CHAPTER XLI
Doctor Franklin now began to find his situation in London extremely unpleasant. For twelve years, like heaven's own minister of peace, he had pressed the olive-branch on the British ministry; and yet after all, their war-hawks could hardly tolerate the sight of him. They even went so far as to call him "the hoary headed villain, who first stirred up the Americans to rebellion." As soon as he could obtain his passports he left England.
His old friend, Strahan, advised him to continue in that country, for that America would soon be filled with tumult and bloodshed. He replied, "No, sir, where liberty is, there is my country."
Unbounded was the joy of the Americans on the return of so great a patriot and statesman. The day following he was elected by the legislature of Pennsylvania, a member of Congress. The following letters, in extract, to his constant friend, and the friend of science and liberty, the celebrated doctor Priestley, will show how full his hands were
"Philadelphia, July 7, 1775.
"Dear Friend,
"Britain has begun to burn our sea port towns; secure, I suppose, that we shall never be able to return the outrage in kind. She may doubtless destroy them all. But is this the way to recover our friendship and trade? She must certainly be distracted; for no tradesman out of Bedlam ever thought of increasing the number of his customers by knocking them on the head; or of enabling them to pay their debts, by burning their houses.
"My time was never more fully employed. I breakfast before six. At six I hasten to the committee of safety for putting the province in a state of defence. At nine I go to Congress, which sits till after four. It will scarcely be credited in Britain, that men can be as diligent with us, from zeal for the public good, as with you, for thousands per annum. Such is the difference between uncorrupted new states, and corrupted old ones.
"Great frugality and great industry are now become fashionable here: gentlemen, who used to entertain with two or three courses, pride themselves now in treating with simple beef and pudding. By these means, and the stoppage of our consumptive trade with Britain, we shall be better able to pay our voluntary taxes for the support of our troops. Our savings in the article of trade, amount to near five millions of sterling per annum.—Yours, most affectionately,
"B. FRANKLIN."
In another letter to the same, dated October 3d, he says:
"Tell our dear good friend, doctor Price, who sometimes has his doubts and despondencies about our firmness, that America is determined and unanimous: a very few tories and placemen excepted, who will probably soon export themselves. Britain, at the expense of three millions has killed in this campaign, one hundred and fifty yankees! which is 20,000 pounds sterling a head; and at Bunker's hill she gained half a mile of ground! During the same time she lost, at one place, near one thousand men, and we have had a good sixty thousand children born in America. From these data, with the help of his mathematical head, lord North will easily calculate the time and expense necessary to kill us all, and conquer our whole territory.—
"I am yours, B. FRANKLIN."
In another letter to the same, and of the same date, he says:
"Britain still goes on to goad and exasperate. She despises us too much; and seems to forget the Italian proverb, that 'there is no little enemy.' I am persuaded the body of the British people are our friends; but your lying gazettes may soon make them our enemies—and I see clearly that we are on the high road to mutual enmity, hatred, and detestation. A separation will of course be inevitable. It is a million of pities so fair a plan, as we have hitherto been engaged in for increasing strength and empire with public felicity, should be destroyed by the mangling hands of a few blundering ministers. It will not be destroyed: God will protect and prosper it: you will only exclude yourselves from any share of it. We hear that more ships and troops are coming out. We know you may do us a great deal of mischief, but we are determined to bear it patiently; but if you flatter yourselves with beating us into submission, you know neither the people nor the country.
"I am ever your's, most affectionately,
"B. FRANKLIN."
This letter of Doctor Franklin's is the first thing I have seen that utters a whisper about Independence. It was, however, a prophetical whisper, and soon found its accomplishment in the source that Franklin predicted—the barbarity of Britain. To see war waged against them by a power whom they had always gloried in as their Mother Country—to see it waged because as the children of Englishmen, they had only asked for the common rights of Englishmen—to see it waged with a savageness unknown among civilized nations, and all the powers of earth and hell, as it were, stirred up against them—the Indians with their bloody tomahawks and scalping knives—the negroes with their midnight hoes and axes—the merciless flames let loose on their midwinter towns—with prisons, chains, and starvation of their worthiest citizens. "Such miserable specimens," as Franklin termed them, "of the British government," produced every where in the colonies a disposition to detest and avoid it as a complication of robbery, murder, famine, fire and pestilence.
