and James Ralph; all lovers of reading. The first two were clerks to an
eminent scrivener or conveyancer in the town (Charles Brockden), the
other was a 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 criticism. Ralph was ingenuous, genteel
in his manners, and extremely eloquent; I think I never knew a prettier
talker. Both were great admirers of poetry, and began to try their hands
in little pieces. Many pleasant walks we have had together on Sundays in
the woods on the banks of the Schuylkill, where we read to one another,
and conferred on what we had read. Ralph was inclined to give himself up
entirely to poetry, not doubting but he might make great proficiency in
it, and even make his fortune by it. He pretended that the greatest
poets must, when they first began to write, have committed as many
faults as he did. Osborne endeavoured to dissuade 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, and in time acquire wherewith to trade on his
own account." I approved, for my part, 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 was 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 a deity. When the time
of our meeting drew 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," said 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 hear 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, &c., but no excuse
could 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 severe against Ralph, and told me he was no better
able to criticise than to compose verses. As these two were returning
home, Osborne expressed himself still more strongly in favour of what he
thought my production; having before refrained, as he said, lest I
should think he meant to flatter me. "But who would have imagined," said
he, "that Franklin was capable of such a performance; such painting,
such force, such fire! He has even improved on the original. In common
conversation he seems to have no choice of words; he hesitates and
blunders; and yet, good God, how he writes!" When we next met, Ralph
discovered the trick we had played, and Osborne was 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.[6] He became, however, a pretty good prose writer. More
of him hereafter. But as I may not have occasion 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. 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.
The governor, seeming to like my company, had me frequently at his
house, and his setting me up was always mentioned as a fixed thing. I
was to take with me letters recommendatory to a number of his friends,
besides the letter of credit to furnish me with the necessary money for
purchasing the press, types, paper, &c. For these letters I was
appointed to call at different times, when they were to be ready, but a
future time was still named. Thus we went on till the ship (whose
departure, too, had been several times postponed) was on the point of
sailing. Then, when I called to take my leave and receive the letters,
his secretary, Dr. Baird, came out to me and said the governor was
extremely busy in writing, but would be down at Newcastle before the
ship, and then the letters would be delivered to me.
Ralph, though married, and having one child, had determined to accompany
me in this voyage. It was thought he intended to establish a
correspondence and obtain goods to sell on commission; but I found
after, that, having some cause of discontent with his wife's relations,
he proposed to leave her on their hands and never return to America.
Having taken leave of my friends and exchanged promises with Miss Read,
I quitted Philadelphia in the ship, which anchored at Newcastle. The
governor was there, but when I went to his lodging, his secretary came
to me from him with expressions of the greatest regret that he could not
then see me, being engaged in business of importance; but that he would
send the letters to me on board, wishing me heartily a good voyage and a
speedy return, &c. I returned on board a little puzzled, but still not
doubting.
Mr. Andrew Hamilton, a celebrated lawyer of Philadelphia, had taken his
passage in the same ship for himself and son, with Mr. Denham, a Quaker
merchant, and Messrs. Oniam and Russel (masters of an iron work in
Maryland), who had engaged the great cabin; so that Ralph and I were
forced to take up with a birth in the steerage, and, none on board
knowing us, were considered as ordinary persons. But Mr. Hamilton and
his son (it was James, since governor) returned from Newcastle to
Philadelphia, the father being recalled by a great fee to plead for a
seized ship. And just before we sailed, Colonel French coming on board,
and showing me great respect, I was more taken notice of; and, with my
friend Ralph, invited by the other gentlemen to come into the cabin,
there being now room; accordingly, we removed thither.
Understanding that Colonel French had brought on board the governor's
despatches, I asked the captain for those letters that were to be under
my care; he said all were put into the bag together, and he could not
then come at them, but before we landed in England I should have an
opportunity of picking them out; so I was satisfied for the present, and
we proceeded on our voyage. We had a sociable company in the cabin, and
lived uncommonly well, having the addition of all Mr. Hamilton's stores,
who had laid in plentifully. In this passage Mr. Denham contracted a
friendship for me, that continued during his life. The voyage was
otherwise not a pleasant one, as we had a great deal of bad weather.
