scriveners, a good-natured, friendly, middle-aged man, a great lover
of poetry, reading all he could meet with, and writing some that was
tolerable; very ingenious in many little knick-knackeries, 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.[94] 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,
afterward surveyor general, who loved books, and sometimes made a few
verses. William Parsons, bred a shoemaker, but loving reading, had
acquired a considerable share of mathematics, which he first studied
with a view to astrology that he afterward laughed at. 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 characterized 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 afterward a merchant of great note, and one of our provincial
judges. Our friendship continued without interruption to his death,
upward 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, every one of these exerting themselves in recommending
business to us. Breintnal particularly procured us from the Quakers
the printing forty sheets of their history, the rest being to be done
by Keimer; and upon this we worked exceedingly hard, for the price was
low. It was a folio, pro patria size, in pica, with long primer notes.
I composed 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[95] for the next day's work, for the little
jobs sent in by our other friends now and then put us back. But so
determined I was to continue doing a sheet a day of the folio that one
night, when, having imposed[96] my forms, I thought my day's work
over, one of them by accident was broken, and two pages reduced to
pi,[97] I immediately distributed 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 choose to engage in shop business.
I mention this industry the more particularly and the more freely,
though 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 favor 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 managed, 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 this; 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 employed.
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 continued some
months. By this means the attention of the public was fixed on that
paper, and Keimer's proposals, which were burlesqued and ridiculed,
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 proved in a few years
extremely profitable to me.[98]
I perceive that I am apt to speak in the singular number, though our
partnership still continued; 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.
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[99] 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 talked
of, and in a few weeks brought them all to be our subscribers.
Their example was followed by many, and our number went on growing
continually. This was one of the first good effects of my having
learned a little to scribble;[n] 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 public 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.[100]
Mr. Vernon, about this time, put me in mind of the debt I owed him, but
did not press me. I wrote him an ingenuous letter of acknowledgment,
craved his forbearance a little longer, which he allowed me, and as soon
as I was able I paid the principle, 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 sued us
all. We gave bail, but saw that, if the money could not be raised 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 anything, 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 remained
of the Merediths' 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 failed in their
performance, and our partnership must be dissolved, 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 further. 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 inclined 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, signed, and sealed 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 public.
As soon as he was gone, I recurred 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.
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. The wealthy inhabitants opposed 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 discussed 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 walked about the streets of Philadelphia,
eating my roll, I saw most of the houses in Walnut Street, between
Second and Front Streets, 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.
Our debates possessed 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 received by the common
people in general; but the rich men disliked it, for it increased and
strengthened the clamor for more money, and they, happening to have no
writers among them that were able to answer it, their opposition
slackened, and the point was carried by a majority in the House. My
friends there, who conceived I had been of some service, thought fit
to reward me by employing me in printing the money,--a very profitable
job and a great help to me. This was another advantage gained by my
being able to write.
The utility of this currency became by time and experience so evident
as never afterward to be much disputed; so that it grew soon to
fifty-five thousand pounds, and in 1739 to eighty thousand pounds,
since which it rose during war to upward of three hundred and fifty
thousand pounds, trade, building, and inhabitants all the while
increasing, though I now think there are limits, beyond which the
quantity may be hurtful.[101]
I soon after obtained, through my friend Hamilton, the printing of the
Newcastle paper money, another profitable job, 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,[102] which continued in my hands as long as
I followed the business.
I now opened a little stationer's shop. I had in it blanks of all
sorts, the correctest that ever appeared 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 worked with me constantly and
diligently; and I took an apprentice, the son of Aquila Rose.
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 dressed plainly; I was seen
at no places of idle diversion; I never went out a-fishing or
shooting; a book, indeed, sometimes debauched me from my work, but
that was seldom, snug,[103] and gave no scandal; and, to show that I
was not above my business, I sometimes brought home the paper I
purchased at the stores through the streets on a wheelbarrow. Thus,
being esteemed 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 mean time, Keimer's credit and business declining
daily, he was at last forced 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 worked 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
proposed a partnership to him, which he, fortunately for me, rejected
with scorn. He was very proud, dressed like a gentleman, lived
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 employed his former
master as a journeyman; they quarreled often; Harry went continually
behindhand, and at length was forced to sell his types and return to
his country work in Pennsylvania. The person that bought them employed
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,
though I did indeed receive and send papers by post, yet the public
opinion was otherwise, for what I did send was by bribing the
riders,[104] who took them privately, Bradford being unkind enough to
forbid it, which occasioned 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.
I had hitherto continued to board with Godfrey, who lived in part of
my house with his wife and children, and had one side of the shop for
his glazier's business, though he worked little, being always absorbed
in his mathematics. Mrs. Godfrey projected a match for me with a
relation's daughter, and took opportunities of bringing us often
together, till a serious courtship on my part ensued, the girl being
in herself very deserving. The old folks encouraged me by continual
invitations to supper, and by leaving us together, till at length it
was time to explain. Mrs. Godfrey managed our little treaty. I let her
know that I expected as much money[n] with their daughter as would pay
off my remaining debt for the printing house, which I believe was then
above a hundred pounds. She brought me word they had no such sum to
spare. I said they might mortgage their house in the loan office. The
answer to this, after some days, was that they did not approve the
match; that, on inquiry of Bradford, they had been informed the
printing business was not a profitable one; the types would soon be
worn out and more wanted; that S. Keimer and D. Harry had failed one
after the other, and I should probably soon follow them; and therefore
I was forbidden the house, and the daughter shut up.