On the 7th of June, resolutions respecting independence, were moved and seconded in Congress. Doctor Franklin threw all the weight of his wisdom and character into the scale in favour of independence.
"Independence," said he, "will cut the Gordian knot at once, and give us freedom.
"I. Freedom from the oppressive kings, and endless wars, and mad politics, and forced religion of an unreasonable and cruel government.
"II. Freedom to choose a fair, and cheap, and reasonable government of our own.
"III. Freedom to live in friendship with all nations; and
"IV. Freedom to trade with all."
On the 4th of July, the Independence of the United States was declared. Immediately on the finishing of this great work, doctor Franklin, with a committee of the first talents in Congress, prepared a number of very masterly addresses to the courts of Europe, informing what the United States had done; assigning their reasons for so doing; and tendering in the most affectionate terms, the friendship and trade of the young nation. The potentates of Europe were, generally, well pleased to hear that a new star had risen in the west, and talked freely of opening their treasures and presenting their gifts of friendship, &c.
But the European power that seemed most to rejoice in this event was the French. In August, doctor Franklin was appointed by Congress to visit the French court, for the purpose of forming an alliance with that powerful people. It was his friend, Doctor B. Rush, who first announced to him the choice which Congress had made, adding, at the same time, his hearty congratulations on that account.
"Why, doctor," replied he with a smile, "I am now, like an old broom, worn down to the stump in my country's service—near seventy years old. But such as I am, she must, I suppose, have the last of me." Like the brave Dutch republicans, each with his wallet of herrings on his back, when they went forth to negotiate with the proud Dons, so did doctor Franklin set out to court the great French nation, with no provisions for his journey, but a few hogsheads of tobacco. He was received in France, however, with a most hearty welcome, not only as an envoy from a brave people fighting for their rights, but also as the famed American philosopher, who by his paratonerres (lightning rods) had disarmed the clouds of their lightnings, and who, it was hoped, would reduce the colossal power of Great Britain.
He had not been long in Paris, before the attention of all the courts of Europe was attached to him, by a publication, wherein he demonstrated, that, the young, healthy, and sturdy republic of America, with her simple manners, laborious habits, and millions of fresh land and produce, would be a much safer borrower of money, than the old, profligate, and debt-burthened government of Britain. The Dutch and French courts, in particular, read his arguments with such attention, that they soon began to make him loans. To the French cabinet he pointed out, "the inevitable destruction of their fleets, colonies, and commerce, in case of a re-union of britain and america." There wanted but a grain to turn the trembling balance in favour of America.
But it was the will of Heaven to withhold that grain a good long while. And Franklin had the mortification to find, that although the French were an exceedingly polite people; constantly eulogizing General Washington and the Brave Bostonians, on every little victory; and also for their tobacco, very thriftily smuggling all the fire arms and ammunition they could into the United States, yet they had no notion of coming out manfully at once upon the British lion, until they should first see the American Eagle lay the monster on his back. Dr. Franklin, of course, was permitted to rest on his oars, at Passy, in the neighbourhood of Paris, His characteristic philanthropy, however, could not allow him to be idle at a court, whose pride and extravagance were so horribly irreconcileable with his ideas of the true use of riches, i.e. Independence for ourselves, and Beneficence to others. And he presently came out in the Paris Gazette with the following master piece of Wit and Economics.
To the Editors of the Paris Journal
Gentlemen,
I was the other evening in a grand company, where the new lamp of Messrs. Quinquet and Lange was introduced, and much admired for its splendour; but a general inquiry was made, whether the oil it consumed, was not in proportion to the light it afforded; in which case there would be no saving in the use of it. No one present could satisfy us on that point; which all agreed ought to be known, it being a very desirable thing to lessen, if possible, the expense of lighting our apartments, when every other article of family expense was so much augmented.
I was pleased to see this general concern for economy; for I love economy exceedingly.
I went home, and to bed, three or four hours after midnight, with my head full of the subject. An accidental sudden noise awaked me about six in the morning, when I was surprised to find my room filled with light; and I imagined, at first, that a number of these lamps had been brought into it; but rubbing my eyes, I perceived the light came in at my windows. I got up, and looked out to see what might be the occasion of it, when I saw the sun just rising above the horizon, whence he poured his rays plentifully into my chamber, my domestic having negligently omitted, the preceding evening, to close the shutters.
