town that were lovers of reading, with whom I spent my evenings very
pleasantly; and, gaining money by my industry and frugality, I lived
very agreeably, forgetting Boston as much as I could, and not desiring
that any there should know where I resided, except my friend Collins,
who was in my secret and kept it when I wrote to him. At length an
incident happened that sent me back again much sooner than I had
intended. I had a brother-in-law, Robert Holmes, master of a sloop
that traded between Boston and Delaware. He being at Newcastle, forty
miles below Philadelphia, heard there of me, and wrote me a letter,
mentioning the concern of my friends in Boston at my abrupt departure,
assuring me of their good will to me and that everything would be
accommodated to my mind if I would return, to which he exhorted me
very earnestly. I wrote an answer to his letter, thanked him for his
advice, but stated my reasons for quitting Boston fully and in such a
light as to convince him I was not so wrong as he had apprehended.
Sir William Keith, governor of the province, was then at Newcastle;
and Captain Holmes, happening to be in company with him when my letter
came to hand, spoke to him of me and showed him the letter. The
governor read it, and seemed surprised when he was told my age. He
said I appeared a young man of promising parts, and therefore should
be encouraged; the printers at Philadelphia were wretched ones; and,
if I would set up there, he made no doubt I should succeed; for his
part, he would procure me the public business, and do me every other
service in his power. This my brother-in-law afterward told me in
Boston, but I knew as yet nothing of it when, one day, Keimer and I
being at work together near the window, we saw the governor and
another gentleman (which proved to be Colonel French of Newcastle),
finely dressed, come directly across the street to our house, and
heard them at the door.
Keimer ran down immediately, thinking it a visit to him; but the
governor inquired for me, came up, and with a condescension and
politeness I had been quite unused to, made me many compliments,
desired to be acquainted with me, blamed me kindly for not having made
myself known to him when I first came to the place, and would have me
away with him to the tavern, where he was going with Colonel French to
taste, as he said, some excellent Madeira. I was not a little
surprised, and Keimer stared like a pig poisoned. I went, however,
with the governor and Colonel French to a tavern at the corner of
Third Street, and over the Madeira he proposed my setting up my
business, laid before me the probabilities of success, and both he and
Colonel French assured me I should have their interest and influence
in procuring the public business of both governments.[50] On my
doubting whether my father would assist me in it, Sir William said he
would give me a letter to him, in which he would state the advantages,
and he did not doubt of prevailing with him. So it was concluded I
should return to Boston in the first vessel, with the governor's
letter recommending me to my father. In the mean time the intention
was to be kept a secret, and I went on working with Keimer as usual,
the governor sending for me now and then to dine with him, a very
great honor I thought it, and conversing with me in the most affable,
familiar, and friendly manner imaginable.
About the end of April, 1724, a little vessel offered for Boston. I
took leave of Keimer as going to see my friends. The governor gave me
an ample letter, saying many flattering things of me to my father,
and strongly recommending the project of my setting up at Philadelphia
as a thing that must make my fortune. We struck on a shoal in going
down the bay, and sprung a leak; we had a blustering time at sea, and
were obliged to pump almost continually, at which I took my turn. We
arrived safe, however, at Boston in about a fortnight. I had been
absent seven months, and my friends had heard nothing of me; for my
brother Holmes was not yet returned, and had not written about me. My
unexpected appearance surprised the family; all were, however, very
glad to see me, and made me welcome, except my brother. I went to see
him at his printing house. I was better dressed than ever while in his
service, having a genteel new suit from head to foot, a watch, and my
pockets lined with near five pounds sterling in silver. He received me
not very frankly, looked me all over, and turned to his work again.