When we came into the Channel, the captain kept his word with me, and
gave me an opportunity of examining the bag for the governor's letters;
I found some upon which my name was put, as under my care: I picked out
six or seven, that by the handwriting I thought might be the promised
letters, especially as one of them was addressed to Basket, the king's
printer, and another to some stationer. We arrived in London the 24th
December, 1724. I waited upon the stationer, who came first in my way,
delivering the letter as from Governor Keith. "I don't know such a
person," said he: but opening the letter, "Oh! this is from Riddlesden.
I have lately found him to be a complete rascal, and I will have nothing
to do with him, nor receive any letters from him." So, putting the
letter into my hand, he turned on his heel and left me to serve some
customer. I was surprised to find these were not the governor's letters;
and, after recollecting and comparing circumstances, I began to doubt
his sincerity. I found my friend Denham, and opened the whole affair to
him. He let me into Keith's character; told me there was not the least
probability that he had written any letters for me; that no one who knew
him had the smallest dependance on him; and he laughed at the idea of
the governor's giving me a letter of credit, having, as he said, no
credit to give. On my expressing some concern about what I should do, he
advised me to endeavour to get some employment in the way of my
business. Among the printers here, said he, you will improve yourself,
and when you return to America you will set up to greater advantage.
We both of us happened to know, as well as the stationer, that
Riddlesden, the attorney, was a very knave; he had half ruined Miss
Read's father, by persuading him to be bound for him. By his letter it
appeared there was a secret scheme on foot to the prejudice of Mr.
Hamilton (supposed to be then coming over with us); that Keith was
concerned in it, with Riddlesden. Denham, who was a friend of
Hamilton's, thought he ought to be acquainted with it; so, when he
arrived in England, which was soon after, partly from resentment and ill
will to Keith and Riddlesden, and partly from good will to him, I waited
on him and gave him the letter. He thanked me cordially, the information
being of importance to him; and from that time he became my friend,
greatly to my advantage afterward on many occasions.
But what shall we think of a governor playing such pitiful tricks, and
imposing so grossly upon a poor ignorant boy! It was a habit he had
acquired; he wished to please everybody, and having little to give, he
gave expectations. He was otherwise an ingenious, sensible man, a pretty
good writer, and a good governor for the people, though not for his
constituents the proprietaries, whose instructions he sometimes
disregarded: several of our best laws were of his planning, and passed
during his administration.
Ralph and I were inseparable companions. We took lodgings together in
Little Britain, at 3s. 6d. per week; as much as we could then afford. He
found some relations, but they were poor, and unable to assist him. He
now let me know his intentions of remaining in London, and that he never
meant to return to Philadelphia. He had brought no money with him, the
whole he could muster having been expended in paying his passage. I had
fifteen pistoles; so he borrowed occasionally of me to subsist, while he
was looking out for business. He first endeavoured to get into the
playhouse, believing himself qualified for an actor; but Wilkes to whom
he applied, advised him candidly not to think of that employment, as it
was impossible he should succeed in it. Then he proposed to Roberts, a
publisher in Paternoster Row, to write for him a weekly paper like the
Spectator, on certain conditions; which Roberts did not approve. Then he
endeavoured to get employment as a hackney-writer, to copy for the
stationers and lawyers about the Temple; but could not find a vacancy.
For myself, I immediately got into work at Palmer's, a famous
printing-house in Bartholomew Close, where I continued near a year. I
was pretty diligent, but I spent with Ralph a good deal of my earnings,
at plays and public amusements; we had nearly consumed all my pistoles,
and now just rubbed on from hand to mouth. He seemed quite to have
forgotten his wife and child; and I, by degrees, my engagements with
Miss Read, to whom I never wrote more than one letter, and that was to
let her know I was not likely soon to return. This was another of the
great _errata_ of my life which I could wish to correct if I were to
live it over again In fact, by our expenses I was constantly kept unable
to pay my passage.