I looked at my watch, which goes very well, and found that it was but six o'clock; and still thinking it something extraordinary that the sun should rise so early, I looked into the almanack; where I found it to be the hour given for its rising on that day.
Your readers, who, with me, have never seen any signs of sunshine before noon, and seldom regard the astronomical part of the almanack, will be as much astonished as I was, when they hear of his rising so early; and especially when I assure them that he gives light as soon as he rises. I am certain of the fact. I saw it with my own eyes. And having repeated this observation the three following mornings, I found always precisely the same result.
Yet so it happens, that when I speak of this discovery to others, I can easily perceive by their countenances, though they forbear expressing it in words, that they do not quite believe me. One, indeed, who is a learned natural philosopher, has assured me that I must certainly be mistaken as to the circumstance of the light coming into my room; for it being well known, as he says, that there could be no light abroad at that hour, it follows that none could enter from without; and that of consequence, my windows being accidentally left open, instead of letting in the light, had only served to let out the darkness.
This event has given rise, in my mind, to several serious and important reflections. I considered that, if I had not been awakened so early in the morning, I should have slept six hours longer by the light of the sun, and in exchange have lived six hours the following night by candle-light; and the latter being a much more expensive light than the former, my love of economy induced me to muster up what little arithmetic I was master of, and to make some calculations, which I shall give you, after observing, that utility is, in my opinion, the test of value in matters of invention, and that a discovery which can be applied to no use, or is not good for something, is good for nothing.
I took for the basis of my calculation, the supposition that there are 100,000 families in Paris; and that these families consume in the night half a pound of candles, per hour. I think this a moderate allowance, taking one family with another; for though I believe some consume less, I know that many consume a great deal more. Then, estimating seven hours per day, as the medium quantity between the time of the sun's rising and ours, and there being seven hours, of course, per night, in which we burn candles, the account will stand thus:
In 12 months there are nights 365; hours of each night in which we burn candles 7; multiplication gives for the total number of hours 2555. These multiplied by 100,000, the number of families in Paris, give 255,000,000 hours spent at Paris by candle-light, which, at half a pound of wax and tallow per hour, give 127,750,000 pounds, worth, at 3 livres the pound, 383,250,000 livres; upwards of thirty millions of dollars!!!
An immense sum! that the city of Paris might save every year, by the economy of using sunshine instead of candles.—If it should be said, that the people are very apt to be obstinately attached to old customs, and that it will be difficult to induce them to rise before noon, consequently my discovery can be of little use, I answer, we must not despair. I believe all, who have common sense, as soon as they have learnt, from this paper, that it is daylight when the sun rises, will contrive to rise with him; and to compel the rest, I would propose the following regulations:
First. Let a tax be laid of a louis, (a guinea,) per window, on every window that is provided with shutters to keep out the light of the sun.
Second. Let guards be placed in the shops of the wax and tallow-chandlers; and no family be permitted to be supplied with more than one pound of candles per week.
Third. Let guards be posted, to stop all the coaches, &c. that would pass the streets after sunset, except those of physicians, surgeons, and midwives.
Fourth. Every morning, as soon as the sun rises, let all the bells in the city be set ringing; and if that be not sufficient let cannon be fired in every street, to awake the sluggards effectually, and make them open their eyes to see their true interest.
All the difficulty will be in the first two or three days: after which the reformation will be as natural and easy as the present irregularity. Oblige a man to rise at four in the morning, and, it is more than probable, he shall go willingly to bed at eight in the evening; and having had eight hours sleep, he will rise more willingly at four, in the morning following.
