THE DISPUTE.
Benjamin was intimate, at this time, with a youth by the name of John
Collins. He was intelligent, sprightly, and fond of books, so that he
was a very agreeable companion. They differed somewhat in their
opinions upon various subjects, and frequently found themselves
engaged in earnest disputation. When other boys were accustomed to
spend their time in foolish talking and jesting, Benjamin and John
were warmly discussing some question of importance, well suited to
improve the mind. One day their conversation related to the education
of the sexes.
"It would be a waste of money," said John, "to attempt to educate
girls as thoroughly as boys are educated; for the female sex are
inferior to the male in intellectual endowment."
"Pshaw!" exclaimed Benjamin; "you know better than that. The girls are
not so simple as you think they are. I believe that women are not a
whit inferior to men in their mental qualities."
"I should like to know where you discover the evidence of it?" replied
John. "There is no proof of it in the works they have written."
"That may be true, and still they stand upon an equality in respect to
intellect. For not half so much is done to educate them as there is to
educate the male sex. How can you tell whether they are mentally
inferior or not, until they are permitted to enjoy equal advantages?"
"As we tell many other things," answered John. "Women do not need so
high mental endowments as men, since they are not required to lead off
in the different branches of business, or to prosecute the sciences. I
can see no wisdom in bestowing talents upon them which they never use,
and it is often said that 'nothing is made in vain.'"
"Well, I must go," said Benjamin, "but I think you have a weak cause
to defend. If I had the time I could make out a case."
"A poor one, I guess," quickly added John. "We will see, the next time
we meet, who can make out a case."
"It will be some time before we meet again," responded Benjamin, "and
our ardour will be cooled before that time, I am thinking. But it will
do us no harm to discuss the subject."
"If we keep our temper," said John, tacking his sentence to the last
word of Benjamin's reply. And so saying, they parted.
After Benjamin had revolved the subject still more in his mind, he
became anxious to commit his argument to writing. Accordingly, with
pen and paper in hand, he sat down to frame the best argument he could
in favour of educating the female sex. He wrote it in the form of a
letter, addressed to his friend Collins, and, after having completed,
he copied it in a fair hand, and sent it to him. This brought back a
long reply, which made it necessary for Benjamin to pen an answer. In
this way the correspondence continued, until several letters had
passed between them, and each one had gained the victory in his own
estimation.
One day Benjamin's father met with these letters accidentally, and he
read them over, and was somewhat impressed with their character.
"What are these, Benjamin," he inquired, at the same time holding up
the letters.
Benjamin smiled, and rather hesitated to reply.
"So it seems you have been engaged in a controversy with John,"
continued Mr. Franklin. "You have both done very well, though I think
there is some chance of improvement yet."
"Have you read them all?" inquired Benjamin.
"I have, and must say that, in some respects, John has the advantage
of you."
"In what has he the advantage?" asked Benjamin, with some anxiety.
"Well, John writes in a more finished style than you do," answered Mr.
Franklin. "His expressions are more elegant, and there is more method
and perspicuity in his composition."
"I rather think you are prejudiced," said Benjamin, with a smile.
"_I_ rather think not," answered his father. "You have the advantage
of John in correct spelling, and in pointing your sentences, which is
the consequence of working in the printing-office. But I can convince
you that less method and clearness characterize your letters than
his."
"I am ready to be convinced," added Benjamin. "I hardly expect I have
attained perfection in writing yet."
His father then proceeded to read from the letters of each, with the
design of showing that John's writing was more perspicuous, and that
there was more method in his argument. Nor was it a very difficult
task.
"I am convinced," said Benjamin, before his father had read all he
intended to read. "I can make improvement in those points without much
trouble. There is certainly a good chance for it."
"That is what I want you should see," rejoined his father, "I am
really pleased with your letters, for they show me that you have
talents to improve. My only object in calling your attention to these
defects is to aid you in cultivating your mental powers."
This kind, paternal criticism was a very happy thing for Benjamin. It
had the effect to make him more careful in his compositions, and to
beget within him both a desire and resolve to improve. Not long after,
he met with an old volume of the Spectator, in a bookstore; and
knowing that it would be a good model by which to form the style, he
determined to purchase it. He bought it at a low price, and began to
study it with reference to improving the style of his composition. The
method which he adopted to discipline himself, by the aid of this
work, is proof of his patience, perseverance, and desire to excel. In
the first place, he read it over and over, until he became very well
acquainted with its contents. Then he took some of the papers it
contained, and made short hints of the sentiments of each sentence,
and laid them by for a few days; and then, without referring to the
book, he proceeded to put those thoughts into sentences, and thus went
through each paper,--a long and laborious work. When he had completed
a paper in this way, he carefully compared his Spectator with the
original, and was able thereby to discover and correct many errors in
his style. He found that he was very deficient in the command of
language.
"If you had not discouraged me in writing poetry," said he to his
father, "I should have found it of much service now."
"How so?" inquired Mr. Franklin.
"If I had continued to write poetry, I should have been obliged to
select words that would rhyme, and this would have made me familiar
with a larger number of words, and the choicest ones too. I am greatly
troubled now to find words to express my thoughts."
