Interview with Ben Franklin - Part 1

Let me introduce myself. In my time I’ve been known by many names, but most people call me Jack; I'm a traveller and a history buff. I’m less interested in battles, wars and other historical events than I am in the people who had an effect on history, people who by their very actions altered the course of history. I’m a busy man, but when time permits, I like to go and meet the people who helped shape our planet’s history. Today I'm in Philadelphia in the year of our Lord 1788 to meet someone who had more of an influence than most. I'm here to interview Benjamin Franklin.

Benjamin Franklin lived in a time and a place of great change, when one man could do great things. Perhaps more than any other at that time, Franklin did just that. Being one of many children, his father could only afford to send him to school for two years. After that, the young Benjamin taught himself, reading every book he could get his hands on. This love of books led his father to decide that Benjamin should become a printer, and so he was apprenticed to his brother aged 12. He ran away to Philadelphia aged 17, but continued to work as a printer, and by 1730, had set up his own printing business. Whatever else he became in his life: author, politician, scientist, inventor and diplomat, he always thought of himself foremost as a printer. His newspapers, almanacs and other writings were widely read, and helped shape the minds of the colonists; his works as a politician and civic activist had a big impact on his adopted town and the fledgling country. Perhaps most importantly however, he was one of the few men without which an independent America would not have survived its infancy. A signatory of the Declaration of Independence, he helped write the US Constitution and as a diplomat he secured an alliance with France that prevented Britain from reclaiming its rebellious colonies. In the great book of human history, he was a tiny speck but the influence he had on its pages cannot be underestimated.

Following the Revolutionary War, Franklin went to Paris as America’s first ambassador to France, coming home in 1785. Today I am meeting him in the Indian Queen Tavern on the corner of Market Street and 4th Street and just along the road from his home. The tavern seems as appropriate place as any to meet the great man; he is known to have visited here from time to time, and just last year it was home to five of the delegates to the Constitutional Convention, whom Franklin met here on at least one occasion. From the outside it has an unassuming look to it, green painted brick on the front, red on the side. Colourfully painted houses were common in the colonies, brightening up the drab grey stone. The tavern sign hangs down above the door, silent, no stereotypical creak to be heard.

I went inside and took a seat at a table towards the back of the room, away from the noisy bar, and waited. It wasn’t long before I was joined by my guest. Punctuality was obviously important to him. To my surprise, he seemed genuinely pleased to see me – purporting to be from a British newspaper I wasn’t entirely sure how receptive he’d be. His face was remarkably unlined, the only real sign of his advancing years was the wavy grey hair that reached down to his shoulders. He had matching grey eyes that peered at me over his moon-rimmed spectacles, and a gentle half-amused smile.

“Thank you for coming. Can I get you anything to drink?”

“A glass of wine would be most welcome, thank you.”

I returned moments later with two large glasses of Madeira wine. After taking a small sip, I began with a few pleasantries but I already new Franklin was not one for small talk so I soon moved on to the interview itself.

“I’d like to start off at the beginning if I may. You were born and grew up in Boston, but when you were 17 you ran away here to Philadelphia. What made you move?”

He was silent for a few moments, as if his mind had momentarily transported itself to another time and place, many years ago. I was going to ask him the question again when he finally spoke.

“I was apprenticed to my brother James when, in 1720 or 1721 I think, he proceeded to print and publish a newspaper ‘The New England Courant’. A few of my brother’s friends would write small pieces for the paper and gain much credit from the undertaking. I decided it sounded like a good idea, and tried my hand at writing a piece, but suspecting that James would not knowingly print anything of mine I disguised my writing and wrote in anonymously. I was delighted to find it had been printed, and so I continued in this vein for sometime. When my brother found out, he was not pleased. This, I think, was the start of our disagreements, which came to a head when I was 17 and I decided to leave him. Out of spite perhaps, he made it so I wouldn’t get another printing job in Boston so I decided I must leave.

“Why did you choose Philadelphia?”

“I didn’t, not at first. A friend of mine arranged for my passage on a sloop going to New York. I paid for my passage by selling a few books. Three days later, I arrived in New York with not more than a few pennies to my name, three hundred miles from home in a strange place. I offered myself as a workman to William Bradford, an old printer. He didn’t have need of me, but suggested I go to Philadelphia where his son was in need of a good worker. So I proceeded to Philadelphia as soon as I could find a boat to take me.”

“What was your first day in Philadelphia like?”

“I arrived at about eight or nine o’clock on a Sunday morning. I was tired, dirty from the journey and very hungry. After landing at Market Street wharf, I walked up the street and saw a boy eating some bread. Asking where I bought it, he directed me to a bakers where I bought three penny worth of bread. I got three large rolls for my money, and must have looked a sight with one roll under each arm while eating the other. After eating my fill, I quenched my thirst with a draught of river water and gave my remaining two rolls away to a young woman and her child. I then walked round the town a little, which by this point was filling up with people. They all appeared to be going the same way so, curious, I followed them. We ended up at the Quaker’s meeting house near the market. I must confess after sitting down inside, it wasn’t long before I fell asleep – I only awakened when the meeting finished and someone kindly woke me. After that I wandered down by the river, then on the recommendation of a passer-by whom I accosted, I went to stay at the Crooked Billet for some dinner and a bed for the night. And that was my first day in Philadelphia. Not very interesting I’m afraid.”

