The Complete Works in Philosophy, Politics and Morals of the late Dr. Benjamin Franklin, Vol. 1 [of 3]
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Title: The Complete Works in Philosophy, Politics and Morals of the late Dr. Benjamin Franklin, Vol. 1 [of 3]
Author: Benjamin Franklin
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[Illustration: BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, L.L.D.
_Publish'd April 1, 1806; by Longman, Rees, Hurst, & Orme,
Paternoster Row._]
The
WORKS
Of
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, L.L.D.
VOL. 1.
[Illustration: (Engraved by W. & G. Cooke.)]
PRINTED,
for Longman, Hurst, Rees, & Orme, Paternoster Row, London.
THE
COMPLETE
WORKS,
IN
PHILOSOPHY, POLITICS, AND MORALS,
OF THE LATE
DR. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN,
NOW FIRST COLLECTED AND ARRANGED:
WITH
MEMOIRS OF HIS EARLY LIFE,
WRITTEN BY HIMSELF.
IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. I.
London:
PRINTED FOR J. JOHNSON, ST. PAUL'S CHURCH-YARD;
AND LONGMAN, HURST, REES AND ORME,
PATERNOSTER-ROW.
1806.
ADVERTISEMENT.
_The works of Dr. Franklin have been often partially collected, never
before brought together in one uniform publication._
_The first collection was made by Mr. Peter Collinson in the year
1751. It consisted of letters, communicated by the author to the
editor, on one subject, electricity, and formed a pamphlet only,
of which the price was half-a-crown. It was enlarged in 1752, by a
second communication on the same subject, and in 1754, by a third,
till, in 1766, by the addition of letters and papers on other
philosophical subjects, it amounted to a quarto volume of 500 pages._
_Ten years after, in 1779, another collection was made, by a
different editor, in one volume, printed both in quarto and octavo,
of papers not contained in the preceding collection, under the title
of Political, Miscellaneous, and Philosophical Pieces._
_In 1787, a third collection appeared in a thin octavo volume,
entitled Philosophical and Miscellaneous Papers._
_And lastly, in 1793, a fourth was published, in two volumes,
crown octavo, consisting of Memoirs of Dr. Franklin's Life, and
Essays humourous, moral and literary, chiefly in the Manner of the
Spectator._
_In the present volumes will be found all the different collections
we have enumerated, together with the various papers of the same
author, that have been published in separate pamphlets, or inserted
in foreign collections of his works, or in the Transactions of our
own or of foreign philosophical societies, or in our own or foreign
newspapers and magazines, as far as discoverable by the editor, who
has been assisted in the research by a gentleman in America. Among
these papers some, we conceive, will be new to the English reader on
this side of the Atlantic; particularly a series of essays entitled
The Busy-Body, written, as Dr. Franklin tells us in his Life, when he
was an assiduous imitator of Addison; and a pamphlet, entitled Plain
Truth, with which he is said to have commenced his political career
as a writer. We hoped to have been enabled to add, what would have
been equally new, and still more acceptable, a genuine copy of the
Life of our author, as written by himself; but in this hope we are
disappointed, and we are in consequence obliged to content ourselves
with a translation, which has been already before the public, from
a copy in the French language, coming no farther down than the year
1731; and a continuation of his history from that period, by the late
Dr. Stuber of Philadelphia._
_The character of Dr. Franklin, as a philosopher, a politician,
and a moralist, is too well known to require illustration, and
his writings, from their interesting nature, and the fascinating
simplicity of their style, are too highly esteemed, for any apology
to be necessary for so large a collection of them, unless it should
be deemed necessary by the individual to whom Dr. Franklin in his
will consigned his manuscripts: and to him our apology will consist
in a reference to his own extraordinary conduct._
_In bequeathing his papers, it was no doubt the intention of the
testator, that the world should have the chance of being benefited
by their publication. It was so understood by the person in
question, his grandson, who, accordingly, shortly after the
death of his great relative, hastened to London, the best mart
for literary property, employed an amanuensis for many months in
copying, ransacked our public libraries that nothing might escape,
and at length had so far prepared the works of Dr. Franklin for the
press, that proposals were made by him to several of our principal
booksellers for the sale of them. They were to form three quarto
volumes, and were to contain all the writings, published and
unpublished, of Franklin, with Memoirs of his Life, brought down by
himself to the year 1757, and continued to his death by the legatee.
They were to be published in three different languages, and the
countries corresponding to those languages, France, Germany, and
England, on the same day. The terms asked for the copyright of the
English edition were high, amounting to several thousand pounds,
which occasioned a little demur; but eventually they would no doubt
have been obtained. Nothing more however was heard of the proposals
or the work, in this its fair market. The proprietor, it seems,
had found a bidder of a different description in some emissary of
government, whose object was to withhold the manuscripts from the
world, not to benefit it by their publication; and they thus either
passed into other hands, or the person to whom they were bequeathed
received a remuneration for suppressing them. This at least has been
asserted, by a variety of persons, both in this country and America,
of whom some were at the time intimate with the grandson, and not
wholly unacquainted with the machinations of the ministry; and the
silence, which has been observed for so many years respecting the
publication, gives additional credibility to the report._
_What the manuscripts contained, that should have excited the
jealousy of government, we are unable, as we have never seen them,
positively to affirm; but, from the conspicuous part acted by the
author in the American revolution and the wars connected with it, it
is by no means difficult to guess; and of this we are sure, from his
character, that no disposition of his writings could have been more
contrary to his intentions or wishes._
_We have only to add, that in the present collection, which is
probably all that will ever be published of the works of this
extraordinary man, the papers are methodically arranged, the moral
and philosophical ones according to their subjects, the political
ones, as nearly as may be, according to their dates; that we have
given, in notes, the authorities for ascribing the different pieces
to Franklin; that where no title existed, to indicate the nature of a
letter or paper, we have prefixed a title; and lastly, that we have
compiled an index to the whole, which is placed at the beginning,
instead of, as is usual, at the end of the work, to render the
volumes more equal._
_April 7, 1806._
CONTENTS.
VOL. I.
_Page._
LIFE of Dr. FRANKLIN 1
LETTERS AND PAPERS ON ELECTRICITY.
Introductory Letter. 169
Wonderful effect of points.--Positive and negative
electricity.--Electrical kiss.--Counterfeit spider.--Simple and
commodious electrical machine. 170
Observations on the Leyden bottle, with experiments proving the
different electrical state of its different surfaces. 179
Further experiments confirming the preceding observations.--Leyden
bottle analysed.--Electrical battery.--Magical Picture.--Electrical
wheel or jack.--Electrical feast. 187
Observations and suppositions, towards forming a new hypothesis,
for explaining the several phenomena of thunder-gusts. 203
Introductory letter to some additional papers. 216
Opinions and conjectures, concerning the properties and effects
of the electrical matter, and the means of preserving buildings,
ships, &c. from lightning, arising from experiments and
observations made at Philadelphia, 1749.--Golden fish.--Extraction
of effluvial virtues by electricity impracticable. 217
Additional experiments: proving that the Leyden bottle has no more
electrical fire in it when charged, than before: nor less when
discharged: that in discharging, the fire does not issue from the
wire and the coating at the same time, as some have thought, but
that the coating always receives what is discharged by the wire,
or an equal quantity: the outer surface being always in a negative
state of electricity, when the inner surface is in a positive
state. 245
Accumulation of the electrical fire proved to be in the electrified
glass.--Effect of lightning on the needle of compasses,
explained.--Gunpowder fired by the electric flame. 247
Unlimited nature of the electric force. 250
The terms, electric per se, and non-electric, improper.--New
relation between metals and water.--Effects of air in electrical
experiments.--Experiment for discovering more of the qualities of
the electric fluid. 252
Mistake, that only metals and water were conductors,
rectified.--Supposition of a region of electric fire above our
atmosphere.--Theorem concerning light.--Poke-weed a cure for
cancers. 256
New experiments.--Paradoxes inferred from them.--Difference in
the electricity of a globe of glass charged, and a globe of
sulphur.--Difficulty of ascertaining which is positive and which
negative. 261
Probable cause of the different attractions and repulsions of the
two electrified globes mentioned in the two preceding letters. 264
Reasons for supposing, that the glass globe charges positively,
and the sulphur negatively.--Hint respecting a leather globe for
experiments when travelling. _ibid._
Electrical kite. 267
Hypothesis, of the sea being the grand source of lightning,
retracted.--Positive, and sometimes negative, electricity of the
clouds discovered.--New experiments and conjectures in support of
this discovery.--Observations recommended for ascertaining the
direction of the electric fluid.--Size of rods for conductors to
buildings.--Appearance of a thunder-cloud described. 269
Additional proofs of the positive and negative state of electricity
in the clouds.--New method of ascertaining it. 284
Electrical experiments, with an attempt to account for their
several phenomena, &c. 286
Experiments made in pursuance of those made by Mr. Canton, dated
December 6, 1753; with explanations, by Mr. Benjamin Franklin. 294
Turkey killed by electricity.--Effect of a shock on the operator
in making the experiment. 299
Differences in the qualities of glass.--Account of Domien, an
electrician and traveller.--Conjectures respecting the pores of
glass.--Origin of the author's idea of drawing down lightning.--No
satisfactory hypothesis respecting the manner in which clouds
become electrified.--Six men knocked down at once by an electrical
shock.--Reflections on the spirit of invention. 301
Beccaria's work on electricity.--Sentiments of Franklin on pointed
rods, not fully understood in Europe.--Effect of lightning on the
church of Newbury, in New England.--Remarks on the subject. 309
Notice of another packet of letters. 313
Extract of a letter from a gentleman in Boston, to Benjamin
Franklin, Esq. concerning the crooked direction, and the source of
lightning, and the swiftness of the electric fire. 314
Observations on the subjects of the preceding letter.--Reasons for
supposing the sea to be the grand source of lightning.--Reasons for
doubting this hypothesis.--Improvement in a globe for raising the
electric fire. 320
Effect of lightning on captain Waddel's compass, and the Dutch
church at New York. 324
Proposal of an experiment to measure the time taken up by an
Electric spark, in moving through any given space. 327
Experiments on boiling water, and glass heated by boiling
water.--Doctrine of repulsion in electrised bodies
doubted.--Electricity of the atmosphere at different
heights.--Electrical horse-race.--Electrical thermometer.--In
what cases the electrical fire produces heat.--Wire lengthened by
electricity.--Good effect of a rod on the house of Mr. West, of
Philadelphia. 331
Answer to some of the foregoing subjects.--How long the Leyden
bottle may be kept charged.--Heated glass rendered permeable by the
electric fluid.--Electrical attraction and repulsion.--Reply to
other subjects in the preceding paper.--Numerous ways of kindling
fire.--Explosion of water.--Knobs and points. 343
Accounts from Carolina (mentioned in the foregoing letter) of the
effects of lightning on two of the rods commonly affixed to houses
there, for securing them against lightning. 361
Mr. William Maine's account of the effects of the lightning on his
rod, dated at Indian Land, in South Carolina, Aug. 28, 1760. 362
On the electricity of the tourmalin. 369
New observation relating to electricity in the atmosphere. 373
Flash of lightning that struck St. Bride's steeple. 374
Best method of securing a powder magazine from lightning. 375
Of lightning, and the methods (now used in America) of securing
buildings and persons from its mischievous effects. 377
St. Bride's steeple.--Utility of electrical conductors to
Steeples.--Singular kind of glass tube. 382
Experiments, observations, and facts, tending to support the
opinion of the utility of long pointed rods, for securing
buildings from damage by strokes of lightning. 383
On the utility of electrical conductors. 400
On the effects of electricity in paralytic cases. 401
Electrical experiments on amber. 403
On the electricity of the fogs in Ireland. 405
Mode of ascertaining, whether the power, giving a shock to those
who touch either the Surinam eel, or the torpedo, be electrical. 408
On the analogy between magnetism and electricity. 410
Concerning the mode of rendering meat tender by electricity. 413
Answer to some queries concerning the choice of glass for the
Leyden experiment. 416
Concerning the Leyden bottle. 418
APPENDIX.
No. 1. Account of experiments made in electricity at Marly. 420
A more particular account of the same, &c. 422
Letter of Mr. W. Watson, F. R. S. to the Royal Society, concerning
the electrical experiments in England upon thunder-clouds. 427
No. 2. Remarks on the Abbé Nollet's Letters to Benjamin Franklin,
Esq. of Philadelphia, on electricity. 430
LIST OF THE PLATES
PLATE I. Electrical Experiments facing page 182
PLATE II. Electrical Air Thermometer 336
PLATE III. Cavendish Experiment 348
PLATE IV. Lightning Rod Experiments 388
_ERRATA._
_Page._ _Line._
2 10: for true, read me.
5 5: for was born, read who was born.
20 1: for Tryon, read Tyron's.
_ib._ 7 from the bottom: for put to blush, read put to the blush.
_ib._ 4 from the bottom: for myself, read by myself.
15 4: for collection, read works.
21 9 from the bottom: for or, read nor.
25 4 from the bottom: for pasquenades, read pasquinades.
28 7: dele the.
_ib._ 12: for printer, read a printer.
28 3 from the bottom: for my old favourite work, Bunyan's
Voyages, read my old favourite Bunyan.
40 5: for money, read in money.
44 3: for Bernet, read Burnet.
_ib._ 17: for unabled, read unable.
50 19: for ingenuous, read ingenious.
67 5: dele bridge.
80 3 from the bottom: for into, read into which.
235 21: substitute + for *.
264 2: for course read cause.
LIFE
OF
_DR. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN._
_LIFE_ OF DR. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, &c. &c.
MY DEAR SON,
I have amused myself with collecting some little anecdotes of my
family. You may remember the enquiries I made, when you were with
me in England, among such of my relations as were then living; and
the journey I undertook for that purpose. To be acquainted with the
particulars of my parentage and life, many of which are unknown to
you, I flatter myself will afford the same pleasure to you as to me.
I shall relate them upon paper: it will be an agreeable employment
of a week's uninterrupted leisure, which I promise myself during
my present retirement in the country. There are also other motives
which induce me to the undertaking. From the bosom of poverty and
obscurity, in which I drew my first breath, and spent my earliest
years, I have raised myself to a state of opulence and to some degree
of celebrity in the world. A constant good fortune has attended me
through every period of life to my present advanced age; and my
descendants may be desirous of learning what were the means of which
I made use, and which, thanks to the assisting hand of providence,
have proved so eminently successful. They may also, should they ever
be placed in a similar situation, derive some advantage from my
narrative.
When I reflect, as I frequently do, upon the felicity I have enjoyed,
I sometimes say to myself, that, were the offer made me, I would
engage to run again, from beginning to end, the same career of life.
All I would ask, should be the privilege of an author, to correct,
in a second edition, certain errors of the first. I could wish,
likewise if it were in my power, to change some trivial incidents
and events for others more favourable. Were this, however, denied
me, still would I not decline the offer. But since a repetition of
life cannot take place, there is nothing which, in my opinion, so
nearly resembles it, as to call to mind all its circumstances, and,
to render their remembrance more durable, commit them to writing. By
thus employing myself, I shall yield to the inclination, so natural
in old men, to talk of themselves and their exploits, and may freely
follow my bent, without being tiresome to those who, from respect
to my age, might think themselves obliged to listen to me; as they
will be at liberty to read me or not as they please. In fine--and I
may as well avow it, since nobody would believe me were I to deny
it--I shall perhaps, by this employment, gratify my vanity. Scarcely
indeed have I ever read or heard the introductory phrase, "_I may
say without vanity_," but some striking and characteristic instance
of vanity has immediately followed. The generality of men hate
vanity in others, however strongly they may be tinctured with it
themselves: for myself, I pay obeisance to it wherever I meet with
it, persuaded that it is advantageous, as well to the individual whom
it governs, as to those who are within the sphere of its influence.
Of consequence, it would in many cases, not be wholly absurd, that a
man should count his vanity among the other sweets of life, and give
thanks to providence for the blessing.
And here let me with all humility acknowledge, that to divine
providence I am indebted for the felicity I have hitherto enjoyed.
It is that power alone which has furnished me with the means I
have employed, and that has crowned them with success. My faith in
this respect leads me to hope, though I cannot count upon it, that
the divine goodness will still be exercised towards me, either by
prolonging the duration of my happiness to the close of life, or by
giving me fortitude to support any melancholy reverse, which may
happen to me, as to so many others. My future fortune is unknown
but to Him in whose hand is our destiny, and who can make our very
afflictions subservient to our benefit.
One of my uncles, desirous, like myself, of collecting anecdotes
of our family, gave me some notes, from which I have derived many
particulars respecting our ancestors. From these I learn, that
they had lived in the same village (Eaton in Northamptonshire,)
upon a freehold of about thirty acres, for the space at least of
three hundred years. How long they had resided there prior to that
period, my uncle had been unable to discover; probably ever since
the institution of surnames, when they took the appellation of
Franklin, which had formerly been the name of a particular order of
individuals.[1]
This petty estate would not have sufficed for their subsistence, had
they not added the trade of blacksmith, which was perpetuated in the
family down to my uncle's time, the eldest son having been uniformly
brought up to this employment: a custom which both he and my father
observed with respect to their eldest sons.
In the researches I made at Eaton, I found no account of their
births, marriages, and deaths, earlier than the year 1555; the
parish register not extending farther back than that period. This
register informed me, that I was the youngest son of the youngest
branch of the family, counting five generations. My grandfather,
Thomas, who was born in 1598, lived at Eaton till he was too old to
continue his trade, when he retired to Banbury in Oxfordshire, where
his son John, who was a dyer, resided, and with whom my father was
apprenticed. He died, and was buried there: we saw his monument in
1758. His eldest son lived in the family house at Eaton, which he
bequeathed, with the land belonging to it, to his only daughter; who,
in concert with her husband, Mr. Fisher of Wellingborough, afterwards
sold it to Mr. Estead, the present proprietor.
My grandfather had four surviving sons, Thomas, John, Benjamin, and
Josias. I shall give you such particulars of them as my memory will
furnish, not having my papers here, in which you will find a more
minute account, if they are not lost during my absence.
Thomas had learned the trade of a blacksmith under his father; but
possessing a good natural understanding, he improved it by study,
at the solicitation of a gentleman of the name of Palmer, who was
at that time the principal inhabitant of the village, and who
encouraged, in like manner, all my uncles to cultivate their minds.
Thomas thus rendered himself competent to the functions of a country
attorney; soon became an essential personage in the affairs of the
village; and was one of the chief movers of every public enterprise,
as well relative to the county as the town of Northampton. A variety
of remarkable incidents were told us of him at Eaton. After enjoying
the esteem and patronage of Lord Halifax, he died, January 6, 1702,
precisely four years before I was born. The recital that was made
us of his life and character, by some aged persons of the village,
struck you, I remember, as extraordinary, from its analogy to what
you knew of myself. "Had he died," said you, "just four years later,
one might have supposed a transmigration of souls."
John, to the best of my belief, was brought up to the trade of a
wool-dyer.