For the great benefit of this discovery, thus freely communicated and bestowed by me, on the good city of Paris, I demand neither place, pension, exclusive privilege, nor any other reward whatever. I expect only to have the honour of it. And yet I know there are little envious minds, who will, as usual, deny me this, and say that my invention was known to the ancients. I will not dispute that the ancients knew that the sun would rise at certain hours. They possibly had almanacks that predicted it; but it does not follow, thence, that they knew that he gave light an soon as he rose. This is what I claim as my discovery. If the ancients knew it, it must long since have been forgotten; for it certainly was unknown to the moderns, at least to the Parisians; which to prove, I need use but one plain simple argument. They are as well instructed and prudent a people as exist, any where in the world; all professing, like myself, to be lovers of economy; and, from the many heavy taxes required from them by the necessities of the state, have surely reason to be economical. I say it is impossible that so sensible a people, under such circumstances, should have lived so long by the smoky, unwholesome and enormously expensive light of candles, if they had really known that they might have as much pure light of the sun for nothing. I am, &c.
An ABONNE.
And now, as Dr. Franklin is permitted to breathe a little from his herculean toils, let us, good reader, breathe a little too, and amuse ourselves with the following anecdotes.
Nothing can better illustrate the spirit, which Dr. Franklin carried with him to the court of Louis XVI., and the spirit he found there.
On Dr. Franklin's arrival at Paris, as plenipotentiary from the United States, during the revolution, the king expressed a wish to see him immediately. As there was no going to the court of France in those days without permission of the wigmaker, a wigmaker of course was sent for. In an instant a richly dressed Monsieur, his arms folded in a prodigious muff of furs, and a long sword by his side, made his appearance. It was the king's Wigmaker, with his servant in livery, a long sword by his side too, and a load of sweet scented band-boxes, full of "de wig," as he said, "de superb wig for de great docteer Franklin." One of the wigs was tried on—a world too small! Band-box after band-box was tried; but all with the same ill success! The wigmaker fell into the most violent rage, to the extreme mortification of Dr. Franklin, that a gentleman so bedecked with silks and perfumes, should, notwithstanding, be such a child. Presently, however, as in all the transports of a grand discovery, the wigmaker cried out to Dr. Franklin, that he had just found out where the fault lay—"not in his wig as too small; O no, by gar! his wig no too small; but de docteer's head too big; great deal too big." Franklin, smiling, replied, that the fault could hardly lie there; for that his head was made of God Almighty himself, who was not subject to err. Upon this the wigmaker took in a little; but still contended that there must be something the matter with Dr. Franklin's head. It was at any rate, he said, out of the fashion. He begged Dr. Franklin would only please for remember, dat his head had not de honeer to be made in Parree. No, by gar! for if it had been made in Parree, it no bin more dan half such a head. "None of the French Noblesse," he swore, "had a head any ting like his. Not de great duke d'Orleans, nor de grand monarque himself had half such a head as docteer Franklin. And he did not see," he said, "what business any body had wid a head more big dan de head of de grand monarque."
Pleased to see the poor wigmaker recover his good humour, Dr. Franklin could not find in his heart to put a check to his childish rant, but related one of his fine anecdotes, which struck the wigmaker with such an idea of his wit, that as he retired, which he did, bowing most profoundly, he shrugged his shoulders, and with a look most significantly arch, he said:
"Ah, docteer Frankline! docteer Frankline! I no wonder your head too big for my wig. By gar I 'fraid your head be too big for all de French nationg."
THE BLUE YARN STOCKINGS
When Dr. Franklin was received at the French court as American minister, he felt some scruples of conscience in complying with their fashions as to dress. "He hoped," he said to the minister, "that as he was himself a very plain man, and represented a plain republican people, the king would indulge his desire to appear at court in his usual dress. Independent of this, the season of the year, he said, rendered the change from warm yarn stockings to fine silk, somewhat dangerous."
The French minister made him a bow, but said, that the fashion was too sacred a thing for him to meddle with, but he would do himself the honour to mention it to his Majesty.
The king smiled, and returned word that Dr. Franklin was welcome to appear at court in any dress he pleased. In spite of that delicate respect for strangers, for which the French are so remarkable, the courtiers could not help staring, at first, at Dr. Franklin's quaker-like dress, and especially his "Blue Yarn Stockings." But it soon appeared as though he had been introduced upon this splendid theatre only to demonstrate that, great genius, like true beauty, "needs not the foreign aid of ornament." The court were so dazzled with the brilliancy of his mind that they never looked at his stockings. And while many other ministers who figured in all the gaudy fashions of the day are now forgotten, the name of Dr. Franklin is still mentioned in Paris with all the ardour of the most affectionate enthusiasm.