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FRANKDN IN 1777.

AFTER THE PRINT REPRODUCED FROM THE DRAWING OF COCHIN.

Benjamin Jfranhlin

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CAT\?

1706-1790

ED WAR

Author of " Echoes o£ the Playh'

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Benjamin Jfianf^Un

PRINTER, STATESMAN

PHILOSOPHER AND PRACTICAL

CITIZEN

1706-1790

BY

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EDWARD -vOBINS

n Author of *' Echoes of the Playhouse," etc.

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS NEW YORK & LONDON ^be IknickerbocKec press

1898 U^ TWOCOPIE

2nd COPY, 1898.

iVED<

£■30?

«194

Copyright, 1898

BY

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS Entered at Stationers' Hall, London

Ube TknicUvbockcv iprese, 1Rew iJorh

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PREFACE

HE writer who puts forth a Hfe of Benjamin Franklin may feel tempted to apologise for his seeming audacity. The literature devoted to the career of this great American is volumin- ous, and the works of Sparks, Bigelow, Parton, Mc- Master, and Morse form in themselves a noble tribute to his many-sided genius. Yet the years of this typical American were so full of action and variety, so rich in interesting detail, and so import- ant in their general results, that the presentation of a record of them considered from a new point of view, is a congenial occupation which calls for no excuse. It would indeed be difficult to lay too much stress upon the story of one whose practical devotion to the common good should excite the liveliest admiration, particularly at a time when we hear loud complaints about " political corruption," ** civic demoralisation," and the like. Franklin was the embodiment of public spirit. His curious com- bination of lofty patriotism and worldly sense offers a perennial object-lesson to the average statesman or average citizen of to-day, while his readiness to

iii

Iv Preface

serve his country, his province, or America at large, might be recalled with profit by those inconsistent voters who, although they refuse to share in the burden of government, cry out lustily for adminis- trative reforms.

I need not, therefore, offer any plea of extenua- tion for thus adding to the formidable mass of Frankliniana, beyond acquitting myself of any vain desire to compete with, or to imitate, the bio- graphies of the past. My purpose has been to give, as it were, a composite picture of the man, to show his character and activities, and to touch briefly upon the national conditions which brought the latter into play. That the narrative has been chosen as the forerunner of a series of biographical studies on American subjects, is an honour of which I am fully appreciative. I desire also to express my ac- knowledgments for the valuable counsel received during the preparation of my work at the rooms of the Historical Society of Pennsylvania, and my special indebtedness to Messrs. John W. Jordan and Thomas Allen Glenn.

Philadelphia, February i, 1898.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I. __

PACK

THE "father of THE MAN " ( 1 706-1 7 27) . . I

CHAPTER II. AN EDITOR OF THE OLD SCHOOL (1728-1740) . 33

CHAPTER III. THE SERVANT OF THE PUBLIC (1736-I754) . 62

CHAPTER IV. THE PHILOSOPHER IN MARTIAL MOOD (1755-1756). 92

CHAPTER V. A BATTLE WITH THE PENNS (1756-1762) . . II9

CHAPTER VI. IN THORNY PATHS (1762-1765) .... 144

CHAPTER VII. WORKING FOR THE COLONIES (1766-1773) . . 175

vi Contents

CHAPTER VIII.

PAGE

"a man of letters " (i 773-1774) . . . 200

CHAPTER IX. THE STRUGGLE FOR INDEPENDENCE (1774-1776). 224

CHAPTER X. THE MISSION TO FRANCE (1776-1778) . . . 253

CHAPTER XI. PLAV AND POLITICS (1777-1783) .... 278

CHAPTER XII. A RETROSPECT (1746-1783) 3OI

CHAPTER XIII. FINAL DAYS (1784-1790) 325

ILLUSTRATIONS

FRANKLIN IN 1 777 . . . . Frofitispiece

After the print reproduced from the drawing of Cochin.

TITLE-PAGE OF CICERO'S " CATO MAJOR" . . 40

One of Franklin's earlier publications.

franklin's puzzle, how to make money. . 46

Reproduced from a copper-plate print by permis- sion of Mrs. Frances H. Hoyt.

THE PHILADELPHIA LIBRARY. THE OLD BUILDING

ON FIFTH STREET, NOW DEMOLISHED . . 56

From the engraving by W. Birch & Son.