“I wouldn’t say uninteresting at all; you have certainly come a long way from the dirty, scruffy boy with a bread roll stuffed under each arm. I’d love to hear more about your early days in Philadelphia but I only have so much column space, even for such an illustrious personage as yourself, so we must move on if that is acceptable to you.”

He just inclined his head slightly in agreement. From what I’ve read about him, he has always been a man of few unnecessary words, only speaking when he had something worthwhile to say.

“You were brought up as a Presbyterian I believe, but would you consider yourself a religious man?”

Franklin chuckled. “I can think of some Puritan preachers I’ve known over my life that would have strong words to say in reply to you. I wouldn’t consider myself a religious man, and never have. I do believe in the Deity, one supreme God, but I see God as aloof, rarely getting involved in human affairs. I consider there to be some truth in all religions but dislike the ritual and dogma that is prevalent in them. To me, the most acceptable service to God is doing good to man. To that end, I constantly strive to lead a moral, virtuous and industrious life and to do good to my fellow man and therefore to God also.”

“You talk about leading a virtuous life – what advice would you give to young people today?”

Once again, Franklin smiled. “If its advice and wisdom you are after, I could refer you to my good friend Richard Saunders who had a lot of wit and wisdom in his words.”

At this point, dear reader, I should explain who Richard Saunders is. In 1732, Franklin started to print a yearly publication, “Poor Richard’s Almanac”. He created the character of Richard Saunders who was portrayed as the writer of the almanac. It was a humorous and informative publication which proved very popular in America, lasting for 25 years. Today it is most well known for the proverbs, and witty and informative sayings that peppered its pages. So in mentioning Richard Saunders, Franklin was not talking about a real friend, but one of his own creations. Anyway back to the interview.

“Because of my rejection of organised religion, it occurred to me early in my adult life that while I believed in trying to better myself and doing good towards my fellow man, I had little to guide me but my own confused instincts. It was at this time that I started to devise my own moral code, with rules to try and live me life by. I came up with a list of twelve virtues that I thought desirable in a good man, with a short description of what I meant by each of them. The virtues I had listed were: temperance, silence, order, resolution, frugality, industry, sincerity, justice , moderation, cleanliness, tranquillity and chastity. Not long after coming up with this list of virtues I added, at the behest of a Quaker friend, a thirteenth virtue that I needed to work on: humility. It was pointed out to me that I was often proud, which at times could make me overbearing and rather insolent. I found that trying to live up to all of these virtues at once was a near impossible task so I resolved to work on each one at a time, and only when I had mastered one virtue would I move on to the next. I must confess that of them all, the one I have struggled with the most over the course of my life is humility. Of course, if I ever do master humility, I would probably be proud of my achievement.” He gave a wry smile at his last comment.

“Well they do all seem very noble, worthy goals,” I said. “Most of the virtues you listed explain themselves, but I did wonder what you mean by silence. Surely silence doesn’t get you anywhere?”

“Of course, I didn’t mean being totally silent, merely that one should avoid trifling conversation, and only speak when the speaking will benefit others or yourself.” He paused a moment before continuing. “These virtues I have listed were devised for my own betterment. If others find them of use I am glad for it, but I don’t mean to suppose it a moral code that everyone should live by.”

As someone who quite likes the sound of my own voice – it comes with the job – I decided that wasn’t a goal for me. I didn’t say that however.

“Moving on from speaking to reading now – you were instrumental in the creation of the first public library. Do you mind telling me a bit about how this came about?”

“It came about because of a discussion we had in one of the meetings of the Junto. We…”

“Sorry, I don’t want to interrupt, but some of my readers won’t be familiar with the Junto. Do you mind telling me a bit about that first, and then talking about the library afterwards.”

If Franklin was annoyed at being interrupted, he didn’t show it, I think instead he secretly delighted about being asked to talk about yet another of his creations.

“The Junto, yes, well it was in 1727, not long after I had come back from England that I came up with the idea of forming a club, not for gentlemen and aristocrats but for enterprising tradesmen to discuss politics, philosophy and other such pursuits. Each member was to come up with any points they wished to discuss with the group, and once every three months they had to write an essay on whatever subject they pleased, and read it to the rest of the group for us to discuss. The club was a useful diversion, and in time we came up with a number of useful community organisations, one of which was the library. Reading was an interest which we all shared, and while we regularly would lend each other books, I suggested that it might be a good idea to pool our books together. However in order to add new books to the collection and look after them, money was needed. It was decided that we should recruit subscribers who would pay for the upkeep of the library, and between us we managed to procure fifty such subscribers, each paying an initial sum of forty shillings, then 10 shillings a year thereafter.”

