or personal about others, Frank- lin would tell them he would not do it. " It might make a sensation, and set people to talking or to buying my paper," he declared, "but it is malicious and hurtful. I'll print it for you," he said, "or anything you can pay for; but you must send it out over your own name, and dis- I SOMETIMES BROUGHT HOME THE PAPER . . . THROUGH THE STREET ON A WHEELBARROW. HOW THE PRINTER BECAME A PHILOSOPHER. 7 1 tribute it yourself. I will not help you to be unjust and unfair. My newspaper is to give the news and to tell the truth, not to run down other people or make them uncomfortable." That was quite a change from the old days of the New England Conrant, in which he had been taught to " pitch into " other people, was it not ? It would be a good thing for some of the newspapers of to-day to follow. When one of his rivals in the newspaper business did a small thing toward Franklin by trying to keep his paper out of the market, Franklin was disgusted. '' I thought so meanly of the practice," he says, "that when I after- wards came into his situation " (and was able to do the same thing, he means), " I took care never to imitate it." That was being a gentleman; and Benjamin Franklin, even when he wore his leather apron, made lamp-black, and mixed his own ink, was always a true gentleman. He knew what was right and just, and he did that, and only that. So you see he got ahead in the world steadily and surely. He made influential friends and kept them. People liked to deal with him ; for they knew they could rely on what he said, and that what he promised, that he would perform. His business increased; he stood at the head of his trade in Philadelphia; he was the lead- ing newspaper publisher in America; he grew influential, prominent, and rich; and, after twenty years of hard work, 72 flOJV THE FIUXTER BECAME A PHILOSOPHER. found himself making almost ten thousand dollars a year, and able, at last, to retire from active business, and give his time and attention to other matters, in which he had "he was the leading newspaper publisher in AMERICA." gradually been getting interested. That is a record that any business man would be proud of. Ten thousand dol- lars a year was a good deal of money in those days, and HO IV THE PRINTER BECAME A PHILOSOPHER. 73 all men looked up to Franklin as a great success in busi- ness as well as in manhood. But money does not make the man, and money was not what Franklin thought the most of. " A wise man," he said, " will desire no more than what he may get justly, use soberly, distribute cheerfully, and leave con- tentedly." He worked hard for his money in order that he might make the best use of it, and he did. There are three kinds of boys and girls in the world, — and of men and women too, — those who think only of themselves, those who think of nothing, and those who think of others as well as of themselves. If you know which kind of a boy you like best, you can tell pretty well about the kind of man too. Franklin was one of the best kind, as boy and as man. There was no one who had less time to spare from his busi- ness than he ; and yet he made time to do good. So he was always busy thinking up some wise or use- ful or helpful thing — something that would help men and women either to live or to do. Whenever he made money enough to have a little to spare, he would help one of his journeymen into busi- ness on his own account. And he was so good at study- ing men that he rarely lost money by helping them. "Leisure," he said, "is the time for doing something useful; this leisure the diligent man will attain, but the lazy man never." 74 NOJV THE PRINTER BECAME A PHILOSOPHER. This was one of Franklin's ''preachings;" and, practis- ing it, he always employed his moments of leisure by doing something useful. He was always, even from a boy, you know, a thought- ful fellow. From the day when he paid too dear for his whistle — you remember the story — he began to think things out for himself. Every trouble he faced set him to turning even his worries into teachers, from whom he learned of prudence, patience, and endeavor. Like that fine old Roman emperor, who was so much better than his people, Marcus Aurelius, he made of every obstacle in his road a help along the road, and, like Marcus Aure- lius again, he became, as he studied into the whys and w^herefores of things, a man who thought to good pur- pose, — in other words, what the world calls a philosopher. He tried to make himself better, while yet a young man, by watching himself; and to do this systematically, he kept a little book, in which he made a table of a dozen or more good qualities, such as temperance, order, industry, sincerity, cleanliness, humility, etc. Every day he would go over this list, just like a book- keeper in a store, and put a check against such of the " virtues " as he had not followed out. Day by day, week by week, he would follow this up, keeping the black marks always before him, until by the end of the year they grew less and less, and he had his conduct under fair control. How is that, boys and girls? Do you think HOW THE PRINTER BECAME A PHILOSOPHER. 75 you could keep such an account with yourselves, and cure yourselves of bad habits by putting them down in black and white until you had figured them down to nothing? Just try it once and see. From giving advice to himself he fell to giving advice to others, not in an objectionable manner, but in a friendly, practical way, in which he would try results with his companions. Even when he was " sowing his wild oats " in Lon- don he would sandwich some good between his careless acts. He showed his fellow-workmen how they could save money and improve their health by stopping their beer- drinking; and he kept himself poor by helping a heedless comrade-printer, who had come to London with Franklin because he loved him. When he was really in business on his own hook, one of his earliest business ventures was putting good advice to good use by bringing out each year the little pam- phlet known as '' Poor Richard's Almanac." Besides the monthly calendar that all almanacs have, and a lot of comic rhymes and take-offs, he had recipes and cures, and, sprinkled in between, some of the wise thoughts and helpful sayings that set people to thinking, and which they always remembered. You know many of them by heart yourself. Perhaps you have said them, never thinking who wrote them or why they were written. 76 HOW THE PRINTER BECAME A PHILOSOPHER. " Early to bed and early to rise Makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise." That is one of them. You know it, do you not? and you know very well what it means. A N • I ! Almanack the Year of Chrift I 7 3 9. ..una' ions. II L O TITLE-PAGE AND SPECIMEN PAGE FROM "POOR RICHARD'S ALMANAC." " God helps those that help themselves " was another f his sayings ; and here I add a number, any one of HOJV THE PRINTER BECAME A PHILOSOPHER. nn which you can easily understand, and all of which are full of wisdom, wit, and helpfulness. Read these : " Well done is better than well said." " Each year some vicious habit rooted out In time might make the worst man good throughout." *' When befriended, remember it ; When you befriend, forget it." " Have you somewhat to do to-morrow ? do it to-day." " Quarrels never could last long, If on one side only lay the wrong." "Make haste slowly." "The things which hurt, instruct." " A slip of the foot you may soon recover. But a slip of the tongue you may never get over." "When you're good to others you are best to yourself." "If your riches are yours, why don't you take them to the other world?" " 'Tis more noble to forgive and more manly to despise than to revenge an injury." "It is not leisure that is not used." " Haste makes waste." " Virtue and a trade are a child's best portion." "The cat in gloves catches no mice." " For age and want, save while you may ; No morning sun lasts a whole day." "Speak little, do much." "There never was a good knife made of bad steel." " Being ignorant is not so much a shame as being unwilling to learn." " Plough deep while sluggards sleep, And you shall have corn to sell and to keep." " One To-day is worth two To-morrows." You would be surprised to know how much these sim- ple, homely sayings helped people. For twenty-five years 78 HOW THE PRINTER BECAME A PHILOSOPHER. Franklin published •' Poor Richard's Almanac." Thousands of copies were sold ; and, in those days of few books, there were many humble homes in which only two books were owned, — the Bible and " Poor Richard's Almanac." But Franklin did more than write wise things; he did them. Almost the first thing he did when he got to work again in Philadelphia, after his hard times in London, was to start among his fellow-workmen and companions a society for mutual improvement. He called it the Junto. It was little more than a boys' club at first ; but it kept alive for more than forty years, and was of real and last- ing benefit to its members, to the town, the province, and America. It began, as I have told you, as a sort of mutual im- provement society; that is, these young fellows met every Friday night, and tried to say or to do something that should be of benefit to their fellow-members. They would talk over all the things that were happening about them, and see what good might be gained, or how things might be improved. They had a list of questions which each member of the club had to answer in one way or another. Some of these questions will give you an idea of what was done in Franklin's boys' club: " Do you know of a fellow-citizen who has lately done a worthy action, deserv- ing praise or imitation ; or who has lately committed an error proper for us to be warned against and avoid ? HOJV THE PRINTER BECAME A PHILOSOPHER. 79 " What new story have you heard agreeable for telling in conversation ? " Have you or any of your acquaintances been lately sick or wounded ? If so, what remedies were used, and what were their effects ? " Do you think of anything at present in which the Junto may be serviceable to mankind, to their country, to their friends, or to themselves ? " Do you know of any deserving young beginner, lately set up, whom it lies in the power of the Junto in any way to encourage ? " Have you lately observed any encroachment on the just liberties of the people ? " Is there any man whose friendship you want, and which the Junto, or any of them, can procure ? " What benefits have you lately received from any man not present ? " Is there any difficulty in matters of opinion, of justice and injustice, which you would gladly have discussed at this time ? " There were other questions besides these, but you can see from these I have copied down what the idea of the club was. Every boy had to do something — tell a story, sing a song, speak a piece, read an essay; while in the summer they w^ould have swimming or wrestling or jump- ing matches "across the river," and once a year they would have a dinner. For a long time there were only a dozen members. They would admit no more ; and, as the most of them worked at their trades, folks sometimes called the Junto the ** Leather-Apron Club." At their meetings, too, they would have discussions and debates on all sorts of ques- tions: "Which is best, to make a friend of a wise and good man that is poor, or of a rich man that is neither wise nor good?" "Whence comes the dew that stands on the outside of a tankard that has cold water in it, in the 8o now THE FJ^TNTER BECAME A PHILOSOPHER. summer time?" "Can a man arrive at perfection in life?" " Can any particular form of government suit all man- kind ? " "How shall we judge of the goodness of a writ- ing?" "Does it not require as much pains, study, and application to become truly wise and strictly virtuous as to become rich ? " You see they had plenty of important questions to occupy their times of meeting. Franklin took great pleasure in this club for many years, and he found that the other members enjoyed it so much that he proposed that each member of the Junto should start another club to which no other member of the Junto could belong. So out of this boys' club grew a number of others, to their own and other people's benefit. Out of the Junto, too, as Franklin suggested, grew another great movement. There were so many questions to be discussed and answered which required reading and study, that he suggested a subscription library, so that members and their friends could have the use of books. After much hard work and the raising of some money — which was also hard — about two hundred dollars was obtained, and the books desired were ordered from London. This was in March, 1732, and was the foundation of a library which has grown and grown until to-day it is the great Philadelphia Library. The Pennsylvmiia Gazette, which was the name of Franklin's paper, was the most wide-awake and "newsy" newspaper in all America. Through its columns, too, HOJF THE PRINTER BECAME A PHILOSOPHER. 8i ^ Franklin proposed and started many things that were of great benefit to his town and colony. He wTote the news, wrote the editorials, wrote the jokes, wrote everything, except what came from outside contributors. He would start all sorts of discussions. One week he THE PHILADELPHIA LIBRARY OF TO-DAY. {Tlie Outgrowth of Franklin'' s Work in t fie Junto.) would write a letter " to Mr. Franklin," as if it came from some one else, asking some question, or proposing some plan ; and the next week he would answer it himself, as editor. This would set other folks to thinking or writing; 82 HO IV THE PRINTER BECAME A PHILOSOPHER. and, in that manner, very often some bad way would be bettered, some good reform started, or some excellent im- provement begun. In this way the Gazette was built up to success, and Philadelphia was benefited. It was Franklin who, through his newspaper, improved the city watch — the old form of the police department; he started the first fire company in the town, had the streets lighted, the pavements swept, the militia organized, and the fire department established. So you see, from small beginnings, but wath pluck and brains and plenty of hard work, the candle-maker's son grew to be a person of value and help to the community in which he lived. While working for himself he worked for others also ; and while, by saving and shrewdness, he put money into his own pocket, he put good thoughts, noble suggestions, and wise plans for improvement, into the heads and hearts of those about him. This was being a philosopher to some purpose, w^as it not? For, as people saw this very young printer making a success of his life, they saw, too, that he was doing other people good, and came gradually to look up to him as to a leader, guide, and friend. And so, at the early age of forty-two, Benjamin Frank- lin was able to retire from business, and devote his time to wise and worthy objects. BOJV HE SAVED THE COUNTRY FOR THE FIRST TIME. 83 CHAPTER V. HOW HE SAVED THE COUNTRY FOR THE FIRST TIME. HEN you boys join together in any sport or work or great discussion, there is always one boy, is there not, whom you look upon as the moving spirit — the chief or leader of ''the crowd"? He is generally that because he thinks out things the best or the soonest, plans the most satisfactorily, and is willing to lead. If he fails or doesn't "come up to the mark," you soon desert him for one better suited to lead. It is so with men. One who is willing, without seek- ing, or who shows that he is able to do things without too persistently putting himself forward, will soon find that he is selected for labors or duties which need to be done, and which grow more important as he is able to stand the test, or as he shows himself inventive in plans and wise leadership. Franklin was just such a man. He was just such a boy too. Don't you remember how, when he was a boy in Boston, he was always foremost in plans for fun, and sometimes in pranks too, that called for a captain to lead? He proposed building that wharf in the minnow marsh; 84 HOW HE SAVED THE COUNTRY FOR THE FIRST TIME. you know, and he led all the " stumps " in swimming and boating and playing. He was head of the spelling-class; he took the lead among the apprentices at the printing- offices ; he, by his ingenuity in new plans, helped to save his brother's newspaper from dulness and failure. He kept on in just this way all his life. People found out that he could do things, and they asked him to do them. But it was his mind quite as much as his ability and his willingness that led ; and these combined, brought him forward in direction and leadership. Even while he was a tireless, hard-working man of business in Philadelphia, his townsmen began to refer to him and to ask his advice and help in their home affairs. His shop became the place for meetings and discussions; his newspaper gave these ideas to the public; and, when the time for action came, it was Franklin who proposed or advocated sensible plans for the improvement or pro- tection of the community, or was asked by his townsmen to undertake the work that must be done. In the year 1736, when Franklin Avas just thirty years old, he had his first public office. It was not much. It was simply clerk or secretary to the general assembly of the colony of Pennsylvania — what we call the legislature — then composed of about forty members. It did not give him so very much to do or bring him in much salary; but it did give him a certain position in the community, and he did so well that he w^as re-elected. JIOW HE SAVED THE COUNTRY FOR THE FIRST TIME. 85 About the same time he was elected a trustee of the public school or ''academy" that had been opened in Phil- adelphia at his suggestion ; the governor of the province appointed him a justice of the peace; the city of Phila- delphia selected him first for the common council, and then made him an alderman ; and, soon after, he was elected a burgess — that is, a member of the colonial legislature, known, as \ have told you, as the General Assembly, and to this he was re-elected ten times. All these honors came to him unsought, or, as he tells us, " without my even asking any elector for his vote, or signifying, either directly or indirectly, any desire of being chosen." That was pretty good, was it not? It was good for those who so honored him too. While he was clerk of the Assembly, in 1737, he was made assistant-postmaster of Philadelphia, and was the first one to suggest better postal arrangements for Amer- ica. In 1738 he was named as one of two commissioners to visit and treat with the Indians of the Ohio country, — and there were plenty of them there in those days. He served as postmaster of Philadelphia for sixteen years ; and when, in 1753, the postmaster-general for the colonies died, the authorities in England appointed Benjamin Franklin of Philadelphia as postmaster-general of the American colonies. That was getting ahead pretty well for the candle-maker's son, — don't you think so? Indeed, he did so well whatever was given him to do S6 HOW HE SAVED THE COUNTRY FOR THE FIRST TIME. that by this time — about 1753 — he was well known, both in England and America, and considered as one of MONUMENT TO FRANKLINS PARENTS. (/« the Old Granary Buryhig Ground, Boston. Erected in 1829, by the Citizens of Boston, on the site 0/ one put there by Franklin on one of his visits to his boyhood'' s home.) the wisest and most reliable men in " his Majesty's colo- nies in America." As postmaster-general he was kept busy. He had to HOW HE SAVED THE COUNTRY FOR THE FIRST TIME. 87 travel to all the principal points on the Atlantic border looking after post-office matters ; and he did his work in such a business-like way that, for the first time in the his- tory of America, he made the post-office pay. In this duty of looking after post-office affairs he vis- ited Boston, the home of his boyhood. He went there with authority and dignity; and you can well imagine that Benjamin Franklin, postmaster-general of the colonies, was quite a different character in Boston from Benjamin Frank- lin, the runaway apprentice of 1723. Thirty years had made a great man of that poor, ill-treated boy. He had been home twice before. In fact, he made a practice of going back to Boston once every ten years. He dearly loved the old town to the day of his death. When he was eighty-two years old he spoke of it with affection as " that beloved place ; " and he was always writ- ing to his brothers and sisters there, especially to his favorite younger sister Jane, who outlived him. In the Old Granary Burying Ground, as I have told you, on one of these visits he placed a memorial above the grave of his honored parents. And you may also be glad to know that on one such visit to Boston he " made up" with sulky Brother James, who was sick and unsuc- cessful. He took James's ten-year-old boy back to Phila- delphia, sent him to school, taught him a trade, and finally set him up in business as a printer at Newport, in Rhode Island. I imagine Brother James thought, after all, that 88 HO IV HE SAVED THE COUNTRY EOR THE FIRST TIME. it was a good thing that his apprentice did run away and strike out for himself. The British colonies in North America in those days needed men of brains and will to help them over the rough places. They were having hard times. Their masters, the king and parliament of England, were using the colonists as something to make money from, and not as brother Englishmen who needed help, protection, and kindness. In fact, the American colonies had to protect them- selves; and when, because of the "rows" between England, France, and Spain, who were struggling for supremacy in Europe and the ownership of America, it looked as though war was to come, some one in each of the colonies was needed who could look out for America's interests, safety, — almost for her very existence. In the colony of Pennsylvania this man for the times was, of course, Benjamin Franklin. Pennsylvania, you know, was different from the other colonies. It belonged to the Penn family, by gift of the king of England; and the king only was a " bigger man " than the Penns. The Penn family sent over the governor, and had a certain part of the revenues of the colony; but the people, by their General Assembly, governed the colony, in connection with the governor. So, you see, when trouble came, only the king or the Penn family could send help. But they did not; and Franklin said to the people, "If our governor cannot protect us we must protect ourselves" — for, you HOW HE SAVED THE COUNTRY FOR THE FIRST TIME. 89 know, it was one of bis mottoes that *' God helps those who help themselves." But Pennsylvania was a Quaker colony, and one of the chief points in the Quaker belief was peace with all men. "You must not strike back," they said. "War is wrong; so it is wicked to engage in war or fighting, and it is very bad to be a soldier." This is all very well to a certain extent. But self-pro- tection is not only man's duty, it is a necessity if the state is to be saved and made strong, and its men and women hope to live in real peace and prosperity. None knew this better than Franklin. So, when he saw the danger, and what might happen if the colony were left unprotected, he wrote and pleaded and planned and worked until at last he got enough men, who were not Quakers, to think as he did, and to back him up. He found that he could not get help from the king, neither could he get the Quaker assembly to vote money for the defence of the colony. So he called upon the peo- ple to help; and, after a public meeting in which he roused the citizens to action, he sent around subscription papers, asking for volunteers to serve as soldiers, and for money to build a fort and start a militia. He succeeded. The colonists, thanks to Franklin's energy, responded nobly. Ten thousand names went on the subscription paper; twelv^e hundred men enlisted as militia to act as a home-guard. 