The journeymen were inquisitive where I had been, what sort of a
country it was, and how I liked it. I praised it much, and the happy
life I led in it, expressing strongly my intention of returning to it;
and one of them asking what kind of money we had there, I produced a
handful of silver and spread it before them, which was a kind of
raree-show[51] they had not been used to, paper being the money of
Boston. Then I took an opportunity of letting them see my watch; and
lastly (my brother still grum and sullen) I gave them a piece of
eight[52] to drink, and took my leave. This visit of mine offended him
extremely; for, when my mother some time after spoke to him of a
reconciliation, and of her wishes to see us on good terms together,
and that we might live for the future as brothers, he said I had
insulted him in such a manner before his people that he could never
forget or forgive it. In this, however, he was mistaken.
My father received the governor's letter with some apparent surprise,
but said little of it to me for several days, when, Captain Holmes
returning, he showed it to him, asked him if he knew Keith, and what
kind of man he was, adding his opinion that he must be of small
discretion to think of setting a boy up in business who wanted yet
three years of being at man's estate. Holmes said what he could in
favor of the project, but my father was clear in the impropriety of
it, and at last gave a flat denial to it. Then he wrote a civil letter
to Sir William, thanking him for the patronage he had so kindly
offered me, but declining to assist me as yet in setting up, I being,
in his opinion, too young to be trusted with the management of a
business so important, and for which the preparation must be so
expensive.
My friend and companion, Collins, who was a clerk in the post office,
pleased with the account I gave him of my new country, determined to
go thither also; and, while I waited for my father's determination, he
set out before me by land to Rhode Island, leaving his books, which
were a pretty collection of mathematics and natural philosophy, to
come with mine and me to New York, where he proposed to wait for me.
My father, though he did not approve Sir William's proposition, was
yet pleased that I had been able to obtain so advantageous a character
from a person of such note where I had resided, and that I had been so
industrious and careful as to equip myself so handsomely in so short a
time; therefore, seeing no prospect of an accommodation between my
brother and me, he gave his consent to my returning again to
Philadelphia, advised me to behave respectfully to the people there,
endeavor to obtain the general esteem, and avoid lampooning and
libeling, to which he thought I had too much inclination; telling me
that by steady industry and a prudent parsimony I might save enough by
the time I was one and twenty to set me up; and that, if I came near
the matter, he would help me out with the rest. This was all I could
obtain, except some small gifts as tokens of his and my mother's love,
when I embarked again for New York, now with their approbation and
their blessing.
The sloop putting in at Newport, Rhode Island, I visited my brother
John, who had been married and settled there some years. He received
me very affectionately, for he always loved me. A friend of his, one
Vernon, having some money due to him in Pennsylvania, about
thirty-five pounds currency, desired I would receive it for him, and
keep it till I had his directions what to remit it in. Accordingly, he
gave me an order. This afterward occasioned me a good deal of
uneasiness.
At Newport we took in a number of passengers for New York, among which
were two young women, companions, and a grave, sensible, matronlike
Quaker woman, with her attendants. I had shown an obliging readiness
to do her some little services, which impressed her, I suppose, with a
degree of good will toward me; therefore, when she saw a daily growing
familiarity between me and the two young women, which they appeared to
encourage, she took me aside, and said, "Young man, I am concerned for
thee, as thou hast no friend with thee, and seems not to know much of
the world, or of the snares youth is exposed to. Depend upon it, those
are very bad women; I can see it in all their actions; and if thee art
not upon thy guard, they will draw thee into some danger. They are
strangers to thee, and I advise thee, in a friendly concern for thy
welfare, to have no acquaintance with them." As I seemed at first not
to think so ill of them as she did, she mentioned some things she had
observed and heard that had escaped my notice, but now convinced me
she was right. I thanked her for her kind advice, and promised to
follow it. When we arrived at New York, they told me where they lived,
and invited me to come and see them; but I avoided it, and it was well
I did; for the next day the captain missed a silver spoon and some
other things, that had been taken out of his cabin, and he got a
warrant to search their lodgings, found the stolen goods, and had the
thieves punished. So, though we had escaped a sunken rock, which we
scraped upon in the passage, I thought this escape of rather more
importance to me.
