Last summer, I read The Whole Five Feet by Christopher R. Beha, an account of that author’s journey through the Harvard Classics. I was struck by the fact that the first work in that series was Benjamin Franklin’s autobiography, so it seemed a natural choice for my year of Americana.
Despite the efforts of an excellent high school teacher, my knowledge of American history is quite poor, so Franklin’s name conjured in my mind only a few vague notions relating the Declaration of Independence and a kite. At least I came to the work with few preconceptions.
The first part of the four-part book was written in 1771, when Franklin was 65. It recounts his apprenticeship under his brother James, a Boston printer. The younger Franklin chafes against the apprenticeship and finds a rather underhanded means of escaping it. James retaliated by blacklisting his brother among the Boston printers, forcing Ben to look elsewhere for a job. Ben eventually finds work in Philadelphia and after some years begins a printing house of his own and purchases the Philadelphia Gazette.
An interesting event during these years was the foundation of the Junto, a “Club, for mutual Improvement,” at which members debated “Point[s] of Morals, Political or Natural Philosophy.” Such more-or-less secret societies were quite common at the time, bu this one had an interesting twist that sounds a bit sinister to modern ears. Having set a fixed number of members at twelve, the Junto decided, at Franklin’s suggestion, “that every Member separately should endeavour to form a subordinate Club, with the same Rules … and without informing them of the Connexion with the Junto.” Benefits of this scheme included “the Promotion of our particular Interests in Business by more extensive Recommendations; and the Increase of our Influence in public Affairs & our Power of doing Good by spreading thro’ the several Clubs the Sentiments of the Junto.” Yes, Virginia, some conspiracies are real.
Part One concludes with Franklin’s founding of the “Mother of all the N American Subscription Libraries now so numerous.” (He discusses this further in Part Two, apparently having forgotten that he did so in Part One, not having access to that manuscript.) The idea began with an unsuccessful attempt to share a centrally-located book collection among members of the Junto. “The Institution soon manifested its Utility, was imitated by other Towns and in other Provinces, and Librarys were augmented by Donations, Reading became fashionable, and our people having no publick Amusements to divert their Attention from Study became better acquainted with Books, and in a few Years were observ’d by Strangers to be better instructed & more intelligent than People of the same Rank generally are in other Countries.” In another passage, Franklin hypothesizes that the libraries “may have contributed in some degree to the Stand so generally made throughout the Colonies in Defense of their Privileges.” Education and liberty are firmly linked in Franklin’s mind, although a cynic might point out a printer and pamphleteer with a taste for political influence would have a natural interest in public literacy.
Part Two includes Franklin’s plan for self-improvement. He creates a list of thirteen virtues that he wants to cultivate and creates score cards on which he marks offenses against those virtues at the end of each day. The list is impressive and demonstrates the distinction that Franklin draws between morality and religion. Like many of the founding fathers, Franklin seems to have been a Deist, and adverse to religious partisanship. Consistent with his interest in the public good, he favors those teachings that address moral behavior rather than speculative philosophy. Accordingly, while his list mentions Jesus (and Socrates) as examples of humility, there is no mention of God nor of peculiarly religious virtues (e.g., prayer, or attending services).
We learn more about Franklin’s religious views in Part Three, which includes his plan to found a religious sect to be called the Society of the Free and Easy. The creed “containing as I thought the Essentials of every known Religion, and being free of every thing that might shock the Professors of any Religion,” insists on monotheism and immortality of the soul, but we can hardly fault an American of his time for his ignorance of eastern religion. The proposed sect remained but an idea due to Franklin’s “then narrow Circumstances, and the Necessity I was under of sticking close to my Business.”
By this time, Franklin is clearly established as an important figure in the Colonies. He wields his influence (and that of the Junto) to good effect in projects such as developing a firefighting brigade, paving roads, and establishing a public auditorium with an ecumenical board of directors. He is remarkably effective in raising funds for these projects. He mentions a case in which a preacher comes to Philadelphia and asks for Franklin’s aide in getting subscribers for a new Presbyterian meeting house. “Unwilling to make myself disagreeable to my fellow Citizens, by too frequently soliciting their Contributions, I absolutely refus’d.” I had to laugh at this, since he does seem to “solicit Contributions” with considerable frequency.
We now finally reach Franklin’s scientific endeavors, which have until now scarcely been mentioned. Sadly, Franklin tells us more of the reception of his writings than about the lab work itself. Although some of his early papers on electricity were initially “laught at,” they were later assembled into a book. This was widely translated, and Franklin’s views generally accepted. In 1756 he was elected a Fellow of the Royal Society for his electrical research. Peter Collinson and John Fothergill both served as his advocates within the scientific community.
Part Four is a very brief account of some failed diplomatic work that Franklin engaged in with England regarding taxation of the Colonies. Sadly, he never completed his plan for the autobiography and it ends abruptly, but with a foreshadowing of the Revolution.
I found this short book to be a thoroughly enjoyable read. Franklin’s literary voice is warm, honest, and engaging. If he dwells a little too much on his own accomplishments, we can hardly blame him, as they are considerable. If you want a glimpse of the human face of an American icon, I can’t imagine a better book.