Benjamin served his apprenticeship in London to a silk-dyer. He was
an industrious man: I remember him well; for, while I was a child,
he joined my father at Boston, and lived for some years in the house
with us. A particular affection had always subsisted between my
father and him; and I was his godson. He arrived to a great age. He
left behind him two quarto volumes of poems in manuscript, consisting
of little fugitive pieces addressed to his friends. He had invented
a short-hand, which he taught me, but having never made use of it,
I have now forgotten it. He was a man of piety, and a constant
attendant on the best preachers, whose sermons he took a pleasure in
writing down according, to the expeditory method he had devised. Many
volumes were thus collected by him. He was also extremely fond of
politics, too much so, perhaps, for his situation. I lately found in
London a collection which he had made of all the principal pamphlets
relative to public affairs, from the year 1641 to 1717. Many volumes
are wanting, as appears by the series of numbers; but there still
remain eight in folio, and twenty-four in quarto and octavo. The
collection had fallen into the hands of a second-hand bookseller,
who, knowing me by having sold me some books, brought it to me. My
uncle, it seems, had left it behind him on his departure for America,
about fifty years ago. I found various notes of his writing in the
margins. His grandson, Samuel, is now living at Boston.
Our humble family had early embraced the Reformation. They remained
faithfully attached during the reign of Queen Mary, when they were
in danger of being molested on account of their zeal against popery.
They had an English bible, and, to conceal it the more securely,
they conceived the project of fastening it, open, with pack-threads
across the leaves, on the inside of the lid of the close-stool. When
my great-grandfather wished to read to his family, he reversed the
lid of the close-stool upon his knees, and passed the leaves from one
side to the other, which were held down on each by the pack-thread.
One of the children was stationed at the door, to give notice if
he saw the proctor (an officer of the spiritual court) make his
appearance: in that case, the lid was restored to its place, with the
Bible concealed under it as before. I had this anecdote from my uncle
Benjamin.
The whole family preserved its attachment to the Church of England
till towards the close of the reign of Charles II. when certain
ministers, who had been ejected as nonconformists, having held
conventicles in Northamptonshire, they were joined by Benjamin and
Josias, who adhered to them ever after. The rest of the family
continued in the episcopal church.
My father, Josias, married early in life. He went, with his wife and
three children, to New England, about the year 1682. Conventicles
being at that time prohibited by law, and frequently disturbed,
some considerable persons of his acquaintance determined to go
to America, where they hoped to enjoy the free exercise of their
religion, and my father was prevailed on to accompany them.
My father had also by the same wife, four children born in America,
and ten others by a second wife, making in all seventeen. I remember
to have seen thirteen seated together at his table, who all arrived
to years of maturity, and were married. I was the last of the sons,
and the youngest child, excepting two daughters. I was born at
Boston in New England. My mother, the second wife, was Abiah Folger,
daughter of Peter Folger, one of the first colonists of New England,
of whom Cotton Mather makes honourable mention, in his Ecclesiastical
History of that province, as "_a pious and learned Englishman_," if
I rightly recollect his expressions. I have been told of his having
written a variety of little pieces; but there appears to be only one
in print, which I met with many years ago. It was published in the
year 1675, and is in familiar verse, agreeably to the taste of the
times and the country. The author addresses himself to the governors
for the time being, speaks for liberty of conscience, and in favour
of the anabaptists, quakers, and other sectaries, who had suffered
persecution. To this persecution he attributes the war with the
natives, and other calamities which afflicted the country, regarding
them as the judgments of God in punishment of so odious an offence,
and he exhorts the government to the repeal of laws so contrary to
charity. The poem appeared to be written with a manly freedom and a
pleasing simplicity. I recollect the six concluding lines, though
I have forgotten the order of words of the two first; the sense of
which was, that his censures were dictated by benevolence, and that,
of consequence, he wished to be known as the author; because, said
he, I hate from my very soul dissimulation:
From Sherburn,[2] where I dwell,
I therefore put my name,
Your friend, who means you well,
PETER FOLGER.
My brothers were all put apprentices to different trades. With
respect to myself, I was sent, at the age of eight years, to a
grammar-school. My father destined me for the church, and already
regarded me as the chaplain of the family. The promptitude with which
from my infancy I had learned to read, for I do not remember to have
been ever without this acquirement, and the encouragement of his
friends, who assured him that I should one day certainly become a man
of letters, confirmed him in this design. My uncle Benjamin approved
also of the scheme, and promised to give me all his volumes of
sermons, written, as I have said, in the short-hand of his invention,
if I would take the pains to learn it.
I remained, however, scarcely a year at the grammar-school, although,
in this short interval, I had risen from the middle to the head of my
class, from thence to the class immediately above, and was to pass,
at the end of the year, to the one next in order. But my father,
burdened with a numerous family, found that he was incapable, without
subjecting himself to difficulties, of providing for the expences
of a collegiate education; and considering besides, as I heard
him say to his friends, that persons so educated were often poorly
provided for, he renounced his first intentions, took me from the
grammar-school, and sent me to a school for writing and arithmetic,
kept by a Mr. George Brownwell, who was a skilful master, and
succeeded very well in his profession by employing gentle means only,
and such as were calculated to encourage his scholars. Under him I
soon acquired an excellent hand; but I failed in arithmetic, and made
therein no sort of progress.
At ten years of age, I was called home to assist my father in his
occupation, which was that of a soap-boiler and tallow-chandler;
a business to which he had served no apprenticeship, but which he
embraced on his arrival in New England, because he found his own,
that of dyer, in too little request to enable him to maintain his
family, I was accordingly employed in cutting the wicks, filling the
moulds, taking care of the shop, carrying messages, &c.
This business displeased me, and I felt a strong inclination for a
sea life; but my father set his face against it. The vicinity of the
water, however, gave me frequent opportunities, of venturing myself
both upon and within it, and I soon acquired the art of swimming, and
of managing a boat. When embarked with other children, the helm was
commonly deputed to me, particularly on difficult occasions; and, in
every other project, I was almost always the leader of the troop,
whom I sometimes involved in embarrassments. I shall give an instance
of this, which demonstrates an early disposition of mind for public
enterprises, though the one in question was not conducted by justice.
The mill-pond was terminated on one side by a marsh, upon the borders
of which we were accustomed to take our stand, at high water, to
angle for small fish. By dint of walking, we had converted the place
into a perfect quagmire. My proposal was to erect a wharf that
should afford us firm footing; and I pointed out to my companions
a large heap of stones, intended for the building a new house near
the marsh, and which were well adapted for our purpose. Accordingly,
when the workmen retired in the evening, I assembled a number of my
play-fellows, and by labouring diligently, like ants, sometimes four
of us uniting our strength to carry a single stone, we removed them
all, and constructed our little quay. The workmen were surprised the
next morning at not finding their stones; which had been conveyed
to our wharf. Enquiries were made respecting the authors of this
conveyance; we were discovered; complaints were exhibited against us;
and many of us underwent correction on the part of our parents; and
though I strenuously defended the utility of the work, my father at
length convinced me, that nothing which was not strictly honest could
be useful.
It will not, perhaps, be uninteresting to you to know what a sort of
man my father was. He had an excellent constitution, was of a middle
size, but well made and strong, and extremely active in whatever he
undertook. He designed with a degree of neatness, and knew a little
of music. His voice was sonorous and agreeable; so that when he sung
a psalm or hymn, with the accompaniment of his violin, as was his
frequent practice in an evening, when the labours of the day were
finished, it was truly delightful to hear him. He was versed also in
mechanics, and could, upon occasion, use the tools of a variety of
trades. But his greatest excellence was a sound understanding and
solid judgment, in matters of prudence, both in public and private
life. In the former, indeed, he never engaged, because his numerous
family, and the mediocrity of his fortune, kept him unremittingly
employed in the duties of his profession. But I well remember,
that the leading men of the place used frequently to come and ask
his advice respecting the affairs of the town, or of the church to
which he belonged, and that they paid much deference to his opinion.
Individuals were also in the habit of consulting him in their private
affairs, and he was often chosen arbiter between contending parties.
He was fond of having at his table, as often as possible,
some friends or well-informed neighbours, capable of rational
conversation, and he was always careful to introduce useful or
ingenious topics of discourse, which might tend to form the minds
of his children. By this means he early attracted our attention
to what was just, prudent, and beneficial in the conduct of life.
He never talked of the meats which appeared upon the table, never
discussed whether they were well or ill dressed, of a good or bad
flavour, high-seasoned or otherwise, preferable or inferior to this
or that dish of a similar kind. Thus accustomed, from my infancy, to
the utmost inattention as to these objects, I have been perfectly
regardless of what kind of food was before me; and I pay so little
attention to it even now, that it would be a hard matter for me
to recollect, a few hours after I had dined, of what my dinner
had consisted. When travelling, I have particularly experienced
the advantage of this habit; for it has often happened to me to
be in company with persons, who, having a more delicate, because
a more exercised taste, have suffered in many cases considerable
inconvenience; while, as to myself, I have had nothing to desire.
My mother was likewise possessed of an excellent constitution. She
suckled all her ten children, and I never heard either her or my
father complain of any other disorder than that of which they died:
my father at the age of eighty-seven, and my mother at eighty-five.
They are buried together at Boston, where, a few years ago, I placed
a marble over their grave, with this inscription:
"Here lie
JOSIAS FRANKLIN and ABIAH his wife: They lived together with reciprocal
affection for fifty-nine years; and without private fortune,
without lucrative employment, by assiduous labour and honest industry,
decently supported a numerous family, and educated with success,
thirteen children, and seven grand children. Let this example, reader,
encourage thee diligently to discharge the duties of thy calling, and to
rely on the support of divine providence,
He was pious and prudent,
She discreet and virtuous.
Their youngest son, from a sentiment of filial duty, consecrates
this stone
to their memory."
I perceive, by my rambling digressions, that I am growing old. But
we do not dress for a private company as for a formal ball. This
deserves, perhaps, the name of negligence.
To return. I thus continued employed in my father's trade for
the space of two years; that is to say, till I arrived at twelve
years of age. About this time my brother John, who had served his
apprenticeship in London, having quitted my father, and being
married and settled in business on his own account at Rhode Island,
I was destined, to all appearance to supply his place, and be
a candle-maker all my life: but my dislike of this occupation
continuing, my father was apprehensive, that, if a more, agreeable
one were not offered me, I might play the truant and escape to
sea; as, to his extreme mortification, my brother Josias had done.
He therefore took me sometimes to see masons, coopers, braziers,
joiners, and other mechanics, employed at their work; in order to
discover the bent of my inclination, and fix it if he could upon
some occupation that might retain me on shore. I have since, in
consequence of these visits, derived no small pleasure from seeing
skilful workmen handle their tools; and it has proved of considerable
benefit to have acquired thereby sufficient knowledge to be able
to make little things for myself, when I have had no mechanic at
hand, and to construct small machines for my experiments, while the
idea I have conceived has been fresh and strongly impressed on my
imagination.
My father at length decided that I should be a cutler, and I was
placed for some days upon trial with my cousin Samuel, son of my
uncle Benjamin, who had learned this trade in London, and had
established himself at Boston. But the premium he required for my
apprenticeship displeasing my father, I was recalled home.
From my earliest years I had been passionately fond of reading, and I
laid out in books all the money I could procure. I was particularly
pleased with accounts of voyages. My first acquisition was Bunyan's
works in small separate volumes. These I afterwards sold in order
to buy an historical collection by R. Burton, which consisted of
small cheap volumes, amounting in all to about forty or fifty. My
father's little library was principally made up of books of practical
and polemical theology. I read the greatest part of them. I have
since often regretted that at a time when I had so great a thirst
for knowledge, more eligible books had not fallen into my hands, as
it was then a point decided that I should not be educated for the
church. There was also among my father's books, Plutarch's Lives,
in which I read continually, and I still regard as advantageously
employed the time devoted to them. I found besides a work of De
Foe's, entitled an Essay on Projects, from which, perhaps, I derived
impressions that have since influenced some of the principal events
of my life.
My inclination for books at last determined my father to make me
a printer, though he had already a son in that profession. My
brother had returned from England in 1717, with a press and types,
in order to establish a printing-house at Boston. This business
pleased me much better than that of my father, though I had still a
predilection for the sea. To prevent the effects which might result
from this inclination, my father was impatient to see me engaged
with my brother. I held back for some time; at length, however, I
suffered myself to be persuaded, and signed my indentures, being then
only twelve years of age. It was agreed that I should serve as an
apprentice to the age of twenty-one, and should receive journeyman's
wages only during the last year.
In a very short time I made great proficiency in this business, and
became very serviceable to my brother. I had now an opportunity of
procuring better books. The acquaintance I necessarily formed with
booksellers' apprentices, enabled me to borrow a volume now and then,
which I never failed to return punctually and without injury. How
often has it happened to me to pass the greater part of the night
in reading by my bed-side, when the book had been lent me in the
evening, and was to be returned the next morning, lest it might be
missed or wanted!
At length, Mr. Matthew Adams, an ingenious tradesman, who had a
handsome collection of books, and who frequented our printing-house,
took notice of me. He invited me to see his library, and had the
goodness to lend me any books I was desirous of reading. I then took
a strange fancy for poetry, and composed several little pieces. My
brother, thinking he might find his account in it, encouraged me, and
engaged me to write two ballads. One, called the Light-house Tragedy,
contained an account of the shipwreck of captain Worthilake and his
two daughters; the other was a sailor's song on the capture of the
noted pirate called _Teach_, or _Blackbeard_. They were wretched
verses in point of style, mere blind-men's ditties. When printed, he
dispatched me about the town to sell them. The first had a prodigious
run, because the event was recent, and had made a great noise.
My vanity was flattered by this success; but my father checked my
exultation, by ridiculing my productions, and telling me that
versifiers were always poor. I thus escaped the misfortune of being
a very wretched poet. But as the faculty of writing prose has been
of great service to me in the course of my life, and principally
contributed to my advancement, I shall relate by what means, situated
as I was, I acquired the small skill I may possess in that way.
There was in the town another young man, a great lover of books,
of the name of John Collins, with whom I was intimately connected.
We frequently engaged in dispute, and were indeed so fond of
argumentation, that nothing was so agreeable to us as a war of words.
This contentious temper, I would observe by the bye, is in danger of
becoming a very bad habit; and frequently renders a man's company
insupportable, as being no otherwise capable of indulgence than by
an indiscriminate contradiction. Independently of the acrimony and
discord it introduces into conversation, it is often productive of
dislike, and even hatred, between persons to whom friendship is
indispensibly necessary. I acquired it by reading, while I lived with
my father, books of religious controversy. I have since remarked,
that men of sense seldom fall into this error: lawyers, fellows of
universities, and persons of every profession educated at Edinburgh,
excepted.
Collins and I fell one day into an argument, relative to the
education of women; namely, whether it was proper to instruct them in
the sciences, and whether they were competent to the study. Collins
supported the negative, and affirmed that the task was beyond their
capacity. I maintained the opposite opinion, a little perhaps for
the pleasure of disputing. He was naturally more eloquent than I;
words flowed copiously from his lips; and frequently I thought
myself vanquished, more by his volubility than by the force of his
arguments. We separated without coming to an agreement upon this
point, and as we were not to see each other again for some time, I
committed my thoughts to paper, made a fair copy, and sent it him.
He answered, and I replied. Three or four letters had been written
by each, when my father chanced to light upon my papers and read
them. Without entering into the merits of the cause, he embraced the
opportunity of speaking to me upon my manner of writing. He observed,
that though I had the advantage of my adversary in correct spelling
and pointing, which I owed to my occupation, I was greatly his
inferior in elegance of expression, in arrangement, and perspicuity.
Of this he convinced me by several examples. I felt the justice of
his remarks, became more attentive to language, and resolved to make
every effort to improve my style.
Amidst these resolves an odd volume of the Spectator fell into my
hands. This was a publication I had never seen. I bought the volume,
and read it again and again. I was enchanted with it, thought the
style excellent, and wished it were in my power to imitate it. With
this view I selected some of the papers, made short summaries of the
sense of each period, and put them for a few days aside. I then,
without looking at the book, endeavoured to restore the essays to
their due form, and to express each thought at length, as it was in
the original, employing the most appropriate words that occurred to
my mind. I afterwards compared my Spectator with the original; I
perceived some faults, which I corrected: but I found that I wanted
a fund of words, if I may so express myself, and a facility of
recollecting and employing them, which I thought I should by that
time have acquired, had I continued to make verses. The continual
need of words of the same meaning, but of different lengths for the
measure, or of different sounds for the rhyme, would have obliged me
to seek for a variety of synonymes, and have rendered me master of
them. From this belief, I took some of the tales of the Spectator and
turned them into verse; and after a time, when I had sufficiently
forgotten them, I again converted them into prose.
Sometimes also I mingled all my summaries together; and a few weeks
after, endeavoured to arrange them in the best order, before I
attempted to form the periods and complete the essays. This I did
with a view of acquiring method in the arrangement of my thoughts.
On comparing afterwards my performance with the original, many
faults were apparent, which I corrected; but I had sometimes the
satisfaction to think, that, in certain particulars of little
importance, I had been fortunate enough to improve the order of
thought or the style; and this encouraged me to hope that I should
succeed, in time, in writing decently in the English language, which
was one of the great objects of my ambition.
The time which I devoted to these exercises, and to reading, was
the evening after my day's labour was finished, the morning before
it began, and Sundays when I could escape attending divine service.
While I lived with my father, he had insisted on my punctual
attendance on public worship, and I still indeed considered it as a
duty, but a duty which I thought I had no time to practise.
When about sixteen years of age, a work of Tyron's fell into my
hands, in which he recommends vegetable diet. I determined to observe
it. My brother being a bachelor, did not keep house, but boarded
with his apprentices in a neighbouring family. My refusing to eat
animal food was found inconvenient, and I was often scolded for my
singularity. I attended to the mode in which Tryon prepared some of
his dishes, particularly how to boil potatoes and rice, and make
hasty puddings. I then said to my brother, that if he would allow
me per week half what he paid for my board, I would undertake to
maintain myself. The offer was instantly embraced, and I soon found
that of what he gave me, I was able to save half. This was a new fund
for the purchase of books; and other advantages resulted to me from
the plan. When my brother and his workmen left the printing-house
to go to dinner, I remained behind; and dispatching my frugal meal,
which frequently consisted of a biscuit only, or a slice of bread and
a bunch of raisins, or a bun from the pastry-cook's, with a glass of
water, I had the rest of the time, till their return, for study; and
my progress therein was proportioned to that clearness of ideas, and
quickness of conception, which are the fruit of temperance in eating
and drinking.
It was about this period, that having one day been put to the blush
for my ignorance in the art of calculation, which I had twice failed
to learn while at school, I took Cocker's Treatise of Arithmetic, and
went through it by myself with the utmost ease. I also read a book of
navigation by Seller and Sturmy, and made myself master of the little
geometry it contains, but I never proceeded far in this science.
Nearly at the same time I read Locke on the Human Understanding, and
the Art of Thinking, by Messrs. du Port Royal.
While labouring to form and improve my style, I met with an English
Grammar, which I believe was Greenwood's, having at the end of it
two little essays on rhetoric and logic. In the latter I found a
model of disputation, after the manner of Socrates. Shortly after I
procured Xenophon's work, entitled Memorable Things of Socrates, in
which are various examples of the same method. Charmed to a degree of
enthusiasm with this mode of disputing, I adopted it, and renouncing
blunt contradiction, and direct and positive argument, I assumed
the character of an humble questioner. The perusal of Shaftsbury
and Collins had made me a sceptic; and being previously so as to
many doctrines of Christianity, I found Socrates's method to be
both safest for myself, as well as the most embarrassing to those
against whom I employed it. It soon afforded me singular pleasure; I
incessantly practised it; and became very adroit in obtaining, even
from persons of superior understanding, concessions of which they did
not foresee the consequence. Thus I involved them in difficulties
from which they were unable to extricate themselves, and sometimes
obtained victories, which neither my cause nor my arguments merited.