90 HOW HE SAVED THE COUNTRY FOR THE FIRST TIME. When the Philadelphia regiment was formed, Franklin was elected colonel. But he said he was not a military man ; he was, he declared, " unfit " for the position. So another man was made colonel. But Franklin joined the regiment. More money was raised. A log fort was built for the protection of the town ; and then Franklin travelled to New York to beg or borrow guns from Clinton, the gov- ernor of the neighboring colony. He did just as well there. For when Governor Clinton said, at first, that he would not lend the Philadelphians a single cannon, Franklin talked and coaxed and joked until at last the governor said, "Well, take six." Franklin kept at him; "You can have ten," said the governor. Still Franklin worked, and, at last, made so good a friend of the governor of New York that he went back to Phila- delphia with eighteen fine large cannons and the gun carriages on which to mount them. The guns were placed in position on the new fort ; the home-guard did regular drill and guard duty, night and day, until the danger was over, and the man who had brought it all about and saved the colony from attack and the whole country from invasion, who had himself de- clined the part of colonel, did duty with the other soldiers, and served as a private soldier, standing guard when his time came just as the humblest militia-man did. His energetic action, of course, greatly pleased the gov- HOJV BE SAVED THE COUNTRY EOR THE FIRST TIME. 9 1 ernor, who had seen the danger, but could do nothing to prevent it. He sought Franklin's advice more and more, and looked to him for help in many ways. Thus Frank- YOU CAN HAVE TEN,'' SAID THE GOVERNOR OF NEW YORK. lin had his revenge, in a way, you see ; for one governor of Pennsylvania had played him a mean trick when he was a poor young printer. Now this same Franklin had 02 HOW HE SAVED THE COUNTRY FOR THE FIRST TIME. become the trusted advisor of another governor of Penn- sylvania, and, instead of deceiving, had helped him. The trouble between France and England grew worse and worse. It was necessary that the Indian tribes who were friendly to the British and the colonists should be kept friendly. The British authorities requested these American colonies to select men called commissioners, two from each colony, and send them to Albany to meet and talk with the Indians on the Canadian border. These Indians were a powerful and warlike confederacy, and were known as the Six Nations. You can read about them in Cooper's splendid story, " The Last of the Mohicans." Upon them England relied for the protection of the Canadian border. For Canada, you know, in those days belonged to France. Franklin was appointed one of the commissioners from Pennsylvania. He went to Albany, and the Six Nations were prevailed upon to remain friendly to England. But, as Franklin travelled towards Albany, the idea struck him that, as he was going to meet representatives from the other colonies, it would be a fine idea to bring about even more than this Indian treaty. "Why not get all the colonies to unite in a plan for mutual protection?" he thought; "why not form a union under one colonial government and one council or assem- bly made up of representatives from all colonies ? This would make us strong; it would enable us to help our- FRANKLIN STANDING GUARD AS A PRIVATE SOLDIER. HOJr HE SAVED THE COUXTRY FOR THE FIRST TIME. 95 selves ; it would be a great help for the colonies, and would give us protection, friendship, growth, and ad- vancement." To think, with Franklin, was, as you know, to act= As he travelled, he wrote down just the plan of union and government he would like to see. He brought it before the Colonial Congress of Commissioners at Albany, and was proud enough when his plan was unanimously ac- cepted and adopted. But when the matter was referred to England, as evervthin^r in the colonies had to be referred, the kinsf and his ministers "sat down on it," as vou sav, at once. " Why," they said, " it would never do to let the colo- nies unite. Some day they might get so strong that they would wish to govern themselves ; and that we will ne\'er allow." So Franklin's plan was not accepted. Another weak and unsatisfactory one was put in its place. But you know very well what came later. For Benjamin Franklin's plan of American union is now a part of the government under which we live, though the people of America and not the king of England rule as master; the president (just what Franklin suggested) is not appointed by the king of Eng- land, as Franklin proposed, but is elected bv the people ; and the council or assembly suggested by him is the Congress of the United States of America, the nation that grew out of Franklin's plan. 96 J/O]]' HE SAVED THE COUNTRY FOR THE FIRST TIME. The dispute between Fmnce and England grew at last into open conflict. There was war between the nations in Europe and in America. In this land it became what you study about in your history under the name of the French and Indian W^ar. It resulted in the defeat of France, in the conquest of Canada, in making all North America English, in sho\\- ing the colonies that, together, they could be a power; and it brought to the front those great and noble men whom to-day w^e call the Fathers of the Republic, chief among whom were George Washington and Benjamin Franklin. The war in America threatened the destruction of the colonies. The French and their Indian allies came down to the Ohio. The Pennsylvania border was in danger. Young George Washington, as you may read in the story of his life, w^as sent to stop their advance, and, as you know, in a fight with the French invaders at Great Meadows in Western Pennsylvania, opened the long war that was to do so much toward making the American colonies united. England sent more soldiers. She sent a brave gen- eral to command them. But though a brave general he was a foolish one. You know his name and the day of his defeat and death. It is in all our history books — General Braddock. There was trouble about supplies for the soldiers ; HOW HE SAVED THE COUNTRY TOR THE EIRST TIME. 97 there was trouble about transportation; there was trou- ble, too, because the Quaker assembly of Pennsylvania would not vote the money or supplies needed for the king's soldiers. General Braddock was very angry. He wished to talk things over with men in power in the colonies; for, he said, if I have come here to protect and defend them, they should be willino- to help. And so it came to pass that in ^P^il' 1755^ the governor of New York, the governor of Massachusetts, and Post- master-General Franklin rode south into Maryland to meet and talk with the Brit- ish oreneral. (V»^l^^ GENERAL BRADDOCK Franklin explained matters to General Braddock, and showed him that the people of Pennsylvania were ready to help when the time came. Then, when he saw in what a tangle and trouble. the general was about the horses and wagons needed for getting the army supplies and the camp baggage out to the Ohio country, he at once offered to see that horses and wagons should be procured for the general. General Braddock was greatly pleased at this offer of help in his worries. He begged Franklin to trv and get the things he needed, and back into Pennsylvania rode the energetic postmaster-general to make good his promises. He did make them good. In his usual pleasant but 98 BO IV HE SAVED THE COUNTRY FOR THE FIRST TFME. determined way he roused the Pennsylvania farmers to the necessity of helping the British general ; and in twenty days after he had promised General Braddock to help him, he rode into the British camp at Frederick, in Mary- land, with one hundred and fifty farm wagons and two hundred and fifty pack horses, with all the hay and oats needed for them. That was business-like, was it not ? Again General Braddock was delighted. He praised and thanked '' Mr. Franklin," and wrote home to Ene- land about " the postmaster's fidelity and promptitude." Then Franklin, seeing that the army was liable to run short of provisions, offered to get stores of food and provisions from Pennsylvania. He kept his promise. Ample food and supplies were collected; and at last Gen- eral Braddock was ready to march into the Ohio country, whip the French, and conquer Canada. Franklin listened to all his big talk, and saw at once how little the British general knew of the rough forest land he was to enter, and the Indian way of fighting. He tried to reason with the general, and get him to move carefully and cautiously. But you know the story of General Braddock. You know how pig-headed and wil- ful he was, and how he kept his soldiers drilled and dressed as if they were to make a fancy parade along the streets of London. He would not be advised either by Franklin or by young Colonel George Washington, who also tried to argue him out of his plan. HO IV HE SAVED THE COUNTRY FOR THE FIRST TIME. OQ "What do you provincials know about real war?" he said. *' I'll show these French and Indians how a British general fights. I'll conquer them; don't you worry." So the army marched westward in splendid array, and Franklin went home to Philadelphia. But, soon after, came the news of that terrible disaster, familiar to you in your history lessons as " Braddock's defeat." The splendid British army was surprised, sur- rounded, and slaughtered. Braddock was killed ; and his army was only saved from destruction by the skill and bravery of Colonel George Washington, the despised " provincial." After that, who gained so much credit for advice and knowledge as wise "Mr. Franklin"? He was called into council by the governors ; he was asked for advice ; he was listened to eagerly ; and when a new army was gath- ered for the defence of the threatened Pennsylvania colony from the dreaded French and Indians, at its head marched its new commander, brave General Benjamin Franklin — for he was a general now. He drove the Indians off; he forced the French to the border; he built forts; he made the Pennsylvania border safe ; and then, after two months' soldiering, he went back again to his books and his study at Philadelphia, while all Philadelphia welcomed him home with gratitude and thanks and cheers. Then the governor begged him to take the field again, lOO ffOlV HE SAVED THE COUNTRY EOR THE FIRST TIME, and lead an army into the far Ohio country to the final defeat of the French, at their post at Fort Duquesne, where now stands the city of Pittsburgh. ! 1 L ^ H 1 I 1 ■ ■ ■ HI s 'l^^PilHnwH^^^^^^I ^^^^^^^^^1 ^^^^^1 ^^^^^H ^MIB j'!j.'.y|iwjT '^ ' "-'^''i^^^^^^H ^^^^^^H ^^^1 ^H ■ ■I IP Pz ^^ lii^^HH ^^^^^^^^^B i^s.-^"^ ifi^Tri&aHB ^^H j^^^k EH^^hH^^I H « r B ^ '4| ■ ■ RS ^^H ^^^ujf^^H BE^T ^ «^P ^g Hi H Hw^^ ^^?^ ^ |[f.-.*. '' S 1^1 ^^^B ^B 1 1 B |W^^ if ./^' 1 1 H ^H BW 1 1 1 i ^ S^S' •.' "^ g B 1 ^1 WHERE FORT DUQUESNE STOOD IN FRANKLIN'S DAY. ( Tlie Junction of the A UegJiany and Mottongahela Rivers at Pittsburgh. — Originally Fort Duquesne, next Fort Pitt, after titat Pittsburgh.') But Franklin knew just how much he was able to do. He said that he was not the man for that job; it needed a real soldier, and he was no soldier, he said. " I can serve you better in some other way," he told the people. HOW HE SAVED THE COUNIRY FOR THE FIRST TIME. lOI He did. He took his seat in the Assembly, of which he was a member, and tried to strengthen the colony by fixing up matters — for, you see, there was a lot of trouble between the people of Pennsylvania and their obstinate governor, their still more obstinate '' proprietors," the Penn family, and the most obstinate one of all, the king of England. It was the hardest kind of \\ork. There was one con- tinual and many-sided quarrel. No one wished to do as the others desired. At last the Assembly said that the only way to settle things was to send over to England some man who knew the colonists' side of the storv, who knew about their rights and their needs, and who could tell the Penn family and the king to their faces just what the colony of Pennsylvania needed, just what were their rights in the matter, and just what they must have. There was only one man who could do this. You know him — Benjamin Franklin! In the spring of 1757 Franklin sailed to England as the agent of Pennsylvania, to plead the cause of his fel- low-colonists. That w^as quite a change, was it not, from that day when, years before, he had landed in England a poor, friendless, forlorn young printer, the dupe and sport of a former governor of the very colony which now he came to represent at the court of the king. His task was no easy one. Somehow, the work given him to do was always hard. Perhaps that was why he I02 ffOlV HE SAVED THE COUNTRY FOR THE FIRST TUfE. liked to "tackle" it — for Franklin, you know, always liked to work out hard problems. But he kept at it, talking, arguing, arranging ; and after five years of keeping at it, he finally succeeded in getting the best of the selfish Penn family, and arranging matters to the satisfaction of the colony. Then he went home. But he had done so well that his colony wished him to try again. This time they wanted to get clear of the Penns altogether; they wanted Pennsylvania to be a province just like Massachusetts and New York and other colonies. Franklin knew this would be a hard fight. But he declared himself ready to try if the people said he must; and off to England he sailed once more, in the year 1764, to again plead the cause of his countrymen before the king of England and his high and mighty ministers. The printer was in great demand, you see. HOW HE BECAME DR. FRANKLIN. 103 . CHAPTER VI. HOW HE BECAME DR. FRANKLIN. I SUPPOSE I ought to turn back in my story now, and tell you about the other side of Franklin's life. For there was another side. You would think as you read of all that he did for his colony and country that this would have taken up all his time. But, do you know, it is the busy man who can best find time to do things. The lazy man never has time to do anything, or else he acts like the boy who read Franklin's motto the wrong way : " Never do to-day what you can put off till to- morrow." If you ever want anything done, ask the man who has too much to do, not the man who has nothing to do. It was just this way with Benjamin Franklin. You remefnber, do you not, how he made time for reading and study when he was an apprentice, by saving half his dinner hour ? That was his way all through life — he was always saving time to be spent in some other work than his regular occupation. In this way, you know, he studied arithmetic and grammar while he was a hard-worked apprentice ; in this I04 HOW HE BECAME DR. FRANKLIN. way he made time to write those anonymous contribu- tions to his brother's paper, when lie had scarcely an hour he could call his own. And, in the same way, as he grew older, he found time, even when he was busiest, to do some improving work, some helpful act, some public benefit, or to think out some invention of worth and value. I don't believe he ever wasted a moment ; and yet he got as much fun out of life as the laziest lord in Europe, and really kept himself young by his jokes, his songs, and his comradeship with the host of pleasant people who liked and loved him. For Benjamin Franklin was what we call a lovable man. On a sea voyage he would study the velocity of the waves, observe the habits of crabs and water-folk, or the sea-fowl that fluttered about the masts; on his walks he would look into the life and doings of ants and insects. He worked out the course and coming of the northeast storms, and was, in fact, the first "Old Probabilities," or American weather bureau. When he was setting up type in Philadelphia, you remember, he found time to start his pet debating society, the "Junto;" and his interest in this led him into many other plans for self-help and mutual improvement. He started a library, an academy, a hospital, and a philo- sophical society, all of which are in existence in Philadel- phia to this day. He advanced the security and pros- HOW HE BECAME DR. FRANKLIN. 105 perity of the city by giving to it a police force, a fire department, a militia regiment, clean streets, pavements, sidewalks, and street crossings. He introduced to his countrymen the yellow willow, from which, in no small measure, so much of our willow and wicker work is THE PENNSYLVANIA HOSPITAL, FOUNDED BY BENJAMIN FRANKLIN IN 1752. made; the broom corn, for our whisk and house brooms; and the idea of fertilizing farmland by powdering it with plaster of Paris — the beginning of the vast fertilizing business that has so helped our farmers. When it was feared that so many wood-fires (there I06 HOJV HE BECAME DR. ERANKLIN. was no such thing then known as coal, you see) would kill out or use up the forest trees, he studied out a new way to heat houses, and invented an iron stove for burn- ing wood and not wasting it. This stove, named from him the Franklin stove, was in use for many, many years, — I know of some in use to-day. And this was really the beginning of the great stove-manufacturing industry of America. The governor of Pennsylvania recognized the great value of this new idea, and offered to get out a patent on it in Franklin's name, so that the inventor could have the benefit and profit of its manufacture. But Franklin declined. " I got that up for the benefit of the public," he said, "and we who enjoy the advantages of the inven- tions of others should be glad of an opportunity to serve others by any invention of our own ; and this we should do freely and generously." So he gave the invention to his countrymen. But an iron manufacturer in London was not so generous or kind- hearted. He saw a chance to make money; so he set to work to copy and make the Franklin stove, took out a patent on it for himself, and made himself rich by its manufacture. The world, you see, is made up of all sorts of people. Some are like Franklin — and some are not! Eager to study into any new thing, Franklin was at once interested in the subject of electricity, that newly discovered force in nature which, about the year 1740, was HO IV HE BECAME DR. FRANKLIN: 107 attracting the attention of the scientific men all over the world. It was not really a new discovery — scarcely any- thing is really new, you know ; but though learned men had known of the mysterious power from early times, no one could understand, explain, study, or capture it. To-day it is scarcely even a wonder to you. It lights your streets and houses, draws you along without horses in car or carriage, helps you to talk with people miles away, and sends all around and over the earth the news of each day's happenings. We have only just begun to learn its value, its power, and its possibilities ; but it has already become one of the greatest aids to man, and for this the world is largely indebted to the enterprise, the in- genuity, and the daring of Benjamin Franklin. He tried all sorts of experiments, he ran all sorts of risks, in order to find out more about it. You know how dangerous electricity is, even now, to those who understand it. In Franklin's day to trifle with it was like playing with matches around a barrel of gunpowder or drumming the rat-tat-too upon a keg of dynamite. Those are both rather risky, you know. But in the interest of science Franklin was ready to take risks — and he did. He killed turkeys by electricity, let himself be knocked down by electric shocks simply to be able to know and explain how it felt ; he made electric games, played electric jokes, had his house ringing with electric bells much to the distress of his good wife; he I08 HOir HE BECAME DR. FRANKLIN. tried electricity on sick people, he tried it on well people, until, at last, by the experiment of the kite and the in- vention of lightning rods, he passed from playing with it to doino- with it, and at once attracted the attention of men of science all over the world. You have read the kite story, I suppose. It was the way in which Franklin discovered that lightning was electricity. It was in the summer of 1752. Franklin had thought and studied over the question until he had come to believe that lightning was electricity, and he thought if he could only get up into a thunder cloud he would prove it. But there were no balloons handy ; there was no high hill in the vicinity of Philadelphia; there was not a single church spire in all the town. If there had been anything of this sort — anything at all like the high buildings that are now^ plentiful enough in Philadelphia — he would have rigged up an elevated stand on it, run out his piece of sharpened wire and waited for a low-sailing, thunder cloud to pass over it, and if there were electricity in it, to send its fire down the pointed wire, — that was his first idea of the lightning rod, you see. But there was- no high point in Philadelphia, — neither hill, nor roof, nor spire. So it became a case like the old saying : If the mountain won't come to Mahomet, Ma- homet must go to the mountain. "If the thunder clouds can't come down to me," said Franklin, " I'll go up to the " HE TOUCHED HIS KNUCKLE TO THE HANGING KEY." {See page 113.) HOW HE BECAME DR. FRANKLIN. Ill clouds." And so he made his famous kite. He made the frame of two strips of cedar in the shape of a cross, and covered this frame with a large thin silk handker- chief; for the thin silk, he knew, would stand the wind and rain wdiere paper would soak and tear, and cloth WQuld be too heavy. He rigged to the kite a tail, loop, and string, and then fastened at the top of the upright stick of the cross a long piece of sharp, pointed wire, sticking out a foot or more above the kite. To the end of the kite-string he tied a piece of silk ribbon. This he held in his hand, and from the point where the silk ribbon was tied to the string he hung a big door-key. Then one day, when it looked as if a thunder-storm were certain to come up, he and his son William, a stout, manly young fellow of twenty or twenty-one, stole out of their house, carrying the kite, and hurried off into the open country outside the town. They went as quietly as possible ; for Franklin did not wish any one to know of his experiment, and I suspect his son did not wish any of the girls to see him, for fear they would make fun of " Billie Franklin " and his father going off to fly a kite in a thunder storm, just like two foolish little boys. Very near to where stands to-day the vast City Hall of splendid Philadelphia they raised the kite ; but, to keep both himself and the silk ribbon dry, Franklin stood just inside the doorway of a big cowshed that stood near by. Then they waited anxiously for the thunder-cloud. I 12 HOW HE BECAME DR. FRANKLIN. The kite flew finely and pulled hard, but the thunder clouds played off. One cloud passed over the kite ; an- other covered it ; but there was no electricity in them. At last, just as the experimenter was about to give it up, WHERE FRANKLIN FLEW THE KITE. {The great City BuUdiiig of Fhiladelphia, at Broad and Market Streets.) another black cloud swept across the silken kite. Sud- denly Franklin's brave heart gave a leap ; the fibres on his hempen kite string, which he w^as watching so intently, began to move and rise, and, at last, stood out "seven ways for Sunday," as my grandmother used to say — that HO IF HE BECAME DK. FRANKLIN I I 3 is, every way. He touched his knuckle to the hanging key. Zip! came a spark, tingling and stinging. Zip! zip! came another and yet another as he knuckled the key again and again. "I've proved it, Billie," he said triumphantly to his son. The wetter the kite string became the heavier was it charged with electricity, and then, connecting the key with a sort of storage battery, which they had brought, — called a Leyden jar — they had all the electricity they needed, and both the father and son took from it the most satisfying shock a philosopher could desire, — one that nearly knocked them over. Then Franklin pulled in the silken kite and went back home through the rain proud and triumphant; for he had proved his theory. He had brought lightning down from heaven ; he had shown that he was right, — lightning was electricity! Now he could go to work, and by setting up his- lightning rods, show people how to save both property and lives by putting into effect his own proverb that '* an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure." To day, if you go to Philadelphia, you can see on the grounds of the great University of Pennsylvania, the school that Franklin founded, a splendid statue of Frank- lin and his kite. It is the very one that stood before the door of the beautiful and wonder-filled electricity building at the World's Columbian Exhibition of 1893, in Chicago, 114 HO IV HE BECAME DR. FRANKLIN. — a display of marvels and of magical assistants which were largely due to the pluck and perseverance and brain of Benjamin Franklin in that Philadelphia cow-shed, one hundred and forty years before the Great Chicago Expo- sition. THE UNIVERSITY OF PENNSYLVANIA, FOUNDED BY BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. (/« front of this stands tlie " Chicago Statue" of Franklin and his kite.) From the kite Franklin quickly passed to the invention of the lightning rods, which he soon after made and set up on his own and other houses. They were sharply-pointed iron rods running from the roofs or highest points of buildings to the ground. The electricity-filled clouds of HO W HE BECAME DR. FRANKLIN. I 1 5 a thunder storm, in passing over buildings