Greetings,
My grandfather, George Dorsch, was the printer for the Enoch Pratt Free Library in Baltimore. In my childhood I considered him a great man (and do so even more now), and he was probably why I had an early interest in printing and got my own little printing press and “published” my own little newspaper for my classmates. Other than having his two presses powered by electricity, his print shop was virtually the same as a print shop in the 18th century. All of which is perhaps why one of my early great heroes was Ben Franklin.
Benjamin Franklin (born Jan. 17 [Jan. 6, Old Style], 1706, Boston, Massachusetts —died April 17, 1790, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania) was an outstanding American printer and publisher, author, inventor and scientist, and diplomat. One of the foremost of the Founding Fathers, Franklin helped draft the Declaration of Independence and was one of its signers, represented the United States in France during the American Revolution, and was a delegate to the Constitutional Convention. He made important contributions to science, especially in the understanding of electricity, and is remembered for the wit, wisdom, and elegance of his writing.
Perhaps most important, in the beginning part of his Autobiography, Franklin in effect was telling the world (and his son) that, as a free man who had established himself against overwhelming odds as an independent and industrious artisan, he did not have to kowtow to some patronizing, privileged aristocrat.
After success at his printing business, his publishing business, and his many scientific inventions and discoveries, Franklin “retired” in1749, and gave himself over to public service. From 1753 to 1775 he spent most of his time in England in various capacities as an agent for the Pennsylvania colony, the holder of a royal appointment as Post Master for much of the colonies, and a negotiator who tried to reconcile the ever increasingly independence minded colonists and the royal government.
When Franklin returned to the colonies in March of 1775, some Americans remained suspicious of his real loyalties. He had been so long abroad that some thought he might be a British spy. He was delighted that the Congress in 1776 sent him back to Europe as the premier agent in a commission seeking military aid and diplomatic recognition from France. He played on the French aristocracy's liberal sympathies for the oppressed Americans and extracted not only diplomatic recognition of the new republic but also loan after loan from an increasingly impoverished French government. His image as the democratic folk genius from the wilderness of America preceded him, and he exploited it brilliantly for the American cause. His face appeared everywhere—on medallions, on snuffboxes, on candy boxes, in rings, in statues, in prints; women even did their hair à la Franklin. Franklin played his role to perfection. In violation of all protocol, he dressed in a simple brown-and-white linen suit and wore a fur cap, no wig, and no sword to the court of Versailles, the most formal and elaborate court in all of Europe. And the French aristocracy and court loved it, caught up as they were with the idea of America.
Franklin was not only the most famous American in the 18th century but also one of the most famous figures in the Western world of the 18th century; indeed, he is one of the most celebrated and influential Americans who has ever lived. Although one is apt to think of Franklin exclusively as an inventor, as an early version of Thomas Edison, which he was, his 18th-century fame came not simply from his many inventions but, more important, from his fundamental contributions to the science of electricity. If there had been a Nobel Prize for Physics in the 18th century, Franklin would have been a leading contender. Enhancing his fame was the fact that he was an American, a simple man from an obscure background who emerged from the wilds of America to dazzle the entire intellectual world. Most Europeans in the 18th century thought of America as a primitive, undeveloped place full of forests and savages and scarcely capable of producing enlightened thinkers. Yet Franklin's electrical discoveries in the mid-18th century had surpassed the achievements of the most sophisticated scientists of Europe. Franklin became a living example of the natural untutored genius of the New World that was free from the encumbrances of a decadent and tired Old World—an image that he later parlayed into French support for the American Revolution.
Despite his great scientific achievements, however, Franklin always believed that public service was more important than science, and his political contributions to the formation of the United States were substantial. He had a hand in the writing of the Declaration of Independence, contributed to the drafting of the Articles of Confederation—America's first national constitution—and was the oldest member of the Constitutional Convention of 1787 that wrote the Constitution of the United States of America in Philadelphia. More important, as diplomatic representative of the new American republic in France during the Revolution, he secured both diplomatic recognition and financial and military aid from the government of Louis XVI and was a crucial member of the commission that negotiated the treaty by which Great Britain recognized its former 13 colonies as a sovereign nation. Since no one else could have accomplished all that he did in France during the Revolution, he can quite plausibly be regarded as America's greatest diplomat.
Equally significant perhaps were Franklin's many contributions to the comfort and safety of daily life, especially in his adopted city of Philadelphia. No civic project was too large or too small for his interest. In addition to his lightning rod and his Franklin stove (a wood-burning stove that warmed American homes for more than 200 years), he invented bifocal glasses, the odometer, and the glass harmonica (armonica). He had ideas about everything—from the nature of the Gulf Stream to the cause of the common cold. He suggested the notions of matching grants and Daylight Saving Time. Almost single-handedly he helped to create a civic society for the inhabitants of Philadelphia. Moreover, he helped to establish new institutions that people now take for granted: a fire company, a library, an insurance company, an academy, and a hospital.
Following are a few of the literally hundreds of well-known quotes from Franklin. These are not perhaps the best know, but are a few of my favorites.
The next thing most like living one’s life over again seems to be a recollection of that life, and to make the recollection as durable as possible by putting it down in writing.
(Autobiography [1731-1759])
Dost thou love life? Then do not squander time; for that’s the stuff life is made of.
(Poor Richard’s Almanac [1746])
The body of Benjamin Franklin, Printer (like the cover of an old book, its contents torn out and stripped of its lettering and gilding), lies here, food for worms; but the work shall not be lost, for it will (as he believed) appear once more in a new and more elegant edition, revised and corrected by the Author.
(Epitaph on Himself [1728])
When the well’s dry, we know the worth of water.
(Poor Richard’s Almanac [1746])
If you would not be forgotten,
as soon as you are dead and rotten,
Either write things worthy reading,
Or do things worth the writing.
(Poor Richard’s Almanac [1738])
Our new Constitution is now established, and has an appearance that promises permanency; but in this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes.
(Letter to Jean-Baptiste Leroy [November 13, 1789])
Franklin, as any human, had his flaws, but he remains on anybody’s list of the two greatest Americans of the 18th century, and certainly one of the few truly great Americans of all time.
Yours & His,
DED