At New York I found my friend Collins, who had arrived there some time
before me. We had been intimate from children, and had read the same
books together; but he had the advantage of more time for reading and
studying, and a wonderful genius for mathematical learning, in which
he far outstripped me. While I lived in Boston most of my hours of
leisure for conversation were spent with him, and he continued a sober
as well as an industrious lad, was much respected for his learning by
several of the clergy and other gentlemen, and seemed to promise
making a good figure in life. But, during my absence, he had acquired
a habit of sotting with brandy; and I found, by his own account, and
what I heard from others, that he had been drunk every day since his
arrival at New York, and behaved very oddly. He had gamed, too, and
lost his money, so that I was obliged to discharge his lodgings, and
defray his expenses to and at Philadelphia, which proved extremely
inconvenient to me.
The then governor of New York, Burnet (son of Bishop Burnet), hearing
from the captain that a young man, one of his passengers, had a great
many books, desired he would bring me to see him. I waited upon him
accordingly, and should have taken Collins with me but that he was not
sober. The governor treated me with great civility, showed me his
library, which was a very large one, and we had a good deal of
conversation about books and authors. This was the second governor who
had done me the honor to take notice of me; which, to a poor boy like
me, was very pleasing.
We proceeded to Philadelphia. I received on the way Vernon's money,
without which we could hardly have finished our journey. Collins
wished to be employed in some countinghouse; but, whether they
discovered his dramming by his breath or by his behavior, though he
had some recommendations he met with no success in any application,
and continued lodging and boarding at the same house with me and at my
expense. Knowing I had that money of Vernon's, he was continually
borrowing of me, still promising repayment as soon as he should be in
business. At length he had got so much of it that I was distressed to
think what I should do in case of being called on to remit it.
His drinking continued, about which we sometimes quarreled; for, when a
little intoxicated, he was very fractious. Once, in a boat on the
Delaware with some other young men, he refused to row in his turn. "I
will be rowed home," says he. "We will not row you," says I. "You must,
or stay all night on the water," says he; "just as you please." The
others said, "Let us row; what signifies it?" But, my mind being soured
with his other conduct, I continued to refuse. So he swore he would make
me row, or throw me overboard; and coming along, stepping on the
thwarts,[53] toward me, when he came up and struck at me I clutched him,
and, rising, pitched him headforemost into the river. I knew he was a
good swimmer, and so was under little concern about him; but before he
could get round to lay hold of the boat, we had with a few strokes
pulled her out of his reach; and ever when he drew near the boat, we
asked if he would row, striking a few strokes to slide her away from
him. He was ready to die with vexation, and obstinately would not
promise to row. However, seeing him at last beginning to tire, we lifted
him in and brought him home dripping wet in the evening. We hardly
exchanged a civil word afterward, and a West India captain, who had a
commission to procure a tutor for the sons of a gentleman at Barbadoes,
happening to meet with him, agreed to carry him thither. He left me
then, promising to remit me the first money he should receive in order
to discharge the debt; but I never heard of him after.
The breaking into this money of Vernon's was one of the first great
errata of my life; and this affair showed that my father was not much
out in his judgment when he supposed me too young to manage business
of importance. But Sir William, on reading his letter, said he was too
prudent. There was great difference in persons, and discretion did not
always accompany years, nor was youth always without it. "And since he
will not set you up," says he, "I will do it myself. Give me an
inventory of the things necessary to be had from England, and I will
send for them. You shall repay me when you are able; I am resolved to
have a good printer here, and I am sure you must succeed." This was
spoken with such an appearance of cordiality that I had not the least
doubt of his meaning what he said. I had hitherto kept the proposition
of my setting up a secret in Philadelphia, and I still kept it. Had it
been known that I depended on the governor, probably some friend that
knew him better would have advised me not to rely on him, as I
afterward heard it as his known character to be liberal of promises
which he never meant to keep. Yet, unsolicited as he was by me, how
could I think his generous offers insincere? I believed him one of the
best men in the world.[54]
I presented him an inventory of a little printing house, amounting, by
my computation, to about one hundred pounds sterling. He liked it, but
asked me if my being on the spot in England to choose the types, and
see that everything was good of the kind, might not be of some
advantage. "Then," says he, "when there you may make acquaintances,
and establish correspondences in the bookselling and stationery way."
