Tuesday, January 17, 2006
The Greatest Ben of All?
"Genius without education," someone once said, "is like silver in the mine."
The speaker in question, born three centuries ago today in Boston clearly recognized the importance of education at an early age. The seventeenth son of a tallow chandler, he would, through a combination of education, discipline, a relentless drive towards self-improvement, and a little bit of luck, cultivate a genius that would echo through the ages. He would become more than another colonial wit or a humorist with access to a printing press. Author, statesman, inventor, ambassador, and civic leader...in his time he was all of these things, becoming America's first Renaissance man in a time which later histories seem to suggest was full of great men.
Here was a man who would be comfortable in any salon in Europe, dispensing sage advice on subjects ranging from thrift ("If you would know the value of money, go and try to borrow some.") to etiquette ("Eat to please thyself, but dress to please others."). At the same time however, he was capable of writing bawdy tracts on the selection of a mistress or satires on the division of large empires into small ones. He devised our modern method of describing electric charges as either positive or negative and created practical inventions that we still make use of today.
And he was a human being with human failings. And he recognized those failings and tried hard to make himself a better person. After all, as he wrote: "Each year one vicious habit discarded, in time might make the worst of us good."
Growing up, it was only natural to feel some affinity with him, if for no other reason than because we shared the same first name, but as I've gotten older, I think my respect for his philosophy, his general attitude toward life, has only increased.
"If you would not be forgotten," he once noted, "either write things worth reading or do things worth the writing."
He certainly did both in his lifetime.
Reading over this post, I wonder how my students would respond if I mentioned that last quote to them tomorrow. To many, I fear that Benjamin Franklin is just another on a long list of white guys who happen to be enshrined on American currency. I'll have to remedy that when we get to our chapter on electricity, in between anecdotes regarding Tesla's death ray and bad puns involving Georg Ohm.
In any event, happy 300th birthday, Mr. Franklin. Many happy returns from one Ben to another.
"Genius without education," someone once said, "is like silver in the mine."
The speaker in question, born three centuries ago today in Boston clearly recognized the importance of education at an early age. The seventeenth son of a tallow chandler, he would, through a combination of education, discipline, a relentless drive towards self-improvement, and a little bit of luck, cultivate a genius that would echo through the ages. He would become more than another colonial wit or a humorist with access to a printing press. Author, statesman, inventor, ambassador, and civic leader...in his time he was all of these things, becoming America's first Renaissance man in a time which later histories seem to suggest was full of great men.
Here was a man who would be comfortable in any salon in Europe, dispensing sage advice on subjects ranging from thrift ("If you would know the value of money, go and try to borrow some.") to etiquette ("Eat to please thyself, but dress to please others."). At the same time however, he was capable of writing bawdy tracts on the selection of a mistress or satires on the division of large empires into small ones. He devised our modern method of describing electric charges as either positive or negative and created practical inventions that we still make use of today.
And he was a human being with human failings. And he recognized those failings and tried hard to make himself a better person. After all, as he wrote: "Each year one vicious habit discarded, in time might make the worst of us good."
Growing up, it was only natural to feel some affinity with him, if for no other reason than because we shared the same first name, but as I've gotten older, I think my respect for his philosophy, his general attitude toward life, has only increased.
"If you would not be forgotten," he once noted, "either write things worth reading or do things worth the writing."
He certainly did both in his lifetime.
Reading over this post, I wonder how my students would respond if I mentioned that last quote to them tomorrow. To many, I fear that Benjamin Franklin is just another on a long list of white guys who happen to be enshrined on American currency. I'll have to remedy that when we get to our chapter on electricity, in between anecdotes regarding Tesla's death ray and bad puns involving Georg Ohm.
In any event, happy 300th birthday, Mr. Franklin. Many happy returns from one Ben to another.