thus protected, would have their electricity drawn by these pointed rods, and along the rods into the ground, thus saving the house from the frightful chance of being struck by lightning. These two experiments ending so successfully were written out by Franklin, and soon found their way to all the other students of electricity and all the learned people of the world. At once the reputation of Franklin as a philosopher and man of science became very great. When he went to Boston on his post-office business, Harvard College, which you remember he had so " pitched into " in his boyish " newspaper piece," gave him what is called an honorary degree, making him A. M., " Master of Arts," for his work in behalf of science. Yale College in New Haven did the same thing; and, when he went across the sea to England as the agent for Pennsylvania, he found that his fame had gone ahead of him. There the great university of St. Andrews in Scotland made him an LL.D., "Doctor of Laws;" and the famous University of Oxford in England made him a D.C.L., " Doctor of Civil Law." Thus he became Doctor Franklin. Thus, at fifty, Ben- jamin Franklin, the candle-maker's son, the runaway ap- prentice, the hungry, friendless printer, — who had left school at ten, and wdiose only education had been what he had taught himself, — found himself renowned by the great schools, societies, and colleges of Europe and Amer- ica, receiving from them honors that princes could not ii6 HO IV HE BECAME DR. FRANKLIN. attain, but which really honored those who gave even more than it did him who received them. The Boston boy was now the best known American in all the world. PHOTOGRAPHED BY BALDWIN COOLIDGE. FRANKLIN AND THE LIGHTNING. {Bronze Bas-relief on the base of Greenoitgh'' s Statue of Franklin, in front of City Hall, Boston.") But, while he had been so busy with hand and brain all these years, finding out strange new things and using his discoveries for the advancement of science and the good of mankind. Doctor Franklin had also been Teacher HO IV HE BECAME DR. ERANKLIN. II7 F^ranklin, educating his countrymen into habits of economy, thoughtfulness, and self-help. In "Poor Richard's Almanac" of which I have told you, among things to make folks laugh and things to make them think, among recipes, and rules for health, were many wise and witty sayings which have become world-famous, and which even the boys and girls of to-day use in their talk without ever thinking who it was that first said them. Along with these, too, Franklin wrote many other short, bright, sensible things which, as they thought them over, opened the eyes of his fellow-Ameri- cans to their rights as men and their privileges as citizens, home-builders, and money-getters. Their ancestors, in the old world across the sea, had been brought up to think that those in power were of bet- ter blood or nobler nature than themselves. But in the freer air of the new world, where they had to depend upon themselves, they began to think differently, especially as they read and pondered Poor Richard's sayings. "Worth makes the man," Poor Richard told them, " Knowledge is power," "A stitch in time saves nine." " Be industrious and free ; be frugal and free," he said ; and, in his own rules of conduct, Franklin had thus asked for Heaven's aid: "Help me to be faithful to my country, careful for its good, valiant for its defence, and obedient to its laws." As he taught himself, so he taught others; and as " Poor Richard " or as " Father Abraham," under I 1 8 HOW HE BECAME DR. FRANKLIN. both of which names he wrote his maxims and advice for his fellow-Arnericans, he did all this so simply and yet so strongly that his words sank deep into the hearts of the people, and educated them, even though they knew it not, in habits of economy, self-help, and independence. In hundreds of humble homes in America, as I have already told you, but two books were known or in daily use, — the Bible and "Poor Richard's Almanac;" and from both, fathers and sons and mothers and daughters learned to depend upon God and upon themselves for help, for strength, and for character. When you keep hearing things told and retold, what you thus hear becomes almost a part of yourself. So these wise and thrifty maxims of Poor Richard's, repeated by father or mother, would not be forgotten by the children. His words did more to make the people of America think for themselves, and act for themselves when the time came, than all the speeches of all the orators. Indeed, one historical writer tells us that the battles of the American Revolution could not have been fought between 1775 and 1783 if "Poor Rich- ard's Almanac" had not been published from 1732 to 1758. The people had been schooled by him to endurance, pa- tience, manliness, economy, and helpfulness. So you see, while the colleges and the learned socie- ties of Europe gave him, at fifty, his degree and title of Doctor Franklin because he had found out and had done so much, the American people had long followed him. HOW HE BECAME DR. FRANKLIN. II9 even without thinking that it was Franklin who was their leader, teacher, and guide. They had even gone ahead of their leader ; for while in the first years of his residence in England, Franklin advised loyalty to the king and submission to the decrees of Parliament, the people of America, as the pupils of the man who had set them to thinking, had passed beyond his caution. They were determined that neither king nor parliament should impose upon them by unjust laws or selfish decrees. They were becoming each day more inde- pendent, more self-reliant. Others followed where Franklin had led. With his words as a text, they talked to the people ; and their argu- ments and appeals set alight the flame of liberty, which grew stronger and brighter as the " masters " in England became more obstinate and tyrannical. Then, at last, the flame burst into a mighty blaze that lighted the path of America to union, to independence, and to greatness, and gave to the world so bright a beacon light of liberty that kings and princes heeded the warn- ing; and to-day liberty and justice live in all lands be- cause of America's story. And this advance of the people was largely due to the wisdom and the teachings of Dr. Benjamin Franklin, philosopher and patriot. I20 HOJV BE FACED THE PARLIAMENT OF ENGLAND. CHAPTER VII. HOW HE FACED THE PARLIAMENT OF ENGLAND. HEN Franklin reached England on his second mission as agent for the colony of Pennsylvania, he found the king and his ministers bent on a piece of work that was to cost England, before she was through, a million times more than she hoped to make by it. This was known as the Stamp Act. The war with France had cost a great deal of money. France had been whipped ; but for every war in which a nation indulges the nation must pay. So, to help England meet the cost of the war, the min- isters of King George said the American colonies must pay their share. To pay this share they proposed to put a tax on everything the Americans used. This tax was in the form of stamps ; and a tax or revenue stamp, much like a postage stamp, had to be stuck on everything that was thus taxed. Fifty-four different classes of objects were thus taxed, and in one way or another it affected almost every man, woman, or child in America. Now, although the people of the colonies had paid dearly for that terrible war with France in money, men, HOW HE FACED THE PARLIAMENT OF ENGLAND. 121 and suffering, they did not object to pay a reasonable share of the expenses, even if it were in the form of a tax; but they did object to being taxed and having no right to say how the money thus raised should be spent. They had grown tired of having England speak of them as "subjects," of raTiiTiiir" Tf >-r% having the king of Eng- land spoken of as their master, of having neither A^oice nor vote in the matter of how much money England should take from America, and for what she should spend it. They began to grum- ble. " No taxation with- out representation," they said. " Give us a voice, a seat in parliament, a vote — something to show that we are Englishmen and not slaves, and we will join hands and help you out. But the tax you propose, and the way you propose to collect and use it, we simply will not agree to." And so this strong feeling against British tyranny FANEUIL HALL, BOSTON. {One of t!u places in which the Colonies protested.) 122 HO IV HE FACED THE PARLIAMENT OF ENGLAND. grew into what you read of in your history as America's protest. For they were beginning, across the water, to feel the strength and truth of one of Franklin's sayings : " Resistance to tyranny is obedience to God." Franklin arrived in England just as the hated Stamp Act was being considered by the king and his ministers. His mission to relieve Pennsylvania of the rule of the Penn family was, therefore, of much less importance than the question of taxing the colonies. Some of the other American colonies had agfents or representatives in England. Franklin talked with them ; and it was decided to see and reason with the chief of the king's councillors, the prime minister as he was called. Perhaps, they said, we may bring him to see the injus- tice of this Act, and prevent it from becoming a law. Franklin had already, at home and in England, spoken strongly against this unreasonable Stamp Act. ''It is the very mother of mischief," he declared. " If the king says we must pay it, we are still the good subjects of his majesty, and may do as he requires. But it will be the beginning of trouble, and will be a great mistake on the part of King George and his ministers." So the agents of the colonies went to see the prime minister. They talked earnestly to him, and tried to get him to favor some other means of raising money, or, at least, to give the colonies some kind of a say about the money that England wished them to raise. HOW HE FACED THE PARLIAMENT OF ENGLAND. 123 But the prime minister would scarcely listen to them. " The Stamp Act is the only thing that can help us out," he said, " and the colonies must pay it. That is all there is about it. How much it shall be, how it shall be raised, and how it shall be spent, is for the Parliament to decide. You Americans have really nothing to say about the matter." So the Stamp Act was passed, in spite of the protests of the colonies and their agents. England made a mighty mistake ; and a blow was struck at America's loyalty to the king which led the colonies to strike back and, at last, to break out into open rebellion. Franklin then did not think it would go so far. But he had worked hard to prevent the passage of the Act. "I took every step in my power," he said, ''to prevent the passing of the Stamp Act. But the tide was too strong against us. The nation was provoked by Ameri- can claims of legislative independence ; and all parties joined in resolving, by this Act, to settle the point." But the opposition in America was even stronger than he imagined. It not only called the government of Eng- land hard names, but it also did the same to the agents of the colonies. Franklin's Pennsylvania, for whom he had labored so long and unselfishly, said he might have stopped the Act if he had only tried hard; and a riotous mob in Philadelphia frightened his wife, and threatened to burn his house. 124 HOW BE FACED THE PARLIAMENT OF ENGLAND. When the news of the way America felt reached him in England, and he saw that the opposition might lead to something stronger than words, he understood how people so many miles apart might not be able to understand one another. Neither America nor England understood each other. England thought America was what you boys call "too fresh;" America thought England to be, what you boys also call "too bossy." Do you understand the situ- ation from these boyish comparisons? You see it was just like the story of young Ben Franklin and sulky brother James. Half the trouble in the world might be saved if people would only try to understand one another. So Franklin, in his wisdom, did his best to make Eng- land see just how America felt about the Stamp Act, and to get her to be just toward her restless young daughter across the sea. "The Stamp Act must be repealed," he said, "or Eng- land will be the loser." To repeal, you know, means to call back. It undoes a thing already done. If Parliament said, "We'll take that back ; you need not pay that stamp tax," Franklin felt that the trouble might be cured, although he was afraid that England had gone too far. So he wrote, he talked, he argued, and he labored. He told the English people that if they persisted in putting this tax upon commerce, they would lose far more than they hoped to gain. For, he told them that, rather than pay the stamp tax, the Ameri- NOW HE FACED THE PARLIAMENT OF ENGLAND. I 25 cans would give up buying English goods. In that way, the things taxed not being bought, there would be no money received from America in the way of taxes or in payment for the things that England had been supply- ing. At the same time, he also warned them, if the Americans once got in the way of making their own clothes and manufacturing their own goods, England would have no market in America for the goods she had always supplied before. And so it proved. Rather than pay the tax, the Amer- icans gave up buying English goods. They spun their own wool, made their own clothes and their own furni- ture, and did without many, many things they desired and needed. The merchants in England who sent and sold goods to America became frightened. ''This tax is ruining us," they said. "It is stopping our business ; it is doing no good either to England or America. Repeal it ; Repeal it ! " they cried. The leading men in England began to see that a mis- take had been made. They thought it best to look into the matter carefully and see just what could be done. Among other things they called the agents of the colo- nies before the parliament, and questioned them about the feeling in America. They looked upon Franklin as the one who knew the most about this; and so they summoned him to appear before the parliament on a certain day, and let that whole company of English lawmakers know just 126 HOW HE FACED THE PARLIAMENT OF ENGLAND. what he thought about the Stamp Act, and what the Americans wished. This is what is known in history as the examination "they spun their own wool, and did without many things they needed." of Franklin. It was a great scene. It was on the 3d of July, 1766, just ten years before the day when a great event was to happen across the ocean in America. Within a narrow chamber in stately Westminster Hall, HOW HE FACED THE PARLIAMENT OF ENGLAND. I 27 known as St. Stephen's Chapel — an old, old room built in the days of the Norman kings of England, — the House of Commons was assembled, presided over by its chief officer, called the Speaker. Before that famous assembly of the " lords and gen- tlemen " of England, there came a hale and hearty man of sixty, stout, pleasant-faced, big every way. He wore a plain but rich suit of Manchester velvet — big coat, long vest, knee breeches, stockings, and low shoes with big silver buckles. He wore a long wig, and carried a cane and a big three-cornered hat. He stood there before them for hours, answering all questions thrown at him by friend and foe — for in that crowded House of Commons he had both friend and foe. That stout man in the velvet suit was Benjamin Franklin, the American, standing, on behalf of his coun- trymen, an examination in regard to the odious Stamp Act which the same parliament of England had fastened upon overburdened America. The questions came thick and fast ; but the answers were ready, brief, and straight to the point. He never hesitated for a reply, never faltered in an opinion. It was worse than one of your dreaded examinations in school ; but Franklin was so well prepared that, as one who saw and heard him declared, the examination was *' much like a master examined by a parcel of schoolboys " — and vou know how that would be, do you not? 128 HOW HE FACED THE PARLIAMENT OF ENGLAND. Every answer given by Franklin, so another man who was present on that singular examination-day declared, " was always found equal, if not superior, to the ques- tion ; " and one of Franklin's biographers, going carefully over the whole affair, tells us that Franklin's examination ''instructed England and thrilled America," — for you may be sure that, in due time, his countrymen in America heard all about it. Let us take a seat here, on the steps to the Speaker's platform, and listen to just a few of these questions and answers. "Don't you know, Mr. Franklin, that the money from the stamp tax is all to be laid out in America?" asks one member. " I know," answers Franklin, '* that it is appropriated by the act to the American service; but it will be spent in the conquered colonies where the soldiers are, — not in the colonies that pay it." " Do you not think the people of America would sub- mit to pay the stamp duty if it were moderated ? " "No, never; unless compelled by force of arms." "What was the temper of America toward Great Brit- ain before the year 1763?" " The best in the world. They had not only a respect, but an affection, for Great Britain. To be an ' Old Eng- land ' man was of itself a character of some respect, and gave a kind of rank among us." ? > HO IV HE FACED THE PARLIAMENT OF ENGLAND. 131 "And what is their temper now?" "Oh, very much altered," says Franklin emphatically. " In what light did the people of America use to con- sider this Parliament of Great Britain?" "They considered the Parliament as the great bulwark and security of their liberties and privileges, and always spoke of it with the utmost respect and veneration." " And have they not still the same respect for Par- liament? " " No," again Franklin answers emphatically, almost sternly; "it is greatly lessened." "Don't you think the Americans would submit to the Stamp Act if it were modified ? " "No, sir; they will never submit to it," says Franklin. " How would the Americans receive a future tax of the same nature as the Stamp Act?" "Just as they do this," is the reply. "They will never pay it." " Have you not heard of the resolutions of Parliament asserting their rights toward America, including a power to tax the people there ? " "Yes sir; I have heard of such resolutions," Franklin admits. " What will be the opinion of the Americans on these resolutions ?" And Franklin answers promptly, " they will think them unconstitutional and unjust." 132 HOW HE FACED THE PARLIAMENT OF ENGLAND. ** Suppose we should lay a tax on the necessities of life imported into your colony?" " I do not know a single article," replies Franklin boldly, *' imported into the northern colonies that they cannot do without or make themselves." There is a stir in the throng; this answer greatly sur- prises them. "Why, Mr. Franklin," exclaims one member; "don't you think cloth from England absolutely necessary to the Americans? " "No, sir; by no means," Franklin replies. "With industry and good management the Americans can very well supply themselves with all they want." "Why!" they ask in surprise, "will it not take a long time to establish the cloth manufacture among them ? Must they not in the mean time suffer greatly?" Franklin glances at his own fine velvet suit. " I think not," he answers smilingly. " The Americans have made a surprising progress already." He waits an instant ; then he adds, meaningly, "And, sir, I am of the opinion that before their old clothes are worn out, they will have new ones of their own making." The Parliament rather doubts this. They have been brought up to think that America cannot do without Eng- lish clothes, and they try to corner Franklin on the wool question. But they cannot; so his questioners go back to the Stamp Act. HOW HE FACED THE PARLIAMENT OF ENGLAND. 1 33 "Do you think, Mr. Franklin, that if the Stamp Act is repealed, the Americans will be satisfied ? " " I believe they will," Franklin answers honestly. '' But is not Parliament the judge as to the right of doing things which occasion demands ? " asks one mem- ber, who does not like this American way of settling things. "Though the Parliament may judge of the occasion," is Franklin's reply, " the people will think it can never exercise such right till representatives from the colonies are admitted into Parliament ; and they will think, too, that whenever the occasion does arise, representatives will be ordered." The Englishman does not like this tone, but he can not change it with all his questioning; and we Americans, sitting on the steps, grow quite excited. "Well, Mr. Franklin," another member inquires, "can anything less than a military force carry the Stamp Act into execution ? " And Franklin quietly replies, " I do not see how a military force can be applied to that purpose." His questioner is surprised. "Why! why not?" he demands. " Suppose a military force sent into America," Frank- lin makes answer; "they will find nobody in arms. What are they then to do? They cannot force a man to take these stamps if he chooses to do without them. They 134 HOW HE FACED 2 HE PARLIAMEXT OF EXGLAXD. will not find a rebellion. But," he adds meaningly, " they may make one." And this, do you know, is precisely what the English- men did. In the American re\-olution the Americans were right ; the British broke their own laws, and were there- fore the real rebels. **If the Act is not repealed," some one asks Franklin, "what do you think will be the consequence?" " A total loss of the respect and affec- tion the people of America bear to Eng- land." replies Frank- lin, ''and." he adds, "of all the commerce that depends upon that respect and affection." " Supposing the Stamp Act continued and enforced," now comes the question; "do you imagine that ill-humor will in- duce the Americans to o-ive as much for worse manufactures of their own, and use them instead of our better ones?" EDMUND EURKE, THE FRIEND OF AMERICA, WHO SPOKZ. .. ARGUED THE CAUSE OF THE COLONIES IN PARLIAMENT. HOW HE FACED THE PARLIAMEXT OF EXGLASD. 135 "Yes, sir, I think so," says Franklin, the philosopher; *• for, vou know, people will pay as ireely to gratify one passion as another — their resentment as their pride." "If the Stamp Aet should be repealed, would not the Americans think they could oblige the Parliament to re- peal every tax law now in lorce?" asks one rather sus- picious member; and Franklin, the shrewd, replies, — " It is hard to answer questions oi what peo}de at such a distance will think."" *' Can we. at this distance." another inquires, be com- petent judges oi what fa\-ors to America are neces- sary ? " "Your Parliament." answers Franklin, "have supposed that they were by clainiing a right to make tax laws for America. But I think it impossible." " If the Stamp Act should be repealed. Mr. Fraid^lin. would it induce the asseiublies o\ America to acknowl- edge the rights oi Parliament to tax them, and would they erase their resolutions against us ? "' "No. sir. ne\'er!"" savs Franklin stoutlv. "Are there no means oi obliging them to erase those resolutions?" comes the signiticant inquirw " None that I know oi. They will never Ao it. unless compelled bv force oi arms." *' Is there a power o\\ earth." persists the (.|uestioner. "that can force theni to erase them?" And Franklin answers grandh' : " No power, howso- 136 HO IV HE FACED THE PARLIAMENT OF ENGLAND. ever great," he says, " can force men to change their opinions." "Well, Mr. Franklin," says one member, thinking to get a little fun out of the philosopher, " what used to be the pride of the Americans ? " And Franklin quickly responds, " To indulge in the fashions and manufactures of Great Britain." " And what is now their pride ? " the same questioner asks; to which stout Mr. Franklin answers like a flash, — " To wear their old clothes over again, till they can make new ones." " That will do, sir," says Mr. Fuller, the chairman of the Inquiry Committee, and the Speaker nods. " Mr. Franklin, you are excused from further attendance." Whereupon he retires; and we young Americans march away from the Speaker's steps, very certain that the Par- liament of England did not get the better of "our Mr. Franklin." Of course, I have given you but a few of the ques- tions and answers in that famous examination. I have before me, as I write, the complete affair. The exami- nation fills page upon page of a good-sized book. Never once does Franklin falter. His answers are all as simple, direct, and vigorous as those you have read abov^e. The Parliament of England certainly did not get the better of "our Mr. Franklin." Six days after his examina- tion the hated Stamp Act w^as repealed; it was no longer HO IV HE FOUGH2' THE TAX TYRANTS. 