THE PENNSYLVANIA HOSPITAL, PHILADELPHIA . 90

From an old engraving by W. Birch & Son.

THOMAS PENN . . . . . . . I18

From a painting owned by the Historical Society of Pennsylvania, and copied by M. I. Naylor, from the portrait in possession of Major Dugald Stuart.

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN . . . . . . 1 40

From a painting by Charles Willson Peale, owned by the Historical Society of Pennsylvania.

vlli Illustrations

SECOND STREET, PHILADELPHIA, SHOWING THE OLD

COURT-HOUSE TO THE LEFT . . . l66

From an engraving made by W. Birch & Son.

GREAT BRITAIN TRUNCATED ..... 226 After the emblematical design prepared by Frank- lin and engraved for him on copper-plate.

carpenters' HALL, PHILADELPHIA, WHEREIN MET

THE FIRST CONTINENTAL CONGRESS . . 230

Reproduced from a photograph by F. Gutekunst, Philadelphia.

THE EARL OF CHATHAM ..... 236

From an oil painting in the possession of the His- torical Society of Pennsylvania.

franklin's credentials as minister . . . 254 Photographed by the permission of the Historical Society of Pennsylvania.

beaumarchais ....... 262

franklin found by DIOGENES .... 266

From an old French engraving.

MARIE ANTOINETTE ...... 276

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN ...... 288

From an oil painting in the possession of the His- torical Society of Pennsylvania.

THE AMERICAN PEACE COMMISSION .... 294 After the unfinished painting by Benjamin West in the possession of Lord Belper. From a photo- graph bequeathed by Chas. Sumner to the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. The figures, from the left of the picture to the right, are Jay, Adams, Franklin, Laurens, and W. T. Franklin. Reproduced from a photograph taken by Baldwin Coolidge.

Illustrations

IX

FRANKLIN S ELECTRICAL MACHINE . . . • SH

Owned by the Franklin Institute.

THE PENNSYLVANIA FIREPLACE .... 32O

THE ARMONICA ....... 324

Instrument designed by Franklin as an improve- ment upon the musical glasses.

MARITIME OBSERVAT^'ONS ..... 33O

After designs of nautical improvements suggested by Franklin.

MARITIME OBSERVATIONS ..... 34O

After designs of nautical improvements suggested by Franklin.

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN

CHAPTER I

THE '' FATHER OF THE MAN

I 706- I 727

OME of US have heard and laughed at the legend of the schoolboy who, being asked to prepare a composition with Benjamin Franklin as the sub- ject, finally wrote the following ex- haustive essay: ** Benjamin Franklin was a wonder- ful man. He invented the Franklin stove." To this ingenuous student the " modern Socrates " was nothing more than a manufacturer of heaters, and the treatise bore amusing testimony to the danger of regarding greatness from only one point of view. Yet not a few better-informed persons, who are quick to smile at this piece of childish literature, have a fashion of falling into a similar error. They do not, to be sure, look upon the stove as the bright partic- ular triumph of Franklin's existence, but they are

2 Benjamin Franklin [1706-

prone to see the man in one light, and in one light alone. It matters not whether that depicts him in the guise either of statesman, philosopher, printer, or mere utilitarian ; the fact remains that to examine this heroic and yet essentially human figure without considering it as a whole is to lose all sense of its true proportion.

If, however, we take warning by the case of the boy and the stove, and give to Franklin the right perspective, we are impressed at once by the pic- turesque features of his career, and by the dra- matic elements with which it was frequently tinged. Perhaps the terms, '^ picturesque " and ^^ dramatic," seem startling to those who are apt to think of Frank- lin rather as a sage than as a man of action, yet the two adjectives are worthy of emphasis, and of more emphasis, indeed, than they usually receive. For, while this hero of an infant nation had nothing of the romantic in his spiritual or bodily equipment, his life was full of colour and stirring incident, with here and there a contrast almost theatrical in its nature. And of these contrasts none is more vivid than the one furnished by comparing the radically different surroundings which marked the earthly entrance and exit of Benjamin Franklin. He who ^ was to chat with kings (albeit poor specimens of the craft) and enjoy the incense of admiration as it came from many parts of the civilised world, and who was to die in the odour of an international reputation, began to work out his existence amid the not over- inspiring atmosphere of a soap-boiling and tallow- chandlering shop.

