FRANKLIN, Benjamin (1706–90), US statesman, diplomat, scientist, and inventor.
1 In Paris in the early 1770s after the death of his wife, Franklin thought seriously of marrying Madame Helvétius, the attractive widow of the famous philosopher. Meeting him after a few days during which the pressure of his other commitments had prevented him from seeing her, she chided him for not paying her a visit. “Madam, I am waiting until the nights are longer,” was the reply.
2 When a committee sat to examine the wording of Jefferson’s draft of the Declaration of Independence, the proud author was somewhat discomfited by their editorial revisions. Franklin noticed his colleague’s distress and told him a little story. When he was a young man, Franklin said, he had a friend who had completed his apprenticeship as a hatter and was about to open up in business for himself. He was anxious to have a fine signboard and composed one with the inscription “John Thompson, hatter, makes and sells hats for ready money,” over the depiction of a hat. He then showed it to his friends and asked them what they thought. The first one remarked that “hatter” was superfluous, as “makes and sells hats” showed the nature of the business. The second pointed out that “makes” could be left off the sign, as customers were unlikely to be interested in who had made the hats. The third friend said that as it was not the custom locally to sell on credit, the words “for ready money” were superfluous, and they too were struck out, leaving just: “John Thompson sells hats.” “No one would expect you to give them away,” said the fourth friend, “so what is the point of ‘sells’?” Finally someone said that it seemed unnecessary to have the word “hats” on the board since there was the painted picture of a hat. So the board eventually read “John Thompson” with a picture of a hat underneath the name. Jefferson was much mollified by this story, and it was generally agreed that the committee’s editorial work had improved the wording of the Declaration of Independence.
3 At the signing of the first draft of the Declaration of Independence John Hancock, one of the signatories, observed, “We must be unanimous, we must all hang together.” Franklin replied, “We must indeed all hang together — or, most assuredly, we shall all hang separately.”
4 After the Declaration of Independence each state assembly busied itself with drafting new constitutions and laws to take the place of the old. The Pennsylvania Assembly passed two or three months in such business, but at the end of the time the delegates were no closer to agreeing on a new form of government than they had been when they started. The citizens of Pennsylvania, on the other hand, had gone quietly about their daily lives, and affairs in the state had run pretty smoothly without the benefit of a new constitution. Franklin pointed out to his fellow delegates the dangers of this situation: “Gentlemen, you see we have been living under anarchy, yet the business of living has gone on as usual. Be careful; if our debates go on too much longer, people may come to see that they can get along very well without us.”
5 A French well-wisher remarked enthusiastically to Franklin in 1776 that the revolutionary states of America offered a great spectacle. “Yes,” Franklin agreed, “but the spectators don’t pay.”
6 Shortly after Washington’s victory at York-town, Benjamin Franklin, as America’s minister in Europe, attended a dinner in Paris at which the French foreign minister and the British ambassador were also present. The Frenchman proposed a toast to his king: “Louix XVI, who like the moon fills the earth with a soft benevolent glow.” The British ambassador followed with: “George III, who like the noonday sun spreads his light and illumines the world.” Franklin rose and said, “I give you George Washington, general of the armies of the United States, who, like Joshua of old, commanded both the sun and the moon to stand still and both obeyed.”
7 When Franklin was dining out in Paris, one of the other diners posed the question: “What condition of man most deserves pity?” Each guest proposed an example of such a pitiable condition. When Franklin’s turn came, he offered: “A lonesome man on a rainy day who does not know how to read.”
8 Franklin was walking with friends along the banks of a small stream. The wind that day was strong enough to form waves on the surface of the water. Announcing that he had the power to calm the waves, Franklin walked a little way upstream and solemnly waved his walking stick three times over the water. His companions watched in amazement as the surface of the stream became as smooth as glass. Franklin later enlightened them: he had shaken a few drops of oil from the hollow joint of his bamboo cane.
