_Our hero, little Ben, coming on the carpet--Put to school very
young--Learns prodigiously--Taken home and set to candle-making--
Curious capers, all proclaiming "the Achilles in petticoats."_
Dr. Franklin's father married early in his own country, and would
probably have lived and died there, but for the persecutions against
his friends the Presbyterians, which so disgusted him, that he came
over to New England, and settled in Boston about the year 1682. He
brought with him his English wife and three children. By the same wife
he had four children more in America; and ten others afterwards by an
American wife. The doctor speaks with pleasure of having seen thirteen
sitting together very lovingly at his father's table, and all married.
Our little hero, who was the fifteenth child, and last of the sons,
was born at Boston the 17th day of January, 1706, old style.
That famous Italian proverb, "_The Devil tempts every man, but the
Idler tempts the Devil_," was a favourite canto with wise old Josias;
for which reason, soon as their little lips could well lisp letters
and syllables, he had them all to school.
Nor was this the only instance with regard to them, wherein good
Josias "_sham'd the Devil_;" for as soon as their education was
finished, they were put to useful trades. Thus no leisure was allowed
for bad company and habits. Little Ben, neatly clad and comb'd, was
pack'd off to school with the rest; and as would seem, at a very early
age, for he says himself that, "_he could not recollect any time in
his life when he did not know how to read_," whence we may infer that
he hardly ever knew any thing more of childhood than its innocency and
playfulness. At the age of eight he was sent to a grammar school,
where he made such a figure in learning, that his good old father set
him down at once for the church, and used constantly to call him his
"_little chaplain_." He was confirmed in this design, not only by the
extraordinary readiness with which he learned, but also by the praises
of his friends, who all agreed that he would certainly one day or
other become a mighty scholar. His uncle Benjamin too, greatly
approved the idea of making a preacher of him; and by way of
encouragement, promised to him all his volumes of sermons, written, as
before said, in his own short hand.
This his rapid progress in learning he ascribed very much to an
amiable teacher who used gentle means only, to encourage his scholars,
and make them fond of their books.
But in the midst of this gay career in his learning, when in the
course of the first year only, he had risen from the middle of his
class to the head of it; thence to the class immediately above it; and
was rapidly overtaking the third class, he was taken from school! His
father, having a large family, with but a small income, and thinking
himself unable consistently with what he owed the rest of his
children, to give him a collegiate education, took Ben home to assist
him in his own humble occupation, which was that of a SOAP-BOILER and
TALLOW-CHANDLER; a trade he had taken up of his own head after
settling in Boston; his original one of a DYER being in too little
request to maintain his family.
I have never heard how Ben took this sudden reverse in his prospects.
No doubt it put his little stock of philosophy to the stretch. To have
seen himself, one day, on the high road to literary fame, flying from
class to class, the admiration and envy of a numerous school; and the
next day, to have found himself in a filthy soap-shop; clad in a
greasy apron, twisting cotton wicks!--and in place of snuffing the
sacred lamps of the Muses, to be bending over pots of fetid tallow,
dipping and moulding candles for the dirty cook wenches! Oh, it must
have seem'd a sad falling off! Indeed, it appears from his own account
that he was so disgusted with it that he had serious thoughts of going
to sea. But his father objecting to it, and Ben having virtue enough
to be dutiful, the notion was given up for that time. But the ambition
which had made him the first at his school, and which now would have
hurried him to sea, was not to be extinguished. Though diverted from
its favourite course, it still burned for distinction, and rendered
him the leader of the juvenile band in every enterprize where danger
was to be confronted, or glory to be won. In the neighbouring
mill-pond, he was the foremost to lead the boys to plunge and swim;
thus teaching them an early mastery over that dangerous element. And
when the ticklish mill-boat was launching from the shore laden with
his timid playmates, the paddle that served as rudder, was always put
into his hands, as the fittest to steer her course over the dark
waters of the pond. This ascendancy which nature had given him over
the companions of his youth, was not always so well used as it might
have been. He honestly confesses that, once at least, he made such an
unlucky use of it as drew them into a scrape that cost them dear.
Their favourite fishing shore on that pond was, it seems, very miry.
To remedy so great an inconvenience he proposed to the boys to make a
wharf. Their assent was quickly obtained: but what shall we make it
of? was the question. Ben pointed their attention to a heap of stones,
hard by, of which certain honest masons were building a house. The
proposition was hailed by the boys, as a grand discovery; and soon as
night had spread her dark curtains around them, they fell to work with
the activity of young beavers, and by midnight had completed their
wharf. The next morning the masons came to work, but, behold! not a
stone was to be found! The young rogues, however, detected by the
track of their feet in the mud, were quickly summoned before their
parents, who not being so partial to Ben as they had been, chastised
their folly with a severe flogging. Good old Josias pursued a
different course with his son. To deter him from such an act in
future, he endeavoured to reason him into a sense of its immorality.
Ben, on the other hand, just fresh and confident from his school, took
the field of argument against his father, and smartly attempted to
defend what he had done, on the principle of its _utility_. But the
old gentleman, who was a great adept in moral philosophy, calmly
observed to him, that if one boy were to make use of this plea to take
away his fellow's goods, another might; and thus contests would arise,
filling the world with blood and murder without end. Convinced, in
this simple way, of the fatal consequences of "_doing evil that good
may come_," Ben let drop the weapons of his rebellion, and candidly
agreed with his father that what was not _strictly honest_ could never
be _truly useful_. This discovery he made at the tender age of _nine_.
Some never make it in the course of their lives. The grand angler,
Satan, throws out his bait of _immediate gain_; and they, like silly
Jacks, snap at it at once; and in the moment of running off, fancy
they have got a delicious morsel. But alas! the fatal hook soon
convinces them of their mistake, though sometimes too late. And then
the lamentation of the prophet serves as the epilogue of their
tragedy--"_'Twas honey in the mouth, but gall in the bowels._"