1727] The '' Father of the Man '' 3

Contrasts like this have since been reproduced in American history, and are often used to point a moral or adorn a biography, although there are in- stances of persons who, being thrown into the fierce light of celebrity, become anxious to conceal or to forget as much as possible the humbleness of their early years. There was none of this affectation about Franklin, and the story of his boyhood, which he tells in so entertaining and dispassionate a manner in the famous AutobiograpJiy ^"^ is peculiarly -refreshing at a time when there is a tendency in certain quarters of American life to attach vast im- portance to ancient lineage, and to linger a little too long and lovingly over the pedigrees of useless but aristocratic ancestors. Franklin was vain, after a frank, pardonable fashion, but there was in his com- position not an iota of false pride. He rather revelled in the fact of his being what is now styled a " self-made man." In the very first paragraph of the Autobiography he explains as one of his reasons for writing the memoir that " having emerged from the poverty and obscurity in which I was born and bred, to a state of affluence and some degree of reputation in the world, and having gone so far through life with a considerable share of felicity, the conducing means I made use of, which with the blessing of God so well succeeded, my posterity may

* The vicissitudes which befell the original copy of Franklin's Autobiography form in themselves an interesting episode, and are duly set forth by Mr. Bigelow in the first volume of the Complete Works of Beniamin Franklin, G, P. Putnam's Sons, New York, 1887.

4 Benjamin Franklin [no6-

like to know, as they may find some of them suit- able to their own situations, and therefore fit to be imitated."

And yet, even the self-successful author of the above lines owed something to his own ancestors, for they bequeathed to him that virility of character and clearness of mind which, like the presence of two guardian angels, influenced his whole life.

The Franklins from whom he took his name had kept a village smithy in Northamptonshire, Eng- land, for three centuries or more, and a rugged, honest, healthy lot of progenitors they seem to have been. Thomas Franklin, one of Benjamin's uncles, was a " chief mover of all public-spirited undertak- ings for the county or town of Northampton, and his own village," being endowed with much of the civic pride that was to shine, later on, in the nephew ; Benjamin, another uncle, who naturally took a laud- able interest in his namesake, had a sprightly mind, with an ingenuity not unworthy of the greater Ben, and a talent, like the latter, for writing indifferent verse; while Josiah Franklin, the father of our hero, was the happy possessor of a '' mechanical genius," a " sound understanding, and solid judgment in prudential matters, both in private and publick affairs." In short, it is only necessary to read the earlier portion of the Autobiography to be convinced, apart from other and more scientific proofs, that the law of heredity at times wields a mighty force.

Josiah Franklin, this sturdy Englishman with the sound understanding, became a Nonconformist, and thereupon left the old country in 1682 to seek thq

1727] The '' Father of the Man " 5

more congenial air of New England, bringing with him his wife and three children, and settling down peacefully in Boston. Here he discarded his trade of dyer to enter into the more remunerative business of soap-boiling and tallow-chandlering ; here the first Mistress Franklin had four more children and then died; and here, too, Josiah subsequently married Abiah Folger, an estimable woman whose memory would long since have sunk into oblivion had she not become in January, 1706 (January 6th, old style ; January i/th, new style), the mother of Benjamin. Were it not, likewise, for this natal incident, the good lady's father, Peter Folger, would hardly be known to fame in a hurried age, for the book in which he is mentioned, Cotton Mather's dust- covered Magnalia CJiristi Americana ^ is not to be found in those distributing centres of fame, the cir- culating libraries. But, as it happens, we listen with eagerness to what is written of old Peter in the Autobiography, and when we are told that he was a great advocate of liberty of conscience, the imagina- tion is quick to trace a likeness between grandfather and grandson.

