I now took leave of printing, as I thought, forever, and was daily

employed in my new business, going about with Mr. Denham among the

tradesmen to purchase various articles, and seeing them packed up,

doing errands, calling upon workmen to dispatch, etc.; and, when all

was on board, I had a few days' leisure. On one of these days, I was,

to my surprise, sent for by a great man I knew only by name, a Sir

William Wyndham, and I waited upon him. He had heard by some means or

other of my swimming from Chelsea to Blackfriar's, and of my teaching

Wygate and another young man to swim in a few hours. He had two sons

about to set out on their travels; he wished to have them first taught

swimming, and proposed to gratify[79] me handsomely if I would teach

them. They were not yet come to town, and my stay was uncertain, so I

could not undertake it; but from this incident I thought it likely

that, if I were to remain in England and open a swimming school, I

might get a good deal of money; and it struck me so strongly that, had

the overture been sooner made me, probably I should not so soon have

returned to America. After many years, you and I had something of more

importance to do with one of these sons of Sir William Wyndham, become

Earl of Egremont, which I shall mention in its place.

Thus I spent about eighteen months in London; most part of the time I

worked hard at my business, and spent but little upon myself except in

seeing plays and in books. My friend Ralph had kept me poor; he owed

me about twenty-seven pounds, which I was now never likely to

receive,--a great sum out of my small earnings! I loved him,

notwithstanding, for he had many amiable qualities. I had by no means

improved my fortune; but I had picked up some very ingenious

acquaintance, whose conversation was of great advantage to me; and I

had read considerably.

We sailed from Gravesend on the 23d of July, 1726. For the incidents

of the voyage I refer you to my journal, where you will find them all

minutely related. Perhaps the most important part of that journal is

the plan[80] to be found in it, which I formed at sea, for regulating

my future conduct in life. It is the more remarkable, as being formed

when I was so young, and yet being pretty faithfully adhered to quite

through to old age.

[Footnote 60: Responsible for the payment of a note.]

[Footnote 61: The owners or proprietors of Pennsylvania, which Charles

II. had given William Penn, were Penn's sons. They lived in England.]

[Footnote 62: A street in London.]

[Footnote 63: A pistole was a Spanish gold coin worth about four

dollars.]

[Footnote 64: A comedian of some note.]

[Footnote 65: A hackney writer, or hack writer, is one employed to

write according to direction.]

[Footnote 66: Inns of Court in London, occupied by lawyers.]

[Footnote 67: Setting type.]

[Footnote 68: A celebrated physician and naturalist. To him Franklin

wrote:

"SIR: Having lately been in the northern parts of America, I have

brought from thence a purse made of the asbestos, ... called by the

inhabitants 'salamander cotton.' As you are noted to be a lover of

curiosities, I have informed you of this; and if you have any

inclination to purchase or see it, let me know your pleasure by a line

for me at the Golden Fan, Little Britain, and I will wait upon you

with it. I am, sir, your most humble servant,

"B. FRANKLIN."

]

[Footnote 69: This press is now preserved at the Patent Office in

Washington.]

[Footnote 70: A French expression meaning "welcome."]

[Footnote 71: Pieces in a font of type.]

[Footnote 72: "A printing house used to be called a chapel by the

workmen, and a journeyman, on entering a printing house, was

accustomed to pay one or more gallons of beer 'for the good of the

chapel,'"--W. F. FRANKLIN, quoted by Bigelow.]

[Footnote 73: "Never making," etc., i.e., never making a holiday of

Monday. The heavy drinkers of Saturday night and Sunday needed Monday

to recover from their excesses.]

[Footnote 74: The woman who, according to legend, wiped the face of

Jesus on his way to Calvary, and carried away the likeness of his

face, which had been miraculously printed on the cloth.]

[Footnote 75: A suburb of London, north of the Thames.]

[Footnote 76: Don Saltero had been a servant to Sir Hans Sloane, and

had learned from him to treasure curiosities. He now had a coffeehouse

at Chelsea.]

[Footnote 77: A name given to a part of London. The distance Franklin

swam was about three miles.]

[Footnote 78: Settlement.]

[Footnote 79: Pay.]