Whether this was a real change of sentiment, or only artifice, on a
supposition of our being too far engaged in affection to retract, and
therefore that we should steal a marriage, which would leave them at
liberty to give or withhold what they pleased, I know not; but I
suspected the latter, resented it, and went no more. Mrs. Godfrey
brought me afterward some more favorable accounts of their
disposition, and would have drawn me on again; but I declared
absolutely my resolution to have nothing more to do with that family.
This was resented by the Godfreys; we differed, and they removed,
leaving me the whole house, and I resolved to take no more inmates.
But this affair having turned my thoughts to marriage, I looked round
me and made overtures of acquaintance in other places; but soon found
that, the business of a printer being generally thought a poor one, I
was not to expect money with a wife, unless with such a one as I
should not otherwise think agreeable. In the mean time a friendly
correspondence as neighbors and old acquaintances had continued
between me and Mr. Read's family, who all had a regard for me from the
time of my first lodging in their house. I was often invited there and
consulted in their affairs, wherein I sometimes was of service. I
pitied poor Miss Read's unfortunate situation, who was generally
dejected, seldom cheerful, and avoided company. I considered my
giddiness and inconstancy when in London as in a great degree the
cause of her unhappiness, though the mother was good enough to think
the fault more her own than mine, as she had prevented our marrying
before I went thither, and persuaded the other match in my absence.
Our mutual affection was revived, but there were now great objections
to our union. The match[105] was indeed looked upon as invalid, a
preceding wife being said to be living in England; but this could not
easily be proved because of the distance; and though there was a
report of his death, it was not certain. Then, though it should be
true, he had left many debts, which his successor might be called upon
to pay. We ventured, however, over all these difficulties, and I took
her to wife Sept. 1, 1730. None of the inconveniences happened that we
had apprehended; she proved a good and faithful helpmate, assisted me
much by attending shop, we throve together, and have ever mutually
endeavored to make each other happy. Thus I corrected that great
erratum as well as I could.[106]
About this time, our club meeting not at a tavern but in a little room
of Mr. Grace's set apart for that purpose, a proposition was made by
me that, since our books were often referred to in our disquisitions
upon the queries, it might be convenient to us to have them all
together where we met, that upon occasion they might be consulted; and
by thus clubbing our books to a common library, we should, while we
liked to keep them together, have each of us the advantage of using
the books of all the other members, which would be nearly as
beneficial as if each owned the whole. It was liked and agreed to, and
we filled one end of the room with such books as we could best spare.
The number was not so great as we expected; and though they had been
of great use, yet, some inconveniences occurring for want of due care
of them, the collection, after about a year, was separated, and each
took his books home again.
And now I set on foot my first project of a public nature,--that for a
subscription library.[n] I drew up the proposals, got them put into form
by our great scrivener, Brockden, and, by the help of my friends in the
Junto, procured fifty subscribers of forty shillings each to begin with,
and ten shillings a year for fifty years, the term our company was to
continue. We afterward obtained a charter, the company being increased
to one hundred. This was the mother of all the North American
subscription libraries, now so numerous. It is become a great thing
itself, and continually increasing. These libraries have improved the
general conversation of the Americans, made the common tradesmen and
farmers as intelligent as most gentlemen from other countries, and
perhaps have contributed in some degree to the stand so generally made
throughout the colonies in defense of their privileges.[107]
CONTINUATION OF THE ACCOUNT OF MY LIFE, BEGUN AT PASSY, NEAR PARIS,
1784.
It is some time since I received the above letters,[108] but I have
been too busy till now to think of complying with the request they
contain. It might, too, be much better done if I were at home among my
papers, which would aid my memory, and help to ascertain dates; but my
return being uncertain, and having just now a little leisure, I will
endeavor to recollect and write what I can; if I live to get home, it
may there be corrected and improved.
Not having any copy here of what is already written, I know not
whether an account is given of the means I used to establish the
Philadelphia Public Library, which, from a small beginning, is now
become so considerable, though I remember to have come down to near
the time of that transaction (1730). I will therefore begin here with
an account of it, which may be struck out if found to have been
already given.
At the time I established myself in Pennsylvania there was not a good
bookseller's shop in any of the colonies to the southward of Boston.
In New York and Philadelphia the printers were indeed stationers; they
sold only paper, etc., almanacs, ballads, and a few common
schoolbooks. Those who loved reading were obliged to send for their
books from England; the members of the Junto had each a few. We had
left the alehouse where we first met, and hired a room to hold our
club in. I proposed that we should all of us bring our books to that
room, where they would not only be ready to consult in our
conferences, but become a common benefit, each of us being at liberty
to borrow such as he wished to read at home. This was accordingly
done, and for some time contented us.
Finding the advantage of this little collection, I proposed to render
the benefit from books more common by commencing a public subscription
library. I drew a sketch of the plan and rules that would be
necessary, and got a skillful conveyancer, Mr. Charles Brockden, to
put the whole in form of articles of agreement to be subscribed, by
which each subscriber engaged to pay a certain sum down for the first
purchase of books, and an annual contribution for increasing them. So
few were the readers at that time in Philadelphia, and the majority of
us so poor, that I was not able, with great industry, to find more
than fifty persons, mostly young tradesmen, willing to pay down for
this purpose forty shillings each and ten shillings per annum.