“I understand it was the first library of its type in all of the colonies?”

“So I have since been informed. I didn’t think about it in those terms at the time, it was just a useful scheme to allow people easier access to books. At a time when most books had to be imported from England, it made a lot of sense. It was also delightful to suddenly have so many books to read and to expand one’s knowledge.”

I longed to ask him about some of the other organisations he’d been instrumental in forming, from the first fire fighting company, the American Philosophical Club and the Pennsylvania militia. Unfortunately I had limited time and limited column space, so I had to move on.

“You retired from your printing business aged 42 to take up other interests. One of these was science, and you have some considerable success in this field. What invention or discovery are you most proud of?”

“I hope that is not a trick question sir,” Franklin said with another wry smile. “As I mentioned a few minutes ago, humility is something I constantly try to master, with limited success I might add. I cannot think of any one invention that I am proud of more than any other. I am pleased with any invention that people have benefited from. I suppose the one that sticks out is my investigations into electricity and the creation of the lightning rod. It got me noticed in the scientific community, and I became something of a minor celebrity over it. It may end up saving a lot of people’s lives, and there can’t be much better than that.”

“Lets move on from science to your work as a public servant. When did you first get officially involved in Pennsylvanian politics?”

“I had been a clerk of the Pennsylvania Assembly since 1736. It was difficult for someone such as myself, being so near but yet so far from the political arena. It was in 1751 when one of the assemblymen died that I was offered a set in the assembly, and I gladly accepted. I saw in my appointment a chance to do more good for my fellow man, but I was personally very pleased too.”

“What was your biggest challenge in those early years in politics?”

“There were many challenges, protecting Philadelphia from the French and building good relationships with the Indians, but probably the biggest challenge was in the Assembly’s dealings with the proprietors.”

“Before we go on can you explain, for the benefit of some of my readers who might not know who the proprietors are.”

“Of course. I’m referring to the Penn family. William Penn was granted a land charter by King Charles II in 1681 I think it was. This gave the Penn family the rights to run the colony of Pennsylvania how they wished. The Assembly was formed to represent the people, but the Penn’s still held much of the power. The biggest source of conflict was taxation – the Penn family strongly resisted attempts for their land to be taxed. I spent a lot of my time on this issue, first at home and then later in London trying to get the British government to take away the Penn’s royal charter and give the Assembly control over Pennsylvania’s affairs.”

“You spent many years in Britain, and were a fervent royalist. What made you become a rebel?”

“The British government were imposing a heavy tax burden on the colonies, but without giving us representation in parliament. One of the most notorious of these taxes was the stamp act, which I campaigned against for a long time when I was in London. Back at home in the colonies, there was growing unrest over taxes mainly, along with an increasing number of people calling not just for representation in parliament but for complete independence from Britain. At the time, I was not in favour of this, believing that America’s interests would be best served as a strong, successful part of the British Empire. I tried on a number of occasions to broker a deal that would be acceptable to all parties, giving the colonies more freedom, and Britain could still levy some taxes on us. Unfortunately parliament was not at all receptive to my proposals, and rejected them without any serious discussion. Britain’s unreasonableness started me thinking what was unthinkable not long before – that America would be better served by becoming independent. It was a revelation that did not come easily to me at the time, but in hindsight it has worked well.”

“An understatement if ever I heard one. What part did you play in the Declaration of Independence? You were back in Philadelphia by 1776 weren’t you?”

“Yes, I came back in the Spring of 1775. At first, many of the pro-independence colonists were wary of my motives, thinking I had returned from London to act as a spy for Britain. Nothing could have been further from the truth and I came out publicly in favour of independence shortly after my return. I drafted a set of ‘Articles of Confederation and Perpetual Union’ which I put before the Continental Congress. It was based on my plans for a colonial confederation that I’d come up with in Albany in 1754, which had been rejected at the time. The fundamental difference from the Albany Plan though was that this time, rather than being a confederacy of united colonies under British rule, it was a united and independent confederation.”

“And that was the start of the move towards independence?”

“By this point I think we were moving towards some form of independence already, but without a coherent strategy for how it was to be achieved or what was to happen afterwards. In that respect my Articles of Confederation were a starting point, which culminated in the Declaration of Independence.”

“And you were a signatory of that historic document?”

“I was, yes, though at the time we didn’t realise quite how significant it would become. As the continental congress was debating independence, a committee was appointed to draft a declaration explaining the reasons behind independence. The committee consisted of myself, Jefferson, John Adams and a couple of other gentlemen, Roger Sherman and Robert Livingston. Jefferson actually wrote the declaration, and I made a few alterations. Quite a few actually,” he said with a smile. “Anyway, it was eventually signed, by John Hancock on 4th July, and the rest of us signed it at the beginning of August.”

I wanted to go on, there was so much more to ask about after all, but our time was up for the day, and I could tell Franklin was tiring. He promised that he would meet me on the following day to finish the interview. I was looking forward to it already.