This method I continued to employ for some years; but I afterwards
abandoned it by degrees, retaining only the habit of expressing
myself with modest diffidence, and never making use, when I
advanced any proposition which might be controverted, of the words
_certainly_, _undoubtedly_, or any others that might give the
appearance of being obstinately attached to my opinion. I rather
said, I imagine, I suppose, or it appears to me, that such a thing
is so or so, for such and such reasons; or it is so, if I am not
mistaken. This habit has, I think, been of considerable advantage
to me, when I have had occasion to impress my opinion on the minds
of others, and persuade them to the adoption of the measures I have
suggested. And since the chief ends of conversation are, to inform or
be informed, to please or to persuade, I could wish that intelligent
or well-meaning men would not themselves diminish the power they
possess of being useful, by a positive and presumptuous manner of
expressing themselves, which scarcely ever fails to disgust the
hearer, and is only calculated to excite opposition, and defeat every
purpose for which the faculty of speech has been bestowed on man. In
short, if you wish to inform, a positive and dogmatical manner of
advancing your opinion may provoke contradiction, and prevent your
being heard with attention. On the other hand, if, with a desire of
being informed, and of benefiting by the knowledge of others, you
express yourselves as being strongly attached to your own opinions,
modest and sensible men, who do not love disputation, will leave you
in tranquil possession of your errors. By following such a method,
you can rarely hope to please your auditors, conciliate their
good-will, or work conviction on those whom you may be desirous of
gaining over to your views. Pope judiciously observes,
Men must be taught, as if you taught them not,
And things unknown propos'd--as things forgot.
And in the same poem he afterwards advises us
To speak, though sure, with seeming diffidence.
He might have added to these lines, one that he has coupled
elsewhere, in my opinion, with less propriety. It is this:
For want of modesty is want of sense.
If you ask why I say with _less propriety_, I must give you the two
lines together:
Immodest words admit of _no defence_,
For want of decency is want of sense.
Now want of sense, when a man has the misfortune to be so
circumstanced, is it not a kind of excuse for want of modesty?
And would not the verses have been more accurate if they had been
constructed thus:
Immodest words admit _but this defence_,
That want of decency is want of sense.
But I leave the decision of this to better judges than myself.
In 1720, or 1721, my brother began to print a new public paper. It
was the second that made its appearance in America, and was entitled,
"The New England Courant." The only one that existed before was the
"Boston News Letter." Some of his friends, I remember, would have
dissuaded him from this undertaking, as a thing that was not likely
to succeed; a single newspaper being, in their opinion, sufficient
for all America. At present, however, in 1771, there are no less than
twenty-five. But he carried his project into execution, and I was
employed in distributing the copies to his customers, after having
assisted in composing and working them off.
Among his friends he had a number of literary characters, who,
as an amusement, wrote short essays for the paper, which gave it
reputation and increased the sale. These gentlemen frequently came
to our house. I heard the conversation that passed, and the accounts
they gave of the favourable reception of their writings with the
public. I was tempted to try my hand among them; but, being still a
child as it were, I was fearful that my brother might be unwilling
to print in his paper any performance of which he should know me to
be the author. I therefore contrived to disguise my hand, and having
written an anonymous piece, I placed it at night under the door of
the printing-house, where it was found the next morning. My brother
communicated it to his friends, when they came as usual to see him,
who read it, commented upon it within my hearing, and I had the
exquisite pleasure to find that it met with their approbation, and
that in the various conjectures they made respecting the author, no
one was mentioned who did not enjoy a high reputation in the country
for talents and genius. I now supposed myself fortunate in my judges,
and began to suspect that they were not such excellent writers as I
had hitherto supposed them. Be this as it may, encouraged by this
little adventure, I wrote, and sent to press in the same way, many
other pieces, which were equally approved: keeping the secret till my
slender stock of information and knowledge for such performances was
pretty completely exhausted, when I made myself known.
My brother, upon this discovery, began to entertain a little more
respect for me; but he still regarded himself as my master, and
treated me as an apprentice. He thought himself entitled to the same
services from me, as from any other person. On the contrary, I
conceived that in many instances, he was too rigorous, and that, on
the part of a brother, I had a right to expect greater indulgence.
Our disputes were frequently brought before my father; and either
my brother was generally wrong, or I was the better pleader of the
two, for judgment was commonly given in my favour. But my brother
was passionate, and often had recourse to blows--a circumstance
which I took in very ill part. This severe and tyrannical treatment
contributed, I believe, to imprint on my mind that aversion to
arbitrary power, which during my whole life I have ever preserved. My
apprenticeship became insupportable to me, and I continually sighed
for an opportunity of shortening it, which at length unexpectedly
offered.
An article inserted in our paper, upon some political subject which
I have now forgotten, gave offence to the assembly. My brother was
taken into custody, censured, and ordered into confinement for a
month, because, as I presume, he would not discover the author. I was
also taken up, and examined before the council; but though I gave
them no satisfaction, they contented themselves with reprimanding,
and then dismissed me; considering me probably as bound, in quality
of apprentice, to keep my master's secrets.
The imprisonment of my brother kindled my resentment, notwithstanding
our private quarrels. During its continuance, the management of the
paper was entrusted to me, and I was bold enough to insert some
pasquinades against the governors, which highly pleased my brother,
while others began to look upon me in an unfavourable point of view,
considering me as a young wit inclined to satire and lampoon.
My brother's enlargement was accompanied with an arbitrary order
from the house of the assembly, "That James Franklin should no
longer print the newspaper entitled 'The New England Courant.'"
In this conjuncture, we held a consultation of our friends at the
printing-house, in order to determine what was proper to be done.
Some proposed to evade the order, by changing the title of the paper:
but my brother, foreseeing inconveniences that would result from this
step, thought it better that it should be in future printed in the
name of Benjamin Franklin; and to avoid the censure of the assembly,
who might charge him with still printing the paper himself under
the name of his apprentice, it was resolved that my old indentures
should be given up to me, with a full and entire discharge written
on the back, in order to be produced upon an emergency; but that, to
secure to my brother the benefit of my service, I should sign a new
contract, which should be kept secret during the remainder of the
term. This was a very shallow arrangement. It was, however, carried
into immediate execution, and the paper continued, in consequence,
to make its appearance for some months in my name. At length a new
difference arising between my brother and me, I ventured to take
advantage of my liberty, presuming that he would not dare to produce
the new contract. It was undoubtedly dishonourable to avail myself
of this circumstance, and I reckon this action as one of the first
errors of my life; but I was little capable of estimating it at its
true value, embittered as my mind had been by the recollection of the
blows I had received. Exclusively of his passionate treatment of me,
my brother was by no means a man of an ill temper, and perhaps my
manners had too much impertinence not to afford it a very natural
pretext.
When he knew that it was my determination to quit him, he wished
to prevent my finding employment elsewhere. He went to all the
printing-houses in the town, and prejudiced the masters against
me--who accordingly refused to employ me. The idea then suggested
itself to me of going to New York, the nearest town in which there
was a printing-office. Farther reflection confirmed me in the design
of leaving Boston, where I had already rendered myself an object of
suspicion to the governing party. It was probable, from the arbitrary
proceedings of the assembly in the affair of my brother, that, by
remaining, I should soon have been exposed to difficulties, which I
had the greater reason to apprehend, as, from my indiscreet disputes
upon the subject of religion, I began to be regarded by pious souls
with horror, either as an apostate or an atheist. I came, therefore,
to a resolution: but my father, in this instance siding with my
brother, presumed that if I attempted to depart openly, measures
would be taken to prevent me. My friend Collins undertook to favour
my flight. He agreed for my passage with the captain of a New York
sloop, to whom he represented me as a young man of his acquaintance,
who had an affair with a girl of bad character, whose parents wished
to compel me to marry her, and that of consequence I could neither
make my appearance, nor go off publicly. I sold part of my books
to procure a small sum of money, and went privately on board the
sloop. By favour of a good wind, I found myself in three days at New
York, nearly three hundred miles from my home, at the age only of
seventeen years, without knowing an individual in the place, and
with very little money in my pocket.
The inclination I had felt for a sea-faring life had entirely
subsided, or I should now have been able to gratify it; but having
another trade, and believing myself to be a tolerable workman, I
hesitated not to offer my services to old Mr. William Bradford, who
had been the first printer in Pennsylvania, but had quitted that
province on account of a quarrel with George Keith, the governor.
He could not give me employment himself, having little to do, and
already as many persons as he wanted; but he told me that his son,
a printer at Philadelphia, had lately lost his principal workman,
Aquilla Rose, who was dead, and that if I would go thither, he
believed that he would engage me. Philadelphia was a hundred miles
farther. I hesitated not to embark in a boat in order to repair, by
the shortest cut of the sea, to Amboy, leaving my trunk and effects
to come after me by the usual and more tedious conveyance. In
crossing the bay we met with a squall, which shattered to pieces our
rotten sails, prevented us from entering the Kill, and threw us upon
Long Island.
During the squall, a drunken Dutchman, who like myself was a
passenger in the boat, fell into the sea. At the moment that he was
sinking, I seized him by the fore-top, saved him, and drew him on
board. This immersion sobered him a little, so that he fell asleep,
after having taken from his pocket a volume, which he requested me to
dry. This volume I found to be my old favourite Bunyan, in Dutch, a
beautiful impression on fine paper, with copper-plate engravings--a
dress in which I had never seen it in its original language. I
have since learned that it has been translated into almost all the
languages of Europe, and next to the Bible, I am persuaded, it is
one of the books which has had the greatest spread. Honest John is
the first, that I know of, who has mixed narrative and dialogue
together; a mode of writing very engaging to the reader, who in the
most interesting passages, finds himself admitted as it were into the
company, and present at the conversation. De Foe has imitated it with
success in his Robinson Crusoe, his Moll Flanders, and other works;
as also Richardson in his Pamela, &c.
In approaching the island, we found that we had made a part of the
coast where it was not possible to land, on account of the strong
breakers produced by the rocky shore. We cast anchor and veered the
cable towards the shore. Some men, who stood upon the brink, halloed
to us, while we did the same on our part; but the wind was so high,
and the waves so noisy, that we could neither of us hear each other.
There were some canoes upon the bank, and we called out to them, and
made signs to prevail on them to come and take us up; but either they
did not understand us, or they deemed our request impracticable, and
withdrew. Night came on, and nothing remained for us but to wait
quietly the subsiding of the wind; till when, we determined, that is,
the pilot and I, to sleep if possible. For that purpose we went below
the hatches along with the Dutchman, who was drenched with water. The
sea broke over the boat, and reached us in our retreat, so that we
were presently as completely drenched as he.
We had very little repose during the whole night: but the wind
abating the next day, we succeeded in reaching Amboy before it was
dark, after having passed thirty hours without provisions, and with
no other drink than a bottle of bad rum, the water upon which we
rowed being salt. In the evening I went to bed with a very violent
fever. I had somewhere read that cold water, drank plentifully, was a
remedy in such cases. I followed the prescription, was in a profuse
sweat for the greater part of the night, and the fever left me. The
next day I crossed the river in a ferryboat, and continued my journey
on foot. I had fifty miles to walk, in order to reach Burlington,
where I was told I should find passage-boats that would convey me to
Philadelphia. It rained hard the whole day, so that I was wet to the
skin. Finding myself fatigued about noon, I stopped at a paltry inn,
where I passed the rest of the day and the whole night, beginning
to regret that I had quitted my home. I made besides so wretched
a figure, that I was suspected to be some runaway servant. This I
discovered by the questions that were asked me; and I felt that I
was every moment in danger of being taken up as such. The next day,
however, I continued my journey, and arrived in the evening at an
inn, eight or ten miles from Burlington, that was kept by one Dr.
Brown.
This man entered into conversation with me while I took some
refreshment, and perceiving that I had read a little, he expressed
towards me considerable interest and friendship. Our acquaintance
continued during the remainder of his life. I believe him to have
been what is called an itinerant doctor; for there was no town in
England, or indeed in Europe, of which he could not give a particular
account. He was neither deficient in understanding or literature,
but he was a sad infidel; and, some years after, wickedly undertook
to travesty the Bible, in burlesque verse, as Cotton has travestied
Virgil. He exhibited, by this means, many facts in a very ludicrous
point of view, which would have given umbrage to weak minds, had his
work been published, which it never was.
I spent the night at his house, and reached Burlington the next
morning. On my arrival, I had the mortification to learn that
the ordinary passage-boats had sailed a little before. This was
on a Saturday, and there would be no other boat till the Tuesday
following. I returned to the house of an old woman in the town who
had sold me some gingerbread to eat on my passage, and I asked
her advice. She invited me to take up my abode with her till an
opportunity offered for me to embark. Fatigued with having travelled
so far on foot, I accepted her invitation. When she understood that
I was a printer, she would have persuaded me to stay at Burlington,
and set up my trade; but she was little aware of the capital that
would be necessary for such a purpose! I was treated while at her
house with true hospitality. She gave me with the utmost good-will,
a dinner of beef-steaks, and would accept of nothing in return but a
pint of ale.
Here I imagined myself to be fixed till the Tuesday in the ensuing
week; but walking out in the evening by the river side, I saw a
boat with a number of persons in it approach. It was going to
Philadelphia, and the company took me in. As there was no wind, we
could only make way with our oars. About midnight, not perceiving
the town, some of the company were of opinion that we must have
passed it, and were unwilling to row any farther; the rest not
knowing where we were, it was resolved that we should stop. We
drew towards the shore, entered a creek, and landed near some old
palisades, which served us for fire-wood, it being a cold night in
October. Here we stayed till day, when one of the company found
the place in which we were to be Cooper's creek, a little above
Philadelphia; which in reality we perceived the moment we were out of
the creek. We arrived on Sunday about eight or nine o'clock in the
morning, and landed on Market-street wharf.
I have entered into the particulars of my voyage, and shall in like
manner describe my first entrance into this city, that you may be
able to compare beginnings so little auspicious, with the figure I
have since made.
On my arrival at Philadelphia I was in my working dress, my best
cloaths being to come by sea. I was covered with dirt; my pockets
were filled with shirts and stockings; I was unacquainted with a
single soul in the place, and knew not where to seek for a lodging.
Fatigued with walking, rowing, and having passed the night without
sleep, I was extremely hungry, and all my money consisted of a
Dutch dollar, and about a shilling's worth of coppers, which I gave
to the boatmen for my passage. As I had assisted them in rowing,
they refused it at first; but I insisted on their taking it. A man
is sometimes more generous when he has little, than when he has
much money; probably because, in the first case, he is desirous of
concealing his poverty.
I walked towards the top of the street, looking eagerly on both
sides, till I came to Market-street, where I met a child with a
loaf of bread. Often had I made my dinner on dry bread. I enquired
where he had bought it, and went straight to the baker's shop which
he pointed out to me. I asked for some biscuits, expecting to find
such as we had at Boston; but they made, it seems, none of that sort
at Philadelphia. I then asked for a three-penny loaf; they made no
loaves of that price. Finding myself ignorant of the prices, as well
as of the different kinds of bread, I desired him to let me have
three penny-worth of bread of some kind or other. He gave me three
large rolls. I was surprised at receiving so much: I took them,
however, and having no room in my pockets, I walked on with a roll
under each arm, eating the third. In this manner I went through
Market-street to Fourth-street, and passed the house of Mr. Read, the
father of my future wife. She was standing at the door, observed me,
and thought with reason, that I made a very singular and grotesque
appearance.
I then turned the corner, and went through Chesnut-street, eating my
roll all the way; and having made this round, I found myself again on
Market-street wharf, near the boat in which I arrived. I stepped into
it to take a draught of the river water; and finding myself satisfied
with my first roll, I gave the other two to a woman and her child,
who had come down the river with us in the boat, and was waiting to
continue her journey. Thus refreshed, I regained the street, which
was now full of well-dressed people, all going the same way. I joined
them, and was thus led to a large Quaker's meeting-house near the
market-place. I sat down with the rest, and after looking round
me for some time, hearing nothing said, and being drowsy from my
last night's labour and want of rest, I fell into a sound sleep. In
this state I continued till the assembly dispersed, when one of the
congregation had the goodness to wake me. This was consequently the
first house I entered, or in which I slept, at Philadelphia.
I began again to walk along the street by the river side; and looking
attentively in the face of every one I met, I at length perceived a
young quaker whose countenance pleased me. I accosted him, and begged
him to inform me where a stranger might find a lodging. We were then
near the sign of the three Mariners. They receive travellers here,
said he, but it is not a house that bears a good character; if you
will go with me, I will shew you a better one. He conducted me to
the Crooked-billet, in Water-street. There I ordered something for
dinner, and during my meal a number of curious questions were put
to me; my youth and appearance exciting the suspicion of my being a
runaway. After dinner my drowsiness returned, and I threw myself upon
a bed without taking off my cloaths, and slept till six o'clock in
the evening, when I was called to supper. I afterwards went to bed at
a very early hour, and did not awake till the next morning.
As soon as I got up I put myself in as decent a trim as I could,
and went to the house of Andrew Bradford the printer. I found his
father in the shop, whom I had seen at New York. Having travelled
on horseback, he had arrived at Philadelphia before me. He
introduced me to his son, who received me with civility, and gave
me some breakfast; but told me he had no occasion at present for a
journeyman, having lately procured one. He added, that there was
another printer newly settled in the town, of the name of Keimer,
who might perhaps employ me; and that in case of refusal, I should be
welcome to lodge at his house, and he would give me a little work now
and then, till something better should offer.
The old man offered to introduce me to the new printer. When we were
at his house: "Neighbour," said he, "I bring you a young man in the
printing business; perhaps you may have need of his services."
Keimer asked me some questions, put a composing stick in my hand
to see how I could work, and then said, that at present he had
nothing for me to do, but that he should soon be able to employ me.
At the same time taking old Bradford for an inhabitant of the town
well-disposed towards him, he communicated his project to him, and
the prospect he had of success. Bradford was careful not to discover
that he was the father of the other printer; and from what Keimer
had said, that he hoped shortly to be in possession of the greater
part of the business of the town, led him by artful questions, and by
starting some difficulties, to disclose all his views, what his hopes
were founded upon, and how he intended to proceed. I was present, and
heard it all. I instantly saw that one of the two was a cunning old
fox, and the other a perfect novice. Bradford left me with Keimer,
who was strangely surprised when I informed him who the old man was.
I found Keimer's printing materials to consist of an old damaged
press, and a small fount of worn-out English letters, with which
he himself was at work upon an elegy on Aquila Rose, whom I have
mentioned above, an ingenious young man, and of an excellent
character, highly esteemed in the town, secretary to the assembly,
and a very tolerable poet. Keimer also made verses, but they were
indifferent ones. He could not be said to write in verse, for his
method was to set the lines as they flowed from his muse; and as he
worked without copy, had but one set of letter-cases, and the elegy
would probably occupy all his types, it was impossible for any one
to assist him. I endeavoured to put his press in order, which he had
not yet used, and of which indeed he understood nothing: and having
promised to come and work off his elegy as soon as it should be
ready, I returned to the house of Bradford, who gave me some trifle
to do for the present, for which I had my board and lodging.
In a few days Keimer sent for me to print off his elegy. He had now
procured another set of letter-cases, and had a pamphlet to re-print,
upon which he set me to work.