137 a law ; and for that victory for the colonies this wise, shrewd, and patriotic American was largely responsible. America went wild with joy. Bells rang and bonfires blazed. It was a great victory for justice and for right, and Benjamin Franklin was hailed in America as deliv- erer and champion. CHAPTER VIII. HOW HE FOUGHT THE TAX TYRANTS. I NEVER heard such noise in my life," wrote Sally Franklin, in Philadelphia, to her father the doctor, in London ; *' the very children seem distracted." Of course America was joyful over the repeal of the Stamp Act; it was just what she wished, and there were bell-ringings and bonfires and cheers and processions. But all this did England no special good. England had heavy war debts; they must be paid, and America somehow must help to pay them — if not in one way, then in another. The king of England was George the Third. He was an honest and worthy gentleman, — an excellent father, a good king, as kings go, and a good man. But he had one defect and one fault, — he was stupid and he was obstinate. 138 BOW HE FOUGHT THE TAX TYRANTS. It made him very angry to have his royal will crossed by a lot of farmers, mechanics, and fishermen across the sea in America. He meant well ; he wished to do the best thing for England and America — 'especially for Eng- land. But he did not go to work right. He was too stupid to see the clear and only path of justice; and so he hurt England, and made America — though he never knew it. For George the Third of England possessed what one writer calls " the most terrible combination in the universe — ignorance and good intentions." A man may wish to do just the right thing, you know; but if he has not the sense to know what that right thing is, disaster and ruin are very apt to follow. Franklin did not at first understand King George. A cat may look at a king, you know, and so, too, may a phi- losopher; but the people near the throne took very good care that this shrewd and far-seeing American philosopher should not get a chance to see or talk with the king. He could never get beyond the Prime Minister — the king's head man. So Franklin supposed that it was Par- liament that was blocking the way and injuring America; he believed that KinQj- Geors^e was America's best friend. o o He thought, too, that the king was powerful, and could do whatever he desired. But he could not. George the Third was what is called a constitutional monarch ; he had to do just what certain laws, called the constitution of England, told him ; and he did not, in fact, have as HO IV HE FOUGHT THE TAX TYRANTS. 139 much to say as does now the President of the United States. But he could fret and fume ; and that is what he did after the repeal of the Stamp Act. So, until he really began to see through the king, Franklin w^as a loyal and willing subject of King George — ■ for an American. He disliked the idea of pow^er in any man which might become tyranny. He had known what that meant in his boyhood, you know, when sulky Brother James was his master. Indeed, he al- ways remembered that experience, and de- clared that he believed his brother's harsh and tyrannical treatment was really what had given him " that aversion to arbitrary power that has stuck to me through my whole life," — so he writes in the story of his life. So, when, after the repeal of the Stamp Act, Parlia- ment, spurred on by the king and his advisers, tried to think up some way to get even with the Americans and HE COULD NEVER GET BEYOND THE PRIME MINISTER — THE king's HEAD MAN." 140 HO IV HE FOUGHT THE TAX TYRANTS. to get some money from them, Franklin did some think- ing too. And his thoughts generally amounted to some- thing, you know. He wished to help England as well as America ; and as he pondered over the bigness of America he believed that, if the vast and splendid lands that lay between the Alleghany Mountains and the Mississippi River could be colonized by England, it would so populate and improve that section that there would be no need for expensive forts and hungry armies, for the new colonists would be their own protectors, and save the frontiers from the French and Indians just as the Atlantic colonies had. For he had told Parliament in that famous examination that English soldiers did more harm than good in America, and that the Americans could protect themselves — as, in- deed, they had done. So he proposed to King George the immediate coloni- zation by English families of what was called the Illinois country, becoming, in this way, the first to suggest and attempt the extension of America into what afterwards became our great western states and territories. But though his plan was accepted, and a colonization company, of which he was a member, was formed, the ministers of King George opposed and speedily ruined it ; and our rich and mighty west was built up, not by kingly charter, but by the freemen of America after they had won liberty and manhood. HOW HE FOUGHT THE TAX TYRANTS. 1 41 The king and his parliament kept playing away at their one tune — England must pay her debt, and America must help her. They couldn't very well try the stamp plan again, so they proposed a new form of taxation for America. "It won't amount to much," they said; "only about two hundred thousand dollars ; but every little helps, and if we can start in with a little tax successfully, we'll manage to make it big enough in time." And so they proposed the tax on tea and a few other things that set America into a blaze of wrath again ; — not because their tea was taxed, but because, if they agreed to let England levy one tax, there was no telling how many taxes might be added. Franklin, of course, was clever enough to see all this at once. He wrote and talked vigorously against the plan. It was all wrong, he knew; and he also knew that the Americans would not willingly submit to it. " I have some little property in America," he said ; " and I will freely spend ninety-nine cents out of every dollar to defend my right of giving or refusing the other cent." It was a question of right with him, you see, and not of dollars. Then he added, "And if, after all, I cannot defend that right, I will retire cheerfully with my little family into the boundless woods of America, which are sure to afford freedom and subsistence to any man who can bait a hook or pull a trigger." That was plucky, was it not? It w^as precisely what Washington said when, a 142 HOJF HE FOUGHT THE TAX TYRANTS. few years after, some timid men despaired of ever free- ing America from the power of England by a successful WHERE THE BOSTON MASSACRE OCCURRED. {Infrotit 0/ the Old State House, Boston.) But, as you know very well, Franklin's advice and warnings were not heeded. Obstinate Kino- Georcre erew HOW HE FOUGHT THE TAX TYRANTS. 1 43 more obstinate ; Parliament grew more determined. The new tax was decided upon. The colonists in America protested, petitioned, almost rebelled. British soldiers were sent across the sea to awe the Americans into submission. Their presence enraged the colonists ; for the colonists were not yet Americans ; they were still Englishmen, and they would not be treated as slaves. In 1770 a street fight in New York, and another in Boston, known as the famous Boston Massacre, showed to England the temper of America. The tax was re- sisted. The tea was thrown overboard in Boston harbor; it was hustled out of the way in New York. Resistance grew into rebellion. Virginia backed up Massachusetts, and the Carolinas shook hands with New York. " No tax- ation without representation ! " was again shouted through the colonies. Franklin felt very badly over these things. He loved England ; he loved America. He felt that, if the obsti- nate King George and his wicked advisers would try to accommodate instead of angering America, all trouble might be avoided, and the colonists continue to be loyal and helpful supporters of the British crown. But he knew, too, that any tax laid upon America would be resented by them. Resistance, he knew, must lead, as it did, to open trouble, perhaps to armed re- bellion ; and he knew, also, that America was as yet 144 ffOW HE FOUGHT THE TAX TYRANTS. but poorly fitted to withstand the mighty power of Eng- land. Once again he made the effort to interest the mer- chants and working-people of England, who depended largely for their living upon the trade with America. As the repeal of the Stamp Act had been brought about by making the English people see the harm it would do to English trade, so, as he saw he could do nothing with the politicians, he tried once more to make the people see that America w^as right and England wrong. He wrote many letters to the newspapers ; he pub- lished many pamphlets ; he talked and argued well ; and he raised a strong party in favor of America. But it w^as Parliament, and not the people, who set- tled things. There were many men in Parliament who cared more for money and position than they cared for justice, right, and honor. Many of these, indeed, were really friendly to America; but they were still more anxious to look out for number one, to keep in with the party in power and with their master, the stubborn King George. Some of them, too, were bought up, by money or the promise of office, to side with the ministers; and so, when matters came at last to a crisis, and the question of a tax was voted upon in Parliament, the king's side carried the day, and won by a large majority. The taxing of America was determined upon. So Franklin found that his appeals and his arguments HOW HE FOUGHT THE TAX TYJiANTS. 145 were of but little use. More than this ; he began to expe- rience once again in his life the insolence of tyranny. This grand old man found himself slighted, ignored, and insulted by those who were in power and who were " OBSTINATE KING GEORGE GREW MORE OBSTINATE." not worthy to stand in the presence of so great, so noble, and so wise a man. Soldiers fight in battle, boys and girls, and win great praise for glorious deeds, for courage and strength and 146 HOW HE FOUGHT THE TAX TYRANTS. bravery. But it is easier to stand shoulder to shoulder with comrades on the battle-field than to stand alone, un- moved, amid insult and ill-treatment. It is easier to strike than to talk, — to face a foeman on the battle-field than in what is called, ''good society." It was this last battle that Franklin was called upon to fight. He did it manfully. He never faltered. When the chance came to speak, he spoke, and spoke grandly. He fought the tax tyrants in their own place, both with tongue and pen. But it is hard work rolling a stone up hill, and to con- vince England when England was determined not to be convinced w^as the hardest kind of work. Franklin's countrymen, however, approved his labors and honored his acts. And well they might. There was no man better able than he to fight for their rights in England. They knew this, and they piled yet more work upon his willing shoulders. He was, as you know, the agent for Pennsylvania, sent over the sea to look after her interests in England. In the year 1768 the colony of Georgia asked Franklin to act as her agent in England. New Jersey followed suit with a like request in 1769; and, in 1770, his native colony of Massachusetts appointed him its agent in England. Suppose any one had told the Boston boy, when he was building that wharf in the minnow marsh, or when that runaway apprentice w^as hiding in the boat to get away from Boston, that, years after, the stern Bay Colony HOW HE FOUGHT THE TAX TYRANTS. 1 47 of Massachusetts would ask him to stand before kings and parliaments as her most honored agent and repre- sentative ! He would hardly have thought it possible, would he? But a self-made man, you see, finds all honors open to him. In the midst of these varying honors and trials, there came to Franklin, pluckily waging his war with wrong, a crowning impertinence and insult from his English foes. Franklin had always supposed that the idea of forcing America into submission by sending soldiers across the sea had come from the Parliament, or from the English kine and his ministers. He had no idea that so wicked a proposition could come from America. But there are always two sides to every question, you know, and wrong has its supporters just the same as right. In America there were many people who believed that really the king could do no wrong, and so they blindly sup- ported whatever he might order. Of course the leaders of this class, called the Tories, were the royal governors and the men appointed to office in America by the king or his favorites. Franklin knew this; but he did not believe that these people, however blind and selfish they might be, would advise cruelty or war towards Americans. But, one day, an Englishman with whom he was talking, in order to prove that this was the fact, put into Franklin's hands a lot of letters which had been sent to England by the royal 148 HOJV HE FOUGHT THE TAX TYRANTS. governor of Massachusetts — himself an American, — and others in office — British and Tories. These letters showed who was stirring up opposition to the tax tyranny in America, and advised and begged the king to send a strong army to America to frighten the colonists into submission. I can tell you that made Franklin angry. He would not believe it at first ; but he had to when he saw^ the letters, and at once he sent them, or copies of them, to the leaders of the people in Boston. Then there was a great time ! The people of Massa- chusetts wrote at once to England, asking that these offi- cials, who were trying to ruin the province, be changed at once, and men put in their places who would try to help rather than distress the Americans. When the king's ministers knew about this they looked around for some one to blame, and of course they picked out Franklin as the man who had made the trouble by sending the tell-tale letters back to Boston. They summoned him before the council; and their hired lawyer, a man named Wedderburn, for several hours did all he could by low, mean, wicked, and insulting lan- guage to rouse Franklin to "talk back," and get him to say something, when angry, that would lead to his im- prisonment and punishment. But he did not know Benjamin Franklin. For, though the whole council joined in saying by their actions, their HOW HE FOUGHT THE TAX TYRANTS. 149 laughter, and their applause, "Go ahead, Wedderburn! Hit him again! he has no friends here," Franklin stood before his tormentors cool, calm, and silent, answering never a word. It was a gentleman holding at bay by his dignity a pack of bullies. FRANKLIN AND WEDDERBURN. — "HE ANSWERED NEVER A WORD." He knew the intent of these so-called "gentlemen." He knew that the councillors of King George did not dare openly to arrest and punish him — the accredited agent of their colonies, the man they should have treated with courtesy and honor. He knew they meant to insult him and disgrace him, if they could, before all England; 150 now HE FOUGHT THE TAX TYRANTS. and, to such baseness, he knew very well, silence is the best and only manly reply. But this ungentlernanly treatment made those who were his friends still more friendly; it raised him yet higher in the esteem of his countrymen and of those in England who knew his real worth, and how easily he could have "downed" the insolent Wedderburn if he had wished to reply. One of these very Englishmen, a bright and witty man, saw this picture of "dignity and impudence," and wrote these lines: — " Sarcastic Sawney, swollen with spite and prate, On silent Franklin poured his venal hate. The calm philosopher, without reply, Withdrew — and gave his country liberty." It was a fine tribute to Franklin's manliness and cour- age, was it not ? But though silent under all this treatment, Franklin felt the insult keenly. For insult is always hard to bear. He wrote to a friend that " if he had not considered the thing for which he had been so much insulted as one of the best actions of his life, and one that, under the same circumstances, he should certainly do again, he could not have stood that impudent and abusive action." Two days after this outrageous treatment in the king's council, Franklin was deprived of his position as post- master-general of the American colonies. The king would HO IV HE FOUGHT THE TAX TYRANTS. 151 listen to no reasoning ; he meant to punish his wisest and most honest supporter, the only man who had ever made the colonial post-office self-supporting. He deprived Franklin of his position ; he made the bully Wedderburn a judge and a peer of the realm. But the American post- office ran down, and began to lose money at once after Franklin's dismissal; George the Third lived to recognize Benjamin Franklin as the highest commissioner and rep- resentative of the American republic; and Wedderburn died without a friend or a follower, dismissed by his mas- ter, King George, with the words, " He has not left a worse man behind him." Sometimes, you see, even true stories do come out all right. The true story of Benjamin Franklin is one that did. But for a while everything looked dark. A man who did not look on the bright side and get the best out of everything, as did Franklin, would have given up in de- spair. He had been insulted and maligned; he had lost his best position ; the favorites and followers of King George went out of their w^ay to make things as unpleas- ant as possible for good Doctor Franklin ; the royal gov- ernors of the American colonies, whose agent he was in England, delayed or stopped his salary ; the Tories and king's men tried to have him arrested and imprisoned as a traitor; and even cool-headed and justice-loving English- men looked upon him as the chief cause of the trouble in the colonies. 152 HOW HE FOUGHT THE TAX TYRANTS. This was enough to set any man to thinking that really he wasn't wanted, was it not? Franklin, although he had hosts of good friends in England, saw that the king and the king's men were bound to make things verv uncomfortable, and he began to get ready for a return to America. But just then word came across the sea to him that a Continental Congress in America was about to meet for debate and action, and he was asked to stay in Eng- land until he heard from the Congress. So he waited. And as he waited, unmoved by threat and unprovoked by insult, he kept up his work in behalf of a peaceful set- tlement, writing and talking to explain America's position, and begging honest Englishmen to pause before they threw away the love and loyalty of the American colonies. The Continental Congress met at Philadelphia in Sep- tember, 1774. It drew up an appeal to the king of Eng- land asking for justice to America. This, was sent to Franklin with the request that he lay it before King George. And this was the way it ended : " We most ear- nestly beseech your majesty that your royal authority and interposition may be used for our relief and that a gracious answer be given to this petition." You might as well beseech a bull-dog to give up his bone. The result would be the same — a trrowl and a o snap. There came no answer " gracious " or otherwise. Franklin was not allowed to see the king. The prime HO IV HE FOUGHT THE TAX TYRANTS. 1 53 minister took the petition, and promised that the king should see it. The king did see it, and sent it to the Parliament. There it lay unnoticed for days. Then it was read, treated with contempt and insolence by the Tory majority, and finally flung aside unanswered, with the re- mark that the American colonists were cow^ards and knaves, and deserved a good trouncing. Franklin saw that there was nothing more for him to do in England. The king and his men were bound to follow their own designs, and w^ould not listen to him. He longed to get back to America, and stand among his countrymen in their trouble and stress. But still he staid a little longer, trying to fix up things with those in power who were friendly to America, and even trying to show how matters might be " smoothed over." George the Third, king of England, would, however, hear of no such thing as smoothing over. ''America must be compelled to do what I and my Parliament demand," he said ; and Franklin, finding longer delay useless, sailed at last, on the twenty-first of March, 1775, to America, from which he had been absent for ten years. He had to embark secretly for fear of arrest, so strong against him had the hatred of the king's men grown. But almost the last thing he did was to give them a parting shot and a good lesson in his own peculiar way. It was just a day or two before he left that Franklin 154 HO IV HE FOUGHT l^HE TAX TYRANl'S. was at a dinner-party at the house of one of his English friends. They were talking about fables, and some one said it was not possible to think up a new fable ; ^sop had told them all. Then some one said : " How is it, Doctor ; can you think of a new one ? " there's a fable for you,' he said. " I don't know," replied the doctor. " If you'll lend me pen, ink, and paper, I'll try." He did so, and in a very few moments he said, " There's a fable for you." He called his fable "The Eagle and the Cat." It cer- tainly was a new one; and as the company listened, as some one read it aloud, they wondered anew at Franklin's readiness, wisdom, and wit. Here it is: — HO IV HE FOUGIJT THE TAX TYRANTS. I 55 "Once upon a time an eagle, scaling round a farmer's barn, and espying a hare, darted down upon him like a sunbeam, seized him in his claws, and remounted with him to the air. " He soon found that he had a creature of more courage and strength than a hare ; for which, notwithstanding the keenness of his eyesight, he had mistaken a cat. " The snarling and scrambling of his prey were very inconvenient ; and, what was worse, she had disengaged herself from his talons, grasped his body with her four limbs so as to stop his breath, and seized fast hold of his throat with her teeth. "'Pray,' said the eagle, 'let go your hold, and I will release you.' " * Very fine,' said the cat ; 'I have no fancy to fall down from this height and be crushed to death. You have taken me up, and you shall stoop and let me down.' "The eagle thought it necessary to stoop accordingly." Can you not see how the fable fitted the case of Eng- land and America? The eagle was soon to find that the cat's claws were quite as sharp as his own talons, and that when he found he had "tackled" a cat instead of a timid hare the situation would be changed. It was changed speedily; for, even before Franklin reached America, the cat had shown her claws, and the €agle had found them very sharp indeed. 156 HO IV HE SIGNED HIS NAME WITH A FIOURISH. CHAPTER IX. HOW HE SIGNED HIS NAME WITH A FLOURISH. REAT changes greeted Franklin when, after his ten years' absence, he again landed in Philadelphia, and walked up Market Street to his home. Great and sad changes many of these were. His good and devoted wife was dead; she had died suddenly, while the husband she so longed to see once more was sailing far across the sea to win a stubborn king to acts of friendliness and jus- tice. His much-loved and beautiful daughter, whom he had left a little girl, had married and gone from her father's home. Even that home, as he had known it, was changed. The old house, in which he had lived and struggled, had been replaced by a new one. His only son, made gov- ernor of New Jersey by his father's influence, had de- parted from his father's principles, and remained loyal to the king and hostile to the rising spirit of liberty. Penn- sylvania was in disturbance between the opposing forces of proprietors, Tories, and Liberty-men. The colonies were rent with clamor and feud ; Lexington and Concord had been fought ; blood had been spilled in the conflict be- tween independence and tyranny ; and while neither side HOW HE SIGNED HIS NAME WITH A FIOURISH 1 57 wished to bring about actual war, and each declared that the other had really begun the fight, an army of determined men held the British shut up in Boston, and peace was im- possible. It was a sad INDEPENDENCE HALL. {Old front, now rear.') home-coming for Franklin in many ways ; but, through his long life of sev- enty years, he had schooled himself to make the best of things, and to take griefs and disap- pointments, joy and victory, like a philosopher. He had hoped, even when he INDEPENDENCE HALL, PHILADELPHIA. (Old rear, now /roni, on Chestnut Street.) 