power, concluded that nothing could possibly be wrong in the world,
and that vice and virtue were empty distinctions, no such things
existing, appear'd now not so clever a performance as I once thought
it; and I doubted whether some error had not insinuated itself
unperceiv'd into my argument, so as to infect all that follow'd, as is
common in metaphysical reasonings.
[52] The creed of an eighteenth century theological sect
which, while believing in God, refused to credit the
possibility of miracles and to acknowledge the validity
of revelation.
[53] A great English poet, dramatist, and critic
(1631-1700). The lines are inaccurately quoted from
Dryden's OEdipus, Act III, Scene I, line 293.
I grew convinc'd that _truth_, _sincerity_ and _integrity_ in dealings
between man and man were of the utmost importance to the felicity of
life; and I form'd written resolutions, which still remain in my
journal book, to practice them ever while I lived. Revelation had
indeed no weight with me, as such; but I entertain'd an opinion that,
though certain actions might not be bad _because_ they were forbidden
by it, or good _because_ it commanded them, yet probably these actions
might be forbidden _because_ they were bad for us, or commanded
_because_ they were beneficial to us, in their own natures, all the
circumstances of things considered. And this persuasion, with the kind
hand of Providence, or some guardian angel, or accidental favourable
circumstances and situations, or all together, preserved me, thro'
this dangerous time of youth, and the hazardous situations I was
sometimes in among strangers, remote from the eye and advice of my
father, without any willful gross immorality or injustice, that might
have been expected from my want of religion. I say willful, because
the instances I have mentioned had something of _necessity_ in them,
from my youth, inexperience, and the knavery of others. I had
therefore a tolerable character to begin the world with; I valued it
properly, and determin'd to preserve it.
We had not been long return'd to Philadelphia before the new types
arriv'd from London. We settled with Keimer, and left him by his
consent before he heard of it. We found a house to hire near the
market, and took it. To lessen the rent, which was then but
twenty-four pounds a year, tho' I have since known it to let for
seventy, we took in Thomas Godfrey, a glazier, and his family, who
were to pay a considerable part of it to us, and we to board with
them. We had scarce opened our letters and put our press in order,
before George House, an acquaintance of mine, brought a countryman to
us, whom he had met in the street inquiring for a printer. All our
cash was now expended in the variety of particulars we had been
obliged to procure, and this countryman's five shillings, being our
first-fruits, and coming so seasonably, gave me more pleasure than any
crown I have since earned; and the gratitude I felt toward House has
made me often more ready than perhaps I should otherwise have been to
assist young beginners.
There are croakers in every country, always boding its ruin. Such a
one then lived in Philadelphia; a person of note, an elderly man, with
a wise look and a very grave manner of speaking; his name was Samuel
Mickle. This gentleman, a stranger to me, stopt one day at my door,
and asked me if I was the young man who had lately opened a new
printing-house. Being answered in the affirmative, he said he was
sorry for me, because it was an expensive undertaking, and the expense
would be lost; for Philadelphia was a sinking place, the people
already half-bankrupts, or near being so; all appearances to the
contrary, such as new buildings and the rise of rents, being to his
certain knowledge fallacious; for they were, in fact, among the things
that would soon ruin us. And he gave me such a detail of misfortunes
now existing, or that were soon to exist, that he left me half
melancholy. Had I known him before I engaged in this business,
probably I never should have done it. This man continued to live in
this decaying place, and to declaim in the same strain, refusing for
many years to buy a house there, because all was going to
destruction; and at last I had the pleasure of seeing him give five
times as much for one as he might have bought it for when he first
began his croaking.
