"A Republic, ... if you can keep it"

Benjamin Franklin's famous line that the United States government is a "republic, if you can keep it" is recorded only in the diary of James McHenry, a delegate to the Constitutional Convention from Maryland. The Library of Congress placed an image of this diary online.

James McHenry. Diary, September 18, 1787. Manuscript. James McHenry Papers, Manuscript Division, Library of Congress (63.02.00) [Digital ID# us0063_02p1]

The number 18 at the top of the entry shown above is a reference to 18 September 1787, the day after the Constitutional Convention adjourned and the process of ratification began.

Franklin's comment is presented by McHenry as a reply to Elizabeth Willing Powel. She was well-known in the city and hosted delegates to the First Continental Congress for dinner parties. She is credited with convincing George Washington to continue as President for a second term. Her husband was Mayor of Philadelphia, the first to serve in this position after the United States gained independence, as well as the last to serve as mayor of the city under British rule. The Powels were among the richest residents of Philadelphia.

Fort McHenry in Baltimore, Maryland is named for James McHenry. It was this fort that held against British bombardment 13-14 September 1814, successfully defending Baltimore Harbor, that inspired Francis Scott Key to write what became "The Star-Spangled Banner", the national anthem of the United States.

Whether Franklin in fact uttered the words credited to him by McHenry is uncertain, but the phrase has taken on a life of its own far beyond the context of the day. The question, as recorded, was merely, "What have we got a republic or a monarchy?"

During the Convention's final day, Franklin delivered his longest speech of the Constitutional Convention. Franklin stressed that he did not believe the Constitution perfect, but he also doubted his own judgement. He did not think the current Convention, nor a subsequent one would produce a better constitution.

He began:

I confess that I do not entirely approve of this Constitution at present, but Sir, I am not sure I shall never approve it: For having lived long, I have experienced many Instances of being oblig’d, by better Information or fuller Consideration, to change Opinions even on important Subjects, which I once thought right, but found to be otherwise. It is therefore that the older I grow the more apt I am to doubt my own Judgment and to pay more Respect to the Judgment of others.

And then states:

In these Sentiments, Sir, I agree to this Constitution, with all its Faults, if they are such: because I think a General Government necessary for us, and there is no Form of Government but what may be a Blessing to the People if well administred; and I believe farther that this is likely to be well administred for a Course of Years, and can only end in Despotism as other Forms have done before it, when the People shall become so corrupted as to need Despotic Government, being incapable of any other.

Read the whole speech at The National Constitution Center.

In our era of mis- and disinformation today, we may be due for despotic government.

Miracle at Philadelphia

A review of sorts

Catherine Drinker Bowen, Miracle at Philadelphia: The Story of the Constitutional Convention, May to September 1787 (1966) has been reprinted in multiple editions since its original publication. My copy, acquired more than 35 years ago, is the twentieth anniversary Book of the Month Club edition.

The book is a narrative history of the events of one momentous summer. Bowen makes clear at the outset that the Constitutional Convention would not be known by that name until many years later. The Grand Convention or Federal Convention, as it was known in 1787, was sanctioned "for the express purpose of revising the Articles of Convention" (4). Although some members clung to this purpose, there were several who expected to replace the Articles from the very beginning. Had it not been for members maintaining secrecy of the contents of their day-to-day discussions, there likely would have been considerable public dissension. Bowen focuses on the men and their debates that summer as they crafted a constitution that still serves as the founding document for the United States government.

Although Miracle at Philadelphia has resided on my bookshelves for nearly four decades, it sat unread until this month. Long has been my impression that it supports a view popular in certain circles that our Constitution is a sacred text, that the "miracle" of 1787 was due to divine intervention.* Memory of how and when this book came into my possession is hazy, but likely stems from an active interest that I had during the mid-1980s in understanding the view that I believed it represented. I did not share that view then, and now reject it on the basis of deeper and broader knowledge than was mine then.