I agreed that this might be advantageous. "Then," says he, "get
yourself ready to go with Annis,"[55] which was the annual ship, and
the only one at that time usually passing between London and
Philadelphia. But it would be some months before Annis sailed, so I
continued working with Keimer, fretting about the money Collins had
got from me, and in daily apprehensions of being called upon by
Vernon; which, however, did not happen for some years after.
I believe I have omitted mentioning that, in my first voyage from
Boston, being becalmed off Block Island, our people set about catching
cod, and hauled up a good many. Hitherto I had stuck to my resolution of
not eating animal food; and on this occasion I considered, with my
master Tryon, the taking every fish as a kind of unprovoked murder,
since none of them had, or ever could, do us any injury that might
justify the slaughter. All this seemed very reasonable; but I had
formerly been a great lover of fish, and when this came hot out of the
frying pan it smelled admirably well. I balanced some time between
principle and inclination, till I recollected that, when the fish were
opened, I saw smaller fish taken out of their stomachs; then thought I,
"If you eat one another, I don't see why we mayn't eat you." So I dined
upon cod very heartily, and continued to eat with other people,
returning only now and then occasionally to a vegetable diet. So
convenient a thing it is to be a "reasonable" creature, since it enables
one to find or make a reason for everything one has a mind to do.
Keimer and I lived on a pretty good, familiar footing, and agreed
tolerably well, for he suspected nothing of my setting up. He retained
a great deal of his old enthusiasms, and loved argumentation. We
therefore had many disputations. I used to work him so with my
Socratic method, and had trepanned[56] him so often by questions
apparently so distant from any point we had in hand and yet by degrees
led to the point, and brought him into difficulties and
contradictions, that at last he grew ridiculously cautious, and would
hardly answer me the most common question without asking first, "What
do you intend to infer from that?" However, it gave him so high an
opinion of my abilities in the confuting way that he seriously
proposed my being his colleague in a project he had of setting up a
new sect. He was to preach the doctrines, and I was to confound all
opponents. When he came to explain with me upon the doctrines, I found
several conundrums which I objected to, unless I might have my way a
little too, and introduce some of mine.
Keimer wore his beard at full length, because somewhere in the Mosaic
law it is said, "Thou shalt not mar the corners of thy beard."[57] He
likewise kept the seventh day Sabbath; and these two points were
essentials with him. I disliked both, but agreed to admit them upon
condition of his adopting the doctrine of using no animal food. "I
doubt," said he, "my constitution will not bear that." I assured him
it would, and that he would be better for it. He was usually a great
glutton, and I promised myself some diversion in half starving him. He
agreed to try the practice if I would keep him company. I did so, and
we held it for three months. We had our victuals dressed and brought
to us regularly by a woman in the neighborhood, who had from me a list
of forty dishes, to be prepared for us at different times, in all
which there was neither fish, flesh, nor fowl; and the whim suited me
the better at this time from the cheapness of it, not costing us above
eighteen pence sterling each per week. I have since kept several Lents
most strictly, leaving the common diet for that, and that for the
common, abruptly, without the least inconvenience, so that I think
there is little in the advice of making those changes by easy
gradations. I went on pleasantly, but poor Keimer suffered grievously,
tired of the project, longed for the flesh pots of Egypt, and ordered
a roast pig. He invited me and two women friends to dine with him;
but, it being brought too soon upon table, he could not resist the
temptation, and ate the whole before we came.
I had made some courtship during this time to Miss Read. I had a great
respect and affection for her, and had some reason to believe she had
the same for me; but, as I was about to take a long voyage, and we
were both very young,--only a little above eighteen,--it was thought
most prudent by her mother to prevent our going too far at present, as
a marriage, if it was to take place, would be more convenient after my
return, when I should be, as I expected, set up in my business.