I should have mentioned before, that, in the autumn of the preceding
year, I had form'd most of my ingenious acquaintance into a club of
mutual improvement, which was called the Junto;[54] we met on Friday
evenings. The rules that I drew up required that every member, in his
turn, should produce one or more queries on any point of Morals,
Politics, or Natural Philosophy, to be discuss'd by the company; and
once in three months produce and read an essay of his own writing, on
any subject he pleased. Our debates were to be under the direction of
a president, and to be conducted in the sincere spirit of inquiry
after truth, without fondness for dispute, or desire of victory; and,
to prevent warmth, all expressions of positiveness in opinions, or
direct contradiction, were after some time made contraband, and
prohibited under small pecuniary penalties.
[54] A Spanish term meaning a combination for political
intrigue; here a club or society.
The first members were Joseph Breintnal, a copyer of deeds for the
scriveners, a good-natur'd, friendly middle-ag'd man, a great lover
of poetry, reading all he could meet with, and writing some that was
tolerable; very ingenious in many little Nicknackeries, and of
sensible conversation.
Thomas Godfrey, a self-taught mathematician, great in his way, and
afterward inventor of what is now called Hadley's Quadrant. But he
knew little out of his way, and was not a pleasing companion; as, like
most great mathematicians I have met with, he expected universal
precision in everything said, or was forever denying or distinguishing
upon trifles, to the disturbance of all conversation. He soon left us.
Nicholas Scull, a surveyor, afterwards surveyor-general, who lov'd
books, and sometimes made a few verses.
William Parsons, bred a shoemaker, but, loving reading, had acquir'd a
considerable share of mathematics, which he first studied with a view
to astrology, that he afterwards laught at it. He also became
surveyor-general.
William Maugridge, a joiner, a most exquisite mechanic, and a solid,
sensible man.
Hugh Meredith, Stephen Potts, and George Webb I have characteriz'd
before.
Robert Grace, a young gentleman of some fortune, generous, lively, and
witty; a lover of punning and of his friends.
And William Coleman, then a merchant's clerk, about my age, who had
the coolest, clearest head, the best heart, and the exactest morals of
almost any man I ever met with. He became afterwards a merchant of
great note, and one of our provincial judges. Our friendship continued
without interruption to his death, upwards of forty years; and the
club continued almost as long, and was the best school of philosophy,
morality, and politics that then existed in the province; for our
queries, which were read the week preceding their discussion, put us
upon reading with attention upon the several subjects, that we might
speak more to the purpose; and here, too, we acquired better habits of
conversation, everything being studied in our rules which might
prevent our disgusting each other. From hence the long continuance of
the club, which I shall have frequent occasion to speak further of
hereafter.
But my giving this account of it here is to show something of the
interest I had, everyone of these exerting themselves in recommending
business to us. Breintnal particularly procur'd us from the Quakers
the printing forty sheets of their history, the rest being to be done
by Keimer; and upon this we work'd exceedingly hard, for the price was
low. It was a folio, pro patria size, in pica, with long primer
notes.[55] I compos'd of it a sheet a day, and Meredith worked it off
at press; it was often eleven at night, and sometimes later, before I
had finished my distribution for the next day's work, for the little
jobbs sent in by our other friends now and then put us back. But so
determin'd I was to continue doing a sheet a day of the folio, that
one night, when, having impos'd[56] my forms, I thought my day's work
over, one of them by accident was broken, and two pages reduced to
pi,[57] I immediately distribut'd and composed it over again before I
went to bed; and this industry, visible to our neighbors, began to
give us character and credit; particularly, I was told, that mention
being made of the new printing-office at the merchants' Every-night
club, the general opinion was that it must fail, there being already
two printers in the place, Keimer and Bradford; but Dr. Baird (whom
you and I saw many years after at his native place, St. Andrew's in
Scotland) gave a contrary opinion: "For the industry of that
Franklin," says he, "is superior to anything I ever saw of the kind; I
see him still at work when I go home from club, and he is at work
again before his neighbors are out of bed." This struck the rest, and
we soon after had offers from one of them to supply us with
stationery; but as yet we did not chuse to engage in shop business.
