ing interests; of yielding a little to accomplish much; of knowing how to persuade, how to push and how to wait. All these things Franklin instinctively knew how to do, and he even perfected himself in the diplomatic art of dining. He rather liked it, too. He loved, as he said, “good company, a chat, a laugh, a glass and even a song as well as ever,” and at the same time he relished more than ever the grave observations and wise sentences of old men's conversation. His great diplomatic achievement during the first five-year period of his service consisted in making a compromise on a disputed question in which the colony had all the advantages and the proprietaries an empty nothing.
He had also his ups and downs. In 1762 he returned to Philadelphia, desiring to give himself entirely to scientific pursuits. An Indian broil made him the staunch friend and defender of the poor savage, and a new quarrel with the proprietaries sent him back to England. Now his diplomatic business grew more serious. The stamp act was passed. At the request of the government the colonial agents, although protesting against the measure, he had given the names of men fitted to be stamp-tax collectors. When the news reached America, a storm broke loose. Philadelphia, like other cities, was in a blaze of excitement. Franklin's enemies spread the story that he had not only approved of the stamp act but tried at once to get under it a fat office for a friend. Popular feeling against him ran so high that his house was said to be in danger of being mobbed. Franklin, when he heard of this, bore it calmly. The true Franklin was soon to appear again.
The business world in England grew alarmed at the outburst in America and began to clamor for the repeal of the stamp act. Parliament instituted an inquiry. At the bar of the House of Commons English business
