So late as 1720, there was but one newspaper in all North America, and
even this by some was thought one too many so little reading was there
among the people in those days. But believing that the reading
appetite, weak as it was, ran more on newspapers than any thing else,
James Franklin took it into his head to _start_ another paper. His
friends all _vowed_ it would be the ruin of him; but James
persevered, and a second newspaper, entitled "THE NEW ENGLAND
COURANT," was published. What was the number of subscribers, after
so long a lapse of time, is now unknown; but it was Ben's humble lot to
furnish their papers after having assisted to compose and work them
off.
Among his friends, James had a number of literary characters, who, by
way of amusement, used to write for his paper. These gentlemen
frequently visited him at his office, merely for a little chat, and to
tell how highly the public thought of their pieces Ben attended
closely to their conversation, and happening to think they were no
great wits, he determined to cut in and try his hand among them. But
how to get his little adventures into the paper was the question, and a
serious one too; for he knew very well that his brother, looking on him
as hardly more than a child, would not dream of printing any thing that
he knew had come from his pen. Stratagem of course must be resorted to.
He took his time, and having written his piece pretty much to his mind,
he copied it in a disguised hand, and when they were all gone to bed,
slyly shoved it under the door of the office; where it was found next
morning. In the course of the day, his friends dropping in as usual,
James showed them the stranger paper; a caucus was held, and with
aching heart Ben heard his piece read for their criticism. It was
highly applauded: and to his greater joy still, among their various
conjectures as to the author, not one was mentioned who did not hold a
distinguished reputation for talents! Encouraged by such good success
of this his first adventure, he wrote on, and sent to the press, in the
same sly way, several other pieces, which were equally approved,
keeping the secret till his slender stock of information was pretty
completely exhausted, when he came out with the real author.
His brother, on this discovery, began to entertain a little more
respect for him, but still looked on and treated him as a common
apprentice. Ben, on the other hand, thought that, as a brother, he had
a right to greater indulgence, and sometimes complained of James as
rather too rigorous. This difference in opinion rose to disputes, which
were often brought before their father, who either from partiality to
Ben, or his _better_ cause, generally gave it in his favour. James
could not bear these awards of his father in favour of a younger
brother, but would fly into a passion and treat him with abuse even to
blows. Ben took this tyrannical behaviour of his brother in extremely
ill part; and he somewhere says that it imprinted on his mind that
deep-rooted aversion to arbitrary power, which he never lost, and which
rendered him through life such a firm and unconquerable enemy of
oppression. His apprenticeship became insupportable, and he sighed
continually for an opportunity of shortening it, which at length
unexpectedly offered.
An article in his paper, on some political subject, giving great
offence to the assembly, James was taken up; and because he would not
discover the author, was ordered into confinement for a month. Ben also
was had up and examined before the council, who, after reprimanding,
dismissed him, probably because deeming him bound, as an apprentice, to
keep his master's secrets.
Notwithstanding their private quarrels, this imprisonment of his
brother excited Ben's indignation against the assembly; and having now,
during James' confinement, the sole direction of the paper, he boldly
came out every week with some severe pasquinade against "_The little
tyrants of Boston_." But though this served to gratify his own angry
feelings, and to tickle James, as also to gain himself the character of
a wonderful young man for satire; yet it answered no good end, but far
contrariwise, proved a fatal blow to their newspaper; for at the
expiration of the month, James's enlargement was accompanied with an
order from the assembly, that "JAMES FRANKLIN SHOULD NO LONGER
PRINT THE NEWSPAPER ENTITLED THE NEW ENGLAND COURANT."
This was a terrible thunder-clap on poor James and his whole scribbling
squad; and Ben could find no lightning rod to parry the bolt. A caucus,
however, of all the friends was convoked at the printing-office, to
devise ways and means of redress. One proposed this measure and another
that; but the measure proposed by James himself was at length adopted.
This was to carry on the newspaper under Ben's name. _But_, said
some, _will not the assembly haul you over the coals for thus
attempting to whip the d----l round the stump?_
No, replied James.
Aye, how will you prevent it?
Why, I'll give up Ben's indentures.
So then you'll let Ben run free?
No, nor that neither; for he shall sign a new contract.
This was to be sure a very shallow arrangement. It was however carried
into immediate execution, and the paper continued in consequence to
make its appearance for some months in Ben's name. At length a new
difference arising between the brothers, and Ben knowing that James
would not dare to talk of his new _contract_, boldly asserted his
freedom!
His numerous admirers will here blush for poor Ben, and hide their
reddening cheeks. But let them redden as they may, they will hardly
ever equal that honest crimson which glows in the following lines from
his _own pen_:
"It was, no doubt, very dishonourable to avail myself of this
advantage, and I reckon this as the _first_ error of my life. But,
I was little capable of seeing it in its true light, embittered as my
mind had been by the blows I had received. Exclusively of his
passionate _treatment_ of me, my brother was by no means an ill
tempered man. And even here, perhaps, my _manners_ had too much of
impertinence not to afford it a very natural pretext."
Go thy way, honest Ben. Such a confession of error will plead thy
excuse with all who know their own infirmities, and remember what the
greatest saints have done. Yes, when we remember what young Jacob did
to his brother Esau, and how he came over him with his mess of pottage,
robbing him of his birthright; and also what David did to Uriah, whom
he robbed not only of his wife, but of his life also, we surely shall
pity not only Ben, but every man his brother for their follies, and
heartily rejoice that there is mercy with Christ to forgive _all_,
on their repentance and amendment.