At Palmer's I was employed in composing for the second edition of
Woollaston's Religion of Nature. Some of his reasonings not appearing to
me well-founded, I wrote a little metaphysical piece, in which I made
remarks on them. It was entitled, "_A Dissertation on Liberty and
Necessity, Pleasure and Pain_." I inscribed it to my friend Ralph; I
printed a small number. It occasioned my being more considered by Mr.
Palmer as a young man of some ingenuity, though he seriously
expostulated with me upon the principles of my pamphlet, which to him
appeared abominable. My printing this pamphlet was another _erratum_.
While I lodged in _Little Britain_, I made acquaintance with one Wilcox,
a bookseller, whose shop was next door. He had an immense collection of
second-hand books. Circulating libraries were not then in use, but we
agreed that on certain reasonable terms (which I have now forgotten), I
might take, read, and return any of his books; this I esteemed a great
advantage, and I made as much use of it as I could.
My pamphlet by some means falling into the hands of one Lyons, a
surgeon, author of a book entitled "_The Infallibility of Human
Judgment_," it occasioned an acquaintance between us; he took great
notice of me, called on me often to converse on those subjects, carried
me to the Horns, a pale alehouse in ---- lane, Cheapside, and introduced
me to Dr. Mandeville, author of the Fable of the Bees, who had a club
there, of which he was the soul, being a most facetious, entertaining
companion. Lyons, too, introduced me to Dr. Pemberton,[7] at Baston's
Coffee-house, who promised to give me an opportunity, some time or
other, of seeing Sir Isaac Newton, of which I was extremely desirous;
but this never happened.
I had brought over a few curiosities, among which the principal was a
purse made of the _asbestos_, which purifies by fire. Sir Hans Sloane
heard of it, came to see me, invited me to his house in Bloomsbury
Square, showed me all his curiosities, and persuaded me to add that to
the number; for which he paid me handsomely.
At my first admission into the printing-house I took to working at
press, imagining I felt a want of the bodily exercise I had been used to
in America, where presswork is mixed with the composing. I drank only
water; the other workmen, near fifty in number, were great drinkers of
beer. On occasion, I carried up and down stairs a large form of types in
each hand, when others carried but one in both hands; they wondered to
see, from this and several instances, that the _Water American_, as they
called me, was _stronger_ than themselves who drank _strong_ beer! We
had an alehouse-boy, who attended always in the house to supply the
workmen. My companion at the press drank every day a pint before
breakfast, a pint at breakfast with his bread and cheese, a pint between
breakfast and dinner, a pint at dinner; a pint in the afternoon about
six o'clock, and another when he had done his day's work. I thought it a
detestable custom; but it was necessary, he supposed, to drink _strong_
beer, that he might be _strong_ to labour. I endeavoured to convince him
that the bodily strength afforded by beer could only be in proportion to
the grain or flour of the barley dissolved in the water of which it was
made; that there was more flour in a pennyworth of bread, and,
therefore, if he could eat that with a pint of water, it would give him
more strength than a quart of beer. He drank on, however, and had four
or five shillings to pay out of his wages every Saturday night for that
vile liquor: an expense I was free from; and thus these poor devils keep
themselves always under.
Watts, after some weeks, desiring to have me in the composing-room, I
left the pressmen; a new _bien venu_ for drink (being five shillings)
was demanded of me by the compositors. I thought it an imposition, as I
had paid one to the pressmen; the master thought so too, and forbade my
paying it. I stood out two or three weeks, was accordingly considered as
an excommunicate, and had so many little pieces of private malice
practised on me, by mixing my sorts, transposing and breaking my matter,
&c., &c., if ever I stepped out of the room, and all ascribed to the
_chapel ghost_, which they said ever haunted those not regularly
admitted, that, notwithstanding the master's protection, I found myself
obliged to comply and pay the money, convinced of the folly of being on
ill terms with those one is to live with continually. I was now on a
fair footing with them, and soon acquired considerable influence. I
proposed some reasonable alterations in their _chapel_[8] laws, and
carried them against all opposition. From my example a great many of
them left their muddling breakfast of beer, bread and cheese, finding
they could with me be supplied from a neighbouring house with a large
porringer of hot water-gruel, sprinkled with pepper, crumbled with
bread, and a bit of butter in it, for the price of a pint of beer, viz.,
three halfpence. This was a more comfortable as well as a cheaper
breakfast, and kept their heads clearer. Those who continued sotting
with their beer all day, were often, by not paying, out of credit at the
alehouse, and used to make interest with me to get beer, their _light_,
as they phrased it, _being out_. I watched the pay-table on Saturday
night, and collected what I stood engaged for them, having to pay
sometimes near thirty shillings a week on their accounts. This, and my
being esteemed a pretty good _rig-ite_, that is, a jocular verbal
satirist, supported my consequence in the society. My constant
attendance (I never making a _St. Monday_) recommended me to the master;
and my uncommon quickness at composing occasioned my being put upon work
of despatch, which was generally better paid; so I went on now very
agreeably.
