Benjamin Franklin-The Autobiography
Benjamin Franklin-The Autobiography
Benjamin Franklin-The Autobiography
Analysis
From the first line, Franklin's Autobiography illustrates the complex character of the man who
wrote it, not only through the facts it states but also through the attitudes it reveals. The
productive tension in Franklin's nature between the lighthearted and the earnest is evident by the
end of the first paragraph. While Franklin starts his account as a paternal (and presumably
chatty) letter to his son, he soon begins the formal statement about his worthy purposes — the
rationalizations for the work to follow — which one expects of highly serious eighteenth-century
treatises. But after presenting three respectable reasons for writing, Franklin appends two
frivolous ones, and by doing so gently mocks the literary conventions he follows. Thus from the
beginning we glimpse a man who accepts reasonable and recognized rules, but keeps a playful
spirit alive while doing so.
Analysis
In this section and throughout the Autobiography, Franklin takes an understandable pride in his
own accomplishments, and an unapologetic stance about his faults. He gives God conventional
perfunctory thanks for leading him to his successes, but never professes that he was unworthy of
the blessings Providence gave him. If God led him to the means he used for achieving success,
Franklin makes clear, those means were still fashioned by his own ingenuity. The point suggests
a fact about Franklin which one must remember in order to understand the man's astonishing
range of achievements: above all, Franklin accepted himself gladly, believing himself capable of
grasping any good thing, if he worked hard enough for it. And this acceptance of himself
included not only his talents but also his flaws. His mistakes he calls, significantly, his "errata," a
printer's term for typographical errors. The choice of words indicates that Franklin did not think
in terms of sins, or moral lapses, or personal inadequacies. Rather, he found some past actions,
when considered objectively and impersonally, to be unfortunate deviations from the popular
standard. As the Autobiography goes on to point out, Franklin felt that many of his errata were
later cancelled by other actions that fairly compensated for them. Though he seemed to regret not
being perfect from the beginning (and later formulated a scheme for arriving at perfection in 13
weeks), he apparently wasted little energy agonizing over irremediable mistakes.
Analysis
Franklin states why he gives the details about his difficult journey to Philadelphia and his
disreputable-looking appearance when entering the city: "I have been the more particular in this
Description of my journey, and shall be so of my first Entry into that City, that you may in your
mind compare such unlikely Beginnings with the Figure I have since made there." One factor in
the earlier figure as well as that later figure Franklin cut, to which he fails to give just due, is his
unusual personal presence which apparently could favorably impress others almost immediately.
Though Sir William Keith, the most dramatic example in this section, began to champion
Franklin after encountering him only through a letter, the passage abounds with references to
people, both humble and proud, who seemed to love Franklin on first sight. William Bradford of
New York, a complete stranger, was enough impressed with young Benjamin to undertake the
arduous trip to Philadelphia at least partially on Franklin's behalf. Bradford's son Andrew
immediately offered the unknown arrival a home until he should get a job. Franklin mentions at
length an innkeeper he encountered on his walk to Burlington, Dr. Brown, who so enjoyed
Franklin's conversation that he remained Franklin's lifelong friend. At Burlington, where he did
not even stop the night, Franklin struck up a warm friendship with an old woman who offered
him food and lodging for three days until he could catch a boat to Philadelphia. And Keimer,
whom Franklin says repeatedly was a suspicious and jealous man, hired Benjamin by the end of
their initial interview. Though Franklin gives this magnetic charm little credit for his steady rise,
it partially explains why others always seemed eager to help him.
This section shows Franklin at his most light-hearted, and contains some of the most admired
passages in the Autobiography. Portraying the life of a young Philadelphian, it is a good record
of the ways in which young people of the day amused themselves, as well as of the shrewdly
good-humored young Benjamin. Among other things, it suggests that the love of literature
among the colonists was great enough to make James Ralph determine to live by his poetry — at
least "till Pope cured him" by ridiculing him in the Dunciad. The character sketches of Franklin's
churlish brother James and of Keimer have been highly praised for their compact vividness.
Keimer's gluttonous consumption of an entire roast pig, for example, has been cited not only for
its inherent humor but also because Keimer appears so thoroughly individualized a character.
Analysis
The pamphlet Franklin wrote answering William Wollaston's The Religion of Nature Delineated
argued against the existence of free will, explaining human behavior as the result of a desire to
experience pleasure and avoid pain. It also argued against the idea of an afterlife. Wollaston's
work, on the other hand, asserted that nature itself provided the logical support for most
traditional and orthodox beliefs. Franklin dedicated the hundred copies of his tract, entitled A
Dissertation on Liberty and Necessity, Pleasure and Pain, to James Ralph, but burned most of
them after distributing a few copies. He decided that writing and printing the pamphlet was an
erratum because of its possible bad effect on others.