158 HOW HE SIGNED HIS NAME WITH A FIOURISH left England, that the trouble between king and colonists misrht be arrangfed. But when he saw that war had come, he threw himself heart and soul into the struggle against oppression. His friends and supporters welcomed him joyfully. He was America's foremost man. For ten years he had labored in behalf of his native land ; in all that land no man was so loved or honored as he. Not one of the patriots of the American Revolution, whom we now re- vere and esteem, had at that day made a name or could show a record at all approaching that of Benjamin Frank- lin. His coming had been awaited with anxiety ; his advice was the one thing most desired. The very morning after his arrival he was appointed a delegate to the Continental Congress, which was called to meet that same month of May, 1775, in Philadelphia; the newspapers greeted him as " the friend of his country and mankind;" a new hotel or tavern had been named, in his honor, the Franklin Inn ; the people were ready and waiting for him. " With Franklin in America," they said, "the lovers of liberty need have no fear for the future." He was an old man as years go ; but he was young in energy, in spirit, in will, and in heart. He had grown so stout that he himself made fun of his fatness. His ruddy face was the picture of health and good cheer, of serenity, firmness, benevolence, shrewdness, and force. His great head was no longer covered by the big wig he once HOW HE SIGNED HIS NAME WITH A FLOURISH 1 59 had worn, but was crowned by his thin gray hair, unpow- dered, flowing, and without the queue, or pig-tail, that we see in so many revolutionary portraits and pictures. He was a fine talker, but a better listener; and when he did speak he said something worth hearing. His say- ings were remembered and quoted ; his suggestions in all matters — public, private, or scientific — were treasured as words of wisdom, good-sense, and helpfulness. The man who had been slighted and insulted in England was America's chief pride and greatest man. On the tenth of May, 1775, the Continental Congress met in what is now called Independence Hall in Phila- delphia, then known as the State House. The first Con- tinental Congress, whose petition to the king Franklin had presented in England, had met in what was known as Carpenter's Hall. If you go to the splendid city of Philadelphia to-day you can visit that very Carpenter's Hall, set back in a neat and grass-bordered court just off Chestnut Street, between Third and Fourth Streets. Then, if you go a little way up Chestnut Street, you will see, between Fifth and Sixth Streets, the ancient Hall of Con- gress, now famous through all the world as Independence Hall, — the building in which the Second Continental Congress adopted the Declaration of Independence, and in whose wooden cupola swung the historic liberty bell. That is where Benjamin Franklin took his seat as a member of Congress. l60 HO IV HE SIGNED HIS NAME WITH A FLOURISH. It took a year and more to get to the Declaration. Re- sistance had not yet blossomed into independence. But matters were working that way. One of the first things Franklin did was to vote to support the New England men in their defiance of King George, so boldly begun at Lexington and Concord. Then came the Act to make and issue Continental money for the support of the army, whose control and direction the Congress now assumed, and to the chief command of which they elected Colonel George Washington of Virginia, as " Captain- General and Commander-in-chief of the forces of the Thir- teen United Colonies." The Congress created a post-office department, and unanimously elected Benjamin Franklin as postmaster- general of the colonies — the very post which King George had so rudely taken from him. As postmaster-general Franklin had the privilege of sending his letters free of postage. When he had been postmaster-general for the king he had marked or as it is called, " franked " his letters, " Free. B. Franklin " ; but when he became postmaster-general for the colonies which were struggling for freedom, he wrote his ** frank" in this way — he dearly loved his little joke, you know : " B. free Franklin." Not bad, was it? He served on ten committees in the Congress, work- ing hard and speaking but little; with him just then it was, " Actions speak louder than words." But when the JIOIV HE SIGNED HIS NAME WITH A FLOURISH. l6l bloody battle of Bunker Hill had been fought, and it was seen the Continentals could bravely stand their ground a^rainst the trained soldiers of the king, Franklin knew PHOTOGRAPHED BY BALDWIN COOLIDGE. FRANKLIN AND THE COMMITTEE PRESENTING THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE TO THE PRESIDENT OF CONGRESS. ^Bronze bas-relief from Tru,nbuWs picture on pedestal of GreenougVs statne of Franklin, Boston.) that the hope of peace had gone; that the time for action had come. So in July, 1775- he introduced to the Con- gress his plan for the union and government of all the colonies of England, to continue until Great Britain had l62 BOW HE SIGNED HIS NAME WITH A FLOURISH stopped her tyranny, and had paid for the harm she had done. If England would not do that, he said, then let the colonies be an independent union forever. The plan was then considered what you boys call " a little previous." But one year later it blossomed into the Declaration of Independence, which separated forever the American colonies from the British crown. So Franklin, you see, was first in the field with any movement of progress. This was the time, too, soon after the Battle of Bunker Hill, that Franklin wrote a famous double-meaning letter, though he was serious enough about it. He wrote it to his friend Mr. Strahan, an Englishman with whom he had always been in- timate, and wdiose son, at one time, he thought might become his own son-in-law. This is the way the letter ran. Read the closing words very carefully : — Philadelphia, July 5, 1775. Mr. Strahan, — You are a member of Parliament and one of that majority whicli has doomed my Country to Destruction. You have begun to burn our Towns, and murder our People. Look upon your Hands ! They are stained with the Blood of your Rela- tions ! You and I were long Friends: — You are now my Enemy, — and I am, Yours, B. Franklin. HE WROTE MR. STRAHAN A FAMOUS LETTER." HO IV HE SIGNED HIS NAME WITH A FIOURISH 1 63 Do you suppose Mr. Strahan read that " Yours, B. Franklin," both ways ? Besides his ten committees in Congress, Franklin had other official duties. As you know, he was postmaster- general of the colonies ; and although not many people wrote letters in those days, still Franklin found plenty to do in making it easier for letters to be sent about the country. He was chairman of the Committee of Safety for the province of Pennsylvania, and had to see that men were found for the protection and defence of the colony in case the English government should send soldiers against Pennsylvania, as it had against Massachusetts. He was a member of the Pennsylvania Assembly, and had to take his part in the duties of that body. And yet he found time for other things. He got up an arrangement of great spiked timbers sunk in the river to obstruct the passage of the Delaware, and keep the Brit- ish ships from coming up to Philadelphia ; he designed and built a fleet of open gunboats, or row-galleys as they were called; and all the time he preached to the people " frugality and economy," if they wished to be able to set up for themselves, and successfully resist the mighty power of England. In the fall of 1775 he was one of a committee of Con- gress to visit and confer with General Washington at the camp in Cambridge. As you stand to-day in front of that fine old Craigie house on Brattle Street, in Cambridge, 164 HOir HE SIGNED HIS NAME WITH A EIOURISH. equally precious to all Americans as the headquarters of Washington and the home of Longfellow, it is not hard to picture to yourself those two grand Americans of the early days, Washington and Franklin, seated in the room to the left of the front door (it was afterwards Longfel- WASHINGTON AND FRANKLIN CONFERRING, AT THE CRAIGIE HOUSE, CAMBRIDGE. low's study) planning for the gathering of a continental army for the defence of the liberties of America. For, by this time, Benjamin Franklin had gone as far in rebellion as John or Samuel Adams, or Patrick Henry, or any of the most earnest advocates of American inde- pendence. He had thrown off all allegiance to King George of England as his lawful sovereign, and had begun BOW HE SIGNED HIS NAME WITH A FLOURISH. 165 by letters and secret agents to secure for the rebellious colonies the assistance of England's chief enemies in Europe — France, Spain, and Holland. In the spring of 1776 he was one of a committee of Congress, called Commissioners, to go to Canada, after the defeat of the Ameri- cans before Quebec, and the sad death of their leader, General Mont- gomery. This Commit- tee was sent to straighten out the Canadian mud- dle, and to try to get Canada to join the other colonies in their revolt against England. It was a hard, cold journey for an old man (_N(nu in Indepetidence Hall, Philadelphia.) ^C cp\7'Pnt\7' * foT* 1 1" 'Wn c; a good five hundred miles from Philadelphia to Montreal, and there were none of the comforts of travelling in those days, you know. But Franklin did his part with the rest, only to find that they were too late. The British force at Quebec had been strengthened, the little American army was compelled to retreat, and Canada refused to join the union, but cast in her lot with England, to remain loyal to the British crown even to this day. ^^^ THE LIBERTY BELL, WHICH FRANKLIN SET A-RINGING. 1 66 BOJV HE SIGNED HIS NAME WITH A FLOURISH. In the summer of 1776 Franklin was back again in Philadelphia, occupying his seat in the Congress. He was a member of the Pennsylvania convention which over- threw forever the proprietorship of the Penn family and renounced all allegiance to the English king. This was speedily followed, in the Continental Congress, by that great and glorious service to liberty and mankind, when Benjamin Franklin was appointed one of a committee of five to draw up and present to the Congress the immortal Declaration of Independence. His share in the preparation of this great document was more in the way of suggestion and advice than of actual composition. The Declaration of Independence was, you know, wTitten by Thomas Jefferson. He WTOte it in the house where he lodged on the corner of Seventh and Market Streets, in the city of Philadelphia. To-day, in a bank building on that very corner, is set a bronze tablet to commemorate the event. There Franklin visited him ; and we can picture the big, quiet, genial-faced old phi- losopher sitting in the high-backed easy-chair, listening, suggesting, approving, while " the father of the Declara- tion," as men call Thomas Jefferson, read to the doctor his draft of that wonderful paper.^ How Franklin must have enjoyed it all, and how his eyes must have glistened with satisfaction as Jefferson read the chief points in the in- dictment against George, king of England " a prince whose ^ See Frontispiece. SOME OF franklin's FELLOW-WORKERS FOR LIBERTY. Patrick Henry of Virginia. {,The Champion of Independence). John Hancock of Massachusetts. ( The President of the Continerital Congrea) Samuel Adams of Massachusetts. {T/ie Father of the Revolution.) James Monroe of Virginia. {Author of the "Monroe Doctrine,'''') John Marshall of Virginia. ( Tlie Great Chief Justice.) HO IV HE SIGNED HIS NAME WITH A FLOURISH, 169 character is marked by every act which may define a ty- rant, unfit to be the ruler of a free people." How his voice must have echoed with a hearty " amen " those ring- ing words in which the Declaration declared : " that these united colonies are, and of right ought to be. Free and Independent States ; that they are absolved from all alle- giance to the British crown, and that all political connec- tion between them and the state of Great Britain is and ought to be totally dissolved." It is claimed by some that it was a good thing that Franklin did not really write the Declaration. For this cheerful philosopher would always see the funny side of things as well as the serious side; and in such a solemn paper as the Declaration of Independence, there could be no place for any of his witty remarks. He would always have his joke, even in those serious sessions of a very serious Congress; and Mr. Parton, one of his biographers, declares that Franklin, ''a humorist of fifty years stand- ing, would have put a joke even into the Declaration of Independence, if it had fallen to his lot to write that im- mortal document." At last, after weeks of discussion, of consultation, and of deliberation, the great paper was accepted; and on the Fourth of July, 1776, adopted and given to the world by Congress. The liberty bell in the cupola rang out the glad news, the people heard and shouted, and then was born the United States of America. lyO HOW HE SIGNED HIS NAME WITH A FLOURISH One by one the members of the Congress signed the famous paper, and made their names household words for all time to come. Franklin signed his name with a flourish as great as his delight; and when John Hancock, president of the Congress, whose bold signature is familiar to every boy and girl, said to his associates, "we must be unanimous; there must be no pulling different ways ; we must all hang together," Franklin, taking the pen, said, with a twinkle in his eye, "That's so, John; we must indeed all hang to- gether, or, most assuredly, we shall all hang separately." Even in the face of danger, you see, he could be jolly. For Benjamin Franklin was a cheerful old soul, always bubbling over with fun ; he could make sport even of personal danger, and was as quick to see the sunny and humorous side of life as he was to see its deep and seri- ous side. He had experienced both, you kno\v. He was experiencing the latter even at that time. For^ while he was expending the strength and energy of his life at seventy in pushing through the independence of America, his only son, whom he had so helped and ad- vanced in the world, the one wdio had stood beside him under the dripping cowshed that day when the philoso- pher had drawn the lightning from the sky, had become a Tory of the Tories, an open enemy of the great cause in which his father was so involved, and a prisoner in the hands of those he called " rebels," saved only from pun- HOJV HE SIGNED HIS NAME WITH A ELOURISH 1 71 ishment and disgrace by the love which the new nation bore to his revered and honored father. FRANKLIN SIGNS THE DECLARATION — "'THAT'S SO, JOHN,' HE SAID, WITH A TWINKLE IN HIS EYE." The defection and conduct of Governor William Frank- lin of New Jersey w^as a sore spot in the patriotic heart 172 BOJV HE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE SECOND TIME. of Benjamin Franklin. It was the one thing which the kind and forgiving man could not overlook or excuse, and which he did not, even to the day of his death. So strong was Franklin's devotion to the cause of liberty, for which he had labored night and day, and for which he stood ready, if the call should come, to give up even life itself! CHAPTER X. HOW HE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE SECOND TIME. N a certain November day of 1775, a little lame Frenchman called upon Doctor Franklin in his Committee room at Carpenters' Hall. He was the writer of several very mysterious letters to Congress that told nothing, but simply asked for an opportunity to de- liver to Congress a secret and most important message. So, at last, Franklin was asked to see him, in company with two other members of Congress, Jefferson and Jay. His message was a startling one. It was that, when- ever the Americans needed arms, ammunition, ships, or money, France would gladly supply them. The committee thought at first that their visitor was what to-day we call a crank. They asked him who had sent him, who had given him authority to deliver such HOW HE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE SECOND TIME. 1 73 a message, and whether he had any written introduction or credentials to show who he was. The little French stranger only shrugged his shoulders in true French style, made the dreadfully significant move- ment of drawing his hand across his throat, and said, ^^ Gentlemen, I shall take care of my head." THE LITTLE LAME FRENCHMAN. — " THEY ASKED HIM WHO HAD SENT HIM." Then he bowed himself out of the room, and was never seen agam, That reads almost like one of Grimm's fairy stories, or a ''to be continued" adventure tale, does it not? But it was a true happening, and was one of the causes that led Benjamin Franklin, in his seventieth year, once more 174 ^OW BE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE SECOND TIME. to cross the sea, and enabled him to save his country a second time. For the visit of this mysterious stranger to the com- mittee room in Carpenters' Hall set Franklin and the Congress to thinking. And while they were not sure that their visitor was "all right in his upper story," they still thought he might be a secret messenger from France, and so they began sounding ''their friends abroad." A Committee of Correspondence, of which Franklin was a member, was formed to write secret letters to friends of the colonies in Great Britain and Ireland, "and other parts of the world." This last, of course, meant France; and Franklin was the hardest worked member of this secret committee. Nothing came of this for several months; but at last, in the summer of 1776, Franklin received from one of his friends in Paris a letter which made him very happy. The letter was a long one, and told him that certain en- thusiastic French friends of America had made it pos- sible to get help from France, in the way of muskets and cannon, officers of the army, and other "supplies," with the secret approval of the French government, for the use of the Americans in their fight with England. This sounded like business. It showed Franklin that France would be glad of an opportunity to " pay back " her old enemy England for the defeats in America in the days when France and England were struggling for pos- HOW BE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE SECOND TIME. 1 75 session. It braced up the disheartened American leaders, after the coming of the Hessians and the sorry defeat on Long Island; it set Congress to planning and doing; and, as a result, three Americans, called commissioners, were sent to France to try to get the real support of France by making what is called an alliance between that nation and the American '* rebels." Franklin was unanimously elected as the leading mem- ber of this Commission. He was not surprised. He felt that such an appoint- ment w^as coming. But he was an old man to undertake so important a mission. Still, he was ready to do any- thing in his power for the service of his country; and when he was elected, he said to his friend Dr. Rush, who sat next to him in the Congress, " I am old, and good for nothing ; but, as the store-keepers say of their remnants of cloth, I am but a fag end, and you can have me for what you please." And so it came to pass that, in his seventieth year, Benjamin Franklin was sent over the sea to get the French king and court to really help America. Do you know who that king was ? It was young Louis the Sixteenth, the gentle, lovable, weak, and timid king of France, who, years after, was to lose his crown and his head because the French nation, spurred on by the very liberty that Franklin preached and America prac- tised, themselves set up a republic, but not having the iy6 HOW HE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE SECOND TIME. good sense and great heart that both Franklin and Amer- ica possessed, made a wreck of their possibilities, and drenched a splendid endeavor with blood and tears. There are two ways of doing a thing, you know ; and France tried the wrong way. But no one thought about that wrong way when on the twenty-seventh of October, 1776, Franklin set sail for France. He had to embark stealthily, just as he had run away from Boston so many years before. For it was very important that England should not know of what was going on. So, late on that October day, Franklin and his two grandsons — a boy of seventeen and a boy of seven — stole on board the swift sloop of war Reprisal, which was waiting for them in the Delaware, and slipped off for sea and for France. And almost the last thing Franklin did before leaving his native land — as he felt, perhaps for the last time — was to gather all the money of his own that he could collect from different investments, some twenty thousand dollars in all, and lend it to the hard-pressed Congress, then sorely in need of ready money. That showed his faith in the cause. That was patriotism ! The old Doctor and the two boys had an exciting voy- age. The elder of the two grandsons kept a journal, but it is almost as uncommunicative as the one Mark Twain tells of, in which a modern boy gave each day's hap- HOW HE SAVED THE COUNTRY 'THE SECOND TIME. 1 77 penings as follows: "got up, washed, went to bed." Those boys had adventures enough to make a story. They dodsred the English cruisers which were close at their heels ; twice or more they " cleared for action," but got off without fight ; they faced great seas, buffeted the storms, and just escaped shipwreck; they took two English ves- sels as prizes, and, — just think of it! — had Benjamin Franklin as their travelling companion, to teach them French, study the temperature of the ocean and find out about the Gulf Stream — which was one of his discov- eries. They sighted the French coast off Quiberon Bay, came to anchor in the mouth of the Loire, and were transferred to a small fishing-boat which took them ashore to a miserable little fishing-village. There they got some sort of a car- riage, and drove by night across a lonesome country and through a robber-infested forest until they came to the city of Nantes on the river Loire, famous for a celebrated proc- lamation by one of the greatest of French kings, of which you will some day read in history — the Edict of Nantes, "the charter of religious liberty" in France. It was a fit- ting place for Franklin, the " advance agent " of liberty, to appear in France, — in France, the home of Lafayette. The poor old man was weak and ill in body from his perilous sea-voyage and his hard landing; but he was strong and well in spirits, and as full of pluck as ever, and, after a good rest, was ag-ain in excellent trim. 1 78 HO IV BE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE SECOND TIME. Then he began to get some idea of the way in which he was esteemed in France. The "friends of America" in Nantes gave him a great dinner; crowds came to look at him ; and when, at last, he started for Paris, three hundred miles away, he knew that France \\' a s friendly. S o, a t last, he reached Paris. At once he became the most popular man in that great, pleasure- loving city. People talked about the great American phi- losopher who had come to town ; they crowded to see him, they spread abroad his fame and his wise and witty say- ings, and became enthusiastic in behalf of American lib- erty. How those two grandsons must have enjoyed it, mustn't they? Their grandfather, '• le grand Franklin " as the French THE MARQUIS DE LAFAYETTE, BELOVED BY WASHINGTON AND FRANKLIN AND ALL AMERICA. BOJV HE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE SECOND TIME. 1 79 people called him, was indeed a marked figure in gay and fashionable Paris. His very plainness and simplicity of dress in an age of ruffles and laces and powder, and velvet and diamonds and gold, gave him prominence. " Figure me, in your mind," he wrote to a friend, " as jolly as formerly, and as strong and hearty, only a few years older; very plainly dressed, wearing very thin gray straight hair, that peeps out under a fine fur cap which curves down on my forehead almost to my spectacles. Think how this must appear among the powdered heads of Paris ! " But, as I have told you, this very simplicity of dress set off the natural grandeur of this noble old man, and set all Paris to talking of him. " Even before he began to negotiate," says a German writer, "his appearance in Paris was an event of great importance to the whole of Europe." You read to-day, you know, of " the latest Paris fashions." Franklin became the ** fashion" in Paris; and one French writer tells us, '' Happy was he who could gain admittance to see this venerable old man in the house which he occupied." The candle-maker's son had become " the fad " in France. England was very angry. Such a reception to " a rebel " was an insult to England. ** The presence of Franklin in France," said one of the ministers of King George," "is much more than a balance for the few addi- tional acres which the English have