From the solitude of the ocean to the seething turmoil which Franklin found in the colonies must have been a startling transition. He had come home an old man, lacking but little of the allotted threescore years and ten. He had earned and desired repose, but never before had he encountered such exacting, important, and unremitting labor as immediately fell to his lot. Lexington and Concord fights had taken place a fortnight before he landed, and the news preceded him in Philadelphia by a few days only. Many feelings may be discerned in the brief note which he wrote on May 16 to Dr. Priestley:—

To another correspondent he said that "the feeble Americans, who pelted them all the way, could scarcely keep up with" the rapidly retreating redcoats. But the occurrence of bloodshed had an immense meaning for Franklin; it opened to his vision all the future: an irreconcilable struggle, and finally independence, with a bitter animosity long surviving. He could not address all those who had once been near and dear to him in England as he did the good Dr. Priestley. The letter to Strahan of July 5, 1775, is famous:—

But strained as his relations with Strahan were for a while, it is agreeable to know that the estrangement between such old and close friends was not everlasting.

To write at length concerning Franklin's services during his brief stay at home would involve giving a history of the whole affairs of the colonies at this time. But space presses, and this ground is familiar and has been traversed in other volumes in this series. It seems sufficient, therefore, rather to enumerate than to narrate his various engagements, and thus to reserve more room for less well-known matters.

On the very day after his return, when he had scarce caught the breath of land, he was unanimously elected by the Assembly a delegate to the Provincial Congress. It was an emergency when the utmost must be made of time, brains, and men. By subsequent reËlections he continued to sit in that body until his departure for France. There was business enough before it: the organization of a government, of the army, of the finances; most difficult of all, the arrangement of a national policy, and the harmonizing of conflicting opinions among men of influence at home. In all that came before the Congress Franklin was obliged to take his full share. He seems to have been upon all the busy and important committees. There were more ardent spirits, greater propelling forces, than he was; but his wisdom was transcendent. Dickinson and his followers were bent upon sending one more petition to the king, a scheme which was ridiculed almost with anger by the more advanced and resolute party. But Franklin's counsel was to give way to their wishes, as being the best policy for bringing them later into full accord with the party which was for war. He had no hopes of any other good result from the proceeding; but it also chimed with his desire to put the English as much as possible in the wrong. In the like direction was a clause in his draft of a declaration, intended to be issued by Washington in the summer of 1775. To counteract the charge that the colonies refused to contribute to the cost of their own protection, he proposed that, if Great Britain would abolish her monopoly of the colonial trade, allowing free commerce between the colonies and all the rest of the world, they would pay into the English sinking fund £100,000 annually for one hundred years; which would be more than sufficient, if "faithfully and inviolably applied for that purpose, ... to extinguish all her present national debt."

At the close of this document he administered a telling fillip in his humorous style to that numerous class who seek to control practical affairs by sentiment, and who now would have had their prattle about the "mother country" outweigh the whole accumulation of her very unmaternal oppression and injustice. Concerning the allegation of an unfilial ingratitude, he said: "There is much more reason for retorting that charge on Britain, who not only never contributes any aid, nor affords, by an exclusive commerce, any advantages to Saxony, her mother country; but, no longer since than the last war, without the least provocation, subsidized the king of Prussia while he ravaged that mother country, and carried fire and sword into its capital.... An example we hope no provocation will induce us to imitate." Had this declaration ever been used, which it was not, the dignity of the grave general who commanded the American forces would have compelled him to cut off this closing snapper from the lash, amusing as it was. The witty notion had found a more appropriate place in the newspaper article which had dumfounded the guests at the English country house. Commenting upon this, Mr. Parton well says: "Here perhaps we have one of the reasons why Dr. Franklin, who was universally confessed to be the ablest pen in America, was not always asked to write the great documents of the Revolution. He would have put a joke into the Declaration of Independence, if it had fallen to him to write it.... His jokes, the circulating medium of Congress, were as helpful to the cause as Jay's conscience or Adams's fire; ... but they were out of place in formal, exact, and authoritative papers."[37]

A document which cost Dr. Franklin much more labor than this declaration was a plan for a union of the colonies, which he brought forward July 21, 1775. It was the "first sketch of a plan of confederation which is known to have been presented to Congress." No final action was ever taken upon it. It contained a provision that Ireland, the West India Islands, the Canadian possessions, and Florida might, upon application, be received into the confederation.

Franklin's duties in Congress were ample to consume his time and strength; but they were far from being all that he had to do. Almost immediately after his return he was made chairman of a committee for organizing the postal service of the country. In execution of this duty he established in substance that system which has ever since prevailed; and he was then at once appointed postmaster-general, with a salary of £1000 per annum. When franking letters he amused himself by changing the formula, "Free: B. Franklin" into "B. Free, Franklin."

He was next made chairman of the provincial committee of safety, a body which began its sittings at the comfortable, old-fashioned hour of six o'clock in the morning. Its duty was to call out and organize all the military resources of Pennsylvania, and generally to provide for the defenses of the province. It worked with much efficiency in its novel and difficult department. Among other things, Franklin devised and constructed some ingenious "marine chevaux de frise" for closing the river approaches to Philadelphia.