Analysis
This section, as others, suggests the great amount of time Franklin spent thinking through his
religious beliefs. Even when mentioning how his convictions differed from those of colonial
Christians, Franklin suggests the importance such convictions had for him. Interestingly, his
beliefs center on the proper conduct for daily life; the matters which he felt most important of all
were "Truth, Sincerity, and Integrity in Dealings between Man and Man." Franklin later refined
his religious convictions, but they remained mainly a set of ethics to govern man's earthly
behavior. He never seemed much concerned about a possible afterlife. But his tolerance for other
religious systems grew; his convictions grew that the best systems were the most useful systems,
and that any religion that fostered moral conduct should be respected.
Franklin's matter-of-fact discussion of his marriage often appears callous to students who do not
realize two things. First, it was common in his day for a bride to bring her husband desirable
amounts of money or property, and for marriages to be as much business as romantic
arrangements. One could hardly expect a man so remarkably shrewd in other matters as Franklin
was to be less so in choosing a wife. The second, however, is that his technical relationship to
Miss Read was a touchy matter. Deborah Read had good reasons for suspecting that her first
husband had already been married in England, but had no way of proving the fact legally and
thus no way of obtaining a divorce under Pennsylvania law. She also believed that Rogers had
since died but again, could not prove the fact conclusively. Had she and Franklin observed a
legal wedding ceremony and then been confronted by a living Rogers, they could both have been
convicted of bigamy, whipped with 39 lashes on the bare back, and imprisoned at hard labor for
life. The risks of a formal marriage being so great, Deborah Read became Franklin's common-
law wife, though their friends always considered the children legitimate.
Analysis
Most commentators have felt that the style of the Autobiography changes for the worse at this
point, partially because its writer was 14 years older and partially because of Franklin's changed
purpose. For now, instead of amusing his son and himself with an account of youthful trials and
foibles, he was writing to instruct the public. His tone is therefore perceptibly more moralistic
than it had been earlier.
In both parts, however, Franklin stresses the value of industry, because he believed that hard
work always led to wealth. He realistically saw that scientific experiments and public service
required leisure, that leisure required financial security, and that financial security should be
acquired as fast as possible, if one were to engage in either scientific or political pursuits. Since
Franklin had the wisdom to recognize when his fortune was large enough for his own purposes,
he was able to quit working actively when he was only 42 years old. He thereafter fashioned a
career of such remarkable distinction that most contemporaries must have felt his ideas about
industry were self-evident truths. Franklin was always willing to achieve the public goals he
aimed for at the expense of his personal aggrandizement, so he should be excused any apparent
vanity at recommending his methods to others. He had the rare capacity to starve his vanity for
the moment, being confident that it would enjoy a future feast. In this ability, as in others, he
proved how exceptional he was.
Analysis
Franklin's plan to attain perfection astonishes the modern reader for many reasons, among them
the assumptions on which such a plan was based. For our author assumed not only that man is
perfectible but also that the perfecting can be completed fairly quickly. Franklin assumed that
man is reasonable, that through his reason he can control himself, and that he can resolve, at a
given moment, to unlearn "bad habits" of thought and action and substitute good ones. He also
assumed that what one should do in any given situation, the kind of action "good habits" would
dictate, would be easy to identify.
Franklin's view of man lacks the complexity one acknowledges in a post-Freudian world. But if
he appears at points in-tolerably optimistic about human nature, he also acknowledges his failure
to attain perfection with a modern, ironic sense of humor that still makes him likable. Having
seen that perfection would never be his, he decided that such a condition "might be a Kind of
Foppery in Morals, which if it were known would make me ridiculous; that a perfect Character
might be attended with the Inconvenience of being envied and hated; and that a benevolent Man
should allow a few Faults in himself, to keep his Friends in Countenance."
Franklin always assumed that virtue was worth pursuing because of its practical benefits, not
because of some abstract worth. Order, resolution, and industry, for example, he felt would lead
to affluence and independence. And once these last two qualities were achieved, sincerity and
justice would be easier to afford. His approach to specific virtues was therefore a practical one.
In learning silence, he allowed himself to speak what would benefit him, and in learning
frugality, to incur expense that would do him good. It is not surprising, when the spirit behind
this list is understood, that the original group of twelve virtues includes both temperance and
moderation. For Franklin obviously believed that even one's virtues should be cultivated within
moderate bounds, in order to foster happiness, and never as ends in themselves.