gained by the con- l80 HO IV HE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE SECOXD TIME. quest of Manhattan Island." So, you see, Franklin's safe arrival in France and his welcome there were as good as a big victory for the American cause. People made w^ay for him in the street, as if he were some great prince; they followed and cheered him as if he w^re a successful general; his picture was everywhere, — in store windows, on snuff-boxes, handkerchiefs, and prints, **so that," he WTote to his daughter in America, "your father's face is as well known as that of the man in the moon ; and he durst not do anything that would oblige him to run away, as his phiz would discover him wherever he should venture to show it." England's anger, indeed, was Franklin's best advertise- ment ; and, as he had been a successful newspaper man, he knew the value of such advertising. So he grew more popular every day; and his name, so his associate John Adams of Massachusetts tells us, "was familiar to govern- ment and people, to kings, courtiers, nobility, clergy, and philosophers, so that there was scarcely a peasant or a cit- izen who did not consider him a friend to humankind." This was all very fine, and was at once a triumph for America and for America's representative, the Phila- delphia printer; but it interfered with business. All this rush and excitement kept him from his work ; and at last he went to live in a grand country house, or chateau, called the Hotel de Valentinais. It was just outside of Paris, in a suburb called Passy, and was placed at his HOW HE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE SECOND TIME. l8l service without rent by its owner, a rich Frenchman named de Chaumont, an admirer of Doctor Franklin and a friend of America. Here, as the envoy and ambassador of the revolted col- onies and the new republic across the seas, Franklin lived for several years, in the midst of parks and mansions ; and y" ^\- '-.' •S 1 .vi*-' ■■; ^^' .'i i^irll^^^^^^^^ THE HOTEL DE VALENTINAIS, AT PASSY. COMMONLY KNOWN AS THE CHATEAU DE CHAUMONT. THE HOME OF FRANKLIN IN FRANCE. {Redrawn from an old print). here he set to work at his great task of winning France's help for America. In spite of his popularity and his great fame, this was no easy task. Franklin was not the only American envoy in France. Two others had been associated with him, and there were certain other " agents," whose duty lay 1 82 no IV HE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE SECOND TIME. elsewhere ; but these all met at Paris, or in Franklin's home at Passy, and their discussions, jealousies, mistakes, imprudent acts, and political secrets, called diplomacy, led to quarrels and wordy wars, in which Franklin was the only one who kept his peace, his tongue, and his good sense. The French people wished to help America ; but the king of France and his chief advisers did not desire to get into war with England, and had to put off the en- voys with promises, secret loans of money, and things " done," as we say, " on the sly." What with their cau- tion, — for the war in America went so steadily against Washington and the Continental troops that only a few had faith in the final triumph of the Americans, — and what with the incautious acts and words of the American envoys, the chief minister of King Louis was nearly out of his wits, and could trust no one and rely upon no one but Franklin. Indeed, after the dark days had passed, and the thing had really been settled, he wrote to the representative whom the French king had sent to Amer- ica: "As to Doctor Franklin, his conduct leaves Congress nothing to desire. It is as zealous and patriotic as it is wise and circumspect ; " and then he went on to say that they could trust Franklin's methods rather than those of his associates in France, '* to whom," he said, ** we can give neither credence nor value, and whose menaces make them personally disagreeable." BOJV HE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE SECOND TIME. 1 83 So, you see, if it had not been for Franklin's presence in France, and the way in which he acted and attended to his country's affairs, the French alliance, upon which so much depended, and w'hich really hastened the suc- cessful close of the Revolution, might never have been arranged. His work in France, and the ends which he accomplished, really gave independence to America ; and thus he saved his country a second time. The work he did was very great. He wrote and talked so cheerfully, even in the darkest of America's days of stress, that he continually brought hope to the friends and fear to the enemies of the United States. He kept the French people enthusiastic in behalf of the American cause; he persuaded the king and his ministers that it was really their duty to help the Americans ; he carried through the treaty of ' alliance in the winter of 1777, by which France agreed to help the Americans against Eng- land ; he prevailed upon them to send the news of this across the sea in a French war-vessel, as a proof of their open sincerity; he signed for the United States the great paper that bound the two countries, France and America, together for mutual friendship and defence ; and at last, on the sixth of February, 1778, was formally received, with his two associates, by King Louis at his palace at Versailles, when, through them, the United States was officially recognized as a separate and independent na- tion. 184 ^-^OIV HE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE SECOND TIME. Money is the chief thing needed, next to patriotism, to carry on a war. Indeed, without money, even patriotism must fail; for men must live, and armies must be sup- ported. Money, you know, is called " the sinews of war." THE TREATY OF ALLIANCE. — "HE SIGNED FOR THE UNITED STATES." The success of Franklin in obtaining money from France for use in America was extraordinary. France at that time was in great stress and deeply in debt herself; the minister of King Louis who had charge of the finances of France — the treasury, as it is called — fought this money HO IV HE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE SECOND TIME. 1 85 help to America " tooth and nail ; " and yet, in face of the bankruptcy of France and the opposition of the min- ister of finance, Franklin secured from the French gov- ernment as loans or as gifts over six millions of dollars (thirty million francs). He did much to encourage and help the French offi- cers who were anxious *to join the American army. He corresponded with the brave young Marquis de Lafayette; and when that determined boy of nineteen really escaped the watchfulness of his king, his friends, and the British detectives, and ran across the sea to America, Franklin, though he had openly tried to dissuade him, secretly re- joiced, and wrote at once to the Congress, ** He is exceed- ingly beloved, and everybody's good wishes attend him. Those who conceive his departure as imprudent do never- theless applaud his spirit; and we are satisfied that the civilities and respect that may be shown him will be ser- viceable to our affairs here, as pleasing not only to his powerful relations and to the court, but to the whole French nation." And when Lafayette, always dear to the American people, in 1779 came back to France on leave of absence to consult with the king of France as to his duty, because war had been declared against France by England, it was most fitting that he should be chosen by Congress as the bearer of the commission which appointed Benja- min Franklin '* sole plenipotentiary of the United States 1 86 HOW HE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE SECOND TIME. to the court of France" — in other words, the first Amer- ican minister to France. The steadfast and patriotic doctor had now neither zealous associate nor secret rival. He had all the say. He was " director and con- troller of his coun- try's affairs in the continent of Europe,, naval, commercial, financial, and politi- cal." It was a great triumph for his abil- ity, his good sense, his unwavering faith, and his simple integ- rity. He was now more popular than ever in France ; he was fa- mous throughout all Europe ; there was no American that Kinor Georofe of Eno^land more feared or hated ; there was none who could so well succeed, as he did, in advancing the interests of his native land abroad. That famous American captain and prince of privateers, Jul IN TALL JdNES. (^Commander of the ''''Bon Hoiiivie Richard,'" victor oz>er the " Serapis.''') THE MESSENGER FROM AMERICA. — "ALMOST BEFORE YOUNG MR. AUSTIN WAS OUT OF HIS CARRIAGE, FRANKLIN WAS AT THE DOOR," HOW HE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE SECOND TIME. 1 89 John Paul Jones, whose life is as interesting as a story- book, when at last he secured from the French government the gift of a great man-of-war, renamed the vessel at once, " Bon Homme Richard," in honor of Dr. Franklin who, you know, w^as famous because of his almanac sayings as ''Poor Richard;" and "Good Man Richard" is what the name of Captain Paul Jones's famous forty-gun frigate means. You know the story of the great and glorious sea- fight between the Bon Homme Richard and the English war-vessel Serapis. If you do not, you should read it at once, for it is one of the most famous sea-fights in the history of the world ; and for this victory Franklin was largely responsible. One November day in 1777, long before Franklin had been made American minister, a carriage drove rapidly out from Paris into Passy, and drew up in the court of Monsieur de Chaumout's splendid chateau. A young man sprang out. He was young Mr. Austin of Boston, bearer of despatches from the Congress of the United States to the American envoys in France. Franklin and his asso- ciates hurried out to meet the messenger, for they had already heard that one was on the way. Austin had come quickly — only thirty-two days from America. He came at a dark moment. Everything had been going wrong for America ; and the last the envoys had heard was that Washington was retreating in Pennsylvania, and that a British army from Canada, under the brave Gen- 190 I/OJV HE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE SECOND TIME. eral Burgoyne, had invaded New York. Franklin feared the worst. Almost before young Mr. Austin was out of his car- riage, Franklin was at the door. ** Sir," cried the old man, thinking of his home, " is Phila- delphia taken ? " "Yes, sir," the young man replied, "it is." Frankli n sai d nothing. He clasped his hands in silent sorrow, and turned as if to go into the house." "Wait, Doctor," the young bearer of despatches called out. " Philadelphia is taken, but I have greater news than that. General Burgoyne and his whole army are prisoners of war ! " Then how glad they were. The new^s was inspiring. It changed the whole condition of affairs ; for upon this suc- GENERAL BURGOYNE, THE BRITISH COMMANDER, WHOSE CAPTURE AT SARATOGA LED TO THE ALLIANCE WITH FRANCE. HOW HE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE SECOND TIME. I9I cess Franklin built his new appeal. France was aroused to action, and the treaty of alliance with the United States was drawn up and signed. And Franklin never forgot that young bearer of despatches. "Oh, Mr. Austin, you brought us glorious news ! " he would break out again and again. He gave the young man a fine time in Paris, and obtained for him important and honorable duty as special commissioner for America. It was the turning- point in France. The French troops sailed over the sea. Yorktown was won. Cornwallis surrendered. The war was at an end. America was free. Franklin, worn and tired out, an old man of seventy-five years, broken by his great responsi- bility and labors, wished to retire from the services which had well nigh broken him down. " I have been engaged in public affairs," he wrote to the Congress, " and enjoyed public confidence in some shape or other, during the long term of fifty years, an honor sufficient to satisfy any reasonable ambition ; I have no other left but that of repose, which I hope the Con- gress will grant me by sending some person to supply my place. At the same time I beg them to be assured that it is not with the least doubt of their success in the glorious cause, nor any disgust received in their service, that induces me to decline it, but purely and simply the reason I have mentioned." But America could not spare him from duty in France, 192 BOW HE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE SECOND TIME. even when he pleaded sickness and old age. For now the end of the war was at hand ; now came the hardest task of all, — to arrange a lasting peace between the two nations, Great Britain and the United States. PHOTOGRAPHCD BY BALDWIN COOLIDGE. SIGNING THE TREATY OF PEACE. (Bas-relief on the pedestal oj GreenougVs Statue of Frank/in, in /ro?tt fif the City Hall, Boston.) It was arranged at last. After long discussions, and longer delays, after obstinate objections from England and sweeping demands from America, and frequent criti- cisms by France, the final treaty of peace was drawn up HOW HE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE SECOND TIME. 193 and signed at Paris, on the thiid of September, 1783. Con- gress in January, and the king of England in April, 1784, accepted, or, as it is called, ratified the treaty, and America was free at last. Then once more Franklin begged to be relieved from duty; and at last, in March, 1785, Congress voted to per- mit ''the Honorable Benjamin Franklin, Esquire, to return to America as soon as convenient," and appointed Thomas Jefferson to succeed him as American Minister to the French Court, — honoring thus the two "heroes" of the Declaration of Independence. " You replace Doctor Franklin, I hear," said the chief minister of King Louis of France, when Mr. Jefferson was introduced to him at the Court. " Sir," said Jefferson with a bow, " I succeed Doctor Franklin. No one can replace him." Which was a very kindly and courteous way of com- plimenting the great man who had carried the affairs of America to success in the troublesome times before the French Alliance. Do you not think so ? 194 HOW HE BECAME PRESIDENT OF PENNSYLVANIA. CHAPTER XI. HOW HE BECAME PRESIDENT OF PENNSYLVANIA. HEN at last the time came for Franklin to say good-by to France, and return to America, the French people were very sorry indeed to have him go, and they said good-by grandly. Here was no stealing away quietly for fear of hostile cruisers or watchful detectives. He left France in fine style. The king sent his portrait, decorated with four hundred diamonds ; the queen sent her litter, slung be- tween two sure-footed mules, so that the pain-racked Franklin — for he was now far from well — might travel in comfort; the chief minister of King Louis, the man through whom and in spite of whom Franklin had won for America the aid of France, bade him the friendliest of farewells ; friends and neighbors, noble and peasant, high and low, came out to do him honor as he made his slow progress from Passy to the sea ; great houses were opetied to receive him at meals or over night; it was like the progress of a prince through his dominions. More than this, after he had got into British waters (for his ship was to sail from an English port), the Brit-- HO IV HE BECAME PRESIDENT OE PENNSYLVANIA. 1 95 ish government, his long and bitter enemy, hastened to do him honor, passed his goods and baggage through the English custom house without examination, and was as attentive and friendly as could be. IN THE queen's LITTER — "IT WAS LIKE THE PROGRESS OF A PRINCE. 'Old friends in England, who had not seen him for years, crowded about him at Southampton. His son, the Tory governor, now an exile from victorious America, hur- ried to see him ; and father and son, with a return of the old affection, embraced, and partly forgave each other. 10)6 BOW HE BECAME PRESIDENT OF PENNSYLVANIA. Thus, amid tears and good-bys, Franklin sailed away to America. He had captured France; he had captured England. Both nations were his admirers and his friends ; both saw him sail across the western ocean with reo;ret and affection. You would think that, old, sick, and weary as he was, Franklin would have simply rested during the homeward voyage. But he couldn't. His health improved during his travels, and this wonderful old man put his spare time to good account in observing and improving things. He wrote three long and valuable essays in explanation of three important things : How to sail vessels, How to cure smoky chimneys. How to make a stove burn its own smoke. Besides this, he studied further into his theory of the Gulf Stream, and discussed all sorts of things with the captain of the ship, Thomas Truxton, afterwards one of America's naval heroes. Did you ever hear or read of a livelier old man of eighty? At last the voyage was ended ; and on the fourteenth of September, 1785, Benjamin Franklin, the great Ameri- can, landed in the midst of a shouting and jubilant crowd of his welcoming fellow-citizens, at that very same Mar- ket Street wharf in Philadelphia upon wdiich, sixty-two years before, he had landed poor, homeless, friendless, and seedy, a runaway apprentice boy, alone in the world. Is there a prince in all your fairy tales, or a hero in all your story-books, whose romance can equal this true THE RETURN OF FRANKLIN -"HE LANDED IN THE MIDST OF A SHOUTING, JUBILANT CROWD."' HOW HE BECAME PRESIDENT OE PENNSYLVANIA. 199 and wonderful story of Benjamin Franklin? I know of none. Philadelphia turned out to Avelcome him. Escorted in style to his very door, crowned with honors, loved and revered by all, Franklin had come back to his own again. '' Found my family well," he said in his diary ; " God be thanked and praised for all his mercies." He was just as simple, just as unspoiled, just the same natural, big- hearted, friendly Benjamin Franklin as ever. Societies, colleges, assemblies, political bodies, and pri- vate persons sent him addresses of welcome ; and Wash- ington wTote to him, "As no one entertains more respect for your character, so no one can salute you with more sincerity or w^ith greater pleasure than I do on this occasion." He was glad to be at home once more ; health and strength seemed to return to him. He sometimes forgot, he said, that he was an old man ; he talked of making a trip to New York, and even hoped to see his "beloved Boston." He was as merry, as cheerful, as bright, as clear-eyed, and as strong-voiced as ever, and he simply couldn't keep still. His fellow-citizens did not mean that he should. The new State of Pennsylvania was in political struggles, and people said that Doctor Franklin was the only man to set things straight. At once he was elected Chairman of the City Council ; and when the election for governor of 200 HOW HE BECAME PRESIDENT OF PENNSYLVANIA. the State, or as it was then called, President of Pennsyl- vania, came about, he was elected by every vote save one, and probably that one was his own. He said he had had enough of politics and of public life ; he wished to spend the rest of his days in study and in the company of his friends and his family ; he was old, he said ; let younger men take the lead. But the people prevailed. Entreaties came to him not only from his fellow-citizens, but from the citizens of other States, who felt as did Franklin's old associate John Jay: "If you cannot restore harmony to Pennsylvania," he wTote, " I do not know who can. And if you do ac- complish it, much honor and many blessings will result." So Franklin, though nearly eighty years old, was pre- vailed upon to serve his State as president. " I have not firmness enough," he said to Doctor Cooper, one of his friends, " to resist the unanimous desire of my country- folks, 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." "Well, Doctor," replied the friend to whom he made this funny speech ; " they show their good taste ; for, don't you know what they say — 'the nearer the bone the sweeter the meat.' " And I don't doubt that Franklin laughed long over this capital answer from his friend. HOW HE BECAME PRESIDENT OF PENNSYLVANIA. 20I But Franklin, modest and simple though he was, did dearly love to be at the head of things; and though this new office was a good deal for so old a man to under- take, still he seems to have taken hold of it cheerfully and willingly. He w^as escorted to the State House on Inauguration day in great style. Consta- bles with their staves, sheriffs with their wands, judges and marshals and high officers of State, the " sergeant at arms with his mace," professors of the college, clerks and secre- taries, the members of the assembly *' two and two," sol- diers, citizens, music and cheers — these filled the streets of Philadelphia, escorting and honoring the first President of Pennsylvania, — quite a dif- ferent entry from that of the runaway apprentice- boy, munch- ing rolls, was it not ? He made a good president, of course. His wisdom and moderation smoothed down the political rivalries and jealousies of the opposing parties — there always are two parties in politics as in ball games, you know; and while THE NEARER THE BONE THE SWEETER THE MEAT." 202 HOW HE BECAME PRESIDEN2' OF PEXNSYLVANL4. he did not have to work very hard, his presence in the ruler's chair gave strength and success to his administra- tion, and things ran ' along smoothly and delightfully. Under President Benjamin Franklin the State of Penn- sylvania was peaceful, prosperous, and happy. He would not take any salary. The amount voted for that purpose he turned over at once for public needs. He said he had enough for his wants, and did not think that offices of honor, such as that of mayor, governor or president, should, in a republic, be money-making posi- tions. He continued his gifts in other ways. He helped many struggling schools and colleges, doing good with his money in just such practical and helpful ways as you would expect in a man like him. People have called Franklin stingy and penny-wise. They are wrong. The man who so readily helps on young men, and aids col- leges, is not stingy ; the man who could lend all his ready money to a struggling and uncertain government, as did he in the dark hours of the Revolution, is certainly not penny-wise. Franklin knew how to place his money where it would do — not himself, but humanity — the most good, and thus it did him fjood too. He dearly enjoyed his home life at this time, also, in his big house on Market Street. I hunted up the site of that house once when I was on a "Franklin hunt" in Philadelphia — that comfortable HOJV HE BECAME PRESIDENT OF PENNSYLVANIA. 203 house, standing in the midst of trees and lawns and flowering shrubs, which his wife Deborah had built while he was away in Europe, and which they had never shared or enjoyed together. Alas! it is only a "site" now. It NEAR franklin's OLD HOME. {Ousiftut Street, between Third and Fourth Streets, as it looks to-day.) was the block bounded by Third and Fourth, Market and Chestnut Streets. A queer little arched passage leads from Market Street into a narrow court; and there, half- way toward Chestnut Street, is the spot about where the It is hedged all about now home of Franklin stood. 204 ffOJV HE BECAME PRESIDENT OF PENNSYLVANIA. with tall warehouses and blank walls ; it is neither invit- ing nor attractive; and yet, shut your eyes and you can almost imagine the big rambling house standing in its shrubbery, with its lawn stretching down to Chestnut Street, — the line old Revolutionary mansion in which the most remarkable of Americans passed his last days, play- ing with his grandchildren, discussing with his friends, acting his part as the chief man of his city and State, the President of Pennsylvania. "The companions of my youth," he said, "are, indeed, almost all departed ; but I find an agreeable society among their children and grandchildren. I have public business enough to preserve me from enmii, and private amuse- ment, besides, in conversation, books, my garden, and crib- bage. I have indeed, now and then, a little compunction in reflecting that I spend time so idly; but another reflec- tion comes to relieve me, whispering, ' You know that the soul is immortal ; wdiy, then, should you be such a niggard of a little time, wdien you have a whole eternity before you?'" All of wdiich sounds as if he took things a little easier in his old age, does it not? And I am sure you will say that one who had done so much all his life ought to have it easy when he had come to eighty years old. And yet, although he made believe he was " loafing," he was not really idle. When he had nothing else to do, he was at work on the new wing to this comfortable HOW HE BECAME PRESIDENT OE PENNSYLVANIA. 