[Footnote 80: This plan has never been found.]

4. IN PHILADELPHIA AND IN BUSINESS FOR HIMSELF.

We landed in Philadelphia on the 11th of October, where I found sundry

alterations. Keith was no longer governor, being superseded by Major

Gordon. I met him walking the streets as a common citizen. He seemed a

little ashamed at seeing me, but passed without saying anything. I

should have been as much ashamed at seeing Miss Read, had not her

friends, despairing with reason of my return after the receipt of my

letter, persuaded her to marry another, one Rogers, a potter, which

was done in my absence. With him, however, she was never happy, and

soon parted from him, refusing to bear his name, it being now said

that he had another wife. He was a worthless fellow, though an

excellent workman, which was the temptation to her friends. He got

into debt, ran away in 1727 or 1728, went to the West Indies, and died

there. Keimer had got a better house, a shop well supplied with

stationery, plenty of new types, a number of hands, though none good,

and seemed to have a great deal of business.

Mr. Denham took a store in Water Street, where we opened our goods; I

attended the business diligently, studied accounts, and grew, in a

little time, expert at selling. We lodged and boarded together; he

counseled me as a father, having a sincere regard for me. I respected

and loved him, and we might have gone on together very happy; but, in

the beginning of February, 1726/7,[81] when I had just passed my

twenty-first year, we were both taken ill. My distemper was a

pleurisy, which very nearly carried me off. I suffered a good deal,

gave up the point in my own mind, and was rather disappointed when I

found myself recovering, regretting, in some degree, that I must now,

some time or other, have all that disagreeable work to do over again.

I forget what his distemper was; it held him a long time, and at

length carried him off. He left me a small legacy in a nuncupative[82]

will, as a token of his kindness for me, and he left me once more to

the wide world; for the store was taken into the care of his

executors, and my employment under him ended.

My brother-in-law, Holmes, being now at Philadelphia, advised my

return to my business; and Keimer tempted me, with an offer of large

wages by the year, to come and take the management of his printing

house, that he might better attend his stationer's shop. I had heard a

bad character of him in London from his wife and her friends, and was

not fond of having any more to do with him. I tried for further

employment as a merchant's clerk; but, not readily meeting with any, I

closed again with Keimer. I found in his house these hands: Hugh

Meredith, a Welsh Pennsylvanian, thirty years of age, bred to country

work; honest, sensible, had a great deal of solid observation, was

something of a reader, but given to drink. Stephen Potts, a young

countryman of full age, bred to the same, of uncommon natural parts,

and great wit and humor, but a little idle. These he had agreed with

at extremely low wages per week, to be raised a shilling every three

months, as they would deserve by improving in their business; and the

expectation of these high wages, to come on hereafter, was what he had

drawn them in with. Meredith was to work at press, Potts at

bookbinding, which he, by agreement, was to teach them, though he knew

neither one nor the other. John ----, a wild Irishman, brought up to

no business, whose service, for four years, Keimer had purchased[83]

from the captain of a ship; he, too, was to be made a pressman. George

Webb, an Oxford scholar, whose time for four years he had likewise

bought, intending him for a compositor, of whom more presently; and

David Harry, a country boy, whom he had taken apprentice.

I soon perceived that the intention of engaging me at wages so much

higher than he had been used to give was to have these raw, cheap

hands formed through me; and, as soon as I had instructed them, then

they being all articled[84] to him, he should be able to do without

me. I went on, however, very cheerfully, put his printing house in

order, which had been in great confusion, and brought his hands by

degrees to mind their business and to do it better.

It was an odd thing to find an Oxford scholar in the situation of a

bought servant. He was not more than eighteen years of age, and gave me

this account of himself: he was born in Gloucester, educated at a

grammar school there, and had been distinguished among the scholars for

some apparent superiority in performing his part when they exhibited

plays. He belonged to the Witty Club there, and had written some pieces

in prose and verse, which were printed in the Gloucester newspapers.