His questionable worldview put aside, Franklin's list impresses on a purely literary level. His
explanatory maxims are models of well-turned phrases: pointed, concise, clear, and memorable
as balanced aphorisms. If the list suggests why Franklin is no longer consulted as a philosopher,
it also illustrates why he is still admired as a prose stylist.
Analysis
Franklin's project to form a party of the world's virtuous men follows logically from his program
to perfect himself. Once he assumed that he could become thoroughly virtuous by an exercise of
will, he naturally thought of what could be accomplished by uniting those like himself. And he
saw no reason to limit such good by national boundaries. With his boundless confidence in
himself, he could place boundless confidence in men generally. Franklin always assumed that
what was best for the individual would in the long run be best for the mass. And reflecting the
needs of his society, he further assumed that what was good for business was good for the
country and finally, for the world. He therefore saw no reason why nations couldn't cooperate to
promote their mutual self-interest, as long as their good-hearted citizens were so organized that
they could be shown where that interest lay.
Analysis
Franklin felt it unnecessary to identify the Reverend George Whitefield of England except by his
last name, for he assumed the famous evangelist would be familiar to all. Whitefield's reputation
rested on his open-air preaching throughout England and the American colonies. Along with
Jonathan Edwards in New England, he began the Great Awakening, the wave of evangelical
religious fervor that swept the colonies. As the bemused Franklin records, his eloquence and
influence were great, even among those (such as Franklin) who were skeptical of his message
and his methods. Whitefield assured the crowds that they were "half Beasts and half Devils," yet
still they flocked to hear him. Indeed, "it seem'd as if all the World were growing religious." It is
an indication of Franklin's genuinely tolerant religious spirit that though he never subscribed to
any of the doctrines Whitefield was promulgating, he still remained the man's close personal
friend. In fact, the hall Franklin helped erect for the use of Whitefield and any other itinerant
preacher who wished to address a crowd, bespeaks a religious tolerance as rare in colonial days
as it has proved to be in later times.
Analysis
Franklin's views about his stove suggest another aspect of his easily misunderstood attitudes
toward money, for his stove was one of the most potentially lucrative inventions of its time. It
reduced by three-fourths the amount of fuel required and doubled the amount of heat another
stove of its size could produce. To form a picture of Franklin without considering the man's
enormous public spirit — the kind of spirit that gave such an improvement to the world free, as a
way of thanking other inventors — is to fail to know him at all.
And Franklin obviously applied the same inventiveness of spirit to his trusteeships as to his
gadgets. His negotiations between the Academy and the Whitefield Hall groups (in both of
which he was a trustee) suggest inspired maneuvering. And his solutions fulfilled the best
interests of both institutions. He got the Academy adequate facilities at minimum cost, and also
liquidated the public hall's debts, guaranteed the continued existence (cost-free) of a facility in
which any preacher could address an audience, and secured a free school for poor children in the
bargain (which neither institution, if left alone, would apparently have provided).
Analysis
Though many feel the Autobiography grows dull in parts written by the older Franklin, this
section reveals the continuing undercurrent of humor that even the 78-year-old Franklin
conveyed. His descriptions of the Indian apology are as amusing as his reference to their fate is
sobering. One also notices the twinkle of irony behind Franklin's descriptions of horrors to be
met in a barber's chair. His ironically obvious advice to Reverend Tennent suggests how the
apostle of common sense leavened his apothegms with a smile.
Analysis
Interestingly, Franklin had designed a plan for unifying all the colonies under a central
government as early as 1751. When commissioners were appointed to secure an alliance with the
Iroquois Confederation of Six Nations, many saw the meeting as an opportunity to work out a
broad colonial union. But unfortunately, the danger to the Crown's privileges implicit in such an
organization was as clear as was the danger to the powers to lay taxes claimed by the individual
Assemblies. Thus, in curtailing some of their powers, Franklin's plan frightened all parties.
Analysis
Franklin's hindsight after the Revolution — which he fervently supported — probably made him
unfairly severe in describing the British resistance to colonial self-protection. Under any
circumstances, the Colonies would have had to rely on extensive English help to withstand
French and Indian attacks. And the comparison of English marauders to well-disciplined French
troops also suggests the attitudes of the elderly Franklin rather than those he would have held in
1755. After all, Franklin had recently been the object of near idolatry during his last eight-year
stay in France. Understandably, he felt warmer toward the French when he wrote in 1787 than he
probably had 32 years earlier.