 

In the mid-1980s, a man whom I knew as a fellow member of a Bible study group suggested several times that I would enjoy Peter Marshall and David Manuel, The Light and the Glory: Did God Have a Plan for America? (1977). "Since you like history, you'll love this book," he told me. I was employed as a substitute teacher while looking for a full-time job teaching high school history. After much prodding, I bought Marshall and Manuel's book, read it, and found it terrible. The authors began with a premise that is rooted in religious belief, offered shallow reference to some Bible verses, and then invested months looking for any scraps of evidence that confirmed their assumption. They even employed a large number of volunteer researchers to help with the task. Their narrative makes clear that accurate history was not the objective.

The Light and the Glory was written well-enough that is was easy reading despite obvious failures as a work of credible history. Even so, at the time I shared their vision for a Christian awakening in the United States. I did not agree that we had been a Christian nation from the beginning, at least not in the sense that they understood it.

A few years earlier, perhaps spring 1981, some of the views pushed by Marshall and Manuel were the focus of a film and rally that I had attended. Certain details are no longer clear in my memory. The film presented images of a religious rally in Washington D.C., where Christians gathered to pray. Perhaps it was the Washington for Jesus rally held in April 1980. My clearest memories of the event in Beasley Performing Arts Coliseum on the campus of Washington State University, where I was a student, are singing, holding hands with those beside me, and swaying from side-to-side. Throughout the evening a single Bible verse was repeated over and over again. "If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land" (2 Chronicles 7:14).

Marshall and Manuel also deploy this verse.

I recall having the opinion that this verse had been wrenched from its context to apply it inappropriately to the United States. Central to this memory is the heated argument my friend Vic and I had as we walked back to our dorm. He did not share my concern that the Bible verse was misapplied. We were part of a religious group that emphasized careful Bible study, reading the Bible cover-to-cover annually, and memorizing Bible verses. I spent my first two summers during college at summer training in San Diego with this group. The second summer was devoted to four hours per day of careful and detailed study of a single book of the Bible (Colossians). I still value the close reading skills that I honed that summer, as they have proven useful for texts of all sorts.

Reading 2 Chronicles 7 as a whole does not lead me to think that it applies in any manner whatsoever to the United States. The belief that is does has had growing influence among the Religious Right since the 1980s. When this religious belief is supported by inaccurate history, it merits criticism.

When I acquired Miracle at Philadelphia, I intended to read it. More than likely, I expected that it would reveal itself part of the bad history pushed in The Light and the Glory. I was wrong.

George Washington wrote in a letter to Marquis de Lafayette:

It appears to me, then, little short of a miracle, that the Delegates from so many different States (which States you know are also different from each other in their manners, circumstances and prejudices) should unite in forming a system of national Government, so little liable to well founded objections.
Washington to Lafayette, 7 February 1788 (at Founders Online)

This quote appears as a headnote at the beginning of Miracle at Philadelphia. My assumption that the book's title represented a theocratic perspective should have been easy to dismiss. In fact, aside from a snark finding "odd" the "slight taint of the Sunday school"** concerning Washington, the entrance of divine power in Bowen's telling of the story of the Convention begins with Franklin's call to prayer near the end of June (28, 125-127). This episode is well-known and always struck me as illustrative of Franklin's pragmatism.

Bowen's narrative of the call to prayer consists almost entirely of excerpts from Franklin's speech and the subsequent discussion as recorded by Madison and others. She begins with a physical description of Franklin, "sitting with the famous double spectacles low on his nose" (125). Then two paragraphs of Franklin's speech, summary of a portion of the speech, and then Franklin's call for action.

I therefore beg leave to move that henceforth prayers imploring the assistance of Heaven, and its blessings on our deliberations, be held in this Assembly every morning before we proceed to business, and that one or more of the Clergy of this City be requested to officiate in that service.
Benjamin Franklin, 28 June 1787, as quoted by Bowen (126)

Roger Sherman seconded Franklin's motion, there was a brief discussion, but no vote was taken. Decades later, before most of the primary documents became available, an account of this event was presented in a letter by a man who claimed to be telling a story as he learned it from one of those present. This letter was then published and widely distributed.