In October, 1775, he was elected a member of the Assembly of the Province. But this did not add to his labors; for the oath of allegiance had not yet been dispensed with; he would not take it, and resigned his seat.

In September, 1775, Franklin, Lynch of South Carolina, and Harrison of Virginia, as a committee of Congress, were dispatched to Cambridge, Massachusetts, to confer with Washington concerning military affairs. They rode from Philadelphia to the leaguer around Boston in thirteen days. Their business was achieved with no great difficulty; but they lingered a few days more in that interesting camp, and were absent six weeks. General Greene has recorded how he gazed upon Franklin, "that very great man, with silent admiration;" and Abigail Adams tells with what interest she met him whom "from infancy she had been taught to venerate," and how she read in his grave countenance "patriotism in its full lustre" and with it "blended every virtue of a Christian." The phrase was not well chosen to fall from the pen of Mrs. Adams, yet was literally true; Franklin had the virtues, though dissevered from the tenets which that worthy Puritan dame conceived essential to the make-up of a genuine Christian. The time came when her husband would not have let her speak thus in praise of Benjamin Franklin.

In the spring of 1776 Congress was inconsiderate enough to impose upon Franklin a journey to Montreal, there to confer with General Arnold concerning affairs in Canada. It was a severe, even a cruel task to put upon a man of his age; but with his usual tranquil courage he accepted the mission. He met the ice in the rivers, and suffered much from fatigue and exposure; indeed, the carelessness of Congress was near depriving the country of a life which could not have been spared. On April 15 he wrote from Saratoga: "I begin to apprehend that I have undertaken a fatigue that at my time of life may prove too much for me; so I sit down to write to a few friends by way of farewell;" and still the real wilderness with all its hardships lay before him. After he had traversed it he had the poor reward of finding himself on a bootless errand. The Canadian enterprise had no possible future save failure and retreat. There was absolutely nothing which he could do in Canada; he was being wasted there, and resolved to get away as soon as he could. Accordingly he made his painful way homeward; but worn out as he was, he was given scant opportunity to recuperate from this perilous and mistaken journey. The times called upon every patriot to spend all he had of vigor, intellect, money, life itself, for the common cause, and Franklin was no niggard in the stress.

In the spring of 1776 the convention charged to prepare a constitution for the independent State of Pennsylvania was elected. Franklin was a member, and when the convention came together he was chosen to preside over its deliberations. It sat from July 16 to September 28. The constitution which it presented to the people established a legislature of only one house, a feature which Franklin approved and defended. At the close of the deliberations thanks were unanimously voted to him for his services as presiding officer, and for his "able and disinterested advice."

Yet in spite of abundant acts, like this, of real independence taking place upon all sides, profession of it inspired alarm in a large proportion of the people. Congress even declared formally that independence was not aimed at. Sam Adams, disgusted, talked of forming a New England confederacy, and Franklin approved the scheme and said that in such an event he would cast in his lot with the New Englanders. But the stream ran on in spite of some snags in the current. It was not much later that Franklin found himself one of the committee of five elected by ballot to frame a declaration of independence. Had he been called upon to write the document he would certainly have given something more terse and simple than that rotund and magniloquent instrument which Jefferson bequeathed to the unbounded admiration of American posterity. As it was, Franklin's recorded connection with the preparation of that famous paper is confined to the amusing tale about John Thompson, Hatter, wherewith he mitigated the miseries of Jefferson during the debate; and to his familiar bonmot in reply to Harrison's appeal for unanimity: "Yes, we must indeed all hang together, or assuredly we shall all hang separately." With this rather grim jest upon his lip, he set his signature to one of the greatest documents in the world's history.

When it came to shaping the machinery of the confederation, the great difficulty, as is well known, lay in establishing a just proportion between the larger and the smaller States. Should they have equal weight in voting, or not? It was a question so vital and so hard to settle that the confederacy narrowly survived the strain. Franklin was decidedly in favor of making the voting value proportionate to the size, measured by population, of the several States. He said: Let the smaller colonies give equal money and men, and then let them have an equal vote. If they have an equal vote without bearing equal burdens, a confederation based on such iniquitous principles will not last long. To set out with an unequal representation is unreasonable. There is no danger that the larger States will absorb the smaller. The same apprehension was expressed when Scotland was united to England. It was then said that the whale had swallowed Jonah; but Lord Bute's administration came in, and then it was seen that Jonah had swallowed the whale. That Scotch favorite was the provocation for many witty sayings, but for none better than this.