Analysis
In 1746 the Leyden jar, first known condenser of electricity, had been developed, and soon
afterwards a London scientist had concluded that all bodies contained electricity. Little more was
known when Franklin began his systematic experiments around 1749. He first devised with a
Junto silversmith an improved method of obtaining electricity through the glass tube or Leyden
jar, and contributed much to knowledge about this device. He even devised the first electric
battery. But he made more fundamental contributions by viewing electricity as a single fluid and
by coining the terms "positive" and "negative" to describe its properties. And while others before
Franklin had suspected that lightning was electricity, it was Franklin who designed the
experiments that proved it. Ironically, the proof was actually performed successfully in France a
month before Franklin performed a similar test in America. This historical accident occurred
because Franklin felt a spire taller than any in Philadelphia, and to which a pointed iron rod
could be attached, was necessary to draw the lightning from the clouds. But before he heard of
the French successes, he had thought of using a kite. And soon thereafter Franklin suggested the
first practical use to which the knowledge about electricity could be put: the lightning rod, which
protected buildings and ships from being struck and burned.
Analysis
But none of these things explains why Franklin repeated in writing the malicious and unproved
rumor that Loudoun was profiting personally from the disruption of colonial trade. Perhaps the
only explanation lies in Franklin's exceptional disappointment with Loudoun, after his initial and
excellent first impression. Following their first meeting, he wrote "[I am] extremely pleas'd with
him. I think there cannot be a fitter person for the Service he is engaged in."
Analysis
Another interpretation
Undoubtedly, the Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin is riddled with faults. It is very muddled,
particularly towards the end. It was not written in a continuous stretch, but rather pasted together
out of separate fragments that were written years apart from one another; often, the author could
not remember what he had even written in the previous sections. The work often takes an
arrogant, condescending tone, yet it praises the virtue of humility. And perhaps most egregious
of all, the part of Ben's life with the most historical significance--the American Revolution--is
entirely omitted from the work. There is no real mention of events after 1760, 15 years before the
outbreak of war. At that year the Autobiography simply stops.
A natural questions to ask, then, is, "Why are we still reading this tangled, sometimes difficult
and frequently esoteric work over 200 years after it was written?" There are several reasons, one
of which is because it establishes in literary form the first example of the fulfillment of the
American Dream. Franklin demonstrates the possibilities of life in the New World through his
own rise from the lower middle class as a youth to one of the most admired men in the world as
an adult. Furthermore, he asserts that he achieved his success through a solid work ethic. He
proved that even undistinguished persons in Boston can, through industry, become great figures
of importance in America. When we think of the American Dream today--the ability to rise from
rags to riches through hard work--we are usually thinking of the model set forth by Franklin in
this autobiography.
A second reason why the Autobiography remains a classic is for historical reasons. The work
was one of the premier autobiographies in the English language. While they abound today in
Barnes and Nobles all over the world, the autobiography as a literary form had not emerged at
the time Franklin lived, at least not in non-religious format. His autobiography defined a secular
literary tradition; he established the autobiography as a work that is meant to not only tell about a
person's own life but also to educate the reader in ways to better live life. This format has been
modified throughout American history, but it is safe to say that such classics as Frederick
Douglass' Narrative and Henry Adams' The Education of Henry Adams owe much of their style
and format to the tradition established by Franklin. Part Two of the Autobiography, complete
with its list of virtues and ways in which one can achieve them, has influenced millions of
readers over the last two centuries. It also helped spawn the genre of the mainstream self-help
book.
Also, the Autobiography tells us today what life was like in 18th century America. Naturally, the
story is told from the perspective of only one person, but in an age when literacy was low and
writing not widespread, any surviving documents are of value to historians who wish to learn
how people lived from day to day. Specifics of life in colonial America abound in the book, and
this is invaluable information to anyone wishing to learn more about that time period. Of course,
one must always keep in mind that life for Franklin was not like life for everyone else; he
represents only one person out of many thousands.
Franklin's Autobiography is also a reflection of 18th century idealism. Often called the Age of
Reason, the 18th century was the age of men such as John Locke and Isaac Newton.
Intellectualism flourished along with scientific inventions and advances in political thought.
Many people held to the optimistic belief that man could be perfected through scientific and
political progress. Franklin ascribes to these beliefs partially, and Part Two of the Autobiography
shows him trying to live them out.
Perhaps the Autobiography has most endured because, despite its muddled nature, it is the
preeminent work that mythologizes a hero of the American Revolution. Franklin is often
introduced to elementary school children as a Renaissance man, someone who seemed to master
all fields of knowledge--he was, among other things, scientist, inventor, statesman and writer.
The Autobiography is the only enduring token that enshrines all the facets of his diverse nature;
it presents Americans today with a great hero from the past who helped establish the tradition of
the American Dream. Numerous critics have often called Franklin the "first American"; his
autobiography provides a good example of why.