9 When Franklin was in France, he frequently used to play chess with the elderly Duchess of Bourbon. On one occasion Franklin put her king in check and then took it. “We do not take kings so,” remonstrated the duchess. “We do in America,” replied Franklin.
10 Franklin was taken to a meeting of the French Academy at which Voltaire was also present. The members of the Academy all wished to see the two famous men introduced to each other, and there was a buzz of expectation as the introduction was made. The two bowed and spoke, as politeness demanded, but the onlookers, who felt they were witnessing a historic moment, thought there ought to be something more. The great men, slightly embarrassed and puzzled, took each other by the hand. Still the onlookers felt cheated and the noise increased. “Il faut s’embrasser, à la française [You need to embrace like the French do],” someone explained. So Franklin and Voltaire threw their arms around each other and kissed each other on the cheeks, to the tumultuous applause of the Academy members. One witness exclaimed, “Qu’il était charmant de voir embrasser Solon et Sophocle!” (How delightful to see Solon and Sophocles embracing!) and these words spread throughout Europe as epitomizing this momentous encounter.
11 At a meeting of a Parisian literary society Franklin found himself a bit at sea as flowery compliments in French were exchanged. He decided that it would be safest to clap only when he saw a lady of his acquaintance applauding. After the gathering was over, Franklin’s little grandson said, “But, Grandpapa, you always applauded, and louder than anyone else, when they praised you.”
12 At the conclusion of the Constitutional Convention, a lady asked Franklin, “Well, doctor, do we have a republic or a monarchy?”
“A republic — if we can keep it,” Franklin replied.
13 An English peer invited Franklin, during his stay in London, to admire a house the peer had recently had built for himself. Behind the handsome colonnaded facade, the house was oddly and inconveniently laid out on account of the narrow and irregular plot on which it had been constructed. “All you need to do to enjoy your house, my lord,” Franklin observed, “is to rent a spacious apartment directly across the street.”
14 Seeing Franklin lying in an awkward position during his last hours, his daughter tried to raise him into a more comfortable attitude, hoping, as she said, to enable him to lie easier. “A dying man can do nothing easy,” said Franklin.
15 Franklin composed his own epitaph, which reflected his belief in life after death:
“The body of B. Franklin, printer,
Like the cover of an old book,
Its contents torn out,
And stript of its lettering and gilding
Lies here, food for worms.
But the work itself shall not be lost;
For it will, as he believed, appear once more
In a new and more elegant edition,
Corrected and amended
By its author.”
FRANKS, Sir Oliver Shewell (1905–92), British diplomat.
1 In December 1948, a Washington radio station telephoned various ambassadors in the capital, asking what they would like for Christmas. The unedited replies were recorded and broadcast in a special program the following week. “Peace throughout the world,” proclaimed the French ambassador. “Freedom for all people enslaved by imperialism,” demanded the Russian ambassador. “Well, it’s very kind of you to ask,” came the polite voice of Sir Oliver. “I’d quite like a box of crystallized fruit.”
FREDERI
CK II [Frederick the Great] (1712–86), king of Prussia (1740–86).
1 On a campaign in Silesia, Frederick gave orders that all fires and lights were to be extinguished in his camp by a certain hour. To make certain that his order was obeyed he himself went the rounds. Passing by the tent of a certain Captain Zietern, he saw the glimmer of a candle, and upon entering found the officer sealing a letter to his wife. Frederick demanded to know what he thought he was doing; did he not know the orders? The captain threw himself at the king’s feet, unable to deny or excuse his disobedience. Frederick told him to sit down and add a postscript to the letter, which he dictated: “Tomorrow I shall perish on the scaffold.” Zietern wrote what he was told and was duly executed the following day.
2 Frederick arranged a tour of inspection of the prison in Berlin. The prisoners fell on their knees before him, all vigorously protesting their innocence. One man alone remained silent and aloof. Frederick called to him, “You there. Why are you here?”
“Armed robbery, Your Majesty.”
“And are you guilty?”
“Yes, indeed, Your Majesty. I entirely deserve my punishment.”