[55] A sheet 8-1/2 by 13-1/2 inches, having the words
_pro patria_ in translucent letters in the body of the
paper. Pica--a size of type; as, A B C D: Long Primer--a
smaller size of type; as, A B C D.
[56] To arrange and lock up pages or columns of type in a
rectangular iron frame, ready for printing.
[57] Reduced to complete disorder.
I mention this industry the more particularly and the more freely,
tho' it seems to be talking in my own praise, that those of my
posterity, who shall read it, may know the use of that virtue, when
they see its effects in my favour throughout this relation.
George Webb, who had found a female friend that lent him wherewith to
purchase his time of Keimer, now came to offer himself as a
journeyman to us. We could not then employ him; but I foolishly let
him know as a secret that I soon intended to begin a newspaper, and
might then have work for him. My hopes of success, as I told him, were
founded on this, that the then only newspaper, printed by Bradford,
was a paltry thing, wretchedly manag'd, no way entertaining, and yet
was profitable to him; I therefore thought a good paper would scarcely
fail of good encouragement. I requested Webb not to mention it; but he
told it to Keimer, who immediately, to be beforehand with me,
published proposals for printing one himself, on which Webb was to be
employ'd. I resented this; and, to counteract them, as I could not yet
begin our paper, I wrote several pieces of entertainment for
Bradford's paper, under the title of the Busy Body, which Breintnal
continu'd some months. By this means the attention of the publick was
fixed on that paper, and Keimer's proposals, which we burlesqu'd and
ridicul'd, were disregarded. He began his paper, however, and, after
carrying it on three quarters of a year, with at most only ninety
subscribers, he offered it to me for a trifle; and I, having been
ready some time to go on with it, took it in hand directly; and it
prov'd in a few years extremely profitable to me.
I perceive that I am apt to speak in the singular number, though our
partnership still continu'd; the reason may be that, in fact, the
whole management of the business lay upon me. Meredith was no
compositor, a poor pressman, and seldom sober. My friends lamented my
connection with him, but I was to make the best of it.
[Illustration: "I see him still at work when I go home from club"]
Our first papers made a quite different appearance from any before in
the province; a better type, and better printed; but some spirited
remarks of my writing, on the dispute then going on between Governor
Burnet and the Massachusetts Assembly, struck the principal people,
occasioned the paper and the manager of it to be much talk'd of, and
in a few weeks brought them all to be our subscribers.
Their example was follow'd by many, and our number went on growing
continually. This was one of the first good effects of my having
learnt a little to scribble; another was, that the leading men, seeing
a newspaper now in the hands of one who could also handle a pen,
thought it convenient to oblige and encourage me. Bradford still
printed the votes, and laws, and other publick business. He had
printed an address of the House to the governor, in a coarse,
blundering manner; we reprinted it elegantly and correctly, and sent
one to every member. They were sensible of the difference: it
strengthened the hands of our friends in the House, and they voted us
their printers for the year ensuing.
Among my friends in the House I must not forget Mr. Hamilton, before
mentioned, who was then returned from England, and had a seat in it.
He interested himself for me strongly in that instance, as he did in
many others afterward, continuing his patronage till his death.[58]
[58] I got his son once £500.--_Marg. note_.
Mr. Vernon, about this time, put me in mind of the debt I ow'd him,
but did not press me. I wrote him an ingenuous letter of
acknowledgment, crav'd his forbearance a little longer, which he
allow'd me, and as soon as I was able, I paid the principal with
interest, and many thanks; so that erratum was in some degree
corrected.
But now another difficulty came upon me which I had never the least
reason to expect. Mr. Meredith's father, who was to have paid for our
printing-house, according to the expectations given me, was able to
advance only one hundred pounds currency, which had been paid; and a
hundred more was due to the merchant, who grew impatient, and su'd us
all. We gave bail, but saw that, if the money could not be rais'd in
time, the suit must soon come to a judgment and execution, and our
hopeful prospects must, with us, be ruined, as the press and letters
must be sold for payment, perhaps at half price.