205 house of his, long since swallowed up by those ware- houses and that narrow alley. He was not very strong, you know, and could not always be out in the evening; so he arranged it that, in- stead of going out to his Society, his Society could come to him. This was his much-loved Philosophical Society — one still existing in Philadelphia. He built a three-story addition to his house. The first floor was for the meetings of his Philosophical Society, the second w^as his library, the third was for sleeping-rooms. He got up all sorts of queer things as labor-savers there. He had something to take down books from the highest shelves which he called his " long arm; " and in the rooms of the Philo- sophical Society in Philadelphia you may still see his patent chair, which he used at the meetings of the Society when, in his last days, it assembled in his sick-room in the upper part of the house. The seat of this great chair is reversible. The upper side is a cushioned seat ; tip this up, and on the under side you see a sort of step-ladder, by which the sick and aged Franklin could climb into his high four-post bed when franklin's pew. (Pari of the pew in Christ Church, Philadelphia, occupied by Franklin, Lafayette, and Washington, and still preserved.) 206 IIOJV HE BECAME PRESIDENT OF PENNSYLVANIA. he was tired or when the meeting of the Society was over. It is an odd and ingenious contrivance, and shows you, better than I can say, how inventive Franklin w^as. His mind was a regular storehouse of ideas, plans, thoughts, and wisdom. When his first year of service as President of Penn- sylvania was over, the people would not let him retire. They elected him again and yet again, so that he served three terms; and he confesses that this was "agreeable" to him. He did not like to give up, you see; and he felt, too, as he expressed it, that "the esteem of his coun- try with regard to him was undiminished." His administration as President was a prosperous time for Pennsylvania. " Our farmers," he wrote to a friend (you have learned long before this that Franklin was a great letter-writer), " have plentiful crops ; our working- people are all employed on high wages; our estates are tripled in value by the rise in rents; the laws govern, justice is well administered, and property as secure as in any other country on the globe. In short," he concludes, " all among us may be happy who have happy disposi- tions, — such being necessary to happiness, even in Para- dise." What a cheerful old philosopher he was, wasn't he? As he was about leaving France, he had written to one of his dearest friends in England, David Hartley, who was one of the officials of the British government in concluding the treaty of peace, " I leave you still in the HOW HE BECAME PRESIDENT OE PENNSYLVANIA. 207 field ; but, having finished my day's task, I am going home to go to bed. Wish me a good night's rest, as I do you a pleasant evening. Adieu ! and believe me, ever yours most affectionately, B. Franklin, in his eightieth year." But you see his countrymen would not let him '' go to bed." They kept him work- ing for the public good, and you must admit that he kept very wide awake. It was with him much as it was with that other great American whom he so honored- — Wash- ington. Neither one was to be allowed to stop working by their admiring countrymen. Washington, too, like Franklin, was living at home, and trying to straighten things out after the long ab- sences and losses of seven years of war. It was at this time, in September, 1785, that he wrote to Franklin, wish- ing that they could meet once more — they had known each other, you know, since the days of Braddock's defeat. " It would give me infinite pleasure to see you," wrote A GLIMPSE OF THE DOCTOR. {Fragment of a portrait of Franklin, painted in 17S6, by Peale. It is now in Itidependence Hall, Philadelphia.') 2o8 HOir HE BECAME PRESIDENT OF PENNSYLVANIA. Washington to Franklin. " At this place I dare not look for it ; though to entertain you under my own roof would be doubly gratifying. When or whether I shall ever have the satisfaction of seeing you at Philadelphia is un- certain, as retirement from the public walks of life has not been so productive of leisure and ease as might have been expected." So each of these famous men, you see, after laying aside the great work they had done for American inde- pendence, one with the sword, the other with the pen, found themselves too well known to be allowed to live in -quiet. Indeed, Washington's uncertainty as to their meeting was to be settled even sooner than he imagined ; for they were to sit together in Philadelphia upon what was, to a certain extent, the greatest effort and labor of their lives. Rest, indeed, seemed to be Franklin's chief desire at that time — rest, at least, from public duty, though that was wdiat he could not get. "In my own house," he wrote to a French friend, " in the bosom of my family, my daughter and my grandchildren all about me, among my old friends or the sons of my friends, who equally respect me, and who all speak and understand the same language with me, I enjoy here every opportunity for doing good and everything else I could wish for except repose; and that I may soon expect, either by the cessation of my office, which cannot last more than three years, or by ceasing to live." HO IV HE BECAME PRESIDENT OE PENNSYLVANL4. 2O9 You see, this old man, who had led such a busy, use- ful life, was beginning to feel that he ought to feel old simply because he was eighty-two. But, really, he did not feel old, except when a spell of gout or of illness brought him pain. He w^as a great letter-writer, you know ; and in one of his letters to an old friend in England we find him talking in this way about himself : " You are now seventy- eight," he writes, " and I am eighty-two. You tread fast upon my heels, but though you have more strength and spirit you cannot come up with me till I stop, which must now be soon ; for I am grown so old as to have buried most of the friends of my youth, and I now often hear persons whom I knew as children called 'old Mr. such and such-a-one,' to distinguish them from their sons, now men grown and in business ; so that after living twelve years beyond David's period, I seem to have in- truded myself into the company of posterity when I ought to have been abed and asleep. Yet, had I gone at seventy, it would have cut off twelve of the most active years of my life, employed, too, in matters of the greatest importance ; but whether I have been doing good or mischief is for time to discover. I only know that I intended well, and I hope all will end well." We all know to-day what time has discovered as to what Franklin had been doing. He was one of the bene- factors of his race, one of the makers of America. The 2IO HOW HE BECAME PRESIDENT OF PENNSYLVANIA, work he did in those twelve years when, as he says, he supposes he ought to have been abed and asleep, was really one of the most important things ever done for America and for mankind. ''The French alliance," says one student of history, " was worth more to us than Sara- toga, for it gave us Yorktown. It was not Gates's vic- tory at Saratoga, as is commonly asserted, but Franklin's power and popularity, alike in the parlors and at the court of France, that gained us the French alliance." So, boys and girls, you never should join in with those who say of a man, " Oh, he's too old to do any- thing ; he's worn out." See what Franklin did after he was seventy; read in the next chapter what he was to do after he was eighty-four. And then hunt up that beauti- ful poem by Longfellow, " Morituri Salutamus," written when he, too, was growing old, which closes in this way: — " What then ? Shall we sit idly clown and say ' The night hath come ; it is no longer day ? '" The night hath not yet come ; we are not quite Cut off from labor by the falling light ; Something remains for us to do or dare; Even the oldest tree some fruit may bear. For age is opportunity no less Than youth itself, though in another dress; And, as the evening twilight fades away, The sky is. filled with stars invisible by day." Then, after you have read Longfellow's splendid poem, read the next chapter in this true story, and see how HO IV HE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE THIRD TIME. 211 Benjamin Franklin, at eighty-four, did one more deed to add a lustre to his glorious name, and to show to others the way for the United States of America to raise the thirteen stars on the flag of the Union, as he knew it, to the forty-five that crowd its blue to-day. A\ CHAPTER XII. HOW HE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE THIRD TIME. GOOD many people have an idea that when the American Revolution ended at Yorktown, the worst was over, and that the United States of America set up in business at once. Perhaps you think so too. But just look into your histories, and see how mistaken you are. The American Revolution was only the beginning of things. Franklin in France was, as you know, kept hard at work settling up matters long after Cornwallis surren- dered at Yorktown ; and, after he had finished all his treaties and his peacemaking, he came back to America only to find his land as unsettled and uncertain as it was before the revolution began. Congress amounted to nothing as a governing body. It had lived only to carry the Revolution through. It 212 HOW HE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE THIRD TIME. could do nothing about who should run the new govern- ment, or how that government should be run. There was no real bond of union between the " free and independent States;" there was no one to look to for direction or guidance ; there were no laws under which the people of the new republic could live together in peace, unity, security, good fellowship, or harmony. Franklin saw this; Washington saw it; Hamilton had tried to do something towards real union; all the leading men and great minds of the republic knew that something must be done at once to make a strong and firm and last- ing government for these new United States of America. So, in the year 1787, a Federal Convention as it was called — that is, a " coming together " of certain selected men, or delegates, from all the thirteen States — met in Philadelphia to talk over, arrange, decide upon, and estab- lish some lasting form of government, fully described in a paper which all or the most of them should agree to and sign. This paper was called a constitution. The two leading men — the two greatest men in all America at that day — were sent to this Convention by their own States ; George Washington from Virginia, and Benjamin Franklin from Pennsylvania. The Convention would not have been complete without them. Indeed, so long as they were to attend it, all men felt certain that the result would be just, and wise, and good. It so proved. But it was only by long and earnest HOW HE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE THIRD TIME. 213 talk, in which many members of the Convention differed from one another, and in which many hasty and even angry w o r d s were spoken about the way things should be run ; it was only by long considera- tion of every point sug- gested, and by wise de- cisions and careful ac- tion ; by some giving up what they wished for most, and others agreeing to what they had not thought best for the coun try, that the end at last was reached, vention of and si gned ous document : Constitution "We, the States " — you tution begins THE STAIRWAY, INDEPENDENCE HALL. IN INDEPENDENCE HALL. WHERE THE CONSTITUTION WAS MADE. and the Federal Con- 1787 prepared, adopted, that great and glori- known to us as the of the United States, people of the United know how the Consti- — "in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tran- quillity, provide for the common defence, promote the gen- 214 HO IV HE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE THIRD TIME. % eral welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitu- tion for the United States of America." The Constitution adopted by the fathers of the re- public, and under which we live in security to-day, has done all this for which it was made. How much this result was due to the presence in that famous Convention of Washington and Franklin we can now see; for we know that, with Washington in the chair as the president of the Convention, directing and gov- erning its acts — with Franklin on the floor as the wisest man in all that wise and notable body- — and with the influence they both had over the mem- bers when outside the place of meeting, the Convention, in spite of hitches and disa- greements and disputes, went through to success. People who write and study the history of America vv^ill tell you this to-day. So you should know it to be very certain that, without the presence and the help of those two great men in the Convention of 1787, and the mighty influence of their words of wisdom and of advice, that Federal Convention, as one writer declares, " would either have made no Constitution at all or made one which the States would have rejected." THE INKSTAND USED IN SIGNING THE CONSTITUTION. BOJF HE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE THIRD TIME. 215 This would have been a terrible misfortune. It would be as if you should fail in your most important school examination ; it would be like a man failing in business just as he had set up for himself. There is no telling what might have been the result had that Constitution not been adopted. So it is well for you, boys and girls, to remember as, in your classes, you read or study your Constitution of the United States, that it exists to-day as your protection, your safeguard, and your charter of lib- erty, largely because of those two splendid patriots, George Washington and Benjamin Franklin. It was in the month of May, 1787, that the Conven- tion was to meet in Independence Hall in Philadelphia — the home of the great Declaration of Independence. One by one the delegates came from their homes, and among the earliest arrivals was Washington. Amid the welcomes and cheers of watchers all along the route he rode from Mount Vernon to Philadelphia. Soldiers and high officers rode out to meet him ; and, thus escorted, welcomed by crowds of people who thronged the streets to greet him, amid the joyous peal of all the bells of the city, and the shouts and cheers of the waiting throngs, the *' Father of his Country " rode into Philadel- phia on the thirteenth of May, 1787. And the very first thing he did after he arrived was to call upon that grand old man, who also had been hailed by his fellow-Americans as "the Father of his Country" 2l6 HOW HE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE THIRD TIME. (though in another sense). Washington called to pay his respects to Franklin, both as the President of the State of Pennsylvania, and as his old friend and fellow-worker in the cause of American Independence. You could always depend upon George Washington to do just the right thing, and to do it gracefully, graciously, and courteously. His visit to Franklin was surely just the right thing to do. For four months, through the summer of 1787, the Convention sat daily, deliberating, discussing, arranging. And every day of that session, five hours each day, Frank- lin was in attendance, — the oldest member of the Conven- tion. He was an old man of nearly eighty-two; but so eaeer with interest, so earnest in the w^ork on hand, that he forgot his age, and was as young, almost, as Nicholas Oilman of New Hampshire, who was the youngest mem- ber — a mere boy of thirty-two! "Some people tell me," he said, "that I look l^etter; and they suppose the daily exercise of going and returning from the State house has done me good." It did good to others, at any rate; for, more than his speeches, Franklin's wise explanations, witty remarks, and sensible suggestions, as he talked and argued \\\\\\ his fellow-members, led them to see things in a clearer light, and to accept what, otherw^ise, they might have fought agamst. Two or three of the speeches made in the Convention by Franklin have been preserved. You know there were WASHINGTON VISITS FRANKLIN AT HIS HOME IN PHILADELPHIA, "you COULD ALWAYS DEPEND UPON GEORGE WASHINGTON TO DO JUST THE RIGHT THING.'' HOW BE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE THIRD TIME. 219 no great newspapers in those days ; no busy, wide-awake reporters taking down everything a public man said ; no phonographs to catch a man's speech, and box it up for future ages. So, very few of the speeches made in the Convention were written down ; and the only thing we know about it is what we read in the notes taken by James Madison, who was a member of the Convention, and who, years after, you know, became President of the United States. Franklin, although strong and hearty for so old a man, suffered from a trouble that hurt him to stand. He could not be on his feet long enough to make a speech; so, when he had anything to say, he wrote it down and got one of his friends in the Convention to read it for him. Mr. Madison copied most of these speeches and resolu- tions, and that is how Franklin's work has remained while other great speeches of the Constitution-makers have been lost. These speeches did not always bring about the things that Franklin desired ; for there was a great difference of opinion in that Convention, and it took more than speeches to bring men to think and act in harmony. But they set men to thinking; and by their wisdom, their kindness, their firmness, and their good sense they prevented some ab- surd and some wrong things from being done, and thus strengthened the Constitution. For two months there was nothing really done. It 220 HOJV HE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE THIRD TIME. was all talk, talk, talk. After that came action ; and finally the finished Constitution. It was when the strug- gle was most bitter — for each State felt that it had just as much at stake and should have just as much to say as the others — - that Franklin proposed a settlement that set things right, and kept them so through all these years. This was, that each State should have an equal represen- tation and equal voice in the Senate or upper house of Congress, while in the lower branch, the House of Repre- sentatives, the membership should be made up according to population. This not only solved the question of representation, which was in dispute, it also smoothed down all jealousies and, so it is claimed by historical and political students, saved the Union, which all desired, but about which all could not agree. So, once again you see in his long and useful life, did Benjamin Franklin save the country. Among the things which Franklin advised was a term of seven years for the president of the United States, and no second term — a recommendation which many people ask for and would like to see to-day. It was Franklin who proposed the clause relating to the impeach- ment or punishment of a wrongly-acting president; he proposed the clause making it necessary for a foreigner to live at least four years in the land before he could become an American citizen. Indeed, Mr. Bigelow, one of the best students of Franklin's life, declares that " it is FRANKLIN AND CERTAIN OF HIS PATRIOT ASSOCIATES. Thomas Jefferson of Virginia. (^The Father of the Declaration.') James Madison of Virginia. (The Father of tJie Constitution.) John Adams of Massachusetts. Benjamin Franklin of Pennsylvania. (^^^ F'^^'^'" "/''"' ^''""'''^ ^Z-^"^-^-) {The Statesman.) Alexander Hamilton of New York. ( The Father of the Union.) HOW HE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE THIRD TIME. 223 not too much to say that to Franklin, perhaps more than to any other man, the present Constitution of the United States owes most of those features which have given it durability, and made it the ideal by which all other sys- tems of government are tested by Americans." That was pretty good work for an old man of eighty- one, was it not ? Was I not right when I said, for Franklin, the Constitution-maker, that, by his wisdom and ability in that Federal Convention of 1787, he saved the country for the third time in his life ? " With all its faults, sir," he said in his last speech, just before the signing of the Constitution, " I agree to this Constitution, because I think a general government- necessary for us; and there is no form of government but may be a blessing to the people, if well administered. I believe, further, that this is likely to be well adminis- tered for a course of years, and that it can only end in despotism, as other forms have done before it, w^hen the people shall become so corrupted as to need despotic government, being incapable of any other. I doubt, too, whether any other convention we can obtain may be able to make a better constitution ; for, when you assemble a number of men, to have the advantage of their joint wis- dom, you inevitably assemble with those men all their prejudices, their passions, their errors of opinion, their local interests, and their selfish views. From such an as- sembly can a perfect production be expected? 224 BOW HE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE THIRD TIME. " It therefore astonishes me, sir, to find this system approaching so near to perfection as it does ; and I think it will astonish our enemies, who are waiting with con- fidence to hear that our councils are confounded like those of the builders of Babel, and that our States are on the point of separation, only to meet hereafter for the purpose of cutting one another's throats. "Thus I consent, sir, to this Constitution because I expect no better, and because I am not sure that it is not the best. The opinions I have had of its errors I sacrifice to the public good. I have never whispered a syllable of them abroad. Within these walls they were born, and here they shall die. " Much of the strength and efficiency of any govern- ment, in procuring and securing happiness to the people, depends on opinion, — on the general opinion of the good- ness of that government, as well as of the wisdom and integrity of its governors. I hope, therefore, for our own sakes, as a part of the people, and for the sake of our posterity, that we shall act heartily and unanimously in recommending this Constitution wherever our influence may extend, and that we may turn our future thoughts and endeavors to the means of having it well adminis- tered. " On the whole, sir, I cannot help expressing a wish that every member of the Convention who may still have objections to it, would, with me, on this occasion, doubt HOW HE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE THIRD TIME. 225 a little of his own infallibility, and, to make manifest our unanimity, put his name to this instrument." That is an easy speech to read and understand, is it not? It came, you see, at the close of five months of bitter struggle, grave differences, and tedious discussion, which had " boiled down " the twenty-three articles of the new Constitution, as presented by the Committee, into the seven articles that you study to-day ; and while no one was really satisfied with everything, they were ready at last, with a few exceptions, to do as Franklin requested, and " put their names to the instrument." If you go to Washington to-day you can see in the great granite house of the State Department near to the White House, within the doors of a long wooden cabinet and framed in five distinct sections, beginning with the preamble,- — -"We, the people of the United States," — and ending with the signatures, the precious and famous paper now familiar to all the world as the Constitution of the United States. And, on the last of the five sections, — the one given to the signatures — the two names that will interest you most will be "George Washington, presiding, and Deputy from Virginia," and, in the Pennsylvania list, " Benjamin Franklin," — a pretty good signature, you will say, as you look on it, for an old man of nearly eighty-two. As these two mighty men put their names to this immortal paper, — a paper which Gladstone, greatest of 226 BOW HE SAVED THE COUNTRY THE THIRD TIME. modern Englishmen, declares to be " the most wonderful work ever struck of at a given time by the brain and purpose of man," — their words were just what you would expect from what you know and have read about them. h ,^4LgL^a»n^ /.f^i^V*-** az-^r^^ f ^ " \tk CI, <=^ THE SIGNERS OF THE CONSTITUTION. (From tJie original !