Thence he was sent to Oxford, where he continued about a year, but not

well satisfied, wishing of all things to see London, and become a

player. At length, receiving his quarterly allowance of fifteen

guineas,[85] instead of discharging his debts he walked out of town, hid

his gown in a furze bush, and footed it to London, where, having no

friends to advise him, he fell into bad company, soon spent his guineas,

found no means of being introduced among the players, grew necessitous,

pawned his clothes, and wanted bread. Walking the street very hungry,

and not knowing what to do with himself, a crimp's[86] bill was put into

his hand, offering immediate entertainment and encouragement to such as

would bind themselves to serve in America. He went directly, signed the

indentures, was put into the ship, and came over, never writing a line

to acquaint his friends what was become of him. He was lively, witty,

good-natured, and a pleasant companion, but idle, thoughtless, and

imprudent to the last degree.

John, the Irishman, soon ran away; with the rest I began to live very

agreeably, for they all respected me the more as they found Keimer

incapable of instructing them, and that from me they learned something

daily. We never worked on Saturday, that being Keimer's Sabbath, so I

had two days for reading. My acquaintance with ingenious people in the

town increased. Keimer himself treated me with great civility and

apparent regard, and nothing now made me uneasy but my debt to Vernon,

which I was yet unable to pay, being hitherto but a poor economist.

He, however, kindly made no demand of it.

Our printing house often wanted sorts, and there was no letter founder

in America. I had seen types cast at James's in London, but without

much attention to the manner; however, I now contrived a mold, made

use of the letters we had as puncheons, struck the matrices[87] in

lead, and thus supplied in a pretty tolerable way all deficiencies. I

also engraved several things on occasion; I made the ink; I was

warehouseman,[88] and everything, and, in short, quite a factotum.

But, however serviceable I might be, I found that my services became

every day of less importance, as the other hands improved in the

business; and when Keimer paid my second quarter's wages he let me

know that he felt them too heavy, and thought I should make an

abatement. He grew by degrees less civil, put on more of the master,

frequently found fault, was captious, and seemed ready for an

outbreaking. I went on, nevertheless, with a good deal of patience,

thinking that his encumbered circumstances were partly the cause. At

length a trifle snapped our connections; for, a great noise happening

near the courthouse, I put my head out of the window to see what was

the matter. Keimer, being in the street, looked up and saw me, and

called out to me in a loud voice and angry tone to mind my business,

adding some reproachful words that nettled me the more for their

publicity, all the neighbors, who were looking out on the same

occasion, being witnesses how I was treated. He came up immediately

into the printing house; continued the quarrel; high words passed on

both sides. He gave me the quarter's warning we had stipulated,

expressing a wish that he had not been obliged to so long a warning. I

told him that his wish was unnecessary, for I would leave him that

instant; and so, taking my hat, walked out of doors, desiring

Meredith, whom I saw below, to take care of some things I left, and

bring them to my lodgings.

Meredith came accordingly in the evening, when we talked my affair

over. He had conceived a great regard for me, and was very unwilling

that I should leave the house while he remained in it. He dissuaded me

from returning to my native country, which I began to think of; he

reminded me that Keimer was in debt for all he possessed; that his

creditors began to be uneasy; that he kept his shop miserably, sold

often without profit for ready money, and often trusted without

keeping accounts; that he must therefore fail, which would make a

vacancy I might profit of. I objected my want of money. He then let me

know that his father had a high opinion of me, and, from some

discourse that had passed between them, he was sure would advance

money to set us up, if I would enter into partnership with him. "My

time," says he, "will be out with Keimer in the spring; by that time

we may have our press and types in from London. I am sensible I am no

workman; if you like it, your skill in the business shall be set

against the stock I furnish, and we will share the profits equally."

The proposal was agreeable, and I consented. His father was in town,

and approved of it, the more as he saw I had great influence with his

son, had prevailed on him to abstain long from dram drinking, and he

hoped might break him of that wretched habit entirely when we came to

be so closely connected. I gave an inventory to the father, who

carried it to a merchant; the things were sent for, the secret was to

be kept till they should arrive, and in the mean time I was to get

work, if I could, at the other printing house. But I found no vacancy

there, and so remained idle a few days, when Keimer, on a prospect of

being employed to print some paper money in New Jersey, which would

require cuts and various types that I only could supply, and

apprehending Bradford might engage me and get the job from him, sent

me a very civil message, that old friends should not part for a few

words, the effect of sudden passion, and wishing me to return.