The two Philadelphia printers appeared destitute of every
qualification necessary in their profession. Bradford had not
been brought up to it, and was very illiterate. Keimer, though
he understood a little of the business, was merely a compositor,
and wholly incapable of working at the press. He had been one of
the French prophets; and knew how to imitate their supernatural
agitations. At the time of our first acquaintance he professed no
particular religion, but a little of all upon occasion. He was
totally ignorant of the world, and a great knave at heart, as I had
afterwards, an opportunity of experiencing.
Keimer could not endure that, working with him, I should lodge at
Bradford's. He had indeed a house, but it was unfurnished; so that
he could not take me in. He procured me a lodging at Mr. Read's, his
landlord, whom I have already mentioned. My trunk and effects being
now arrived, I thought of making, in the eyes of Miss Read, a more
respectable appearance than when chance exhibited me to her view,
eating my roll, and wandering in the streets.
From this period I began to contract acquaintance with such young
people of the town as were fond of reading, and spent my evenings
with them agreeably, while at the same time I gained money by my
industry, and, thanks to my frugality, lived contented. I thus forgot
Boston as much as possible, and wished every one to be ignorant of
the place of my residence, except my friend Collins, to whom I wrote,
and who kept my secret.
An incident however arrived, which sent me home much sooner than
I had proposed. I had a brother-in-law, of the name of Robert
Holmes, master of a trading sloop from Boston to Delaware. Being at
Newcastle, forty miles below Philadelphia, he heard of me, and wrote
to inform me of the chagrin which my sudden departure from Boston
had occasioned my parents, and of the affection which they still
entertained for me, assuring me that, if I would return, every thing
should be adjusted to my satisfaction; and he was very pressing in
his entreaties. I answered his letter, thanked him for his advice,
and explained the reasons which had induced me to quit Boston, with
such force and clearness, that he was convinced I had been less to
blame than he had imagined.
Sir William Keith, governor of the province, was at Newcastle at
the time. Captain Holmes, being by chance in his company when he
received my letter, took occasion to speak of me, and showed it him.
The governor read it, and appeared surprised when he learned my age.
He thought me, he said, a young man of very promising talents, and
that, of consequence, I ought to be encouraged; that there were at
Philadelphia none but very ignorant printers, and that if I were to
set up for myself, he had no doubt of my success; that, for his own
part, he would procure me all the public business, and would render
me every other service in his power. My brother-in-law related all
this to me afterwards at Boston; but I knew nothing of it at the
time; when one day Keimer and I being at work together near the
window, we saw the governor and another gentleman, colonel French, of
Newcastle, handsomely dressed, cross the street, and make directly
for our house. We heard them at the door, and Keimer believing it
to be a visit to himself, went immediately down: but the governor
enquired for me, came up stairs, and, with a condescension and
politeness to which I had not at all been accustomed, paid me many
compliments, desired to be acquainted with me, obligingly reproached
me for not having made myself known to him on my arrival in the town,
and wished me to accompany him to a tavern, where he and colonel
French were going to taste some excellent Madeira wine.
I was, I confess, somewhat surprised, and Keimer appeared
thunderstruck. I went, however, with the governor and the colonel to
a tavern at the corner of Third-street, where, while we were drinking
the Madeira, he proposed to me to establish a printing-house. He set
forth the probabilities of success, and himself, and colonel French
assured me that I should have their protection and influence in
obtaining the printing of the public papers of both governments; and
as I appeared to doubt whether my father would assist me in this
enterprize, Sir William said that he would give me a letter to him,
in which he would represent the advantages of the scheme, in a light
which he had no doubt would determine him. It was thus concluded that
I should return to Boston by the first vessel, with the letter of
recommendation, from the governor to my father. Meanwhile the project
was to be kept secret, and I continued to work for Keimer as before.
The governor sent every now and then to invite me to dine with him. I
considered this as a very great honour; and I was the more sensible
of it, as he conversed with me in the most affable, familiar, and
friendly manner imaginable.
Towards the end of April 1724, a small vessel was ready to sail for
Boston. I took leave of Keimer, upon the pretext of going to see my
parents. The governor gave me a long letter, in which he said many
flattering things of me to my father; and strongly recommended the
project of my settling at Philadelphia, as a thing which could not
fail to make my fortune.
Going down the bay we struck on a flat, and sprung a leak. The
weather was very tempestuous, and we were obliged to pump without
intermission; I took my turn. We arrived, however, safe and sound at
Boston, after about a fortnight's passage.
I had been absent about seven complete months, and my relations,
during that interval, had received no intelligence of me; for my
brother-in-law, Holmes, was not yet returned, and had not written
about me. My unexpected appearance surprized the family; but they
were all delighted at seeing me again, and, except my brother,
welcomed me home. I went to him at the printing-house. I was better
dressed than I had ever been while in his service: I had a complete
suit of clothes, new and neat, a watch in my pocket, and my purse was
furnished with nearly five pounds sterling in money. He gave me no
very civil reception; and having eyed me from head to foot, resumed
his work.
The workmen asked me with eagerness where I had been, what sort of a
country it was, and how I liked it. I spoke in the highest terms of
Philadelphia, the happy life we led there, and expressed my intention
of going back again. One of them asking what sort of money we had,
I displayed before them a handful of silver, which I drew from my
pocket. This was a curiosity to which they were not accustomed, paper
being the current money at Boston. I failed not after this to let
them see my watch; and at last, my brother continuing sullen and
out of humour, I gave them a shilling to drink, and took my leave.
This visit stung my brother to the soul; for when, shortly after, my
mother spoke to him of a reconciliation, and a desire to see us upon
good terms, he told her that I had so insulted him before his men,
that he would never forget or forgive it: in this, however, he was
mistaken.
The governor's letter appeared to excite in my father some surprize;
but he said little. After some days, captain Holmes being returned,
he showed it him, asking him if he knew Keith, and what sort of a
man he was: adding, that, in his opinion, it proved very little
discernment to think of setting up a boy in business, who for three
years to come would not be of an age to be ranked in the class of
men. Holmes said every thing he could in favour of the scheme; but my
father firmly maintained its absurdity, and at last gave a positive
refusal. He wrote, however, a civil letter to Sir William, thanking
him for the protection he had so obligingly offered me, but refusing
to assist me for the present, because he thought me too young to be
entrusted with the conduct of so important an enterprise, and which
would require so considerable a sum of money.
My old comrade Collins, who was a clerk in the post-office, charmed
with the account I gave of my new residence, expressed a desire of
going thither; and while I waited my father's determination, he set
off before me by land for Rhode Island, leaving his books, which
formed a handsome collection in mathematics and natural philosophy,
to be conveyed with mine to New York, where he purposed to wait for
me.
My father, though he could not approve Sir William's proposal, was
yet pleased that I had obtained so advantageous a recommendation as
that of a person of his rank, and that my industry and economy had
enabled me to equip myself so handsomely in so short a period. Seeing
no appearance of accommodating matters between my brother and me, he
consented to my return to Philadelphia, advised me to be civil to
every body, to endeavour to obtain general esteem, and avoid satire
and sarcasm, to which he thought I was too much inclined; adding,
that with perseverance and prudent economy, I might, by the time I
became of age, save enough to establish myself in business; and that
if a small sum should then be wanting, he would undertake to supply
it.
This was all I could obtain from him, except some trifling presents,
in token of friendship from him and my mother. I embarked once more
for New York, furnished at this time with their approbation and
blessing. The sloop having touched at Newport in Rhode Island, I
paid a visit to my brother John, who had for some years been settled
there, and was married. He had always been attached to me, and he
received me with great affection. One of his friends, whose name
was Vernon, having a debt of about thirty-six pounds due to him in
Pennsylvania, begged me to receive it for him, and to keep the money
till I should hear from him: accordingly he gave me an order for that
purpose. This affair occasioned me, in the sequel, much uneasiness.
At Newport we took on board a number of passengers; among whom
were two young women, and a grave and sensible quaker lady with
her servants. I had shown an obliging forwardness in rendering the
quaker some trifling services, which led her, probably, to feel an
interest in my welfare; for when she saw a familiarity take place,
and every day increase, between the two young women and me, she took
me aside and said: "Young man, I am in pain for thee. Thou hast no
parent to watch over thy conduct, and thou seemest to be ignorant of
the world, and the snares to which youth is exposed. Rely upon what
I tell thee: those are women of bad characters; I perceive it in
all their actions. If thou dost not take care, they will lead thee
into danger. They are strangers to thee, and I advise thee, by the
friendly interest I take in thy preservation, to form no connection
with them." As I appeared at first not to think quite so ill of them
as she did, she related many things she had seen and heard, which
had escaped my attention, but which convinced me that she was in the
right. I thanked her for her obliging advice, and promised to follow
it.
When we arrived at New York, they informed me where they lodged,
and invited me to come and see them. I did not however go, and it
was well I did not; for the next day, the captain missing a silver
spoon and some other things which had been taken from the cabin, and
knowing these women to be prostitutes, procured a search-warrant,
found the stolen goods upon them, and had them punished. And thus,
after having been saved from one rock concealed under water, upon
which the vessel struck during our passage, I escaped another of a
still more dangerous nature.
At New York I found my friend Collins, who had arrived some time
before. We had been intimate from our infancy, and had read the same
books together; but he had the advantage of being able to devote
more time to reading and study, and an astonishing disposition for
mathematics, in which he left me far behind him. When at Boston, I
had been accustomed to pass with him almost all my leisure hours. He
was then a sober and industrious lad; his knowledge had gained him a
very general esteem, and he seemed to promise to make an advantageous
figure in society. But, during my absence, he had unfortunately
addicted himself to brandy, and I learned, as well from himself as
from the report of others, that every day since his arrival at New
York he had been intoxicated, and had acted in a very extravagant
manner. He had also played, and lost all his money; so that I was
obliged to pay his expences at the inn, and to maintain him during
the rest of his journey; a burthen that was very inconvenient to me.
The governor of New York, whose name was Burnet, hearing the captain
say, that a young man who was a passenger in his ship had a great
number of books, begged him to bring me to his house. I accordingly
went, and should have taken Collins with me, had he been sober. The
governor treated me with great civility, shewed me his library,
which was a very considerable one, and we talked for some time upon
books and authors. This was the second governor who had honoured me
with his attention, and to a poor boy, as I was then, these little
adventures did not fail to be pleasing.
We arrived at Philadelphia. On the way I received Vernon's money,
without which we should have been unable to have finished our journey.
Collins wished to get employment as a merchant's clerk, but either
his breath or his countenance betrayed his bad habit; for, though he
had recommendations he met with no success, and continued to lodge
and eat with me, and at my expence. Knowing that I had Vernon's
money, he was continually asking me to lend him some of it, promising
to repay me as soon as he should get employment. At last he had drawn
so much of this money, that I was extremely alarmed at what might
become of me, should he fail to make good the deficiency. His habit
of drinking did not at all diminish, and was a frequent source of
discord between us; for when he had drank a little too much, he was
very head-strong.
Being one day in a boat together on the Delaware, with some other
young persons, he refused to take his turn in rowing. You shall row
for me, said he, till we get home.--No, I replied, we will not row
for you.--You shall, said he, or remain upon the water all night. As
you please.--Let us row, said the rest of the company; what signifies
whether he assists or not. But, already angry with him for his
conduct in other respects, I persisted in my refusal. He then swore
that he would make me row, or would throw me out of the boat; and he
made up to me. As soon as he was within my reach, I took him by the
collar, gave him a violent thrust, and threw him head foremost into
the river. I knew that he was a good swimmer, and was therefore under
no apprehensions for his life. Before he could turn himself, we were
able, by a few strokes of our oars, to place ourselves out of his
reach; and whenever he touched the boat, we asked him if he would row
striking his hands at the same time with the oars, to make him let go
his hold. He was nearly suffocated with rage, but obstinately refused
making any promise to row. Perceiving, at length, that his strength
began to be exhausted, we took him into the boat, and conveyed
him home in the evening completely drenched. The utmost coldness
subsisted between us after this adventure. At last the captain of
a West-India ship, who was commissioned to procure a tutor for the
children of a gentleman at Barbadoes, meeting with Collins, offered
him the place. He accepted it, and took his leave of me, promising to
discharge the debt he owed me with the first money he should receive;
but I have heard nothing of him since.
The violation of the trust reposed in me by Vernon, was one of the
first great errors of my life; and it proves that my father was not
mistaken when he supposed me too young to be intrusted with the
management of important affairs. But Sir William, upon reading his
letter, thought him too prudent. There was a difference, he said,
between individuals: years of maturity were not always accompanied
with discretion, neither was youth in every instance devoid of
it. Since your father, added he, will not set you up in business,
I will do it myself. Make out a list of what will be wanted from
England, and I will send for the articles. You shall repay me when
you can. I am determined to have a good printer here, and I am sure
you will succeed. This was said with so much seeming cordiality,
that I suspected not for an instant the sincerity of the offer. I
had hitherto kept the project, with which Sir William had inspired
me, of settling in business, a secret at Philadelphia, and I still
continued to do so. Had my reliance on the governor been known,
some friend better acquainted with his character than myself, would
doubtless have advised me not to trust him; for I afterwards learned
he was universally known to be liberal of promises, which he had no
intention to perform. But having never solicited him, how could I
suppose his offers to be deceitful?--On the contrary, I believed him
to be the best man in the world.
I gave him an inventory of a small printing-office, the expence
of which I had calculated at about a hundred pounds sterling. He
expressed his approbation; but asked, if my presence in England, that
I might choose the characters myself, and see that every article
was good in its kind, would not be an advantage? You will also be
able, said he, to form some acquaintance there, and establish a
correspondence with stationers and booksellers. This I acknowledged
was desirable. That being the case, added he, hold yourself in
readiness to go with the Annis. This was the annual vessel, and the
only one, at that time, which made regular voyages between the ports
of London and Philadelphia. But the Annis was not to sail for some
months. I therefore continued to work with Keimer, unhappy respecting
the sum which Collins had drawn from me, and almost in continual
agony at the thoughts of Vernon, who fortunately made no demand of
his money till several years after.
In the account of my first voyage from Boston to Philadelphia,
I omitted, I believe, a trifling circumstance, which will not,
perhaps, be out of place here. During a calm which stopped us above
Block Island, the crew employed themselves in fishing for cod, of
which they caught a great number. I had hitherto adhered to my
resolution of not eating any thing that had possessed life; and I
considered on this occasion, agreeably to the maxims of my master
Tryon, the capture of every fish as a sort of murder, committed
without provocation, since these animals had neither done, nor were
capable of doing the smallest injury to any one that should justify
the measure. This mode of reasoning I conceived to be unanswerable.
Meanwhile, I had formerly been extremely fond of fish; and when one
of these cod was taken out of the frying-pan, I thought its flavour
delicious. I hesitated some time between principle and inclination,
till at last recollecting, that when the cod had been opened, some
small fish were found in its belly, I said to myself, if you eat one
another, I see no reason why we may not eat you. I accordingly dined
on the cod with no small degree of pleasure, and have since continued
to eat like the rest of mankind, returning only occasionally to
my vegetable plan. How convenient does it prove to be a _rational
animal_, that knows how to find or invent a plausible pretext for
whatever it has an inclination to do!
I continued to live upon good terms with Keimer, who had not the
smallest suspicion of my projected establishment. He still retained
a portion of his former enthusiasm; and, being fond of argument, we
frequently disputed together. I was so much in the habit of using my
Socratic method, and had so frequently puzzled him by my questions,
which appeared at first very distant from the point in debate, yet
nevertheless led to it by degrees, involving him in difficulties and
contradictions from which he was unable to extricate himself, that he
became at last ridiculously cautious, and would scarcely answer the
most plain and familiar question without previously asking me--What
would you infer from that? Hence he formed so high an opinion of my
talents for refutation, that he seriously proposed to me to become
his colleague in the establishment of a new religious sect. He was to
propagate the doctrine by preaching, and I to refute every opponent.
When he explained to me his tenets, I found many absurdities which
I refused to admit, unless he would agree in turn to adopt some of
my opinions. Keimer wore his beard long, because Moses had somewhere
said, "Thou shalt not mar the corners of thy beard." He likewise
observed the Sabbath; and these were with him two very essential
points. I disliked them both: but I consented to adopt them,
provided he would agree to abstain from animal food. I doubt, said
he, whether my constitution will be able to support it. I assured
him on the contrary he would find himself the better for it. He was
naturally a glutton, and I wished to amuse myself by starving him. He
consented to make trial of this regimen, if I would bear him company;
and in reality we continued it for three months. A woman in the
neighbourhood prepared and brought us our victuals, to whom I gave a
list of forty dishes; in the composition of which there were entered
neither flesh nor fish. This fancy was the more agreeable to me as it
turned to good account; for the whole expence of our living did not
exceed for each eighteen pence a week.
I have since that period observed several Lents with the greatest
strictness, and have suddenly returned again to my ordinary diet,
without experiencing the smallest inconvenience; which has led me to
regard as of no importance the advice commonly given, of introducing
gradually such alterations of regimen.
I continued it cheerfully, but poor Keimer suffered terribly.
Tired of the project, he sighed for the fleshpots of Egypt. At
length he ordered a roast pig, and invited me and two of our female
acquaintance to dine with him; but the pig being ready a little too
soon, he could not resist the temptation, and eat it all up before we
arrived.
During the circumstances I have related, I had paid some attentions
to Miss Read. I entertained for her the utmost esteem and affection;
and I had reason to believe that these sentiments were mutual. But
we were both young, scarcely more than eighteen years of age; and
as I was on the point of undertaking a long voyage, her mother
thought it prudent to prevent matters being carried top far for the
present, judging that, if marriage was our object, there would be
more propriety in it after my return, when, as at least I expected, I
should be established in my business. Perhaps, also, she thought my
expectations were not so well founded as I imagined.
My most intimate acquaintance at this time were Charles Osborne,
Joseph Watson, and James Ralph: young men who were all fond of
reading. The two first were clerks to Mr. Charles Brockdon, one
of the principal attornies in the town, and the other clerk to a
merchant. Watson was an upright, pious, and sensible young man: the
others were somewhat more loose in their principles of religion,
particularly Ralph, whose faith, as well as that of Collins, I had
contributed to shake; each of whom made me suffer a very adequate
punishment. Osborne was sensible, and sincere and affectionate in
his friendships, but too much inclined to the critic in matters of
literature. Ralph was ingenious and shrewd, genteel in his address,
and extremely eloquent. I do not remember to have met with a more
agreeable speaker. They were both enamoured of the muses, and had
already evinced their passion by some small poetical productions.
It was a custom with us to take a charming walk on Sundays, in the
woods that border the Skuylkil. Here we read together, and afterwards
conversed on what we read. Ralph was disposed to give himself up
entirely to poetry. He flattered himself that he should arrive at
great eminence in the art, and even acquire a fortune. The sublimest
poets, he pretended, when they first began to write, committed as
many faults as himself. Osborne endeavoured to dissuade him, by
assuring him that he had no genius for poetry, and advised him to
stick to the trade in which he had been brought up. In the road of
commerce, said he, you will be sure, by diligence and assiduity,
though you have no capital, of so far succeeding as to be employed
as a factor; and may thus, in time, acquire the means of setting
up for yourself. I concurred in these sentiments, but at the same
time expressed my approbation of amusing ourselves sometimes with
poetry, with a view to improve our style. In consequence of this it
was proposed, that, at our next meeting, each of us should bring a
copy of verses of his own composition. Our object in this competition
was to benefit each other by our mutual remarks, criticisms, and
corrections; and as style and expression were all we had in view, we
excluded every idea of invention, by agreeing that our task should be
a version of the eighteenth psalm, in which is described the descent
of the Deity.