According to this account, after Franklin's motion:

The doctor sat down, and never (said Gen. D.) did I behold a countenance at once so dignified and delighted as was that of Washington, at the close of this address! Nor were the members of the Convention, generally less affected. The words of the venerable Franklin fell upon our ears with a weight and authority, even greater than we may suppose an oracle to have had in a Roman senate! A silent admiration superseded, for a moment, the expression of that assent and approbation which was strongly marked on almost every countenance ...The three days of recess were spent in the manner advised by Doctor Franklin; the opposite parties mixed with each other, and a free and frank interchange of sentiments took place. On the fourth day we assembled again, and if great additional light had not been thrown on the subject, every unfriendly feeling had been expelled; and a spirit of conciliation had been cultivated, which promised, at least, a calm and dispassionate reconsideration of the subject.
William Steele to Jonathan Steele, September 1825 (Records of the Federal Convention of 1787)

Although Bowen does not mention Steele by name, she references some of the contents of this letter: "it was rumored that Hamilton had said ironically the Convention was not in need of 'foreign aid'. This is palpable nonsense" (127). James Madison refers to the account in the letter as "erroniously given" (Madison to Jared Sparks, 8 April 1831, Founders Online).

The myth propagated by Steele may be better known than a more accurate narrative rooted in primary sources produced by those at the convention.

Debates continued without resolution, according to Bowen, and then the Convention took a recess. Up to this point in the book, Bowen's narrative follows the Convention day-by-day and does not steer far from the available primary sources. Then, she departs from the Convention itself to sketch in some details about the American people, the land, and some of the issues of the day, especially focusing on the ways these issues produced sectional divisions between north and south, large states and small, and conflicts over how the West should be developed and governed. When she returns to the Convention itself, she mentions a letter Franklin wrote to the Pennsylvania Packet three days after the Great Compromise. From there she works back to the compromise itself.

After two months of constant bickering between large states and small, it was finally agreed on 16 July 1787 that there would be equal representation of each state in the Senate and proportional representation of each state in the House.

Was Franklin's call to prayer the decisive turning point? Marshall and Manuel state that it was.

That speech--and the sober reflection in the silence which followed--marked the turning-point. Their priorities rearranged by Franklin's startling admonition, the delegates, nearly all of whom were believers of one kind or another, got on with the business of crafting a new constitution. (343)

Bowen's narrative of what led to the Great Compromise could be read as the hand of divine power, but also admits natural explanations: 

Perhaps the delegates would never have reached agreement, had not the heat broken. By Monday, July sixteenth, Philadelphia was cool after a month of torment; ... Even the mosquitoes were quiescent, though on the streets at noon the horseflies droned and darted. (186)

Bowen's narrative is a lively read. My neglect of this book for nearly four decades was an error. She contests rather than supports the myths propagated by Marshall and Manuel.

I do wish, however, that the author had not opted to leave out clear documentation. She states that she had copious footnotes and deleted them.

The book's opening paragraph sent me in search. It, too, was focused on the weather in that hot Philadelphia summer. She mentions a diarist stated there were fewer "cooling thunderstorms" and then, "Perhaps the new 'installic rods' everywhere fixed on the houses might have robbed the clouds of their electric fluid" (3). Benjamin Franklin invented the lightning rod. The glimpse Bowen gives the reader here of the popularity of his invention and of the state of eighteenth century scientific understanding of the weather and human agency would be worth pursuing through the sources she does not divulge.


  
*Although principally authored by Thomas Jefferson, The Declaration of Independence also gets pulled into the orbit of those holding this view. See Pauline Maier, American Scripture: Making the Declaration of Independence (1997).

**Bowen mentions Parson Weems: "perhaps Parson Weems will never be lived down" (28). Mason Locke "Parson" Weems, A History of the Life and Death, Virtues and Exploits of General George Washington (1800) was a popular book as is the source of many apocryphal stories about Washington and events that took place in eighteenth century America.