The arrival of young Benjamin made Josiah Franklin the proud father of fifteen children, and, no doubt, incited the paterfamilias to renewed exer- tion in the manufacture of soap and candles, for the family had to be fed, and incomes, at the best, were not very large in primitive Boston. Those were frugal days, when every penny counted, and the boy was brought up in an economical yet kindly house- hold. Love of kindred and the husbanding of scant

6 Benjamin Franklin [1706-

resources must have been the prevailing virtues in this Puritan home, and both influences had their share in moulding the character of the youth who in after life was to be distinguished by an affectionate regard for his relations, and a financial wisdom which on occasion degenerated into parsimony. Furthermore, Josiah aimed to introduce at his table topics of conversation by no means confined to a discussion of what was spread thereon, and it was to this species of intellectual repast, wherein " little or no notice was ever taken of what related to the victuals," that Franklin owed his ability to main- tain, when he so desired, an absurdly simple diet. He could, and sometimes did, enjoy the flesh-pots of Egypt in more senses than one, but there was always behind the grosser phase of his nature the power of abstinence, and even of self-sacrifice. If he knew how to gratify his tastes he also knew how to subdue them, and thereby displayed strength of mind, if not consistency.

Up to a certain point the youthful years of the boy offer nothing very striking or significant, ex- cepting the fact that among the lads of his own age Ben was always the leader. Then, as later^ he had the singular faculty of getting into prominence more through strength of character than from any appar- ent effort on his part. Then, as always, he might have been ambitious, but his fertility of resource kept pace with his ambition, and the one helped the other toward success. After two years of school life, during which he failed dismally in arithmetic, strange to say, but learned to write a good hand, he

1727] The '^ Father of the Man " 7

was placed at the age of ten in his father's shop, where the cutting of candle-wicks, filling of moulds, and running of errands, gave the youngster plenty of employment. This proved conclusively that Josiah had abandoned his original intention of de- voting his youngest son to the service of the Church — a change of plan which may be considered as of ultimate benefit both to Ben and to the Church. And so everything indicated that he would develop into a soap-boiler and chandler of the approved type, succeed his father in due time, grow prosper- ous, marry, die, and be buried in oblivion.

Although in after life Franklin pointed out that cleanliness was next to godliness, he had no great affinity for soap so far as the making of it was con- cerned. He soon betrayed a vague restlessness, a longing for greater things, which perhaps had its most notable illustration in his passion for reading with avidity all the books he could place his hands on, theological pamphlets, the works of Bunyan, Plutarch's Lives (the latter as delightful now as then), Defoe's once famous Essay on Projects, and Cotton Mather's Essays to do Good. Mather advo- cated the burning of witches, like other well-meaning men of his ascetic cult, but for all that, he knew how to write Christian sentiments, and many years later, Franklin told the son of the pious Cotton that these essays had exerted a great influence upon him. So did the philanthropic Essay on Projects, wherein Defoe was so far in advance of his time as to suggest the establishment of colleges for girls — a heretical, not to say dangerous opinion for an age when a

8 Benjamin Franklin [1706-

woman of education was looked upon with suspicion, as something weird and unpleasant.

In the meantime Ben had evinced such an open aversion to his greasy surroundings that Josiah, after much fatherly consideration of his youngest son's prospects, apprenticed him to James Franklin, an older son, who was tempting fate in Boston as a printer. There had been some idea of making the boy learn the cutler's trade, but fortunately for posterity his cousin Samuel, to whom he was to be bound, wanted a substantial fee for the transaction (he had the true Franklin attribute of looking out for the pennies), and so the scheme came to naught. Thus the Church and cutlery had each in turn lost a quick-witted apprentice, and the world, which may have been deprived thereby of some poor sermons and sharp knives, would come out the gainer in the end. And yet the boy was not enthusiastic over his new trade. It was, of course, far more congenial to him than the soap-making business, but there was deep down in his childish breast that peculiar longing known as " wishing to go to sea." He got over the malady soon enough, and probably often laughed at it in years to come, when he had to cross the Atlantic in uncomfortable, uncleanly sailing packets, the unworthy predecessors of our" ocean greyhounds."

It can be easily imagined that the apprentice's love of reading found stimulation in the printing- office of James Franklin. Books were easier to bor- row, and friends to lend them proved more plentiful. And a little later, when the lad was fourteen or

1727] The '' Father of the Man" 9

fifteen, he tried dipping into poetry, or rather dog- gerel, but to no result other than that of finding how utterly unsuited he was to this field of composition. The versifying was soon abandoned, but the reading continued, and there was a well-defined ambition to excel in prose writing. An odd volume of the Spectator was triumphantly secured, the essays were read and then rewritten from memory, after which came the comparison with the original. That these comparisons were not always odious may be inferred from Franklin's admission that he " sometimes had the pleasure of fancying that in certain particulars of small import," he *' had been lucky enough to improve the method of the language." Even the Spectator was not above improvement.