My lodgings in Little Britain being too remote, I found another in
Duke-street, opposite to the Romish Chapel. It was up three flights of
stairs backward, at an Italian warehouse. A widow lady kept the house;
she had a daughter, and a maidservant, and a journeyman who attended the
warehouse, but lodged abroad. After sending to inquire my character at
the house where I last lodged, she agreed to take me in at the same
rate, 3_s._ 6_d._ per week; cheaper, as she said, from the protection
she expected in having a man to lodge in the house. She was a widow, an
elderly woman; had been bred a Protestant, being a clergyman's daughter,
but was converted to the Catholic religion by her husband, whose memory
she much revered; had lived much among people of distinction, and knew a
thousand anecdotes of them, as far back as Charles the Second. She was
lame in her knees with the gout, and therefore seldom stirred out of her
room, so she sometimes wanted company; and hers was so highly amusing to
me, that I was sure to spend an evening with her whenever she desired
it. Our supper was only half an anchovy each, on a very little slice of
bread and butter, and half a pint of ale between us; but the
entertainment was in her conversation. My always keeping good hours, and
giving little trouble in the family, made her unwilling to part with me;
so that, when I talked of a lodging I had heard of nearer my business,
for 2_s._ a week, which, intent as I was on saving money, made some
difference, she bid me not think of it, for she would abate me 2_s._ a
week for the future; so I remained with her at 1_s._ 6_d._ as long as I
stayed in London.
In a garret of her house there lived a maiden lady of seventy, in the
most retired manner, of whom my landlady gave me this account: that she
was a Roman Catholic, had been sent abroad when young, and lodged in a
nunnery with an intent of becoming a nun; but, the country not agreeing
with her, she returned to England, where, there being no nunnery, she
had vowed to lead the life of a nun as near as might be done in those
circumstances. Accordingly, she had given all her estate to charitable
purposes, reserving only twelve pounds a year to live on, and out of
this sum she still gave a part in charity, living herself on water-gruel
only, and using no fire but to boil it. She had lived many years in that
garret, being permitted to remain there gratis by successive Catholic
tenants of the house below, as they deemed it a blessing to have her
there. A priest visited her to confess her every day: "from this I asked
her," said my landlady, "how she, as she lived, could possibly find so
much employment for a confessor." "Oh," said she, "it is impossible to
avoid _vain thoughts_." I was permitted once to visit her; she was
cheerful and polite, and conversed pleasantly. The room was clean, but
had no other furniture than a mattress, a table with a crucifix, and a
book, a stool which she gave me to sit on, and a picture over the
chimney of _St. Veronica_ displaying her handkerchief, with the
miraculous figure of Christ's bleeding face on it, which she explained
to me with great seriousness. She looked pale, but was never sick, and I
give it as another instance on how small an income life and health may
be supported.