The time of our meeting drew near, when Ralph called upon me, and
told me that his performance was ready. I informed him that I had
been idle, and, not much liking the task, had done nothing. He shewed
me his piece, and asked me what I thought of it. I expressed myself
in terms of warm approbation; because it really appeared to have
considerable merit. He then said, Osborne will never acknowledge
the smallest degree of excellence in any production of mine. Envy
alone dictates to him a thousand animadversions. Of you he is not so
jealous: I wish, therefore, you would take the verses, and produce
them as your own. I will pretend not to have had leisure to write
any thing. We shall then see in what manner he will speak of them.
I agreed to this little artifice, and immediately transcribed the
verses to prevent all suspicion.
We met. Watson's performance was the first that was read; it had
some beauties, but many faults. We next read Osborne's, which was
much better. Ralph did it justice, remarking a few imperfections,
and applauding such parts as were excellent. He had himself nothing
to show. It was now my turn. I made some difficulty; seemed as if
I wished to be excused; pretended that I had had no time to make
corrections, &c. No excuse, however, was admissible, and, the piece
must be produced. It was read, and re-read. Watson and Osborne
immediately resigned the palm, and united in applauding it. Ralph
alone made a few remarks, and proposed some alterations; but I
defended my text. Osborne agreed with me, and told Ralph that he was
no more able to criticise than he was able to write.
When Osborne was alone with me, he expressed himself still more
strongly in favour of what he considered as my performance. He
pretended that he had put some restraint upon himself before,
apprehensive of my construing his commendation into flattery. But
who would have supposed, said he, Franklin to be capable of such a
composition? What painting--what energy--what fire! He has surpassed
the original. In his common conversation he appears not to have a
choice of words; he hesitates, and is at a loss--and yet, good God,
how he writes!
At our next meeting Ralph discovered the trick we had played Osborne,
who was rallied without mercy.
By this adventure Ralph was fixed in his determination of becoming a
poet. I left nothing unattempted to divert him from his purpose; but
he persevered, till at last the reading of Pope[3] effected his cure:
he became, however, a very tolerable prose-writer. I shall speak more
of him hereafter; but as I shall probably have no farther occasion
to mention the other two, I ought to observe here that Watson died a
few years after in my arms. He was greatly regretted, for he was the
best of our society. Osborne went to the islands, where he gained
considerable reputation as a barrister, and was getting money; but he
died young. We had seriously engaged, that whoever died first should
return (if possible) and pay a friendly visit to the survivor, to
give him an account of the other world--but he has never fulfilled
his engagement.
The governor appeared to be fond of my company, and frequently
invited me to his house. He always spoke of his intention of
settling me in business, as a point that was decided. I was to take
with me letters of recommendation to a number of his friends, and
particularly a letter of credit, in order to obtain the necessary sum
for the purchase of my press, types, and paper. He appointed various
times for me to come for these letters, which would certainly be
ready, and when I came, always put me off to another day.
These successive delays continued till the vessel, whose departure
had been several times deferred, was on the point of setting sail;
when I again went to Sir William's house, to receive my letters and
take leave of him. I saw his secretary, Dr. Bard, who told me that
the governor was extremely busy writing, but that he would be down at
Newcastle before the vessel, and that the letters would be delivered
to me there.
Ralph, though he was married and had a child, determined to accompany
me in this voyage. His object was supposed to be the establishing a
correspondence with some mercantile houses, in order to sell goods
by commission; but I afterwards learned that, having reason to be
dissatisfied with the parents of his wife, he proposed to himself to
leave her on their hands, and never return to America again.
Having taken leave of my friends, and interchanged promises of
fidelity with Miss Read, I quitted Philadelphia. At Newcastle the
vessel came to anchor. The governor was arrived, and I went to his
lodgings. His secretary received me with great civility, told me on
the part of the governor that he could not see me then, as he was
engaged in affairs of the utmost importance, but that he would send
the letters on board, and that he wished me, with all his heart, a
good voyage, and speedy return. I returned, somewhat astonished, to
the ship, but still without entertaining the slightest suspicion.
Mr. Hamilton, a celebrated barrister of Philadelphia, had taken a
passage to England for himself and his son, and, in conjunction with
Mr. Denham, a quaker, and Messrs. Oniam and Russel, proprietors of a
forge in Maryland, had agreed for the whole cabin, so that Ralph and
I were obliged to take up our lodging with the crew. Being unknown
to every body in the ship, we were looked upon as of the common
order of people: but Mr. Hamilton and his son, (it was James, who
was afterwards governor,) left us at Newcastle, and returned to
Philadelphia, where he was recalled at a very great expence, to plead
the cause of a vessel that had been seized; and just as we were about
to sail, colonel French came on board, and shewed me many civilities.
The passengers upon this paid me more attention, and I was invited,
together with my friend Ralph, to occupy the place in the cabin which
the return of the Mr. Hamiltons had made vacant; an offer which we
very readily accepted.
Having learned that the dispatches of the governor had been brought
on board by colonel French, I asked the captain for the letters that
were to be entrusted to my care. He told me that they were all put
together in the bag, which he could not open at present; but before
we reached England, he would give me an opportunity of taking them
out. I was satisfied with this answer, and we pursued our voyage.
The company in the cabin were all very sociable, and we were
perfectly well off as to provisions, as we had the advantage of the
whole of Mr. Hamilton's, who had laid in a very plentiful stock.
During the passage, Mr. Denham contracted a friendship for me, which
ended only with his life: in other respects the voyage was by no
means an agreeable one, as we had much bad weather.
When we arrived in the river, the captain was as good as his word,
and allowed me to search in the bag for the governor's letters. I
could not find a single one with my name written on it, as committed
to my care; but I selected six or seven, which I judged from the
direction to be those that were intended for me; particularly one to
Mr. Basket the king's printer, and another to a stationer, who was
the first person I called upon. I delivered him the letter as coming
from governor Keith. "I have no acquaintance (said he) with any such
person;" and opening the letter, "Oh, it is from Riddlesden!" he
exclaimed. "I have lately discovered him to be a very arrant knave,
and wish to have nothing to do either with him or his letters." He
instantly put the letter into my hand, turned upon his heel, and left
me, to serve some customers.
I was astonished at finding these letters were not from the governor.
Reflecting, and putting circumstances together, I then began to doubt
his sincerity. I rejoined my friend Denham, and related the whole
affair to him. He let me at once into Keith's character, told me
there was not the least probability of his having written a single
letter; that no one who knew him ever placed any reliance on him, and
laughed at my credulity in supposing that the governor would give me
a letter of credit, when he had no credit for himself. As I showed
some uneasiness respecting what step I should take, he advised me to
try to get employment in the house of some printer. You may there,
said he, improve yourself in business, and you will be able to settle
yourself the more advantageously when you return to America.
We knew already as well as the stationer, attorney Riddlesden to be
a knave. He had nearly ruined the father of Miss Read, by drawing
him in to be his security. We learned from his letter, that he was
secretly carrying on an intrigue, in concert with the governor, to
the prejudice of Mr. Hamilton, who it was supposed would by this
time be in Europe. Denham, who was Hamilton's friend, was of opinion
that he ought to be made acquainted with it; and in reality, the
instant he arrived in England, which was very soon after, I waited on
him, and, as much from good-will to him, as from resentment against
the governor, put the letter into his hands. He thanked me very
sincerely, the information it contained being of consequence to him;
and from that moment bestowed on me his friendship, which afterwards
proved on many occasions serviceable to me.
But what are we to think of a governor who could play so scurvy a
trick, and thus grossly deceive a poor young lad, wholly destitute of
experience? It was a practice with him. Wishing to please every body,
and having little to bestow, he was lavish of promises. He was in
other respects sensible and judicious, a very tolerable writer, and
a good governor for the people; though not so for the proprietaries,
whose instructions he frequently disregarded. Many of our best laws
were his work, and established during his administration.
Ralph and I were inseparable companions. We took a lodging together
at three and sixpence a-week, which was as much as we could afford.
He met with some relations in London, but they were poor, and not
able to assist him. He now, for the first time, informed me of his
intention to remain in England, and that he had no thoughts of ever
returning to Philadelphia. He was totally without money; the little
he had been able to raise having barely sufficed for his passage. I
had still fifteen pistoles remaining; and to me he had from time to
time recourse, while he tried to get employment.
At first, believing himself possessed of talents for the stage,
he thought of turning actor; but Wilkes, to whom he applied,
frankly advised him to renounce the idea, as it was impossible
he should succeed. He next proposed to Roberts, a bookseller in
Paternoster-row, to write a weekly paper in the manner of the
Spectator, upon terms to which Roberts would not listen. Lastly, he
endeavoured to procure employment as a copyist, and applied to the
lawyers and stationers about the Temple; but he could find no vacancy.
As to myself, I immediately got engaged at Palmer's, at that time
a noted printer in Bartholomew-close, with whom I continued nearly
a year. I applied very assiduously to my work; but I expended with
Ralph almost all that I earned. Plays, and other places of amusement
which we frequented together, having exhausted my pistoles, we lived
after this from hand to mouth. He appeared to have entirely forgotten
his wife and child, as I also, by degrees, forgot my engagements
with Miss Read, to whom I never wrote more than one letter, and that
merely to inform her that I was not likely to return soon. This
was another grand error of my life, which I should be desirous of
correcting were I to begin my career again.
I was employed at Palmer's on the second edition of Woolaston's
Religion of Nature. Some of his arguments appearing to me not to
be well-founded, I wrote a small metaphysical treatise, in which
I animadverted on those passages. It was entitled a "Dissertation
on Liberty and Necessity, Pleasure and Pain." I dedicated it to my
friend Ralph, and printed a small number of copies. Palmer upon this
treated me with more consideration, and regarded me as a young man of
talents; though he seriously took me to task for the principles of my
pamphlet, which he looked upon as abominable. The printing of this
work was another error of my life.
While I lodged in Little Britain I formed acquaintance with a
bookseller of the name of Wilcox, whose shop was next door to me.
Circulating libraries were not then in use. He had an immense
collection of books of all sorts. We agreed that, for a reasonable
retribution, of which I have now forgotten the price, I should have
free access to his library, and take what books I pleased, which I
was to return when I had read them. I considered this agreement as a
very great advantage; and I derived from it as much benefit as was in
my power.
My pamphlet falling into the hands of a surgeon, of the name
of Lyons, author of a book entitled, "Infallibility of Human
Judgment," was the occasion of a considerable intimacy between us.
He expressed great esteem for me, came frequently to see me, in
order to converse upon metaphysical subjects, and introduced me to
Dr. Mandeville, author of the Fable of the Bees, who had instituted
a club at a tavern in Cheapside, of which he was the soul: he was
a facetious and very amusing character. He also introduced me, at
Batson's coffee-house, to Dr. Pemberton, who promised to give me
an opportunity of seeing Sir Isaac Newton, which I very ardently
desired; but he never kept his word.
I had brought some curiosities with me from America; the principal of
which was a purse made of the asbestos, which fire only purifies.
Sir Hans Sloane hearing of it, called upon me, and invited me to his
house in Bloomsbury-square, where, after showing me every thing that
was curious, he prevailed on me to add this piece to his collection;
for which he paid me very handsomely.
There lodged in the same house with us a young woman, a milliner,
who had a shop by the side of the Exchange. Lively and sensible,
and having received an education somewhat above her rank, her
conversation was very agreeable. Ralph read plays to her every
evening. They became intimate. She took another lodging, and he
followed her. They lived for some time together; but Ralph being
without employment, she having a child, and the profits of her
business not sufficing for the maintenance of three, he resolved
to quit London, and try a country school. This was a plan in which
he thought himself likely to succeed; as he wrote a fine hand, and
was versed in arithmetic and accounts. But considering the office
as beneath him, and expecting some day to make a better figure in
the world, when he should be ashamed of its being known that he had
exercised a profession so little honourable, he changed his name,
and did me the honour to assume mine. He wrote to me soon after his
departure, informing me that he was settled at a small village in
Berkshire. In his letter he recommended Mrs. T***, the milliner,
to my care, and requested an answer, directed to Mr. Franklin,
school-master, at N***.
He continued to write to me frequently, sending me large fragments
of an epic poem he was composing, and which he begged of me to
criticise and correct. I did so, but not without endeavouring to
prevail on him to renounce this pursuit. Young had just published one
of his Satires. I copied and sent him a great part of it; in which
the author demonstrates the folly of cultivating the muses, from the
hope, by their instrumentality, of rising in the world. It was all to
no purpose; paper after paper of his poem continued to arrive every
post.
Meanwhile Mrs. T*** having lost, on his account, both her friends
and her business, was frequently in distress. In this dilemma she had
recourse to me; and to extricate her from difficulties, I lent her
all the money I could spare. I felt a little too much fondness for
her. Having at that time no ties of religion, and taking advantage of
her necessitous situation, I attempted liberties, (another error of
my life,) which she repelled with becoming indignation. She informed
Ralph of my conduct; and the affair occasioned a breach between
us. When he returned to London, he gave me to understand that he
considered all the obligations he owed me as annihilated by this
proceeding; whence I concluded that I was never to expect the payment
of what money I had lent him, or advanced on his account. I was the
less afflicted at this, as he was wholly unable to pay me; and as, by
losing his friendship, I was relieved at the same time from a very
heavy burden.
I now began to think of laying by some money. The printing-house of
Watts, near Lincoln's-Inn-Fields, being a still more considerable
one than that in which I worked, it was probable I might find it
more advantageous to be employed there. I offered myself, and was
accepted; and in this house I continued during the remainder of my
stay in London.
On my entrance I worked at first as a pressman, conceiving that I had
need of bodily exercise, to which I had been accustomed in America,
where the printers work alternately as compositors and at the press.
I drank nothing but water. The other workmen, to the number of about
fifty, were great drinkers of beer. I carried occasionally a large
form of letters in each hand, up and down stairs, while the rest
employed both hands to carry one. They were surprised to see, by this
and many other examples, that the _American Aquatic_, as they used
to call me, was stronger than those who drank porter. The beer-boy
had sufficient employment during the whole day in serving that house
alone. My fellow pressman drank every day a pint of beer before
breakfast, a pint with bread and cheese for breakfast, one between
breakfast and dinner, one at dinner, one again about six o'clock in
the afternoon, and another after he had finished his day's work. This
custom appeared to me abominable; but he had need, he said, of all
this beer, in order to acquire strength to work.
I endeavoured to convince him that the bodily strength furnished by
the beer, could only be in proportion to the solid part of the barley
dissolved in the water of which the beer was composed; that there was
a larger portion of flour in a penny loaf, and that consequently if
he ate this loaf, and drank a pint of water with it, he would derive
more strength from it than from a pint of beer. This reasoning,
however, did not prevent him from drinking his accustomed quantity
of beer, and paying every Saturday night a score of four or five
shillings a-week for this cursed beverage; an expence from which I
was wholly exempt. Thus do these poor devils continue all their lives
in a state of voluntary wretchedness and poverty.
At the end of a few weeks, Watts having occasion for me above stairs
as a compositor, I quitted the press. The compositors demanded of me
garnish money a-fresh. This I considered as an imposition, having
already paid below. The master was of the same opinion, and desired
me not to comply. I thus remained two or three weeks out of the
fraternity. I was consequently looked upon as excommunicated; and
whenever I was absent, no little trick that malice could suggest
was left unpractised upon me. I found my letters mixed, my pages
transposed, my matter broken, &c. &c. all which was attributed to
the spirit that haunted the chapel,[4] and tormented those who were
not regularly admitted. I was at last obliged to submit to pay,
notwithstanding the protection of the master; convinced of the folly
of not keeping up a good understanding with those among whom we are
destined to live.
After this I lived in the utmost harmony with my fellow-labourers,
and soon acquired considerable influence among them. I proposed
some alterations in the laws of the chapel, which I carried without
opposition. My example prevailed with several of them to renounce
their abominable practice of bread and cheese with beer; and they
procured, like me, from a neighbouring house, a good basin of warm
gruel, in which was a small slice of butter, with toasted bread and
nutmeg. This was a much better breakfast, which did not cost more
than a pint of beer, namely, three halfpence, and at the same time
preserved the head clearer. Those who continued to gorge themselves
with beer, often lost their credit with the publican, from neglecting
to pay their score. They had then recourse to me, to become security
for them; _their light_, as they used to call it, _being out_.
I attended at the pay-table every Saturday evening, to take up
the little sum which I had made myself answerable for; and which
sometimes amounted to nearly thirty shillings a-week.
This circumstance, added to my reputation of being a tolerable good
_gabber_, or, in other words, skilful in the art of burlesque, kept
up my importance in the chapel. I had besides recommended myself to
the esteem of my master by my assiduous application to business,
never observing Saint Monday. My extraordinary quickness in composing
always procured me such work as was most urgent, and which is
commonly best paid; and thus my time passed away in a very pleasant
manner.
My lodging in Little Britain being too far from the printing-house,
I took another in Duke-street, opposite the Roman Catholic chapel.
It was at the back of an Italian warehouse. The house was kept by a
widow, who had a daughter, a servant, and a shop-boy; but the latter
slept out of the house. After sending to the people with whom I
lodged in Little Britain, to enquire into my character, she agreed to
take me in at the same price, three and sixpence a-week; contenting
herself, she said, with so little, because of the security she should
derive, as they were all women, from having a man lodger in the
house.
She was a woman rather advanced in life, the daughter of a clergyman.
She had been educated a Protestant; but her husband, whose memory she
highly revered, had converted her to the Catholic religion. She had
lived in habits of intimacy with persons of distinction; of whom she
knew various anecdotes as far back as the time of Charles II. Being
subject to fits of the gout, which often confined her to her room,
she was sometimes disposed to see company. Hers was so amusing to me,
that I was glad to pass the evening with her as often as she desired
it. Our supper consisted only of half an anchovy a piece, upon a
slice of bread and butter, with half a pint of ale between us. But
the entertainment was in her conversation.
The early hours I kept, and the little trouble I occasioned in the
family, made her loth to part with me; and when I mentioned another
lodging I had found, nearer the printing-house, at two shillings
a week, which fell in with my plan of saving, she persuaded me to
give it up, making herself an abatement of two shillings: and thus
I continued to lodge with her, during the remainder of my abode in
London, at eighteen pence a week.
In a garret of the house there lived, in the most retired manner, a
lady seventy years of age, of whom I received the following account
from my landlady. She was a Roman Catholic. In her early years she
had been sent to the continent, and entered a convent with the
design of becoming a nun; but the climate not agreeing with her
constitution, she was obliged to return to England, where, as there
were no monasteries, she made a vow to lead a monastic life, in
as rigid a manner as circumstances would permit. She accordingly
disposed of all her property to be applied to charitable uses,
reserving to herself only twelve pounds a year; and of this small
pittance she gave a part to the poor, living on water gruel, and
never making use of fire but to boil it. She had lived in this garret
a great many years, without paying rent to the successive Catholic
inhabitants that had kept the house; who indeed considered her abode
with them as a blessing. A priest came every day to confess her. I
have asked her, said my landlady, how, living as she did, she could
find so much employment for a confessor? To which she answered, that
it was impossible to avoid vain thoughts.