When he was about sixteen years old the young printer read a book advocating a vegetable diet. He accordingly followed out for a time the precepts of the bucolic author, saved money thereby, and devoted the surplus pence to the acquisition of new volumes — a circumstance suggesting the rather cyni- cal question as to whether or not many boys of the present year, 1898, would half starve themselves in order to buy literature with the coin thus accruing. Then we find the vegetarian delving into Locke, Shaftesbury, and Collins, getting very unsettled in his religious views, and indulging much in arguments on the subject with persons whom he always under- took to vanquish, according to the insidious Socratic method of disputation. They must have looked upon him as a bit of a bore. It was the case of the youth filled to overflowing with the importance of

lo Benjamin Franklin [1706-

his newly acquired learning, and we all know that at this stage he is generally a safe young gentleman to avoid.

But these were boyish weaknesses. The real busi- ness and struggles of Franklin's life were about to begin in earnest, and he was first to try his hand at what we now term " journalism." The journalism of the past and the journalism of the present have, however, few points of likeness, and this is the more readily to be understood when we contrast one of the imposing newspapers of to-day, with its blanket- sheet editions, its throng of editors, printers, and miscellaneous employes, its enterprise and its prodi- gal expenditure of money in the search of news, with the petty pamphlet which modestly appeared in Boston during the latter part of September, 1690, and thus established a claim to being the " first American newspaper. " The number had four pages (the last page was blank), with two columns on a page, and the size of each page was seven by eleven inches ! Piihlick Occurrences Foreign and Domes- tic was the title of the sheet ; it was, according to the prospectus, to be published once a month, or oftener, " if any glut of occurrences happen," and was to have an account of " such considerable things as have arrived unto our Notice." The aims of the Occurrences were laudable, even ideal, and it is interesting in this era of libel suits and " yellow journalism " to mark that the publisher promised, " toward the Curing, or at least the Charming of the Spirit of Lying," that when " there appears any material mistake in anything that is collected,

1727] The '' Father of the Man " ii

it shall be corrected in the next." This advocate of truth — this really worthy forerunner of the "Fourth Estate " in America — began its career without advertisements, that feature so essential to the life of the modern paper, and without editorials. There are some cynics of to-day, by the way, who think that advertisement plays entirely too promi- nent a part in the management of the average news- paper, and who could even dispense with editorials. The career of Piihlick Occurrences was brief, despite the praiseworthy intentions of its founder. In four days the paper was suppressed, possibly be- cause the editor (or printer, as he was then termed) showed a tendency to discuss too freely the actions of those in authority. He had yielded to the temp- tation of writing editorials, and that doomed him. Fourteen years later John Campbell, the postmaster of Boston, started the News Letter, a stupid venture which finally attained the enormous circulation of three hundred copies, and was wont to print Euro- pean news anywhere from five to thirteen months late. Then, in December, 1719, came the Boston Gazette, founded by the new postmaster, William Brocker, and in the printing of this James Franklin was engaged. The postmaster lost his place; his successor bought the Gazette, and James, who was no longer employed to issue the sheet, began (August, 1 721) the publication of an enterprise of his own, the New England Coiirant. It was a lively affair, and what we should now characterise as essen- tially up to date; public matters were touched upon with independence and humour. The Gazette by

12 Benjamin Franklin [1706-

comparison seemed duller than ever, as did the Nezvs Letter. The three papers were soon engaged in a triangular warfare that would have done justice to the bickering spirit of three Arizona editors obliged by an unkind fate to live in the same town.

The young but rapidly expanding Benjamin jumped into this fray with nimbleness and ready wit. Not content with assisting in printing the paper, and then carrying it around the town to subscribers, he must needs try his hand at con- tributing to it. James Franklin, he tells us, "had some ingenious men among his friends, who amused themselves by writing little pieces for this paper, which gained it credit and made it more in demand, and these gentlemen often visited us. Hearing their conversations and their accounts of the appro- bation their papers were received with, I was excited to try my hand among them ; but, being still a boy, and suspecting that my brother would object to printing anything of mine in his paper if he knew it to be mine, I contrived to disguise my hand, and, writing an anonymous paper, I put it in at night, under the door of the printing-house. It was found in the morning, and communicated to his writing friends when they called in as usual. They read it, commented on it in my hearing, and I had the ex- quisite pleasure of finding it met with their appro- bation, and that, in their different guesses at the author, none were named but men of some charac- ter among us for learning and ingenuity."