In this distress two true friends, whose kindness I have never
forgotten, nor ever shall forget while I can remember any thing, came
to me separately, unknown to each other, and, without any application
from me, offering each of them to advance me all the money that should
be necessary to enable me to take the whole business upon myself, if
that should be practicable; but they did not like my continuing the
partnership with Meredith, who, as they said, was often seen drunk in
the streets, and playing at low games in alehouses, much to our
discredit. These two friends were William Coleman and Robert Grace. I
told them I could not propose a separation while any prospect remain'd
of the Meredith's fulfilling their part of our agreement, because I
thought myself under great obligations to them for what they had done,
and would do if they could; but, if they finally fail'd in their
performance, and our partnership must be dissolv'd, I should then
think myself at liberty to accept the assistance of my friends.
Thus the matter rested for some time, when I said to my partner,
"Perhaps your father is dissatisfied at the part you have undertaken
in this affair of ours, and is unwilling to advance for you and me
what he would for you alone. If that is the case, tell me, and I will
resign the whole to you, and go about my business." "No," said he, "my
father has really been disappointed, and is really unable; and I am
unwilling to distress him farther. I see this is a business I am not
fit for. I was bred a farmer, and it was a folly in me to come to
town, and put myself, at thirty years of age, an apprentice to learn a
new trade. Many of our Welsh people are going to settle in North
Carolina, where land is cheap. I am inclin'd to go with them, and
follow my old employment. You may find friends to assist you. If you
will take the debts of the company upon you; return to my father the
hundred pounds he has advanced; pay my little personal debts, and give
me thirty pounds and a new saddle, I will relinquish the partnership,
and leave the whole in your hands." I agreed to this proposal: it was
drawn up in writing, sign'd, and seal'd immediately. I gave him what
he demanded, and he went soon after to Carolina, from whence he sent
me next year two long letters, containing the best account that had
been given of that country, the climate, the soil, husbandry, etc.,
for in those matters he was very judicious. I printed them in the
papers, and they gave great satisfaction to the publick.
As soon as he was gone, I recurr'd to my two friends; and because I
would not give an unkind preference to either, I took half of what
each had offered and I wanted of one, and half of the other; paid off
the company's debts, and went on with the business in my own name,
advertising that the partnership was dissolved. I think this was in or
about the year 1729.
VIII
BUSINESS SUCCESS AND FIRST
PUBLIC SERVICE
About this time there was a cry among the people for more paper money,
only fifteen thousand pounds being extant in the province, and that
soon to be sunk.[59] The wealthy inhabitants oppos'd any addition,
being against all paper currency, from an apprehension that it would
depreciate, as it had done in New England, to the prejudice of all
creditors. We had discuss'd this point in our Junto, where I was on
the side of an addition, being persuaded that the first small sum
struck in 1723 had done much good by increasing the trade, employment,
and number of inhabitants in the province, since I now saw all the old
houses inhabited, and many new ones building: whereas I remembered
well, that when I first walk'd about the streets of Philadelphia,
eating my roll, I saw most of the houses in Walnut Street, between
Second and Front streets,[60] with bills on their doors, "To be let";
and many likewise in Chestnut-street and other streets, which made me
then think the inhabitants of the city were deserting it one after
another.
[59] Recalled to be redeemed.
[60] This part of Philadelphia is now the center of the
wholesale business district.
Our debates possess'd me so fully of the subject, that I wrote and
printed an anonymous pamphlet on it, entitled "_The Nature and
Necessity of a Paper Currency_." It was well receiv'd by the common
people in general; but the rich men dislik'd it, for it increas'd and
strengthen'd the clamor for more money, and they happening to have no
writers among them that were able to answer it, their opposition
slacken'd, and the point was carried by a majority in the House. My
friends there, who conceiv'd I had been of some service, thought fit
to reward me by employing me in printing the money; a very profitable
jobb and a great help to me. This was another advantage gain'd by my
being able to write.