Frederick summoned the warder. “Guard, release this guilty wretch at once. I will not have him kept in this prison where he will corrupt all the fine innocent people who occupy it.”
3 One of Frederick’s worst setbacks during the Seven Years’ War was in 1757 at the battle of Kolin, when he was forced to abandon the siege of Prague. As his cavalry streamed past him in full retreat, Frederick tried to rally them with shouts of “Rogues! Cowards! Would you live forever?”
4 Rossbach (1757) was one of Frederick’s greatest victories, when, with very little damage to itself, the Prussian army inflicted heavy losses on the opposing French and German forces. Many French officers were captured. Frederick, who had justifiable hopes of weaning the French away from the alliance against him, invited them to share his table. He apologized for the scanty provisions, saying, “But, gentlemen, I did not expect you so soon, and in such large numbers.”
5 After the disastrous defeat suffered by Frederick’s forces at Kunersdorf, many men deserted from the Prussian army. One was caught and taken before the king, who asked him why he had deserted. “Because things were going badly for Your Majesty.” Frederick reflected for a moment, then said mildly, “I suggest that you wait a week. Then, if things are still going badly, we’ll desert together.”
6 His cook Noël one day served some marvelous pastry to which the king paid due honor. After complimenting Noël, he added, “But don’t serve this too often. Gluttony is a sin, and we may both in consequence have to burn in hell.” The cook replied, “That shouldn’t frighten us — everyone knows that neither of us is afraid of fire.”
7 The worthy General von Winterfeldt had long been in disfavor with the king. Happening to encounter the monarch in Potsdam, he saluted him with the greatest respect, but Frederick simply turned his back on him. “I am happy to see that Your Majesty is no longer angry with me,” murmured Winterfeldt. “How so?” demanded Frederick. “Because Your Majesty has never in his life turned his back on an enemy,” replied the general.
8 A soldier in one of the Prussian regiments had a watch chain of which he was very proud. Because he could not afford a watch he used to wear a bullet attached to the chain’s free end. One day Frederick noticed this curious ornament and, deciding to have some fun with the man, took out his own diamond-studded watch. “My watch tells me that it is five o’clock,” he said. “What time does yours tell?” Replied the soldier: “My watch does not tell me the hour, but tells me every minute that it is my duty to die for Your Majesty.” Frederick was so pleased with this response that he handed his own watch over to the man, saying, “Take this so you may be able to tell the hour also.”
9 In 1770 Frederick’s court was visited by General Gideon von Laudon. Before his retirement in 1763 Laudon had been one of Austria’s most successful military commanders and had inflicted heavy defeats on Frederick himself at Kunersdorf and Landshut during his country’s Seven Years’ War with Prussia. At a formal dinner the general was placed across the table from Frederick. When the king, never slow to acknowledge military skill even in an adversary, saw where Laudon had been seated, he called out for all his court to hear, “Pray, sir, take place here at my right. I do not feel at ease to have you opposite me, even at table.”
10 When the time came to sign the treaty for the first partition of Poland in 1772, Maria Theresa, Archduchess of Austria, wept. “I sign because so many great and wise men want me to,” she said. “But a long time after my death, the world will witness the results of an act that has gone against all precedent of what is accepted as sacred and just.” Frederick the Great was unmoved by her tears. “She is always weeping,” he observed, “but always annexing.”
11 The great physician Georg von Zimmermann was summoned to attend Frederick the Great on his deathbed. The king remarked ironically, “You have, I presume, sir, helped many a man into the next world.”
“Not as many as Your Majesty,” replied the doctor, “nor did so much glory accrue to me.”
FREDERICK AUGUSTUS I (1750–1827), elector (1763–1806) and king (1806–27) of Saxony.
1 The king had a barber who, like himself, had no prejudice against wine. Once the barber happened to nick the monarch badly. The latter broke out, “That comes from all that damned alcohol!”
“Unfortunately true, Your Majesty,” said the barber humbly. “Alcohol does tend to dry the skin.”