A familiar story, to be sure, but like some pretty fairy-tale it bears repetition. And how one can

1727] The '' Father of the Man " 13

read between the lines the shrewdness which always ran through Franklin's character, like a wee bit of the fox lurking in the composition of some majestic lion! Ben suspected, no doubt, that too much ability on his part would bring down upon him the jealousy of a less brilliant brother, and so he chose to introduce his literary wares with secrecy. Those wares were, it is believed, the " Do Good Papers," a series of articles more or less after the Addisonian manner. One of them, representing a dream, was a fling at that young scholastic institution. Harvard College. The graduates of the college, typified in the dream as the Temple of Learning, did not all fare very well according to the imprudent young critic, for many of them " lived as poor as church- mice, being unable to dig, and ashamed to beg, and to live by their wits it was impossible." And yet, in time. Harvard would reward the writer with a degree.

The office of the Coiirant must have witnessed many an interesting incident, many an exciting de- bate, but none of them more interesting or more exciting, perhaps, than those which marked the small- pox controversy. This dread disease had made itself felt in Boston after the wholesale manner in which it was accustomed to stalk about, grim and re- morseless, during the early portion of the eighteenth century. The Mathers, more liberal in the art of medicine than in the treatment of witches, strongly advocated the new experiment of inoculation ; the Courant as resolutely opposed the innovation, and as a consequence there was hard feeling, and a war

14 Benjamin Franklin [noe-

of very bad words. Increase Mather did what later readers have done when the opinions of their papers were not to their liking. He stopped his subscrip- tion to the Coiiranty abused James Franklin in terms of the choicest vituperation, lamented the degener- acy of New England, and pointedly hinted at the expediency of suppressing the articles of the of- fender. In the meantime, the controversy (which waxed so high that some miscreant threw a fire- grenade into the Mather house) had the effect of increasing the circulation of the paper, and an ob- servant reader may be pardoned for suspecting that the publisher had, through all the din and unpleas- antness of battle, a keen idea of the value of adver- tising.

But greater troubles than inoculation disagree- ments were in store for the infant journal, and through these Benjamin was to make his debut as a publisher and editor. The Cojirant had criticised with asperity the ways and measures of the Boston authorities, who, biding their hour, finally had James Franklin brought before them for printing a supposed news paragraph poking fun at their slow- ness of action. The Council interrogated the printer. He declined to name the writer of the paragraph. Ben also sturdily refused an answer to the same question — an independence of spirit for which he was excused on the ground, presumably, that an ap- prentice should not be called upon to testify against the interests of his master. James, less fortunate than his brother, spent a month in prison. During that time Ben directed the fortunes of the rapidly

1727] The '' Father of the Man '' 15

growing if somewhat adventurous Courant. Six months later James printed a bitter article reflecting so savagely upon the governing powers that he was forbidden thereafter to publish the Courant or any other paper, unless under the supervision of the Secretary of the province.

" There was a consultation held in our printing-house among his friends [says Franklin, in writing of his brother's predicament], what he should do in this case. Some proposed to evade the order by changing the name of the paper ; but my brother, seeing inconven- iences in that, it was finally concluded on as a better way, to let it be printed for the future under the name of Benjamin Franklin ; and to avoid the censure of the Assembly, that might fall on him as still printing it by his apprentice, the contrivance was that my old indent- ure should be returned to me, with a full discharge on the back of it, to be shown on occasion, but to secure to him the benefit of my serv- ice, I was to sign new indentures for the remainder of the term, which were to be kept private."