I was once permitted to visit her. She was cheerful and polite, and
her conversation agreeable. Her apartment was neat; but the whole
furniture consisted of a mattress, a table, on which were a crucifix
and a book, a chair, which she gave me to sit on, and over the
mantle-piece a picture of St. Veronica displaying her handkerchief,
on which was seen the miraculous impression of the face of Christ,
which she explained to me with great gravity. Her countenance was
pale, but she had never experienced sickness; and I may adduce her as
another proof how little is sufficient to maintain life and health.
At the printing house I contracted an intimacy with a sensible
young man of the name of Wygate, who, as his parents were in good
circumstances, had received a better education than is common among
printers. He was a tolerable Latin scholar, spoke French fluently,
and was fond of reading. I taught him, as well as a friend of his,
to swim, by taking them twice only into the river; after which they
stood in need of no farther assistance. We one day made a party to go
by water to Chelsea, in order to see the College, and Don Soltero's
curiosities. On our return, at the request of the company, whose
curiosity Wygate had excited, I undressed myself, and leaped into
the river. I swam from near Chelsea the whole way to Blackfriars,
exhibiting, during my course, a variety of feats of activity and
address, both upon the surface of the water, as well as under it.
This sight occasioned much astonishment and pleasure to those to
whom it was new. In my youth I took great delight in this exercise.
I knew, and could execute, all the evolutions and positions of
Thevenot; and I added to them some of my own invention, in which I
endeavoured to unite gracefulness and utility. I took a pleasure in
displaying them all on this occasion, and was highly flattered with
the admiration they excited.
Wygate, besides his being desirous of perfecting himself in this art,
was the more attached to me from there being, in other respects, a
conformity in our tastes and studies. He at length proposed to me to
make the tour of Europe with him, maintaining ourselves at the same
time by working at our profession. I was on the point of consenting,
when I mentioned it to my friend Mr. Denham, with whom I was glad
to pass an hour whenever I had leisure. He dissuaded me from the
project, and advised me to think of returning to Philadelphia, which
he was about to do himself. I must relate in this place a trait of
this worthy man's character.
He had formerly been in business at Bristol, but failing, he
compounded with his creditors, and departed for America, where, by
assiduous application as a merchant, he acquired in a few years
a very considerable fortune. Returning to England in the same
vessel with myself, as I have related above, he invited all his
old creditors to a feast. When assembled, he thanked them for the
readiness with which they had received his small composition; and,
while they expected nothing more than a simple entertainment, each
found under his plate, when it came to be removed, a draft upon a
banker for the residue of his debt, with interest.
He told me that it was his intention to carry back with him to
Philadelphia a great quantity of goods, in order to open a store;
and he offered to take me with him in the capacity of clerk, to
keep his books, in which he would instruct me, copy letters, and
superintend the store. He added, that as soon as I had acquired a
knowledge of mercantile transactions, he would improve my situation,
by sending me with a cargo of corn and flour to the American islands,
and by procuring me other lucrative commissions; so that, with good
management and economy, I might in time begin business with advantage
for myself.
I relished these proposals. London began to tire me; the agreeable
hours I had passed at Philadelphia presented themselves to my mind,
and I wished to see them revive. I consequently engaged myself to Mr.
Denham, at a salary of fifty pounds a year. This was, indeed less
than I earned as a compositor, but then I had a much fairer prospect.
I took leave therefore, as I believed for ever, of printing, and gave
myself up entirely to my new occupation, spending all my time either
in going from house to house with Mr. Denham to purchase goods, or
in packing them up, or in expediting the workmen, &c. &c. When every
thing, however, was on board, I had at last a few days leisure.
During this interval, I was one day sent for by a gentleman, whom I
knew only by name. It was Sir William Wyndham. I went to his house.
He had by some means heard of my performances between Chelsea and
Blackfriars, and that I had taught the art of swimming to Wygate and
another young man in the course of a few hours. His two sons were on
the point of setting out on their travels; he was desirous that they
should previously learn to swim, and offered me a very liberal reward
if I would undertake to instruct them. They were not yet arrived
in town, and the stay I should make was uncertain; I could not
therefore accept his proposal. I was led, however, to suppose from
this incident, that if I had wished to remain in London, and open a
swimming school, I should perhaps have gained a great deal of money.
This idea struck me so forcibly that, had the offer been made sooner,
I should have dismissed the thought of returning as yet to America.
Some years after, you and I had a more important business to settle
with one of the sons of Sir William Wyndham, then Lord Egremont. But
let us not anticipate events.
I thus passed about eighteen months in London, working almost without
intermission at my trade, avoiding all expence on my own account,
except going now and then to the play, and purchasing a few books.
But my friend Ralph kept me poor. He owed me about twenty-seven
pounds, which was so much money lost; and when considered as taken
from my little savings, was a very great sum. I had, notwithstanding
this, a regard for him, as he possessed many amiable qualities. But
though I had done nothing for myself in point of fortune, I had
increased my stock of knowledge, either by the many excellent books
I had read, or the conversation of learned and literary persons with
whom I was acquainted.
We sailed from Gravesend the 23d of July, 1726. For the incidents
of my voyage I refer you to my Journal, where you will find all its
circumstances minutely related. We landed at Philadelphia on the 11th
of the following October.
Keith had been deprived of his office of governor, and was succeeded
by Major Gordon. I met him walking in the streets as a private
individual. He appeared a little ashamed at seeing me, but passed on
without saying any thing.
I should have been equally ashamed myself at meeting Miss Read, had
not her family, justly despairing of my return after reading my
letter, advised her to give me up, and marry a potter, of the name
of Rogers; to which she consented: but he never made her happy,
and she soon separated from him, refusing to cohabit with him, or
even bear his name, on account of a report which prevailed, of his
having another wife. His skill in his profession had seduced Miss
Read's parents; but he was as bad a subject as he was excellent as a
workman. He involved himself in debt, and fled, in the year 1727 or
1728, to the West Indies, where he died.
During my absence Keimer had taken a more considerable house, in
which he kept a shop, that was well supplied with paper, and various
other articles. He had procured some new types, and a number of
workmen; among whom, however, there was not one who was good for any
thing; and he appeared not to want business.
Mr. Denham took a warehouse in Water-street, where we exhibited our
commodities. I applied myself closely, studied accounts, and became
in a short time very expert in trade. We lodged and ate together. He
was sincerely attached to me, and acted towards me as if he had been
my father. On my side, I respected and loved him. My situation was
happy; but it was a happiness of no long duration.
Early in February, 1727, when I entered into my twenty-second year,
we were both taken ill. I was attacked with a pleurisy, which had
nearly carried me off; I suffered terribly, and considered it as
all over with me. I felt indeed a sort of disappointment when I
found myself likely to recover, and regretted that I had still to
experience, sooner or later, the same disagreeable scene again.
I have forgotten what was Mr. Denham's disorder; but it was a tedious
one, and he at last sunk under it. He left me a small legacy in his
will, as a testimony of his friendship; and I was once more abandoned
to myself in the wide world, the warehouse being confided to the care
of testamentary executor, who dismissed me.
My brother-in-law, Holmes, who happened to be at Philadelphia,
advised me to return to my former profession; and Keimer offered me
a very considerable salary if I would undertake the management of
his printing-office, that he might devote himself entirely to the
superintendence of his shop. His wife and relations in London had
given me a bad character of him; and I was loth, for the present, to
have any concern with him. I endeavoured to get employment as a clerk
to a merchant; but not readily finding a situation, I was induced to
accept Keimer's proposal.
The following were the persons I found in his printing-house:
Hugh Meredith, a Pennsylvanian, about thirty-five years of age.
He had been brought up to husbandry, was honest, sensible, had
some experience, and was fond of reading; but too much addicted to
drinking.
Stephen Potts, a young rustic, just broke from school, and of
rustic education, with endowments rather above the common order,
and a competent portion of understanding and gaiety; but a little
idle. Keimer had engaged these two at very low wages, which he had
promised to raise every three months a shilling a week, provided
their improvement in the typographic art should merit it. This future
increase of wages was the bait he had made use of to ensnare them.
Meredith was to work at the press, and Potts to bind books, which he
had engaged to teach them, though he understood neither himself.
John Savage, an Irishman, who had been brought up to no trade, and
whose service, for a period of four years, Keimer had purchased of
the captain of a ship. He was also to be a pressman.
George Webb, an Oxford scholar, whose time he had in like manner
bought for four years, intending him for a compositor. I shall speak
more of him presently.
Lastly, David Harry, a country lad, who was apprenticed to him.
I soon perceived that Keimer's intention, in engaging me at a price
so much above what he was accustomed to give, was, that I might form
all these raw journeymen and apprentices, who scarcely cost him any
thing, and who, being indentured, would, as soon as they should be
sufficiently instructed, enable him to do without me. I nevertheless
adhered to my agreement. I put the office in order, which was in the
utmost confusion, and brought his people by degrees, to pay attention
to their work, and to execute it in a more masterly style.
It was singular to see an Oxford scholar in the condition of a
purchased servant. He was not more than eighteen years of age,
and the following are the particulars he gave me of himself. Born
at Gloucester, he had been educated at a grammar-school, and had
distinguished himself among the scholars by his superior style of
acting, when they represented dramatic performances. He was a member
of a literary club in the town; and some pieces of his composition,
in prose as well as in verse, had been inserted in the Gloucester
papers. From hence he was sent to Oxford, where he remained about
a year: but he was not contented, and wished above all things to
see London, and become an actor. At length, having received fifteen
guineas to pay his quarter's board, he decamped with the money, from
Oxford, hid his gown in a hedge, and travelled to London. There,
having no friend to direct him, he fell into bad company, soon
squandered his fifteen guineas, could find no way of being introduced
to the actors, became contemptible, pawned his cloaths, and was in
want of bread. As he was walking along the streets, almost famished
with hunger, and not knowing what to do, a recruiting-bill was put
into his hand, which offered an immediate treat and bounty-money to
whoever was disposed to serve in America. He instantly repaired to
the house of rendezvous, inlisted himself, was put on board a ship
and conveyed to America, without ever writing a line to inform his
parents what was become of him. His mental vivacity, and good natural
disposition, made him an excellent companion; but he was indolent,
thoughtless, and to the last degree imprudent.
John, the Irishman, soon ran away. I began to live very agreeably
with the rest. They respected me, and the more so as they found
Keimer incapable of instructing them, and as they learned something
from me every day. We never worked on a Saturday, it being Keimer's
Sabbath, so that I had two days a week for reading.
I increased my acquaintance with persons of information and knowledge
in the town. Keimer himself treated me with great civility, and
apparent esteem; and I had nothing to give me uneasiness but my debt
to Vernon, which I was unable to pay, my savings as yet being very
little. He had the goodness, however, not to ask me for the money.
Our press was frequently in want of the necessary quantity of letter,
and there was no such trade as that of letter-founder in America. I
had seen the practice of this art at the house of James, in London,
but had at the time paid it very little attention; I however,
contrived to fabricate a mould. I made use of such letters as we had
for punches, founded new letters of lead in mattrices of clay, and
thus supplied in a tolerable manner the wants that were most pressing.
I also, upon occasion, engraved various ornaments, made ink, gave an
eye to the shop--in short, I was in every respect the _factotum_. But
useful as I made myself, I perceived that my services became every
day of less importance, in proportion as the other men improved;
and when Keimer paid me my second quarter's wages, he gave me to
understand they were too heavy, and that he thought I ought to make
an abatement. He became by degrees less civil, and assumed more the
tone of master. He frequently found fault, was difficult to please,
and seemed always on the point of coming to an open quarrel with me.
I continued, however, to bear it patiently, conceiving that his ill
humour was partly occasioned by the derangement and embarrassment of
his affairs. At last a slight incident broke our connection. Hearing
a noise in the neighbourhood, I put my head out at the window, to see
what was the matter. Keimer being in the street, observed me, and in
a loud and angry tone bid me to mind my work; adding some reproachful
words, which piqued me the more, as they were uttered in the street;
and the neighbours, whom the same noise attracted to the windows,
were witnesses of the manner in which I was treated. He immediately
came up to the printing-room, where he continued to exclaim against
me. The quarrel became warm on both sides, and he gave me notice to
quit him at the expiration of three months, as had been agreed upon
between us; regretting that he was obliged to give me so long a term.
I told him that his regret was superfluous, as I was ready to quit
him instantly; and I took my hat and came out of the house, begging
Meredith to take care of some things which I left, and bring them to
my lodgings.
Meredith came to me in the evening. We talked for some time upon the
quarrel that had taken place. He had conceived a great veneration
for me, and was sorry I should quit the house, while he remained in
it. He dissuaded me from returning to my native country, as I began
to think of doing. He reminded me that Keimer owed more than he
possessed; that his creditors began to be alarmed; that he kept his
shop in a wretched state, often selling things at prime cost for the
sake of ready money, and continually giving credit without keeping
any accounts; that of consequence he must very soon fail, which would
occasion a vacancy from which I might derive advantage. I objected my
want of money. Upon which he informed me that his father had a very
high opinion of me, and, from a conversation that had passed between
them, he was sure he would advance whatever might be necessary to
establish us, if I was willing to enter into partnership with him.
"My time with Keimer," added he, "will be at an end next spring. In
the mean time we may send to London for our press and types. I know
that I am no workman; but if you agree to the proposal, your skill in
the business will be balanced by the capital I shall furnish, and we
will share the profits equally." His proposal was reasonable, and I
fell in with it. His father, who was then in town, approved of it. He
knew that I had some ascendancy over his son, as I had been able to
prevail on him to abstain for a long time from drinking brandy; and
he hoped that, when more closely connected with him, I should cure
him entirely of this unfortunate habit.
I gave the father a list of what it would be necessary to import
from London. He took it to a merchant, and the order was given. We
agreed to keep the secret till the arrival of the materials, and
I was in the mean time to procure work, if possible, in another
printing-house; but there was no place vacant, and I remained idle.
After some days, Keimer having the expectation of being employed
to print some New Jersey money-bills, that would require types and
engravings which I only could furnish, and fearful that Bradford, by
engaging me, might deprive him of this undertaking, sent me a very
civil message, telling me that old friends ought not to be disunited
on account of a few words, which were the effect only of a momentary
passion, and inviting me to return to him. Meredith persuaded me to
comply with the invitation, particularly as it would afford him more
opportunities of improving himself in the business, by means of my
instructions. I did so; and we lived upon better terms than before
our separation.
He obtained the New Jersey business; and, in order to execute it, I
constructed a copper-plate printing-press! the first that had been
seen in the country. I engraved various ornaments and vignettes for
the bills; and we repaired to Burlington together, where I executed
the whole to the general satisfaction; and he received a sum of money
for this work, which enabled him to keep his head above water for a
considerable time longer.
At Burlington I formed an acquaintance with the principal personages
of the province; many of whom were commissioned by the assembly to
superintend the press, and to see that no more bills were printed
than the law had prescribed. Accordingly they were constantly with
us, each in his turn; and he that came, commonly brought with him
a friend or two to bear him company. My mind was more cultivated
by reading than Keimer's; and it was for this reason, probably,
that they set more value on my conversation. They took me to their
houses, introduced me to their friends, and treated me with the
greatest civility; while Keimer, though master, saw himself a little
neglected. He was, in fact, a strange animal, ignorant of the common
modes of life, apt to oppose with rudeness generally received
opinions, an enthusiast in certain points of religion, disgustingly
unclean in his person, and a little knavish withal.
We remained there nearly three months, and at the expiration of
this period I could include in the list of my friends, Judge Allen,
Samuel Bustil, secretary of the province, Isaac Pearson, Joseph
Cooper, several of the Smiths, all members of the assembly, and Isaac
Decon, inspector-general. The last was a shrewd and subtle old man.
He told me, that, when a boy, his first employment had been that of
carrying clay to the brick-makers; that he did not learn to write
till he was somewhat advanced in life; and that he was afterwards
employed as an underling to a surveyor, who taught him his trade,
and that by industry he had at last acquired a competent fortune.
"I foresee," said he one day to me, "that you will soon supplant
this man," speaking of Keimer, "and get a fortune in the business at
Philadelphia." He was wholly ignorant at the time, of my intention of
establishing myself there, or any where else. These friends were very
serviceable to me in the end, as was I also, upon occasion, to some
of them; and they have continued ever since their esteem for me.
Before I relate the particulars of my entrance into business, it may
be proper to inform you what was at that time the state of my mind
as to moral principles, that you may see the degree of influence they
had upon the subsequent events of my life.
My parents had given me betimes religious impressions; and I received
from my infancy a pious education in the principles of Calvinism.
But scarcely was I arrived at fifteen years of age, when, after
having doubted in turn of different tenets, according as I found
them combated in the different books that I read, I began to doubt
of revelation itself. Some volumes against deism fell into my hands.
They were said to be the substance of sermons preached at Boyle's
lecture. It happened that they produced on me an effect precisely
the reverse of what was intended by the writers; for the arguments
of the deists, which were cited in order to be refuted, appeared
to me much more forcible than the refutation itself. In a word, I
soon became a perfect deist. My arguments perverted some other young
persons, particularly Collins and Ralph. But in the sequel, when I
recollected that they had both used me extremely ill, without the
smallest remorse; when I considered the behaviour of Keith, another
free-thinker, and my own conduct towards Vernon and Miss Read, which
at times gave me great uneasiness, I was led to suspect that this
doctrine, though it might be true, was not very useful. I began to
entertain a less favourable opinion of my London pamphlet to which I
had prefixed as a motto, the following lines of Dryden:
Whatever is--is right; though purblind man
Sees but a part of the chain, the nearest link,
His eyes not carrying to the equal beam
That poises all above.
And of which the object was to prove, from the attributes of God,
his goodness, wisdom, and power, that there could be no such thing
as evil in the world; that vice and virtue did not in reality exist,
and were nothing more than vain distinctions. I no longer regarded it
as so blameless a work as I had formerly imagined; and I suspected
that some error must have imperceptibly glided into my argument, by
which all the inferences I had drawn from it had been affected, as
frequently happens in metaphysical reasonings. In a word, I was at
last convinced that truth, probity, and sincerity in transactions
between man and man, were of the utmost importance to the happiness
of life; and I resolved from that moment, and wrote the resolution in
my journal, to practise them as long as I lived.
Revelation, indeed, as such, had no influence on my mind; but I was
of opinion that, though certain actions could not be bad merely
because revelation had prohibited them, or good because it enjoined
them, yet it was probable that those actions were prohibited because
they were bad for us, or enjoined because advantageous in their
nature, all things considered. This persuasion, divine providence,
or some guardian angel, and perhaps a concurrence of favourable
circumstances co-operating, preserved me from all immorality, or
gross and _voluntary_, injustice, to which my want of religion was
calculated to expose me, in the dangerous period of youth, and in
the hazardous situations in which I sometimes found myself, among
strangers, and at a distance from the eye and admonitions of my
father. I may say _voluntary_, because the errors into which I had
fallen, had been in a manner the forced result either of my own
inexperience, or the dishonesty of others. Thus, before I entered
on my new career, I had imbibed solid principles, and a character
of probity. I knew their value; and I made a solemn engagement with
myself never to depart from them.
I had not long returned from Burlington before our printing materials
arrived from London. I settled my accounts with Keimer, and quitted
him, with his own consent, before he had any knowledge of our plan.