"I should have had no objections to your writing poetry with such an
object in view; but to print and sell it about town was carrying the
thing a little too far," replied Mr. Franklin. "It is not too late to
begin now. I rather think you have discovered an important defect in
your writing. John evidently has a better command of language than you
have, hence his style is more polished. But you are at work, now, in
the right way to improve. Perseverance will accomplish the thing."
"I am going to do this," said Benjamin; "I shall take some of the
tales in the book and put them into verse, and then, after a while,
change them back again."
"That will be a good exercise," answered his father, much pleased with
his son's desire to improve. "If your patience holds out, you will be
amply rewarded, in the end, for all your labour."
This last purpose, Benjamin executed with much zeal, and thus divided
his time between putting tales into poetry, and then turning them into
prose. He also jumbled his collection of hints into confusion, and so
let them lie for some weeks, when he would again reduce them to order,
and write out the sentences to the end of the subject.
For a printer-boy to accomplish so much, when he must work through the
day in the office, seemed hardly possible. But, at this period,
Benjamin allowed no moments to run to waste. He always kept a book by
him in the office, and every spare moment was employed over its pages.
In the morning, before he went to work, he found some time for reading
and study. He was an early riser, not, perhaps, because he had no
inclination to lie in bed, but because he had more to improve his
mind. He gained time enough in the morning, by this early rising, to
acquire more knowledge than some youths and young men do by constantly
going to school. In the evening, he found still more time for mental
improvement, extending his studies often far into the night. It was
his opinion that people generally consume more time than is necessary
in sleep, and one of his maxims, penned in early manhood, was founded
on that opinion. The maxim is, "The sleeping fox catches no poultry."
It is not strange that a boy who subjected himself to such close
discipline for a series of years should write some of the best maxims
upon this subject when he became a man. Take the following, in
addition to those cited in a former chapter:--
"There are no gains without pains; then help hands, for I have no
lands."
"Industry pays debts, while despair increaseth them."
"Never leave that till to-morrow which you can do to-day."
"Leisure is time for doing something useful."
"A life of leisure and a life of laziness are two things."
"Fly pleasures, and they will follow you. The diligent spinner has a
large shift, and, now I have a sheep and a cow, every one bids me
good-morrow."
"Be ashamed to catch yourself idle."
"Handle your tools without mittens; remember that the cat in gloves
catches no mice."
"There is much to be done, and perhaps you are weak-handed: but stick
to it steadily, and you will see great effects, for constant dropping
wears away stones; and by diligence and patience the mouse ate in two
the cable; and little strokes fell great oaks."
"Early to bed, and early to rise
Makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise."
Here is the genuine gold of thought,--whole volumes of counsel worked
down into single flashing lines of truth,--just such utterances as we
might expect from the lips of one who was early taught to walk in the
ways of wisdom. All along in the future of Benjamin's life, we shall
see these maxims illustrated, proving that they are living and bright
realities.
In order to prosecute his purposes, Benjamin took a step, at this
period, for which he censured himself long after. Being away from his
father's house, in a boarding-place provided by his brother, he
violated the Sabbath day by devoting its sacred hours to mental
improvement. At home, his parents had ever required that he should
attend public worship; but now he neglected the house of God, that he
might command the more time for study. It was a grave breach of a
divine commandment, and a disregard of parental authority, which he
afterwards deeply regretted. At the time, he was obliged to hold long
parleys with conscience, which told him that he ought still to visit
the sanctuary, and devote Sabbath hours to sacred duties. Yet his
great thirst for knowledge overcame his regard for holy time.
It must appear quite evident to the reader by this time, that Benjamin
derived much benefit from his conversation with John Collins upon a
useful topic. A large majority of boys, of their age, spend their
leisure moments in vain and useless talking. They think not of
self-improvement, and scarcely desire to be benefited in this way.
The most unmeaning and thoughtless words escape from their lips, and a
sound, sensible, valuable conversation they seldom, if ever, attempt.
What an excellent example is that of young Franklin and Collins,
discussing a question of importance, instead of wasting their breath
in meaningless chatter! It stimulated the former to consult the best
models of style in composition, and was the real occasion of his
adopting a most critical and thorough plan of self-culture. All this
the consequence of conversing properly, instead of spending leisure
moments in boyish antics, or uttering nonsense!
The reader need not infer that violation of the Sabbath, and disregard
of parental counsels, are less heinous sins than some would grant,
since Benjamin was guilty of both, and yet he did not go to ruin. For
ten boys who do the same things that he did are ruined thereby, where
one is saved. The father of Walter Scott forbade his reading
fictitious works, yet he concealed them in a sly place, and read them
when his father's eye was not upon him; and they served to stimulate
his mind to pursue a most brilliant literary career. In like manner,
Pope, the distinguished poet, strolled into the theatre in his
boyhood, when he was away from his parents at school, and there the
first aspiration of his soul for that sphere of mental effort in which
he became distinguished, was begotten. But these examples cannot be
cited in favour of novel-reading and theatre-going; for they are
exceptions to a general rule. The great mass of the youth who allow
themselves to be fascinated by the novel and theatre make shipwreck of
their hopes.