As Franklin adds, a ** very flimsy scheme it was," but it was put into effect, and Benjamin became the ostensible printer of the Courant. The elder brother was in reality the controlling spirit, but the ex- apprentice wrote for the paper, and often turned the dart of his wit upon the austerity and what he chose to consider the hypocrisy of certain professors of the accepted religion. In short, the Courant seems to have been anything but a conservative sheet, and its articles sometimes amused, and sometimes scandal- ised the Puritans who read it, ignorant as many of them were that an important contributor to that fun and scandal was the sprightly Ben himself. The wonder of it is that the Courant was allowed to exist at all, for the press was in its infancy, and there were

i6 Benjamin Franklin [1706-

no theories as to liberty of public opinion, so far as the aforesaid liberty might concern a printer. In the eyes of the Boston magistrates a paper was something to be tolerated or suppressed according to their own august will.

As it happened, the Cotirant was soon to lose the services of its ostensible publisher. The two brothers had not been on the best of terms of late; Ben was saucy and provoking and puffed up, no doubt, with a boyish sense of his own talents and importance, while James, on his side, had become jealous of the youngster. To the impertinences of the lad the elder responded with blows, and it may be imagined that this state of affairs was not to last very long. As a result of some fresh altercation Ben made up his mind to leave the printing-office, shrewdly sur- mising that, his old indentures having been can- celled, and his brother being afraid to produce the new ones (for fear of exposing his little conspiracy against the Council), it would be very easy to depart unmolested by the law, which bound an apprentice to fill out his term. Not a strictly honourable episode in Franklin's history, and he afterward was quick to admit that he took an unfair advantage of his brother — " one of the first errata of my life," he terms it. But that point of honour had no con- sideration at the moment, so the inevitable break came. Nor was James more magnanimous, for he asked the other printers of Boston to refuse employ- ment to his brother.

This fraternal move decided the apprentice to shake the dust of the Hub from his feet, and none

1727] The '' Father of the Man " 17

the less was he impelled thereto upon reflecting that he had become, by his Courant diatribes, a persona non grata to not a few of his fellow-townsmen. There were many things in his native place which he would have reformed, and he had already learned that to be a reformer is not, necessarily, to be popu- lar. Furthermore, Josiah Franklin sympathised with James, and no encouragement under the paternal roof-tree was rebellious Ben to expect. Accord- ingly, with the aid of John Collins, a " bookish lad " with whom he used to discuss and settle to his own satisfaction the affairs of the universe, he ran off, or rather sailed off, to New York in a sloop com- manded by a friendly captain. He soon found himself in that city (October, 1723), at the age of seventeen, without recommendation to any of its inhabitants, and with no more money in his pocket than the little he had raised by the sale of his precious books. This was the youthful Benjamin Franklin, as revealed to us in the Autobiography, and there is no reason to doubt the truth of the picture — a rugged, sturdy fellow, full of confidence in himself, canny, clear of head, with undefined ambitions, and if not always as disinterested as one might wish, at least, full of that indomitable spirit which was to waft him, slowly but steadily, toward a noble success.

It has been said that a printer who understands his trade need never starve. Probably, Ben was im- pressed with the force of this axiom, for upon arriv- ing in New York he at once sought out William Bradford, the pioneer typesetter of Pennsylvania,

i8 Benjamin Franklin [1706-

now a practical exile from the Quaker province. The story of the young man's experience during this journey is familiar enough. How he was ad- vised by Bradford to go to Philadelphia (where lived his son, Andrew Bradford), how he took the veter- an's advice, crossed over to Amboy by boat, after several exciting adventures, including his rescue of a drunken Dutchman from drowning, and how he trudged on foot through New Jersey to quiet Bur- lington— these bits of itinerary have been described again and again, as, no doubt, they will be re- described for many a year to come. A good story is always in order, and thus even the jaded historian finds something fresh and entertaining in the early wandering of the man whose son was, in after years, to become Governor of the very State through which the father wended his humble, uncomfortable way. Contrasts of this kind never lose their interest.

At Burlington Franklin lodged with an old woman of limited purse, but unlimited heart ; there he managed to board a boat destined for Philadelphia, and reached his future home on a Sunday morning. It was a curious entry into Quaker life, when viewed in the light of subsequent events, and the hero of it never ceased to revel, pardonably enough, in the memory of it.

" I was in my working dress, my best clothes being to come round by sea. I was dirty from my journey ; my pockets were stuffed out with shirts and stockings, and I knew no soul, nor where to look for lodging. I was fatigued with travelling, rowing, and want of rest ; I was very hungry ; and my whole stock of cash consisted of a Dutch dollar, and about a shilling in copper. The latter I gave the people of the boat for my passage."