We found a house to let near the market. We took it; and to render
the rent less burdensome, (it was then twenty-four pounds a year, but
I have since known it let for seventy,) we admitted Thomas Godfrey, a
glazier, with his family, who eased us of a considerable part of it;
and with him we agreed to board.
We had no sooner unpacked our letters, and put our press in order,
than a person of my acquaintance, George House, brought us a
countryman, whom he had met in the streets enquiring for a printer.
Our money was almost exhausted by the number of things we had
been obliged to procure. The five shillings we received from this
countryman, the first fruits of our earnings, coming so seasonably,
gave me more pleasure than any sum I have since gained; and the
recollection of the gratitude I felt on this occasion to George
House, has rendered me often more disposed, than perhaps I should
otherwise have been, to encourage young beginners in trade.
There are in every country morose beings, who are always
prognosticating ruin. There was one of this stamp at Philadelphia.
He was a man of fortune, declining in years, had an air of wisdom,
and a very grave manner of speaking. His name was Samuel Mickle. I
knew him not; but he stopped one day at my door, and asked me if I
was the young man who had lately opened a new printing-house. Upon
my answering in the affirmative, he said he was very sorry for me,
as it was an expensive undertaking, and the money that had been
laid out upon it would be lost, Philadelphia being a place falling
into decay; its inhabitants having all, or nearly all of them,
been obliged to call together their creditors. That he knew, from
undoubted fact, the circumstances which might lead us to suppose the
contrary, such as new buildings, and the advanced price of rent, to
be deceitful appearances, which, in reality, contributed to hasten
the general ruin; and he gave me so long a detail of misfortunes,
actually existing, or which were soon to take place, that he left me
almost in a state of despair. Had I known this man before I entered
into trade, I should doubtless never have ventured. He continued,
however, to live in this place of decay, and to declaim in the same
style, refusing for many years to buy a house because all was going
to wreck; and in the end I had the satisfaction to see him pay five
times as much for one as it would have cost him had he purchased it
when he first began his lamentations.
I ought to have related, that, during the autumn of the preceding
year, I had united the majority of well-informed persons of my
acquaintance into a club, which we called by the name of the _Junto_,
and the object of which was to improve our understandings. We met
every Friday evening. The regulations I drew up, obliged every member
to propose, in his turn, one or more questions upon some point of
morality, politics, or philosophy, which were to be discussed by
the society; and to read, once in three months, an essay of his
own composition, on whatever subject he pleased. Our debates were
under the direction of a president, and were to be dictated only by
a sincere desire of truth; the pleasure of disputing, and the vanity
of triumph having no share in the business; and in order to prevent
undue warmth, every expression which implied obstinate adherence to
an opinion, and all direct contradiction, were prohibited, under
small pecuniary penalties.
The first members of our club were Joseph Breintnal, whose occupation
was that of a scrivener. He was a middle-aged man, of a good natural
disposition, strongly attached to his friends, a great lover of
poetry, reading every thing that came in his way, and writing
tolerably well, ingenious in many little trifles, and of an agreeable
conversation.
Thomas Godfrey, a skilful, though self-taught mathematician, and
who was afterwards the inventor of what now goes by the name of
Hadley's quadrant; but he had little knowledge out of his own line,
and was insupportable in company, always requiring, like the majority
of mathematicians that had fallen in my way, an unusual precision
in every thing that is said, continually contradicting, or making
trifling distinctions; a sure way of defeating all the ends of
conversation. He very soon left us.
Nicholas Scull, a surveyor, and who became afterwards,
surveyor-general. He was fond of books, and wrote verses.
William Parsons, brought up to the trade of a shoe-maker, but who,
having a taste for reading, had acquired a profound knowledge of
mathematics. He first studied them with a view to astrology, and
was, afterwards, the first to laugh at his folly. He also became
surveyor-general.
William Mawgridge, a joiner, and very excellent mechanic; and in
other respects a man of solid understanding.
Hugh Meredith, Stephen Potts, and George Webb, of whom I have already
spoken.
Robert Grace, a young man of fortune; generous, animated, and witty;
fond of epigrams, but more fond of his friends.
And lastly, William Coleman, at that time a merchant's clerk, and
nearly of my own age. He had a cooler and clearer head, a better
heart, and more scrupulous morals, than almost any other person
I have ever met with. He became a very respectable merchant, and
one of our provincial judges. Our friendship subsisted, without
interruption, for more than forty years, till the period of his
death; and the club continued to exist almost as long.
This was the best school of politics and philosophy that then existed
in the province; for our questions, which were read a week previous
to their discussion, induced us to peruse attentively such books
as were written upon the subjects proposed, that we might be able
to speak upon them more pertinently. We thus acquired the habit of
conversing more agreeably; every object being discussed conformably
to our regulations, and in a manner to prevent mutual disgust. To
this circumstance may be attributed the long duration of the club;
which I shall have frequent occasion to mention as I proceed.
I have introduced it here, as being one of the means on which I had
to count for success in my business, every member exerting himself
to procure work for us. Breintnal, among others, obtained for us,
on the part of the Quakers, the printing of forty sheets of their
history; of which the rest was to be done by Keimer. Our execution
of this work was by no means masterly; as the price was very low.
It was in folio, upon _pro patria_ paper, and in the _pica_ letter,
with heavy notes in the smallest type. I composed a sheet a-day, and
Meredith put it to the press. It was frequently eleven o'clock at
night, sometimes later, before I had finished my distribution for the
next day's task; for the little things which our friends occasionally
sent us, kept us back in this work: but I was so determined to
compose a sheet a-day, that one evening, when my form was imposed,
and my day's work, as I thought, at an end, an accident having broken
this form, and deranged two complete folio pages, I immediately
distributed, and composed them anew before I went to bed.
This unwearied industry, which was perceived by our neighbours,
began to acquire us reputation and credit. I learned, among other
things, that our new printing-house being the subject of conversation
at a club of merchants, who met every evening, it was the general
opinion that it would fail; there being already two printing-houses
in the town, Keimer's and Bradford's. But Dr. Bard, whom you and I
had occasion to see, many years after, at his native town of St.
Andrew's, in Scotland, was of a different opinion. "The industry of
this Franklin, (said he,) is superior to any thing of the kind I
ever witnessed. I see him still at work when I return from the club
at night, and he is at it again in the morning before his neighbours
are out of bed." This account struck the rest of the assembly, and
shortly after, one of its members came to our house, and offered to
supply us with articles of stationary; but we wished not as yet to
embarrass ourselves with keeping a shop. It is not for the sake of
applause that I enter so freely into the particulars of my industry,
but that such of my descendants as shall read these memoirs may know
the use of this virtue, by seeing in the recital of my life the
effects it operated in my favour.
George Webb, having found a friend who lent him the necessary sum to
buy out his time of Keimer, came one day to offer himself to us as
a journeyman. We could not employ him immediately; but I foolishly
told him, under the rose, that I intended shortly to publish a
new periodical paper, and that we should then have work for him.
My hopes of success, which I imparted to him, were founded on the
circumstance, that the only paper we had in Philadelphia at that
time, and which Bradford printed, was a paltry thing, miserably
conducted, in no respect amusing, and which yet was profitable. I
consequently supposed that a good work of this kind could not fail
of success. Webb betrayed my secret to Keimer, who, to prevent me,
immediately published the _prospectus_ of a paper that he intended to
institute himself, and in which Webb was to be engaged.
I was exasperated at this proceeding, and, with a view to counteract
them, not being able at present to institute my own paper, I wrote
some humourous pieces in Bradford's, under the title of the Busy
Body[5]; and which was continued for several months by Breintnal.
I hereby fixed the attention of the public upon Bradford's paper;
and the _prospectus_ of Keimer, which we turned into ridicule, was
treated with contempt. He began, notwithstanding, his paper; and
after continuing it for nine months, having at most not more than
ninety subscribers, he offered it me for a mere trifle. I had for
some time been ready for such an engagement; I therefore instantly
took it upon myself, and, in a few years, it proved extremely
profitable to me.
I perceive that I am apt to speak in the first person, though our
partnership still continued. It is, perhaps, because, in fact, the
whole business devolved upon me. Meredith was no compositor, and
but an indifferent pressman; and it was rarely that he abstained
from hard drinking. My friends were sorry to see me connected with
him; but I contrived to derive from it the utmost advantage the case
admitted.
Our first number produced no other effect than any other paper
which had appeared in the province, as to type and printing; but
some remarks, in my peculiar style of writing, upon the dispute
which then prevailed between governor Burnet and the Massachusetts
assembly, struck some persons as above mediocrity, caused the paper
and its editors to be talked of, and in a few weeks, induced them to
become our subscribers. Many others followed their example; and our
subscription continued to increase. This was one of the first good
effects of the pains I had taken to learn to put my ideas on paper. I
derived this farther advantage from it, that the leading men of the
place, seeing in the author of this publication a man so well able
to use his pen, thought it right to patronize and encourage me.
The votes, laws, and other public pieces, were printed by Bradford.
An address of the house of assembly to the governor had been executed
by him in a very coarse and incorrect manner. We reprinted it
with accuracy and neatness, and sent a copy to every member. They
perceived the difference; and it so strengthened the influence of our
friends in the assembly, that we were nominated its printer for the
following year.
Among these friends I ought not to forget one member in particular,
Mr. Hamilton, whom I have mentioned in a former part of my narrative,
and who was now returned from England. He warmly interested
himself for me on this occasion, as he did likewise on many others
afterwards; having continued his kindness to me till his death.
About this period Mr. Vernon reminded me of the debt I owed him, but
without pressing me for payment. I wrote a handsome letter on the
occasion, begging him to wait a little longer, to which he consented;
and as soon as I was able I paid him, principal and interest, with
many expressions of gratitude; so that this error of my life was in a
manner atoned for.
But another trouble now happened to me, which I had not the smallest
reason to expect. Meredith's father, who, according to our agreement,
was to defray the whole expence of our printing materials, had
only paid a hundred pounds. Another hundred was still due, and the
merchant being tired of waiting, commenced a suit against us. We
bailed the action, but with the melancholy prospect, that, if the
money was not forthcoming at the time fixed, the affair would come
to issue, judgment be put in execution, our delightful hopes be
annihilated, and ourselves entirely ruined; as the type and press
must be sold, perhaps, at half their value, to pay the debt.
In this distress, two real friends, whose generous conduct I
have never forgotten, and never shall forget while I retain the
remembrance of any thing, came to me separately, without the
knowledge of each other, and without my having applied to either of
them. Each offered me whatever money might be necessary to take the
business into my own hands, if the thing was practicable, as they
did not like I should continue in partnership with Meredith, who,
they said, was frequently seen drunk in the streets, and gambling
at ale-houses, which very much injured our credit. These friends
were William Coleman and Robert Grace. I told them, that while there
remained any probability that the Merediths would fulfil their part
of the compact, I could not propose a separation, as I conceived
myself to be under obligations to them for what they had done
already, and were still disposed to do, if they had the power; but,
in the end, should they fail in their engagement, and our partnership
be dissolved, I should then think myself at liberty to accept the
kindness of my friends.
Things remained for some time in this state. At last, I said one
day to my partner, "Your father is, perhaps, dissatisfied with your
having a share only in the business, and is unwilling to do for two,
what he would do for you alone. Tell me frankly if that be the case,
and I will resign the whole to you, and do for myself as well as I
can."--"No, (said he,) my father has really been disappointed in his
hopes; he is not able to pay, and I wish to put him to no farther
inconvenience. I see that I am not at all calculated for a printer;
I was educated as a farmer, and it was absurd in me to come here,
at thirty years of age, and bind myself apprentice to a new trade.
Many of my countrymen are going to settle in North Carolina, where
the soil is exceedingly favourable. I am tempted to go with them,
and to resume my former occupation. You will doubtless find friends
who will assist you. If you will take upon yourself the debts of the
partnership, return my father the hundred pounds he has advanced, pay
my little personal debts, and give me thirty pounds and a new saddle,
I will renounce the partnership, and consign over the whole stock to
you."
I accepted this proposal without hesitation. It was committed to
paper, and signed and sealed without delay. I gave him what he
demanded, and he departed soon after for Carolina, from whence he
sent me, in the following year, two long letters, containing the best
accounts that had yet been given of that country, as to climate,
soil, agriculture, &c. for he was well versed in these matters. I
published them in my newspaper, and they were received with great
satisfaction.
As soon as he was gone, I applied to my two friends, and not wishing
to give a disobliging preference to either of them, I accepted
from each, half what he had offered me, and which it was necessary
I should have. I paid the partnership debts, and continued the
business on my own account; taking care to inform the public, by
advertisement, of the partnership being dissolved. This was, I
think, in the year 1729, or thereabout.
Nearly at the same period, the people demanded a new emission of
paper money; the existing and only one that had taken place in the
province, and which amounted to fifteen thousand pounds, being soon
to expire. The wealthy inhabitants, prejudiced against every sort of
paper currency, from the fear of its depreciation, of which there
had been an instance in the province of New England, to the injury
of its holders, strongly opposed the measure. We had discussed this
affair in our Junto, in which I was on the side of the new emission;
convinced that the first small sum, fabricated in 1723, had done
much good in the province, by favouring commerce, industry, and
population, since all the houses were now inhabited, and many others
building; whereas I remembered to have seen, when I first paraded
the streets of Philadelphia eating my roll, the majority of those
in Walnut-street, Second-street, Fourth-street, as well as a great
number in Chesnut and other streets, with papers on them signifying
that they were to be let; which made me think at the time that the
inhabitants of the town were deserting it one after another.
Our debates made me so fully master of the subject, that I wrote
and published an anonymous pamphlet, entitled, "An Enquiry into the
Nature and Necessity of a Paper currency." It was very well received
by the lower and middling class of people; but it displeased the
opulent, as it increased the clamour in favour of the new emission.
Having, however, no writer among them capable of answering it,
their opposition became less violent; and there being in the house
of assembly a majority for the measure, it passed. The friends I
had acquired in the house, persuaded that I had done the country
essential service on this occasion, rewarded me by giving me the
printing of the bills. It was a lucrative employment, and proved a
very seasonable help to me; another advantage which I derived from
having habituated myself to write.
Time and experience so fully demonstrated the utility of paper
currency, that it never after experienced any considerable
opposition; so that it soon amounted to 55,000_l._ and in the year
1739, to 80,000_l._ It has since risen, during the last war, to
350,000_l._, trade, buildings and population, having in the interval
continually increased: but I am now convinced that there are limits
beyond which paper money would be prejudicial.
I soon after obtained, by the influence of my friend Hamilton, the
printing of the Newcastle paper money, another profitable work,
as I then thought it, little things appearing great to persons of
moderate fortune; and they were really great to me, as proving great
encouragements. He also procured me the printing of the laws and
votes of that government, which I retained as long as I continued in
the business.
I now opened a small stationer's shop. I kept bonds and agreements of
all kinds, drawn up in a more accurate form than had yet been seen in
that part of the world; a work in which I was assisted by my friend
Breintnal. I had also paper, parchment, pasteboard, books, &c. One
Whitemash, an excellent compositor, whom I had known in London, came
to offer himself, I engaged him: and he continued constantly and
diligently to work with me. I also took an apprentice, the son of
Aquila Rose.
I began to pay, by degrees, the debt I had contracted; and, in order
to insure my credit and character as a tradesman, I took care not
only to be _really_ industrious and frugal, but also to avoid every
appearance of the contrary. I was plainly dressed, and never seen in
any place of public amusement. I never went a fishing or hunting. A
book, indeed, enticed me sometimes from my work, but it was seldom,
by stealth, and occasioned no scandal; and to show that I did not
think myself above my profession, I conveyed home, sometimes in a
wheelbarrow, the paper I purchased at the warehouses.
I thus obtained the reputation of being an industrious young man, and
very punctual in his payments. The merchants who imported articles
of stationary solicited my custom; others offered to furnish me with
books, and my little trade went on prosperously.
Meanwhile the credit and business of Keimer diminishing every day,
he was at last forced to sell his stock to satisfy his creditors;
and he betook himself to Barbadoes, where he lived for sometime in
a very impoverished state. His apprentice, David Harry, whom I had
instructed while I worked for Keimer, having bought his materials,
succeeded him in the business. I was apprehensive, at first, of
finding in Harry a powerful competitor, as he was allied to an
opulent and respectable family; I therefore proposed a partnership,
which, happily for me, he rejected with disdain. He was extremely
proud, thought himself a fine gentleman, lived extravagantly, and
pursued amusements which suffered him to be scarcely ever at home; of
consequence he became in debt, neglected his business, and business
neglected him. Finding in a short time nothing to do in the country,
he followed Keimer to Barbadoes, carrying his printing materials with
him. There the apprentice employed his old master as a journeyman.
They were continually quarrelling; and Harry still getting in debt,
was obliged at last to sell his press and types, and return to his
old occupation of husbandry in Pennsylvania. The person who purchased
them employed Keimer to manage the business; but he died a few years
after.
I had now at Philadelphia no competitor but Bradford, who, being in
easy circumstances, did not engage in the printing of books, except
now and then as workmen chanced to offer themselves; and was not
anxious to extend his trade. He had, however, one advantage over me,
as he had the direction of the post-office, and was of consequence
supposed to have better opportunities of obtaining news. His paper
was also supposed to be more advantageous to advertising customers;
and in consequence of that supposition, his advertisements were
much more numerous than mine: this was a source of great profit to
him, and disadvantageous to me. It was to no purpose that I really
procured other papers, and distributed my own, by means of the post;
the public took for granted my inability in this respect; and I was
indeed unable to conquer it in any other mode than by bribing the
post-boys, who served me only by stealth, Bradford being so illiberal
as to forbid them. This treatment of his excited my resentment; and
my disgust was so rooted, that, when I afterwards succeeded him in
the post-office, I took care to avoid copying his example.
I had hitherto continued to board with Godfrey, who, with his wife
and children, occupied part of my house, and half of the shop for
his business; at which indeed he worked very little, being always
absorbed by mathematics. Mrs. Godfrey formed a wish of marrying
me to the daughter of one of her relations. She contrived various
opportunities of bringing us together, till she saw that I was
captivated; which was not difficult, the lady in question possessing
great personal merit. The parents encouraged my addresses, by
inviting me continually to supper, and leaving us together, till at
last it was time to come to an explanation. Mrs. Godfrey undertook
to negociate our little treaty. I gave her to understand, that I
expected to receive with the young lady a sum of money that would
enable me at least to discharge the remainder of the debt for my
printing materials. It was then, I believe, not more than a hundred
pounds. She brought me for answer, that they had no such sum at their
disposal. I observed that it might easily be obtained, by a mortgage
on their house. The reply to this was, after a few days interval,
that they did not approve of the match; that they had consulted
Bradford, and found that the business of a printer was not lucrative;
that my letters would soon be worn out, and must be supplied with new
ones; that Keimer and Harry had failed, and that, probably, I should
do so too. Accordingly they forbade me the house, and the young lady
was confined. I know not if they had really changed their minds, or
if it was merely an artifice, supposing our affections to be too
far engaged for us to desist, and that we should contrive to marry
secretly, which would leave them at liberty to give or not as they
pleased. But, suspecting this motive, I never went again to their
house.