FREDERICK WILLIAM I (1688–1740), king of Prussia (1713–40).
1 Frederick William was deeply disappointed by his son, the future Frederick the Great, who in his youth seemed more interested in French culture, music, and literature than in the military virtues. The father’s disaffection turned to actual hatred, and his treatment became so harsh that the young prince decided to run away, with the aid of two accomplices, Lieutenants Katte and Keith. Their plan was discovered; Keith escaped, but the prince and Katte were captured and court-martialed. Katte was sentenced to life imprisonment, Frederick to solitary confinement. Frederick William, deciding that Katte’s sentence was too lenient, had him beheaded in the presence of Prince Frederick. This drastic measure had the desired effect; Frederick asked the king’s pardon and began to apply himself to acquiring the Prussian military philosophy.
2 The pastor attending Frederick William on his deathbed warned him that if he wished to go to heaven he must forgive all his enemies. The king’s thoughts immediately turned to his hated brother-in-law, George II of England. “In that case,” he told his wife reluctantly, “write to your brother and tell him I forgive him, but be sure not to do it until after my death.”
3 The priest sent to console the dying Frederick William read to him out of the Book of Job: “Naked came I out of my mother’s womb and naked shall I return thither.” The king replied, “No, not quite naked. I shall have my uniform on.” And died.
FREDERICK WILLIAM IV (1795–1861), king of Prussia (1840–61).
1 The citizens of the town of Gumbinnen petitioned the king for leave to change the name of their local river, the Pissa. Frederick William endorsed the petition: “Granted. Recommend Urinoco.”
2 The king attended the performance of a lengthy, tedious, and now justifiably forgotten play. As he left the royal loge, he noticed the loge attendant slumped in his chair, fast asleep. “An eavesdropper,” whispered the king to his aide.
FREUD, Sigmund (1856–1939), Austrian psychiatrist, founder of modern psychoanalysis.
1 On a visit to the United States Freud admitted to Carl Jung that he found American women disturbing and that they gave him erotic dreams. “I continue to dream of prostitutes,” he complained. “Why don’t you do something about it then?” asked Jung. Freud was shocked. “But I’m a married man,” exclaimed the crusader against repression.
2 Cigar smoking is often thought of as a symbolic activity, the cigar itself frequently interpreted as a pha
llic symbol or emblem of masculinity. Freud himself was an inveterate cigar smoker. A curious student once asked him if his cigar smoking carried any particular symbolic weight for him. He puffed reflectively, then replied, “Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.”
3 In a raid on Vienna in 1938, the Germans ransacked Freud’s office and emptied his safe. On his return, Freud simply shrugged his shoulders and remarked, “I would never have taken so much for a single visit.”
FRITH, William Powell (1819–1909), British artist.
1 The superstition that if thirteen people sit down to a meal together the first one to rise from the table will die within the year is supported by an anecdote told of Frith’s wife, Isabelle. The Friths were dining with eleven others and at the end of the meal Mrs. Frith got up saying, “I will be the first because I can best be spared.” Her friend, the widowed Mrs. Brooks, immediately leaped up too. “Well, I’ll be the second, for if you died, I shouldn’t want to live.”
Within a month Mrs. Frith was dead, and Mrs. Brooks died five months later.
FROHMAN, Charles (1860–1915), US theatrical manager.
1 When the unarmed British passenger ship Lusitania was sunk by a German submarine in the Atlantic, Charles Frohman was among the nearly twelve hundred people who perished. Trying to encourage a group of passengers as the ship was sinking, he shouted, “Why fear death? Death is only a beautiful adventure,” thus paraphrasing a line from Barrie’s Peter Pan (“To die will be an awfully big adventure”).
FROST, Robert Lee (1874–1963), US poet.
1 After a dinner party Robert Frost and the other guests went out onto the veranda to watch the sunset. “Oh, Mr. Frost, isn’t it a lovely sunset?” exclaimed a young woman. “I never discuss business after dinner,” Frost replied.
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