The utility of this currency became by time and experience so evident
as never afterwards to be much disputed; so that it grew soon to
fifty-five thousand pounds, and in 1739 to eighty thousand pounds,
since which it arose during war to upwards of three hundred and fifty
thousand pounds, trade, building, and inhabitants all the while
increasing, tho' I now think there are limits beyond which the
quantity may be hurtful.[61]
[61] Paper money is a promise to pay its face value in
gold or silver. When a state or nation issues more such
promises than there is a likelihood of its being able to
redeem, the paper representing the promises depreciates
in value. Before the success of the Colonies in the
Revolution was assured, it took hundreds of dollars of
their paper money to buy a pair of boots.
I soon after obtain'd, thro' my friend Hamilton, the printing of the
Newcastle paper money, another profitable jobb as I then thought it;
small things appearing great to those in small circumstances; and
these, to me, were really great advantages, as they were great
encouragements. He procured for me, also, the printing of the laws and
votes of that government, which continu'd in my hands as long as I
follow'd the business.
I now open'd a little stationer's shop. I had in it blanks of all
sorts, the correctest that ever appear'd among us, being assisted in
that by my friend Breintnal. I had also paper, parchment, chapmen's
books, etc. One Whitemash, a compositor I had known in London, an
excellent workman, now came to me, and work'd with me constantly and
diligently; and I took an apprentice, the son of Aquilla Rose.
[Illustration: "I sometimes brought home the paper I purchas'd at the
stores thro' the streets on a wheelbarrow"]
I began now gradually to pay off the debt I was under for the
printing-house. In order to secure my credit and character as a
tradesman, I took care not only to be in _reality_ industrious and
frugal, but to avoid all appearances to the contrary. I drest plainly;
I was seen at no places of idle diversion. I never went out a fishing
or shooting; a book, indeed, sometimes debauch'd me from my work, but
that was seldom, snug, and gave no scandal; and, to show that I was
not above my business, I sometimes brought home the paper I purchas'd
at the stores thro' the streets on a wheelbarrow. Thus being esteem'd
an industrious, thriving young man, and paying duly for what I bought,
the merchants who imported stationery solicited my custom; others
proposed supplying me with books, and I went on swimmingly. In the
meantime, Keimer's credit and business declining daily, he was at last
forc'd to sell his printing-house to satisfy his creditors. He went to
Barbadoes, and there lived some years in very poor circumstances.
His apprentice, David Harry, whom I had instructed while I work'd with
him, set up in his place at Philadelphia, having bought his materials.
I was at first apprehensive of a powerful rival in Harry, as his
friends were very able, and had a good deal of interest. I therefore
propos'd a partnership to him, which he, fortunately for me, rejected
with scorn. He was very proud, dress'd like a gentleman, liv'd
expensively, took much diversion and pleasure abroad, ran in debt, and
neglected his business; upon which, all business left him; and,
finding nothing to do, he followed Keimer to Barbadoes, taking the
printing-house with him. There this apprentice employ'd his former
master as a journeyman; they quarrell'd often; Harry went continually
behindhand, and at length was forc'd to sell his types and return to
his country work in Pennsylvania. The person that bought them employ'd
Keimer to use them, but in a few years he died.
There remained now no competitor with me at Philadelphia but the old
one, Bradford; who was rich and easy, did a little printing now and
then by straggling hands, but was not very anxious about the business.
However, as he kept the post-office, it was imagined he had better
opportunities of obtaining news; his paper was thought a better
distributer of advertisements than mine, and therefore had many more,
which was a profitable thing to him, and a disadvantage to me; for,
tho' I did indeed receive and send papers by the post, yet the publick
opinion was otherwise, for what I did send was by bribing the riders,
who took them privately, Bradford being unkind enough to forbid it,
which occasion'd some resentment on my part; and I thought so meanly
of him for it, that, when I afterward came into his situation, I took
care never to imitate it.