Perhaps, too, she thought my expectations not so well founded as I
imagined them to be.
My chief acquaintances at this time were Charles Osborne, Joseph
Watson, and James Ralph, all lovers of reading. The two first were
clerks to an eminent scrivener or conveyancer in the town, Charles
Brogden; the other was clerk to a merchant. Watson was a pious,
sensible young man, of great integrity; the others rather more lax in
their principles of religion, particularly Ralph, who, as well as
Collins, had been unsettled by me, for which they both made me
suffer. Osborne was sensible, candid, frank; sincere and affectionate
to his friends, but, in literary matters, too fond of criticising.
Ralph was ingenious, genteel in his manners, and extremely eloquent; I
think I never knew a prettier talker. Both of them were great admirers
of poetry, and began to try their hands in little pieces. Many
pleasant walks we four had together on Sundays into the woods, near
Schuylkill, where we read to one another and conferred on what we read.
Ralph was inclined to pursue the study of poetry, not doubting but he
might become eminent in it, and make his fortune by it, alleging that
the best poets must, when they first began to write, make as many
faults as he did. Osborne dissuaded him, assured him he had no genius
for poetry, and advised him to think of nothing beyond the business he
was bred to; that, in the mercantile way, though he had no stock, he
might, by his diligence and punctuality, recommend himself to
employment as a factor,[58] and in time acquire wherewith to trade on
his own account. I approved the amusing one's self with poetry now and
then, so far as to improve one's language, but no farther.
On this it was proposed that we should each of us, at our next
meeting, produce a piece of our own composing, in order to improve by
our mutual observations, criticisms, and corrections. As language and
expression were what we had in view, we excluded all considerations of
invention by agreeing that the task should be a version of the
eighteenth Psalm, which describes the descent of Deity. When the time
of our meeting grew nigh, Ralph called on me first, and let me know
his piece was ready. I told him I had been busy, and, having little
inclination, had done nothing. He then showed me his piece for my
opinion, and I much approved it, as it appeared to me to have great
merit. "Now," says he, "Osborne never will allow the least merit in
anything of mine, but makes a thousand criticisms out of mere envy. He
is not so jealous of you; I wish, therefore, you would take this
piece, and produce it as yours; I will pretend not to have had time,
and so produce nothing. We shall then see what he will say to it." It
was agreed, and I immediately transcribed it that it might appear in
my own hand.
We met; Watson's performance was read; there were some beauties in it,
but many defects. Osborne's was read; it was much better; Ralph did it
justice; remarked some faults, but applauded the beauties. He himself
had nothing to produce. I was backward; seemed desirous of being
excused; had not had sufficient time to correct, etc. But no excuse
would be admitted; produce I must. It was read and repeated; Watson
and Osborne gave up the contest, and joined in applauding it. Ralph
only made some criticisms, and proposed some amendments; but I
defended my text. Osborne was against Ralph, and told him he was no
better a critic than poet, so he dropped the argument. As they two
went home together, Osborne expressed himself still more strongly in
favor of what he thought my production, having restrained himself
before, as he said, lest I should think it flattery. "But who would
have imagined," said he, "that Franklin had been capable of such a
performance; such painting, such force, such fire! He has even
improved the original. In his common conversation he seems to have no
choice of words; he hesitates and blunders; and yet, good heavens! how
he writes!" When we next met, Ralph discovered the trick we had played
him, and Osborne was a little laughed at.
This transaction fixed Ralph in his resolution of becoming a poet. I
did all I could to dissuade him from it, but he continued scribbling
verses till Pope cured him.[59] He became, however, a pretty good
prose writer. More of him hereafter. But, as I may not have occasion
again to mention the other two, I shall just remark here that Watson
died in my arms a few years after, much lamented, being the best of
our set. Osborne went to the West Indies, where he became an eminent
lawyer and made money, but died young. He and I had made a serious
agreement that the one who happened first to die should, if possible,
make a friendly visit to the other, and acquaint him how he found
things in that separate state. But he never fulfilled his promise.