autonomy, and to safeguard the fact of popular freedom.1 Franklin's voice was always in favour of the more generous provision, the ampler liberty; was always earnestly opposed to whatever might tend to make governmental oppression at some future time possible, and still more to whatever could have a tendency to depress the self-respect or inhibit the honest ambition of the poorest man. Some of his finest utterances were in maintenance of that plea; and it is a symptom of the noble feeling with which Franklin was regarded by the noblest men, that Hamilton would give his support to Franklin's recommendations, though they were essentially moral criticisms of the policy which he himself thought best for the country. Many times in the course of the four months' labour of the Convention did Franklin's wisdom and his humour, and still more that spirit of cheerfulness and goodwill, and that suggestion, which his every word somehow conveyed, of a common purpose animating them all alike, and making them all friends and assistants of each other in the same quest-many a time did this rare and complex talent of Franklin's remove a difficulty, or inspire the right temper in which to approach it. Yet there was one question upon which, it seemed, for all that could be argued by the ablest or urged by the best, the Union must go to pieces. This was the question of the proportion in which the different States, varying so vastly as they did in size and population and wealth and historical importance, should be represented in the Legislature. The small States, like New Jersey, claimed to count equally

1 Called at first Republican, and at a later time Democratic. The two terms are now opposed, the latter designating the school of Franklin and Jefferson, and the former-a more Ancient Influence in human affairs, I suspect.

un

with great ones, like Pennsylvania and Virginia. Round this question it was war utter and compromising war to the death, or to the disruption of the Union. For those who were in the right could not give way, and those who were in the wrong would not. A way out was found in the end by Franklin, who, not in one act, but by two approximations, developed his plan for allaying the fears of the little States, lest they be overborne, and yet saving the larger ones from what would have become, had it been practicable at all, a tyranny as impudent as it was unjust. The plan was to have two Houses, and give a proportional representation in the one and an equal representation in the other, and to divide or balance their functions so as to secure just government for the whole. This, the central or the basic article in the Constitution of the United States, was a gift of Franklin to his country not unworthy to rank with his earlier services. And when at last the draft Constitution was framed, and it was time to put it to the House for acceptance in its entirety, that it might then be submitted to the nation for approval, it was Franklin who carried it over its final perils by a speech of matchless wisdom, tolerance, and humour. His labours had the only reward which a heart like his could desire. For though but two and a half years of life remained to him when the Convention finished its work in September 1787, he yet lived long enough to see justified that confidence in the good-citizen qualities of his countrymen, and that faith in the great future of the nation, which he had held unwaveringly, and without an effort, in the midst of conditions and in spite of signs that had seemed to other men desperate.

Yet even the termination of his third Presidentship of Pennsylvania in the autumn of 1788, if it ended his official career, did not end his public services.

He still plied, from time to time, a pen that influenced opinion, in spite of anonymity, as no other could. Some of the wisest and wittiest of his writings belong to the last two years of his life, so full of suffering as those years were. Most of that period was passed in bed, and the intermissions of agonising pain were few and brief; yet through all he kept at bay alike the dullness of old age and the peevishness of physical distress. His last public act was to forward, as President of an Abolition Society, a memorial to Congress asking it " to devise a means of removing this inconsistency [the maintenance of negro slavery] from the character of the American people." His last contribution to literature was a brilliant letter, signed "Historicus," in refutation of a pro-slavery speech in Congress. That was on March 23, 1790. He was now bearing up, with patience though not with success, against a crushing combination of maladies. One day his breathing ceased altogether, and he was thought to be dead. But he rallied, and at once resumed his cheerful and benevolent interest in all good causes and efforts. On April 17 he passed into a state of coma, and died in the evening about ten o'clock.

His own State honoured him with great obsequies; and Congress voted that "the usual badge of mourning be worn for a month." It was not much. But it was all the recognition of Franklin's unequalled services which Congress had ever vouchsafed to make. The true scene of national mourning for the death of Franklin was in France; and there the most striking tributes, both of affection and of intellectual commemoration by the greatest men, were paid to his worth. Later generations of Americans have recognised with pain that the glories of their Revolution are a little imperfect because of an act of justice forgone, are a little dimmed to all

honest eyes by an appearance of insufficient gratitude-even the costless gratitude of a "thank you was begrudged-to such a servant, citizen, and patriot as no other country ever had in the history of man.

EVERYMAN'S LIBRARY

V

By ERNEST RHYS

ICTOR HUGO said a Library was "an act of faith,"

and some unknown essayist spoke of one so beautiful,

so perfect, so harmonious in all its parts, that he who made it was smitten with a passion. In that faith the promoters of Everyman's Library planned it out originally on a large scale; and their idea in so doing was to make it conform as far as possible to a perfect scheme. However, perfection is a thing to be aimed at and not to be achieved in this difficult world; and since the first volumes appeared, now several years ago, there have been many interruptions. A great war has come and gone; and even the City of Books has felt something like a world commotion. Only in recent years is the series getting back into its old stride and looking forward to complete its original scheme of a Thousand Volumes. One of the practical expedients in that original plan was to divide the volumes into sections, as Biography, Fiction, History, Belles Lettres, Poetry, Romance, and so forth; with a compartment for young people, and last, and not least, one of Reference Books. Beside the dictionaries and encyclopædias to be expected in that section, there was a special set of literary and historical atlases. One of these atlases dealing with Europe, we may recall, was directly affected by the disturbance of frontiers during the war; and the maps had to be completely revised in consequence, so as to chart