Ben Franklin On Wine

Beer is proof God loves us and wants us to be happy.
Attributed to Benjamin Franklin

There are plenty of references to beer in Benjamin Franklin's writings and other papers. His wife, Deborah, mentions beer in a list of household expenses for May 1762. Richard Saunders (one of Franklin's pseudonyms) describes Mead as "the best of Small Beer" (Poor Richard Improved, 1765). In describing objections of the American colonists to the Stamp Act, he noted the "too heavy Duty on foreign Mellasses" interfered in procurement of "one of the Necessaries of Life ... universally a principal Ingredient in their common Beer" (Fragments of a Pamphlet on the Stamp Act). There are also references to Thomas Beer, whom John Adams mentioned, "had been obliged to fly from England, for having assisted American Prisoners to escape" (Adams to Franklin, 18 October 1781).

These references are found easily among the thirty-four to "beer" in the digitized edition of The Franklin Papers at Yale. These papers comprise thirty-nine published volumes and more in the works. A search of the same digital archives produces two hundred twenty-six references to wine.

Ben Franklin's famous quote regarding beer as evidence of God's love appears nowhere in the Franklin Papers at Yale. They do not have the largest collection of his letters. Even so, their digital archive is easy to use, and offers a considerable trove of Franklin's writing.

According to Fred R. Shapiro, editor of The Yale Book of Quotations (2006), the earliest instance of Franklin's beer quote may have been in Beverage World (1 February 1996). This past March, he challenged readers of his Freakonomics column to push that date back earlier with their own research. Shapiro believes, as do many others who have explored the topic, that Franklin's beer quote is a corruption of another less well-known statement regarding divine favor in the watering of the vines that make possible the production of wine.

We hear of the conversion of water into wine at the marriage in Cana, as of a miracle. But this conversion is, through the goodness of God, made every day before our eyes. Behold the rain which descends from heaven upon our vineyards, and which incorporates itself with the grapes to be changed into wine; a constant proof that God loves us, and loves to see us happy! The miracle in question was only performed to hasten the operation under circumstances of present necessity, which required it.
Franklin to Abbé André Morellet

This letter appears nowhere in the Franklin papers at Yale. It does appear in a collection of writings put out by William Temple Franklin, executor of Franklin's literary estate. Both the original letter, in French, and an English translation appear in William Temple Franklin, Memoirs of the Life and Writings of Benjamin Franklin, vol. V, 3d ed (London: Printed for Henry Colburn, 1819), pp. 286-291. Google has digitized a copy.


Sourcing

[Lendol] Calder attempts to identify the peculiar signature of the practice of history. He seeks to introduce to his students six "cognitive habits: questioning, connecting, sourcing, making inferences, considering alternate perspectives, and recognizing limits to one's knowledge" (emphasis added).
James Stripes, "Reflective Thinking, Teaching and Learning"

Bloggers often fail to source their work. Politicians fail almost universally. Beer advocates are not particularly prone to verifying that a compelling phrase uttered (or written) by one of America's true greats was indeed so uttered or penned. But, historians (and many journalists) should know better. Those who blog or otherwise write about the American past, or any other past for that matter, should develop the cognitive habits of the historian: questioning, connecting, sourcing, making inferences, considering alternate perspectives, and recognizing limits to one's knowledge.

It galls me that so many folks on the internet quote a part of one paragraph from Franklin's letter on wine, but so few present a verifiable source. It is easy to claim that Franklin never said, "beer is proof that God love us," and to offer an alternate quote concerning wine. But such claims need footnotes. Historians source their work. If there is not a credible primary source (even an edited one), then the claim has no merit.

The Claremont Review of Books offered Franklin's entire letter in 2002, and placed it on the web in 2004. But that esteemed publication, putatively committed to the values of the Founders, offered no indication whether they found the letter laying on their lawn or in some research library somewhere. Even so, by offering the letter whole, they facilitate readers learning some context for the oft-quoted passage.

Perhaps in time a scholar will verify that Franklin's beer quote is neither fraudulent nor apocryphal. If he said it, or wrote it, there may be a letter somewhere. Until then, the supposition that it is a corruption of his letter concerning divination, the love of God, and the daily miracle of rains watering vines stands as most plausible.