In July, 1776, Lord Howe arrived, in command of the English fleet. He immediately sought to open a friendly correspondence with Franklin. He had played a prominent part in those efforts at conciliation which had come to naught just before Franklin's departure from England; and he now renewed his generous attempt to act as a mediator. There is no doubt that this nobleman, as kindly as brave, would far rather have reconciled the Americans than have fought them. By permission of Congress Franklin replied by a long letter, not deficient in courtesy of language, but full of argument upon the American side, and in a tone which there was no misconceiving. Its closing paragraph was:—

If the Englishman had been hot-tempered, this would probably have ended the correspondence; as it was, he only delayed for a while before writing civilly again. The battle of Long Island next occurred, and Lord Howe fancied that that disaster might bring the Americans to their senses. He paroled General Sullivan, and by him sent a message to Congress: That he and his brother had full powers to arrange an accommodation; that they could not at present treat with Congress as such, but would like to confer with some of its members as private gentlemen. After a long debate it was resolved to send a committee of Congress to meet the admiral and the general, and Franklin, John Adams, and Edward Rutledge were deputed. Lord Howe received them with much courtesy, and gave them a lunch before proceeding to business. But when luncheon was over and the substance of the errand was reached, it was very shortly disposed of. His lordship opened with a speech of elaborate civility, and concluded by saying that he felt for America as for a brother, and if America should fall he should feel and lament it like the loss of a brother. Franklin replied: "My lord, we will use our utmost endeavors to save your lordship that mortification." But Lord Howe did not relish this Yankee wit. He continued by a long, explanatory, conciliatory address. At its close there was necessarily brought up the question of the character in which the envoys came. His lordship thought that the idea of Congress might "easily be thrown out at present." Franklin adroitly settled it: "Your lordship may consider us in any view you think proper. We on our part are at liberty to consider ourselves in our real character. But there is really no necessity on this occasion to distinguish between members of Congress and individuals. The conversation may be held as among friends." Mr. Adams made one of those blunt and pugnacious remarks which, whenever addressed to Englishmen, are sure to endear the speaker to the American nation. Mr. Rutledge laid over it the courtesy of a gentleman; and then the conference came to the point.

Lord Howe expressed his majesty's earnest desire for a permanent peace and for the happiness of his American subjects, his willingness for a reform and for a redress of grievances. But he admitted that the Declaration of Independence was an awkward obstacle. He asked: "Is there no way of treating back of this step of independency?" Franklin replied at some length, closing with the words: "Forces have been sent out, and towns have been burnt. We cannot now expect happiness under the domination of Great Britain. All former attachments are obliterated. America cannot return to the domination of Great Britain, and I imagine that Great Britain means to rest it upon force." Adams said: "It is not in our power to treat otherwise than as independent States; and for my own part, I avow my determination never to depart from the idea of independency." Rutledge said: "With regard to the people consenting to come again under the English government, it is impossible. I can answer for South Carolina." Lord Howe replied: "If such are your sentiments, I can only regret that it is not in my power to bring about the accommodation I wish." Thus the fruitlessness of such efforts was made manifest; of all concerned, it is probable that the most amiable of Englishmen was the only one who was disappointed at the result. The Americans were by no means displeased at having another and conclusive proof to convince the doubting ones that reconciliation was an impossibility.

Franklin's language was expressive of the way in which his mind had worked. Until it came to the "cutting of throats," he had never altogether and avowedly given up hopes that, from the reservoir of unknown things in the future, something might in time come forth that would bring about a reasonable accommodation. But the first bloodshed effected a change in his feelings as irrevocable as that which Hawthorne so subtly represents as having been worked in the nature of Donatello by a violent taking of life. "Bunker's Hill" excited him; the sack of Falmouth affected him with terrible intensity. When the foolish petition of the Dickinson party was sent to England, he wrote to Dr. Priestley that the colonies had given Britain one more chance of recovering their friendship, "which, however, I think she has not sense enough to embrace; and so I conclude she has lost them forever. She has begun to burn our seaport towns, secure, I suppose, that we shall never be able to return the outrage in kind.... If she wishes to have us subjects ... she is now giving us such miserable specimens of her government that we shall ever detest and avoid it, as a combination of robbery, murder, famine, fire, and pestilence." His humor could not be altogether repressed, but there were sternness and bitterness underlying it: "Tell our dear, good friend, Dr. 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 one hundred and fifty Yankees, this campaign, which is twenty thousand pounds a head; and at Bunker's Hill she gained a mile of ground, half of which she lost again by our taking post at Ploughed Hill. During the same time 60,000 children have been born in America. From these data his mathematical head will easily calculate the time and expense necessary to kill us all, and conquer our whole territory." It was a comical way of expressing the real truth that Britain neither would nor could give enough either of men, or money, or time to accomplish the task she had undertaken. To another he wrote: "We hear that more ships and troops are coming out. We know that you may do us a great deal of mischief, and are determined to bear it patiently as long as we can. But if you flatter yourselves with beating us into submission, you know neither the people nor the country." Other men wrote ardent words and indulged in the rhetorical extravagance of intense excitement in those days; Franklin sometimes cloaked the intensity of his feeling in humor, at other times spoke with a grave and self-contained moderation which was within rather than without the facts and the truth. Everything which he said was true with precision to the letter. But his careful statement and measured profession indicate rather than belie the earnestness of his feeling, the strength of his conviction, and the fixedness of his resolution.

Thus briefly must be dismissed the extensive and important toil of eighteen months, probably the busiest of Franklin's long and busy life. In September, 1776, he was elected envoy to France, and scant space is left for narrating the events of that interesting embassage.