Meredith persuaded me to comply, as it would give more opportunity for

his improvement under my daily instructions; so I returned, and we

went on more smoothly than for some time before. The New Jersey job

was obtained, I contrived a copperplate press for it, the first that

had been seen in the country; I cut several ornaments and checks[89]

for the bills. We went together to Burlington, where I executed the

whole to satisfaction; and he received so large a sum for the work as

to be enabled thereby to keep his head much longer above water.

At Burlington I made an acquaintance with many principal people of the

province. Several of them had been appointed by the Assembly a

committee to attend the press, and take care that no more bills were

printed than the law directed. They were therefore, by turns,

constantly with us, and generally he who attended brought with him a

friend or two for company. My mind having been much more improved by

reading than Keimer's, I suppose it was for that reason my

conversation seemed to be more valued. They had me to their houses,

introduced me to their friends, and showed me much civility; while he,

though the master, was a little neglected. In truth, he was an odd

fish; ignorant of common life, fond of rudely opposing received

opinions, slovenly to extreme dirtiness, enthusiastic in some points

of religion, and a little knavish withal.

We continued there near three months; and by that time I could reckon

among my acquired friends Judge Allen, Samuel Bustill, the secretary of

the province, Isaac Pearson, Joseph Cooper, and several of the Smiths,

members of Assembly, and Isaac Decow, the surveyor general. The latter

was a shrewd, sagacious old man, who told me that he began for himself,

when young, by wheeling clay for the brickmakers, learned to write after

he was of age, carried the chain for surveyors, who taught him

surveying, and he had now by his industry acquired a good estate; and

says he, "I foresee that you will soon work this man out of his

business, and make a fortune in it at Philadelphia." He had not then the

least intimation of my intention to set up there or anywhere. These

friends were afterward of great use to me, as I occasionally was to some

of them. They all continued their regard for me as long as they lived.

Before I enter upon my public appearance in business, it may be well

to let you know the then state of my mind with regard to my principles

and morals, that you may see how far those influenced the future

events of my life. My parents had early given me religious

impressions, and brought me through my childhood piously in the

Dissenting[90] way. But I was scarce fifteen when, after doubting by

turns of several points, as I found them disputed in the different

books I read, I began to doubt of revelation itself. Some books

against Deism[91] fell into my hands; they were said to be the

substance of sermons preached at Boyle's Lectures. It happened that

they wrought an effect on me quite contrary to what was intended by

them; for the arguments of the Deists, which were quoted to be

refuted, appeared to me much stronger than the refutations; in short,

I soon became a thorough Deist. My arguments perverted some others,

particularly Collins and Ralph; but, each of them having afterward

wronged me greatly without the least compunction, and recollecting

Keith's conduct toward me (who was another freethinker), and my own

toward Vernon and Miss Read, which at times gave me great trouble, I

began to suspect that this doctrine, though it might be true, was not

very useful. My London pamphlet, which had for its motto these lines

of Dryden:

"Whatever is, is right. Though purblind man

Sees but a part o' the chain, the nearest link:

His eyes not carrying to the equal beam

That poises all above;"[92]

and from the attributes of God, his infinite wisdom, goodness, and

power, concluded that nothing could possibly be wrong in the world,

and that vice and virtue were empty distinctions, no such things

existing, appeared now not so clever a performance as I once thought

it; and I doubted whether some error had not insinuated itself

unperceived into my argument, so as to infect all that followed, as is

common in metaphysical reasonings.

I grew convinced that truth, sincerity, and integrity in dealings

between man and man were of the utmost importance to the felicity of

life; and I formed 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 entertained an opinion that,

though certain actions might not be bad because they were forbidden by

it, or good because it commanded them, yet probably those 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 favorable

circumstances and situations, or all together,--preserved me, through

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 determined to preserve it.

We had not been long returned to Philadelphia before the new types

arrived 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, though 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, stopped 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 formed most of my ingenious acquaintance into a club of

mutual improvement, which we called the "Junto."[93] 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 discussed 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.[n]

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