>t the State Defartment at ]l'ashitigton.) Washington was sober and solemn; Franklin was cheer- ful and hopeful. Washington, pausing, pen in hand, said in his deep, impressive voice, " Should the States reject this excellent Constitution, they will probably never sign another in peace. The next will be drawn in blood." He knew the opposition, you see, that had come from the del- HOJV HE SAILED THE COUNTRY THE THIRD TEME. 227 egates from some States, and he feared that those States would not accept the Constitution. If they did not, and there was no agreement, he feared a terrible civil war. But Franklin, who always looked on the bright side, you know, was more hopeful. After he had signed, he stood watching the other members write down their names. Then, looking toward the President's chair, in which Wash- FRANKLIN AND THE PRESIDENTS CHAIR I KNOW IT IS A RISING AND NOT A SETTING SUN." ington had sat to direct the business of the Convention, and on which was painted a picture of the sun half up, he said, " I have often and often, in the course of the session and the vicissitudes of my hopes and fears as to its issue, looked at that sun behind the President with- out being able to tell whether it was rising or setting. But now at length I have the happiness to know that it is a rising, and not a setting, sun." The hopeful old philosopher proved himself a prophet. 228 THE OLD rHlLOSOm ER' S OXJ.Y REGRET. did he luU ? F(M- when, after months more of discussion and deliberation, the several States of the new republic remembered Washington's solemn warning, and tlid not reject the Constitution, then, at once, the United States of America began to take a place among the nations of the earth; and as its glowing light of liberty began to arouse and awaken the world to action and progress, it became, you see, as Franklin prophesied, a rising sun indeed! T CHAPTER XITL THK OLD rillLOSOPHER's ONLY RLGRLT. HE Constitution was adopted. State after State voted to accept it, or, as it is termed, " ratified " it ; and it became the law of the land. Franklin was so deeply interested in the approval thus placed by the people upon the work in which he had so large a share, and which was really his last official labor for his native land, that he did all he could to influence the people of the new nation in favor of the Constitu- tion, and hailed with delight each report of adoption that came to him, noting it down in his diary, and writing about it to his friends. When the States had adopted the Constitution, there THE OLD PHILOSOPHER'S OXLY REGRET. 22g was a great celebration in Philadelphia in honor of the event. There was a procession, a banquet, and speeches ; and Franklin did his share in making it remembered. In the procession all the trades were represented at their work ; the printers had a wagon on which was a press, and they printed and scattered among the crowd a song written by Franklin in honor of the trades. It was not much of a song or much of a poem. Franklin himself, you know, laughed at his so-called poetry. But it was verse; and, as a song, it became as popular as anything a real poet could have written. The last verse went in this way : — " Each tradesman turn out with his tools in his hand, To cherish the arts and keep peace in the land ; Each 'prentice and journeyman join in my song, And let the brisk chorus go bounding along." Franklin, now that his work seemed done, had serious thoughts of moving into the country, and ending his life as a farmer. But the people would not give him up. He was elected in 1787 President of Pennsylvania for the third time. Even though he thought he would be better if he gave up public life altogether, he was still pleased to be thus repeatedly honored. " I must own," he wrote to his sister in Boston, " that it is no small pleasure to me that after such a long trial of me, I should be elected a third time by my fellow-citizens, without a dissenting voice but my own, to fill the most honorable post in 230 THE OLD PHILOSOPHER'S ONLY REGRET. . their power to bestow. This universal and unbounded con- fidence of a whole people flatters my vanity much more than a peerage could do." That was one thing about Benjamin Franklin ! Have you noticed it ? He never " made out," as you boys and girls say, that he did not like or care for a thing when he really did. He thought a great deal of being thus selected and re-elected ; it pleased him greatly, and he w^as honest enough to say so. Have you noticed that one thing in common in all our greatest Americans — Washington, Lincoln, Franklin, and Grant — their absolute honesty? That is why men trusted in them, believed in them, followed them. For this office of President of Pennsylvania, which he held three times, Franklin would not accept a cent as salary. He did not believe in salaries for positions of honor, such as governor and president. If he could have had his way, you remember, the Constitution which he helped to make would have said that the President of the United States should receive no salary, but must be satis- fied with the honor and his expenses! Think of that! So, as the chief ruler of the State of Pennsylvania, Benjamin Franklin *' lived up to his convictions," as the saying is, and refused to accept a salary. Washington felt that way, too, you know. He would not take a cent of salary for all his long and hard work as general of the army of the Revolution. He drew only the actual ex- THE OLD PHILOSOPHER'S ONLY REGRET. 23 1 penses of his office. And the only thing that Franklin would take was the money he had paid out for postage while President of Pennsylvania, — not quite four hundred dollars for three years' business ! The years that followed his labors on the Constitu- tion were peaceful and quiet, disturbed only by the pain of his one complaint, which grew worse as he grew older. He kept up his interest in all public affairs ; and though he took no actual part, he kept on writing letters and pamphlets with just as much fun and force in them as when he had begun writing for his brother's paper in Boston, nearly seventy years before. And how he did love Boston ! It was his boyhood's home ; and as he grew older and unable to travel, he de- sired all the more to see it. " It would certainly be a very great pleasure to me," he wrote in 1788 to a Boston man who begged him once more to visit the old town, " if I could once again visit my native town, and walk over the ground I used to frequent when a boy, and where I enjoyed many of the innocent pleasures of youth which would be brought to my remembrance, and where I might find some of my old acquaintances to converse with. But if I arrived in Boston I should see but little of it, as I could neither bear walking nor riding in a carriage over its pebbled streets ; and, above all, I should find very few indeed of my old friends living, it being now sixty-five years since 2^2 THE OLD PHILOSOPHER'S OXLY REGRET. I left it to settle here. It seems probable that I shall hardly again visit that beloved place." PHOTOGRAPHED BV BALDWIN COOLIDGE THE STATUE OF FRANKLIN IN HIS NATIVU (IT v. (Greenough\ bronze statue of Beitjamiii Franklin in /ront of the Boston City Hall.) How much he loved his boyhood's home he proved in his will, which he made about this time. For "because," as he said in that will, ''I was born in Boston, and owe THE OLD PHILOSOPHER'S ONLY REGRET. 233 my first instruction in literature to the free grammar- schools established there," he left one hundred pounds sterling (about five hundred dollars) to be put at interest for silver medals to be given as " honorary rewards " to the scholars of Boston, — rewards which thousands of Boston schoolboys have since been proud to accept and wear and prize as " the Franklin medal." He also left a sum of money, at interest and not to be touched for a hundred years, for the benefit of Boston workmen, which has now grown to great proportions as the well-known " Franklin fund." He kept up his interest, too, in all the political ques- tions of the day, and was greatly anxious for Washing- ton's election as president of the United States. " He is the man that all our eyes are fixed on," he said ; " and what little influence I may have is all devoted to him." It is well for us to recall now the love and affection that existed between those two great Americans — Wash- ington and Franklin. I have shown you something of this already. In these closing days this was repeatedly shown. We find among his letters one written in 1789 by Franklin to Washington, congratulating him on his re- covery from a serious illness. In that letter Franklin said, " I am now finishing my eighty-fourth year, and, probably, with it my career in this life ; but whatever state of existence I am placed in hereafter, if I retain 234 ^^^ ^^^ FHJLOSOPHER'S ONLY Ji.2 1 "^ET. any memory of what has passed here, I shall with it re tain the esteem, respect, and affection with which I have long been, my dear friend, yours most sincerely, B. Franklin." And Washington, in his reply to this loving letter, closed by saying, "If to be venerated for benevolence, i( 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 occur- rences of your life to be assured that, so long as I retain my memory, you will be recollected with respect, venera- tion, and affection by your sincere friend, G. Washington." These were pleasant words to pass between two such world-famous and noble men, were they not ? So, whether in bed or out, in pain or not, Franklin continued the same affectionate, jolly, kind-hearted, cheer- ful, hopeful, and helpful man as ever. He dearly loved his home in Philadelphia ; he dearly loved his grandchildren. He liked to have them about him as he sat drinking tea and talking with his visitors or his friends as he sat under the h'w mulberrv-tree in his garden, of which he was especially fond. He loved to have them in his sick-room, even when he was in the greatest pain. When I was a boy, about your age, there still lived in Philadelphia an old lady who was one of THE OLD PHILOSOPHER'S ONLY REGRET. 235 Franklin's grandchil- dren, and who could remember him. She loved to tell how in- terested her grand- father was in having her get her lessons well, and how every night,, after tea, she would go into his sick-room and would stand at his bedside, while he would take her spelling-book, and hear her say her les- son. But, sick or well, it was not possible for this busy old man to really rest. He simply could not keep still or stay idle. He wTote almost to the last day of his life. He wrote to his friends in America, in France, and in Eng- ^K' FRANKLIN AND HIS GRAND-DAUGHTER — "SHE WOULD STAND AT HIS BEDSIDE, AND RECITE HER SPELLING LESSON." 236 THE OLD PHILOSOPHER'S^ ONLY REGRET. land. He kept up to the times on whatever was new or interesting, and his only regret, as he came to the end of his life was, as he wrote to one of his friends, that he had been born so soon ; for as he looked into the future, and saw all the mighty things which he felt cer- tain would come to pass, he said, '' I have sometimes al- most wished it had been my destiny to be born two or three centuries hence. For invention and improvement are prolific, and beget more of their kind. The present progress is rapid. Many of great importance, now un- thought of, will before that period be produced ; and then I might not only enjoy their advantages, but have my curiosity gratified in knowing what they are to be." Was he not a wonderful old man? Yi^ felt the things that were coming. Suppose he could now come to earth and realize them,- — the telegraph, the telephone, the ocean cable, electric lights, trolley cars, and great, free, prosper- ous, independent America ! But think how much he had done in his long and busy life. I have given up the most of his story to tell- ing you what he did for the freedom and glory of his native land ; how, three times, he saved it from destruc- tion, defeat, and anarchy ; and how he gave his life for over sixty years to its service. But just read this other catalogue of what he did for the comfort, convenience, and bettering of all mankind. It is a lono- list — -no other man ever did so many things. FRANKLINS RECEPTION-ROOM — "UNDER THE BIG MULBERRY-TREE IN HIS GARDEN, HE WAS ESPECIALLY FOND." OF WHICH THE OLD PHILOSOPHER'S ONLY REGRET. 239 He improved the printing-press, and introduced stereo- typing and manifold letter-writers; he cured chimneys of smoking ; bettered the shape and rig of ships ; studied out the Gulf Stream, and told sailors how to use it and how to keep provisions fresh at sea. He improved soup- plates for men and drinking-troughs for beasts ; he drained swamp-lands, and made them fertile and fruitful; he im- proved fire-places, arranged better ventilation, and invented stoves ; he showed how to heat public buildings, and in- vented automatic fans to cool hot rooms and keep off flies ; he made double spectacles for near- and far-sighted people; he invented a musical instrument, and improved an electrical machine ; he taught men that lightning was electricity, relieved it of its terrors, and harnessed it to do the will of man ; he invented lightning-rods, and was the first advocate of electrocution — that is, killing men and animals by electricity and without pain ; he thought out phonography and shorthand ; he started the first spell- ing reform ; he improved carriage-wheels, windmills, and water-wheels ; he revolutionized the covering of house- roofs ; he showed how oil on water would calm a storm; suggested the discovery of the north pole and a north- west passage; tested the pain-killing effects of ether; im- proved lamps and street-lighting, and showed how heat could be used practically; he developed salt-mines; he in- vented sidewalks and crossing-stones, — at least for Phila- delphia, — and showed how streets could be swept and kept 240 THE OLD PHILOSOPHER'S ONLY REGRET. clean ; he founded the first philosophical society in Amer- ica, laid the basis for the present post-office department, and first told about the poison in the air — what we now call microbes or germs ; he founded the first improve- ment club in America, the first free school outside of New England, the first public library, the first fire com- pany, the first police service, the first periodical maga- zine, and the first volunteer militia in Pennsylvania; he introduced the idea of humanity in war and the decent treatment of prisoners; he protected the Indians, founded the first anti-slavery society, and introduced into America from Europe seeds, vines, and vegetables new to the western world. Is that enough ? I think I could add even to that list, if I tried ; but it will show you what a man Frank- lin was, and how many of the things that you enjoy to- day, and which the world could not possibly do without, were either thought out or wrought out by Benjamin Franklin, that most remarkable of Americans. Do you wonder that the world holds him in such admiration, — that even from his enemies came praise? Lord Brougham, one of the ablest of Englishmen, said, sixty years ago, "one of the most remarkable men — cer- tainly of our times as a politician, or of any age as a philosopher — was Franklin, who also stands alone in com- bining together these two characters, the greatest that man can sustain ; and in this, that having borne the first THE OLD PHILOSOPHER'S ONLY REGRET. 241 part in enlarging science by one of the greatest discov- eries ever made, he bore the second part in founding one of the greatest empires in the world." But I have told you how he kept on writing almost to the last day of his life. And the very last letter he wrote, only a week or so before his death, was to Thomas Jefferson, who wrote the Declaration of Independence, re- calling certain facts about the eastern boundary of Maine, that showed how clear and strong were mind and memory. During those last years of life, too, he added largely to his story of his own life, called his " autobiography." He had begun the story many years before, in 1771. He added to it, now and then, as he found time, and in 1788, extending it further, brought it down to the time he was fifty years old. This, you see, leaves out more than forty years of his busy life. It tells us nothing of his labors in behalf of American Independence. But it gives a pic- ture of the greatest American worker of his time, when he was struggling toward the goal of fame and fortune. It is considered; to-day, one of the best examples of American literature, one of the best autobiographies the world has ever seen, and to be classed, so one critic declares, with Robinson Crusoe, as "one of the few ever- lasting books in the English language." You see, what- ever Franklin did he did well, whether it were sweeping streets, making treaties, or writing books. By all means, boys and girls, get Franklin's autobiog- 242 THE OLD PHILOSOPHER'S ONLY REGRET. raphy from the library, and read it. It is simple, delight- ful, interesting, healthy — in fact, just exactly what Frank- lin was himself. One of the very last, and one of the very best labors of his long life, was his earnest effort in behalf of the abolition of negro slavery. He was so true and strong a lover of liberty that he could not bear to think of any one being held in bondage in a land whose very Decla- ration of Independence was founded on the truth held " to be self-evident : that all men are created equal ; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalien- able rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." So Franklin had been, all his life, an "Abolitionist;" and when, after the Revolution, men began to discuss and talk about the abolition of negro slavery, he was an interested and earnest supporter of the measure. It took seventy-five years to bring it about, and remove from the fair name of the great republic the blot of slavery. But it is well to know and to remember that the fight against it began with Benjamin Franklin, the Boston boy, the Philadelphia printer, the apostle of freedom. In 1788 he was elected the first president of the first anti-slavery society in America. It was called "the Penn- sylvania Society for promoting the Abolition of Slavery and the Relief of Free negroes unlawfully held in Bondage," — a long name, but its work was to be long and lasting. THE OLD PHILOSOPHER'S ONLY REGRET. 243 Franklin wrote and talked much about this subject. Both he and Washington were united in dislike of slavery. As president of his anti-slavery society, Franklin wrote and presented to Congress in February, 1790, when he was eighty-four years old, the first petition and remon- strance against slavery in America ever made to Congress. I repeat, boys and girls : remember this wise and good old man — Benjamin Franklin — as the first advo- cate of that measure of freedom which it took seventy- fiv^e years of talk and four years of bloody civil war to bring to the supreme moment, when, with a sweep of the pen, the great cause was forever overthrown by the strong hand of Abraham Lincoln, the Emancipator. Here is a part of Franklin's plea for freedom. It is the closing paragraph of his memorial to Congress : — " From a persuasion that equal liberty was originally the portion and is still the birthright of all men ; and influenced by the strong ties of humanity and the princi- ples of their institution, your memorialists conceive them- selves bound to use all justifiable endeavors to lessen the bonds of slavery and promote a general enjoyment of the blessings of freedom. Under these impressions, they earnestly entreat your serious attention to the sub- ject of slavery ; that you will be pleased to countenance the restoration of liberty to those unhappy men, who, alone, in this land of freedom, are degraded into perpetual bondage, and who, amidst the general joy of surrounding 244 '^^^ O^^ PHILOSOPHER'S ONLY REGRET. freemen, are groaning in servile subjection ; that you will devise means for removing this inconsistency from the character of the American people ; that you will promote mercy and justice towards the distressed race, and that you will step to the very verge of the power vested in you for discouraging every species of traffic in the per- sons of our fellowmen. Benjamin Franklin, president." Now take your " Whittier," and turn to his poem " Yorktown," written sixty years after Franklin's memo- rial. See how the two great-hearted, slavery-hating men had the same thought — that it was unjust and absurd for a land of freedom to hold a slave, or for a nation, saved for liberty by a revolution, to have liberty but half granted. So he worked on to the end. And at last the end came. His pain increased ; old age could not fight against it. The last year of his life was passed almost constantly in bed. His loved ones were around him. Friends wrote him from all over the world; they called on him, talked with him, and made life a pleasure in spite of all his pain. But at last the tired nerves could bear the strain no longer. With the only regret still with him, — that he might have lived a century later so as to "see things," — he was at last so tired out that he was ready to go. " A dying man can do nothing easy," he said. These were his last words ; and at eleven o'clock on the night of April seventeenth, 1790, with his eyes fixed upon a THE LAST LETTER. f^Fratiklin writing- io Jefferson — almost the last act of his life) THE OLD PHILOSOPHER'S ONLY REGRET. 247 framed picture of Christ, — "the one," he said, "who came into the world to teach men to love one another," — the loving, great-hearted, wise old philosopher and patriot closed his eyes in the world forever. Benjamin Franklin was dead. The whole world mourned. England, his enemy, paid him the tribute of respect. France and America, both of whom he loved and who had revered and honored him, clasped hands in mutual sorrow, and by public cere- monials and private remembrances did honor to the memory of him whom both had so esteemed. He had lived exactly eighty-four years, three months, and eleven days. He had crowded into his eighty-four years of life enough to keep four healthy men busy for another eighty-four years. He wrought himself into the history of his native land ; and that land will never forget him, — "the most interesting, the most uniformly success- ful life yet lived by any American," says McMaster the historian. And that is strictly true. Read, too, this that Mr. McMaster further says of Franklin, " No American," he says, " has attained to greatness in so many ways, or has made so lasting an impression on his countrymen. His face is as well known as the face of Washington; and, save that of Washington, is the only one of his time that is now instantly recognized by the great mass of his countrymen. His maxims are in every man's mouth. His name is all over the country, bestowed on counties 248 THE OLD PHILOSOPHER'S ONLY REGRET. and towns, on streets, on societies, on corporations. The stove, the lightning-rod, and the kite, the papers on the Gulf Stream and on electricity, give him no mean claims to be considered a man of science. In diplomacy his name THE GRAVE OF FRANKLIN. (/« Christ Church Biiryhig-Groujtd, in Philadelphia.') is bound up with many of the most famous documents in our history. He drew the Albany plan of Union. He sent over the Hutchinson Letters. He is the only man who wrote his name alike at the foot of the Declaration of Independence, at the foot of the Treaty of Alliance^ THE OLD PHILOSOPHER'S ONLY REGRET. 249 at the foot of the Treaty of Peace, and at the foot of the Constitution under which we live. Franklin was in truth the greatest American then living; nor would it be safe to say that our country has, since that day, seen his like." " I cannot place Franklin second to any other Ameri- can," wrote Horace Greeley. Can you, boys and girls, who know and have read the lives of all the great men? What do you say ? To-day, in the burying-ground of old Christ Church, in his home city of Philadelphia, where the high brick fence has been cut away, at the corner of Arch and Fifth Streets, so that all who pass by may see the spot from the wide side-walk, you can look down upon the plain flat stone slab that marks the grave of Benjamin Franklin and his dearly-loved wife: — Benjamin ] AND ! Franklin. Deborah This is all it says; but it is eloquent in its very sim- plicity — a fitting memorial of the simple great man whose bones rest beneath it. Self-taught, self-reared, self-made, the candle-maker's son gave light to all the world; the street ballad-seller set all men singing of liberty; the run- away printer brought the nation to praise and honor him. 250 THE OLD PHILOSOPHER'S ONLY REGRET. And to you, boys and girls, I have told the story of his long, busy, eventful life. 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