1727] The '' Father of the Man " 19

He bought three puffy rolls at a baker's — Philadel- phia bakers still sell puffy rolls — and putting a roll under each arm, and eating the third, walked up Market Street, passing a house where stood young Miss Read, his future wife, who was much struck with the ridiculous appearance of the boy» That is the incident as Franklin has recorded it, and while skeptical persons have ventured to hint that the philosopher chose to paint the scene in colours a trifle too vivid for actual fact, there is no necessity to agree with them. Perhaps, if it were less familiar, less hackneyed, no one would dream of smiling.

The wanderer spent his first night in Philadelphia at a tavern on Water Street, and repaired the next morning to the printing-office of Andrew Bradford. There, to his surprise, he found Andrew's father, who had travelled on from New York on horseback, a mode of conveyance which the Bostonians had not been able to afford. There was no opening for the boy with Bradford ; possibly Keimer, another printer lately established in town, might aid him. So to Keimer Benjamin went, accompanied by old Brad- ford. After a conversation in which Keimer made the apprentice show his proficiency as a typesetter, and in which he incidentally exposed his aims and business secrets to Bradford (whom he did not recognise), it was agreed that the newcomer should be given work in a short time. Then Bradford de- parted, and Keimer was disagreeably surprised upon learning that he had been unbosoming himself to the father of his rival. As for Franklin, he had already discovered that Bradford was a " crafty old

20 Benjamin Franklin [^706-

sophister," who had willingly drawn out the con- fiding Keimer, and that the latter was a *' mere novice." Wise Ben ! You understood human na- ture even then.

Keimer has been characterised by Franklin as a good deal of a knave, yet withal something of a scholar, and very ignorant of the world. He was an indifferent versifier, who " set up " his own doggerel as it came into his head, and thus saved anyone else the affliction of a compulsory perusal of his poems. With him the stranger soon got employment, lodg- ing, however, with Andrew Bradford, and finally moving from the latter's home to the house of Mr. Read, father of the before-mentioned young lady, who was later to become Mrs, Franklin. By this time his chest of clothes had arrived from Boston, and the youth, who was not impervious in those salad days or a little later to the charms of feminin- ity, flattered himself that he made a more becoming appearance in the eyes of Miss Read than he had done when he startled her with his array of puffy rolls. Thus life ran on placidly for several months, as Franklin laboured for the poetic Keimer, spent pleasant evenings with young Quakers of literary tastes, and saved his money. He tried to forget Boston, and the old times there, but, likely enough, did not altogether succeed. Still he took comfort in the thought that no one in New England, barring his friend, the argumentative Collins, knew whither he had gone. Yet one of his family, a brother-in- law, the master of a sloop trading between Boston and the Delaware, heard of the runaway, wrote to

1727] The " Father of the Man " 21

him from New Castle, spoke of the grief of Ben's family over his departure, and begged him to return. To all of which Master Franklin wrote a polite reply, declined to play the Prodigal Son, and convinced the sailor, we are told, that he was not so much in the wrong as the latter had believed.

This letter, strangely enough, brought the printer to the admiring attention of Sir William Keith, then Governor of the province of Pennsylvania. It was an attention which Franklin would live to wish that he had never excited. The beginning of the affair seemed, however, full of promise. Keith was in New Castle when the reply to the brother-in-law arrived, saw it, and was greatly impressed that it should have been written by so young a fellow. When he returned to Philadelphia the Governor de- termined to seek out the truant who could so ably defend himself, and one day when Keimer and his apprentice were hard at work the two were startled to see his Excellency and Colonel French, of New Castle, standing in front of the house. Keimer, thinking the visit intended for him, hurried down- stairs, only to find that it was the employe, not the master, whom the distinguished gentlemen wanted. Keith overwhelmed Franklin with cheap professions of friendliness, hurried him off with the Colonel to a neighbouring inn, and there, over a few glasses of Madeira, the Governor actually proposed that his protege oi an hour should set up in business for him- self, to which end he promised to exert all his influ- ence. Keith would not take no for an answer; he would write a letter to Franklin's father, asking