Some time after, Mrs. Godfrey informed me that they were very
favourably disposed towards me, and wished me to renew the
acquaintance; but I declared a firm resolution never to have any
thing more to do with the family. The Godfreys expressed some
resentment at this: and as we could no longer agree, they changed
their residence, leaving me in possession of the whole house. I
then resolved to take no more lodgers. This affair having turned
my thoughts to marriage, I looked around me, and made overtures of
alliance in other quarters: but I soon found that the profession of a
printer being generally looked upon as a poor trade, I could expect
no money with a wife, at least, if I wished her to possess any other
charm. Meanwhile, that passion of youth, so difficult to govern, had
often drawn me into intrigues with despicable women who fell in my
way; which were not unaccompanied with expence and inconvenience,
besides the perpetual risk of injuring my health, and catching a
disease which I dreaded above all things. But I was fortunate enough
to escape this danger.
As a neighbour and old acquaintance, I had kept up a friendly
intimacy with the family of Miss Read. Her parents had retained
an affection for me from the time of my lodging in their house. I
was often invited thither; they consulted me about their affairs,
and I had been sometimes serviceable to them. I was touched with
the unhappy situation of their daughter, who was almost always
melancholy, and continually seeking solitude. I regarded my
forgetfulness and inconstancy, during my abode in London, as the
principal cause of her misfortune, though her mother had the candour
to attribute the fault to herself, rather than to me, because after
having prevented our marriage previously to my departure, she had
induced her to marry another in my absence.
Our mutual affection revived; but there existed great obstacles
to our union. Her marriage was considered, indeed, as not being
valid, the man having, it was said, a former wife still living in
England; but of this it was difficult to obtain a proof at so great
a distance; and though a report prevailed of his being dead, yet we
had no certainty of it; and supposing it to be true, he had left
many debts, for the payment of which his successor might be sued. We
ventured, nevertheless, in spite of all these difficulties; and I
married her on the 1st of September, 1730. None of the inconveniences
we had feared happened to us. She proved to me a good and faithful
companion, and contributed essentially to the success of my shop. We
prospered together, and it was our mutual study to render each other
happy. Thus I corrected, as well as I could, this great error of my
youth.
Our club was not at that time established at a tavern. We held our
meetings at the house of Mr. Grace, who appropriated a room to
the purpose. Some member observed one day, that as our books were
frequently quoted in the course of our discussions, it would be
convenient to have them collected in the room in which we assembled,
in order to be consulted upon occasion; and that, by thus forming a
common library of our individual collections, each would have the
advantage of using the books of all the other members, which would
nearly be the same as if he possessed them all himself. The idea
was approved, and we accordingly brought such books as we thought
we could spare, which were placed at the end of the club-room.
They amounted not to so many as we expected; and through we made
considerable use of them, yet some inconveniences resulting, from
want of care, it was agreed, after about a year, to discontinue the
collection; and each took away such books as belonged to him.
It was now that I first started the idea of establishing, by
subscription, a public library, I drew up the proposals, had them
ingrossed in form by Brockden the attorney, and my project succeeded,
as will be seen in the sequel.
[The life of Dr. Franklin, as written by himself, so far as it
has yet been communicated to the world, breaks off in this place.
We understand that it was continued by him somewhat farther,
and we hope that the remainder will, at some future period, be
communicated to the public. We have no hesitation in supposing that
every reader will find himself greatly interested by the frank
simplicity and the philosophical discernment by which these pages
are so eminently characterized. We have therefore thought proper,
in order as much as possible to relieve his regret, to subjoin the
following continuation, by one of the Doctor's intimate friends.
It is extracted from an American periodical publication, and was
written by the late Dr. Stuber,[6] of Philadelphia.]
The promotion of literature had been little attended to in
Pennsylvania. Most of the inhabitants were too much immersed in
business to think of scientific pursuits; and those few, whose
inclinations led them to study, found it difficult to gratify them,
from the want of libraries sufficiently large. In such circumstances,
the establishment of a public library was an important event. This
was first set on foot by Franklin, about the year 1731. Fifty persons
subscribed forty shillings each, and agreed to pay ten shillings
annually. The number increased; and in 1742, the company was
incorporated by the name of "The Library Company of Philadelphia."
Several other companies were formed in this city in imitation of
it. These were all at length united with the Library Company of
Philadelphia, which thus received a considerable accession of books
and property. It now contains about eight thousand volumes on all
subjects, a philosophical apparatus, and a well-chosen collection of
natural and artificial curiosities. For its support the company now
possesses landed property of considerable value. They have lately
built an elegant house in Fifth-street, in the front of which will be
erected a marble statue of their founder, Benjamin Franklin.
This institution was greatly encouraged by the friends of literature
in America and in Great Britain. The Penn family distinguished
themselves by their donations. Amongst the earliest friends of
this institution must be mentioned the late Peter Collinson,
the friend and correspondent of Dr. Franklin. He not only made
considerable presents himself, and obtained others from his friends,
but voluntarily undertook to manage the business of the Company
in London, recommending books, purchasing and shipping them. His
extensive knowledge, and zeal for the promotion of science, enabled
him to execute this important trust with the greatest advantage.
He continued to perform these services for more than thirty years,
and uniformly refused to accept of any compensation. During this
time, he communicated to the directors every information relative to
improvements and discoveries in the arts, agriculture, and philosophy.
The beneficial influence of this institution was soon evident. The
terms of subscription to it were so moderate that it was accessible
to every one. Its advantages were not confined to the opulent. The
citizens in the middle and lower walks of life were equally partakers
of them. Hence a degree of information was extended amongst all
classes of people. The example was soon followed. Libraries were
established in various places, and they are now become very numerous
in the United States, and particularly in Pennsylvania. It is to
be hoped that they will be still more widely extended, and that
information will be every where increased. This will be the best
security for maintaining our liberties. A nation of well informed
men, who have been taught to know and prize the rights which God has
given them, cannot be enslaved. It is in the regions of ignorance
that tyranny reigns. It flies before the light of science. Let the
citizens of America, then, encourage institutions calculated to
diffuse knowledge amongst the people; and amongst these, public
libraries are not the least important.
In 1732, Franklin began to publish Poor Richard's Almanack. This
was remarkable for the numerous and valuable concise maxims which
it contained, all tending to exhort to industry and frugality. It
was continued for many years. In the almanack for the last year, all
the maxims were collected in an address to the reader, entitled, The
Way to Wealth. This has been translated into various languages, and
inserted in different publications. It has also been printed on a
large sheet, and may be seen framed in many houses in this city. This
address contains, perhaps, the best practical system of economy that
ever has appeared. It is written in a manner intelligible to every
one, and which cannot fail of convincing every reader of the justice
and propriety of the remarks and advice which it contains. The demand
for this almanack was so great, that ten thousand have been sold in
one year; which must be considered as a very large number, especially
when we reflect, that this country was, at that time, but thinly
peopled. It cannot be doubted that the salutary maxims contained in
these almanacks must have made a favourable impression upon many of
the readers of them.
It was not long before Franklin entered upon his political career.
In the year 1736, he was appointed clerk to the general assembly
of Pennsylvania, and was re-elected by succeeding assemblies for
several years, until he was chosen a representative for the city of
Philadelphia.
Bradford, the printer, mentioned above, was possessed of some
advantages over Franklin, by being post-master, thereby having an
opportunity of circulating his paper more extensively, and thus
rendering it a better vehicle for advertisements, &c. Franklin, in
his turn, enjoyed these advantages, by being appointed post-master
of Philadelphia in 1737. Bradford, while in office, had acted
ungenerously towards Franklin, preventing as much as possible the
circulation of his paper. He had now an opportunity of retaliating;
but his nobleness of soul prevented him from making use of it.
The police of Philadelphia had early appointed watchmen, whose duty
it was to guard the citizens against the midnight robber, and to
give an immediate alarm in case of fire. This duty is, perhaps, one
of the most important that can be committed to any set of men. The
regulations, however, were not sufficiently strict. Franklin saw the
dangers arising from this cause, and suggested an alteration, so as
to oblige the guardians of the night to be more watchful over the
lives and property of the citizens. The propriety of this was
immediately perceived, and a reform was effected.
There is nothing more dangerous to growing cities than fires. Other
causes operate slowly, and almost imperceptibly; but these in a
moment render abortive the labours of ages. On this account there
should be, in all cities, ample provisions to prevent fires from
spreading. Franklin early saw the necessity of these; and, about
the year 1728, formed the first fire company in this city. The
example was soon followed by others; and there are now numerous fire
companies in the city and liberties. To these may be attributed in
a great degree the activity in extinguishing fires, for which the
citizens of Philadelphia are distinguished, and the inconsiderable
damage this city has sustained from this cause. Some time after,
Franklin suggested the plan for an association for insuring houses
from losses by fire, which was adopted; and the association continues
to this day. The advantages experienced from it have been great.
From the first settlement of Pennsylvania, a spirit of dispute
appears to have prevailed among its inhabitants. During the life-time
of William Penn, the constitution had been three times altered. After
this period the history of Pennsylvania is little else than a recital
of the quarrels between the proprietaries, or their governors,
and the assembly. The proprietaries contended for the right of
exempting their land from taxes; to which the assembly would by no
means consent. This subject of dispute interfered in almost every
question, and prevented the most salutary laws from being enacted.
This at times subjected the people to great inconveniences. In the
year 1774, during a war between France and Great Britain, some
French and Indians had made inroads upon the frontier inhabitants
of the province, who were unprovided for such an attack. It became
necessary that the citizens should arm for their defence. Governor
Thomas recommended to the assembly, who were then sitting, to pass
a militia law. To this they would agree only upon condition, that
he should give his assent to certain laws, which appeared to them
calculated to promote the interests of the people. As he thought
these laws would be injurious to the proprietaries, he refused his
assent to them; and the assembly broke up without passing a militia
bill. The situation of the province was at this time truly alarming:
exposed to the continual inroad of an enemy, and destitute of every
means of defence. At this crisis Franklin stepped forth, and proposed
to a meeting of the citizens of Philadelphia, a plan of a voluntary
association for the defence of the province. This was approved
of, and signed by twelve hundred persons immediately. Copies were
circulated without delay through the province; and in a short time
the number of signatures amounted to ten thousand. Franklin was
chosen colonel of the Philadelphia regiment; but he did not think
proper to accept of the honour.
Pursuits of a different nature now occupied the greatest part of
his attention for some years. He engaged in a course of electrical
experiments, with all the ardor and thirst for discovery which
characterized the philosophers of that day. Of all the branches of
experimental philosophy, electricity had been least explored. The
attractive power of amber is mentioned by Theophrastus and Pliny,
and from them, by later naturalists. In the year 1600, Gilbert, an
English physician, enlarged considerably the catalogue of substances
which have the property of attracting light bodies. Boyle, Otto
Guericke, a burgomaster of Magdeburg, celebrated as the inventor
of the air-pump, Dr. Wall, and Sir Isaac Newton added some facts.
Guericke first observed the repulsive power of electricity, and the
light and noise produced by it. In 1709, Hawkesbec communicated
some important observations and experiments to the world. For
several years electricity was entirely neglected, until Mr. Grey
applied himself to it, in 1728, with great assiduity. He and his
friend Mr. Wheeler, made a great variety of experiments, in which
they demonstrated, that electricity may be communicated from one
body to another, even without being in contact, and in this way may
be conducted to a great distance. Mr. Grey afterwards found, that,
by suspending rods of iron by silk or hair lines, and bringing
an excited tube under them, sparks might be drawn, and a light
perceived at the extremities in the dark. M. du Faye, intendant
of the French king's gardens, made a number of experiments, which
added not a little to the science. He made the discovery of two
kinds of electricity, which he called _vitreous_ and _resinous_; the
former produced by rubbing glass, the latter from excited sulphur,
sealing-wax, &c. But this he afterwards gave up as erroneous. Between
the years 1739 and 1742, Desaguliers made a number of experiments,
but added little of importance. He first used the terms _conductors_
and _electrics per se_. In 1742, several ingenious Germans engaged
in this subject, of these the principal were, professor Boze
of Wittemberg, professor Winkler of Leipsic, Gordon, a Scotch
Benedictine monk, professor of philosophy at Erfurt, and Dr. Ludolf,
of Berlin. The result of their researches astonished the philosophers
of Europe. Their apparatus was large, and by means of it they were
enabled to collect large quantities of the electric fluid, and thus
to produce phenomena which had been hitherto unobserved. They killed
small birds, and set spirits on fire. Their experiments excited the
curiosity of other philosophers. Collinson, about the year 1745,
sent to the Library Company of Philadelphia, an account of these
experiments, together with a tube, and directions how to use it.
Franklin, with some of his friends, immediately engaged in a course
of experiments, the result of which is well known. He was enabled
to make a number of important discoveries, and to propose theories
to account for various phenomena, which have been universally
adopted, and which bid fair to endure for ages. His observations
he communicated in a series of letters, to his friend Collinson,
the first of which is dated March 28, 1747. In these he shews the
power of points in drawing and throwing off the electrical matter,
which had hitherto escaped the notice of electricians. He also made
the grand discovery of a _plus_ and _minus_, or of a _positive_ and
_negative_ state of electricity. We give him the honour of this,
without hesitation; although the English have claimed it for their
countryman, Dr. Watson. Watson's paper is dated January 21, 1748;
Franklin's July 11, 1747: several months prior. Shortly after,
Franklin, from his principles of the plus and minus state, explained,
in a satisfactory manner, the phenomena of the Leyden phial, first
observed by Mr. Cuneus, or by professor Muschenbroeck, of Leyden,
which had much perplexed philosophers. He shewed clearly, that when
charged, the bottle contained no more electricity than before, but
that as much was taken from one side as was thrown on the other;
and that, to discharge it, nothing was necessary but to produce a
communication between the two sides, by which the equilibrium might
be restored, and that then no signs of electricity would remain.
He afterwards demonstrated, by experiments, that the electricity
did not reside in the coating, as had been supposed, but in the
pores of the glass itself. After a phial was charged, he removed
the coating, and found that upon applying a new coating, the shock
might still be received. In the year 1749, he first suggested his
idea of explaining the phenomena of thunder-gusts, and of the aurora
borealis, upon electrical principles. He points out many particulars
in which lightning and electricity agree; and he adduces many
facts, and reasonings from facts, in support of his positions. In
the same year he conceived the astonishingly bold and grand idea of
ascertaining the truth of his doctrine, by actually drawing down
the lightning, by means of sharp-pointed iron rods, raised into the
region of the clouds. Even in this uncertain state, his passion
to be useful to mankind, displayed itself in a powerful manner.
Admitting the identity of electricity and lightning, and knowing the
power of points in repelling bodies charged with electricity, and in
conducting their fire silently and imperceptibly, he suggested the
idea of securing houses, ships, &c. from being damaged by lightning,
by erecting pointed rods, that should rise some feet above the most
elevated part, and descend some feet into the ground or the water.
The effect of these, he concluded, would be either to present a
stroke by repelling the cloud beyond the striking distance, or by
drawing off the electrical fire which it contained; or, if they could
not effect this, they would at least conduct the electric matter to
the earth, without any injury to the building.
It was not until the summer of 1752, that he was enabled to complete
his grand and unparalleled discovery by experiment. The plan, which
he had originally proposed, was, to erect on some high tower, or
other elevated place, a centry-box, from which should rise a pointed
iron rod, insulated by being fixed in a cake of resin. Electrified
clouds passing over this, would, he conceived, impart to it a
portion of their electricity, which would be rendered evident to the
senses by sparks being emitted, when a key, the knuckle, or other
conductor was presented to it. Philadelphia at this time afforded
no opportunity of trying an experiment of this kind. While Franklin
was waiting for the erection of a spire, it occurred to him that he
might have more ready access to the region of clouds by means of a
common kite. He prepared one by fastening two cross sticks to a silk
handkerchief, which would not suffer so much from the rain as paper.
To the upright stick was affixed an iron point. The string was, as
usual, of hemp, except the lower end, which was silk. Where the
hempen string terminated, a key was fastened. With this apparatus, on
the appearance of a thunder-gust approaching, he went out into the
commons, accompanied by his son, to whom alone he communicated his
intentions, well knowing the ridicule which, too generally for the
interest of science, awaits unsuccessful experiments in philosophy.
He placed himself under a shade, to avoid the rain--his kite was
raised--a thunder-cloud passed over it--no sign of electricity
appeared. He almost despaired of success, when, suddenly, he observed
the loose fibres of his string to move towards an erect position. He
now presented his knuckle to the key, and received a strong spark.
How exquisite must his sensations have been at this moment! On this
experiment depended the fate of his theory. If he succeeded, his
name would rank high among those who had improved science; if he
failed, he must inevitably be subjected to the derision of mankind,
or, what is worse, their pity, as a well-meaning man, but a weak,
silly projector. The anxiety with which he looked for the result
of his experiment, may be easily conceived. Doubts and despair
had begun to prevail, when the fact was ascertained in so clear a
manner, that even the most incredulous could no longer withhold
their assent.--Repeated sparks were drawn from the key, a phial
was charged, a shock given, and all the experiments made which are
usually performed with electricity.
About a month before this period, some ingenious Frenchman had
completed the discovery in the manner originally proposed by Dr.
Franklin. The letters which he sent to Mr. Collinson, it is said,
were refused a place in the Transactions of the Royal Society of
London. However this may be, Collinson published them in a separate
volume, under the title of "New Experiments and Observations on
Electricity, made at Philadelphia, in America." They were read
with avidity, and soon translated into different languages. A very
incorrect French translation fell into the hands of the celebrated
Buffon, who, notwithstanding the disadvantages under which the work
laboured, was much pleased with it, and repeated the experiments
with success. He prevailed on his friend, M. D'Alibard, to give his
countrymen a more correct translation of the works of the American
electrician. This contributed much towards spreading a knowledge
of Franklin's principles in France. The king, Louis XV., hearing
of these experiments, expressed a wish to be a spectator of them.
A course of experiments was given at the seat of the D'Ayen, at
St. Germain, by M. de Lor. The applauses which the king bestowed
upon Franklin, excited in Buffon, D'Alibard, and De Lor, an earnest
desire of ascertaining the truth of his theory of thunder-gusts.
Buffon erected his apparatus on the tower of Montbar, M. D'Alibard
at Marly-la-ville, and De Lor at his house in the _Estrapade_ at
Paris, some of the highest ground in that capital. D'Alibard's
machine first shewed signs of electricity. On the 10th of May, 1752,
a thunder cloud passed over it, in the absence of M. D'Alibard, and
a number of sparks were drawn from it by Coiffier, joiner, with whom
D'Alibard had left directions how to proceed, and by M. Raulet, the
prior of Marly-la-ville. An account of this experiment was given to
the Royal Academy of Sciences, by M. D'Alibard, in a Memoir dated May
13th, 1752. On the 18th of May, M. de Lor proved equally successful
with the apparatus erected at his own house. These philosophers soon
excited those of other parts of Europe to repeat the experiment;
amongst whom, none signalised themselves more than Father Beccaria,
of Turin, to whose observations science is much indebted. Even the
cold regions of Russia were penetrated by the ardor for discovery.
Professor Richman bade fair to add much to the stock of knowledge on
this subject, when an unfortunate flash from his conductor, put a
period to his existence. The friends of science will long remember
with regret, the amiable martyr to electricity.
By these experiments Franklin's theory was established in the
most convincing manner. When the truth of it could no longer
be doubted, envy and vanity endeavoured to detract from its
merit. That an American, an inhabitant of the obscure city of
Philadelphia, the name of which was hardly known, should be able
to make discoveries, and to frame theories, which had escaped
the notice of
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