popular party. There was something in his imperturbable good nature
which it is difficult to explain. No scenes of woe seemed to depress
his cheerful spirits. No atrocities of oppression could excite his
indignation. He could thrust his keen dagger points into the vitals of
his antagonist, with a smile upon his face and jokes upon his lips
which would convulse both friend and foe with laughter. He was the
most unrelenting antagonist of Governor Denny in the Assembly, and yet
he was the only man who remained on good terms with the governor,
visiting him, and dining with him.

Governor Denny was a gentleman, and well educated, and few men could
appear to better advantage in the saloons of fashion. But he was
trammeled beyond all independent action, by the instructions he had
received from the proprietaries. He was right in heart, was in
sympathy with Franklin, and with reluctance endeavored to enforce the
arbitrary measures with which he was entrusted.

Franklin was one of the most companionable of men. His wonderful
powers of conversation, his sweetness of temper, and his entire
ignoring of all aristocratic assumption, made him one of the most
fascinating of guests in every circle. He charmed alike the rich and
the poor, the learned and the ignorant.

In November, 1756, he accompanied Governor Denny to the frontier to
confer with the chiefs of several Indian tribes. The savages, to say
the least, were as punctilious in the observance of the laws of honor,
in securing the safety of the ambassadors on such an occasion, as were
the English.

The governor and the philosopher rode side by side on horseback,
accompanied by only a few body servants. The governor, familiar with
the clubs and the wits of England, entertained Franklin, in the
highest degree, with the literary gossip of London, and probably
excited in his mind an intense desire to visit those scenes, which he
himself was so calculated to enjoy and to embellish. On the journey
he wrote the following comic letter to his wife. He had been
disappointed in not receiving a line from her by a certain messenger.

"I had a good mind not to write to you by this opportunity,
but I never can be ill-natured enough even when there is
most occasion. I think I won't tell you that we are well,
and that we expect to return about the middle of the week,
nor will I send you a word of news; that's poz. My duty to
mother, love to the children, and t