At Watts's printing-house I contracted an acquaintance with an ingenious
man, one Wygate, who, having wealthy relations, had been better educated
than most printers; was a tolerable Latinist, spoke French, and loved
reading. I taught him and a friend of his to swim at twice going into
the river, and they soon became good swimmers. They introduced me to
some gentlemen from the country, who went to Chelsea by water, to see
the college and Don Saltero's curiosities. In our return, at the request
of the company, whose curiosity Wygate had excited, I stripped and
leaped into the river, and swam from near Chelsea to Blackfriars;
performing in the way many feats of activity both upon and under the
water, that surprised and pleased those to whom they were novelties. I
had from a child been delighted with this exercise, had studied and
practised Thevenot's motions and positions, added some of mine own,
aiming at the graceful and easy as well as the useful. All these I took
this occasion of exhibiting to the company, and was much flattered by
their admiration; and Wygate, who was desirous of becoming a master,
grew more and more attached to me on that account, as well as from the
similarity of our studies. He at length proposed to me travelling all
over Europe together, supporting ourselves everywhere by working at our
business. I was once inclined to it; but mentioning it to my good friend
Mr. Denham, with whom I often spent an hour when I had leisure, he
dissuaded me from it, advising me to think only of returning to
Pennsylvania, which he was now about to do.
I must record one trait of this good man's character: he had formerly
been in business at Bristol, but failed in debt to a number of people,
compounded and went to America; there, by a close application to
business as a merchant, he acquired a plentiful fortune in a few years.
Returning to England in the ship with me, he invited his old creditors
to an entertainment, at which he thanked them for the easy composition
they had favoured him with, and when they expected nothing but the
treat, every man at the first remove found under his plate an order on a
banker for the full amount of the unpaid remainder, with interest.
He now told me he was about to return to Philadelphia, and should carry
over a great quantity of goods in order to open a store there. He
proposed to take me over as his clerk, to keep his books (in which he
would instruct me), copy his letters, and attend the store; he added,
that, as soon as I should be acquainted with mercantile business, he
would promote me, by sending me with a cargo of flour and bread, &c., to
the West Indies, and procure me commissions from others which would be
profitable; and, if I managed well, would establish me handsomely. The
thing pleased me, for I was grown tired of London; remembered with
pleasure the happy months I had spent in Pennsylvania, and wished again
to see it; therefore I immediately agreed on the terms of fifty pounds a
year, Pennsylvania money; less, indeed, than my present gettings as a
compositor, but affording better prospects.
I now took leave of printing, as I thought, for ever, and was daily
employed in my new business: going about with Mr. Denham among the
tradesmen, to purchase various articles and see them packed up,
delivering messages, calling upon workmen to despatch, &c.; 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 (Sir
William Wyndham), and I waited upon him; he had heard, by some means or
other, of my swimming from Chelsea to Blackfriars, 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 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 the 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
made me sooner, probably I should not so soon have returned to America.
Many years after, you and I had something of more importance to do with
one of those sons of Sir William Wyndham, become Earl of Egremont, which
I shall mention in its place.
Thus I passed 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 improved my knowledge, however, though
I had by no means improved my fortune; but I had made 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_ to be found in it, which I formed at sea, for regulating the
future conduct of my 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.
We landed at Philadelphia 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, and 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 cohabit with him or bear his name, it being
now said 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 stationary,
plenty of new types, and 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 counselled me
as a father, having a sincere regard for me: I respected and loved him,
and we might have gone on together very happily, but in the beginning of
February, 1727, when I had just passed my twenty-first year, we both
were 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 at the time 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 go over again. I forget what Mr. Denham's
distemper was; it held him a long time, and at length carried him off.
He left me a small legacy in a nuncupative will, as a token of his
kindness to 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 to his stationer's shop. I
had heard a bad character of him in London from his wife and her
friends, and was not for having any more to do with him. I wished for
employment as a merchant's clerk, but not 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; he was
honest, sensible, a man of experience, and fond of reading, but addicted
to drinking. Stephen Potts, a young countryman of full age, bred to the
same, of uncommon natural parts, and great wit and humour, but a little
idle. These he had agreed with at extreme low wages per week, to be
raised a shilling every three months as they should 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 Savage, an Irishman,
brought up to no business, whose service for four years Keimer had
purchased 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 (they being all
articled to him), he should be able to do without me. I went, 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; he gave me
this account of himself: that he was born in Gloucester, educated at a
grammar-school, and had been distinguished among the scholars for some
apparent superiority in performing his part when they exhibited plays;
belonged to the Wit's club there, and had written some pieces in prose
and verse, which were printed in the Gloucester newspapers; thence was
sent to Oxford; there 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 instead of
discharging his debts he went out of town, hid his gown in a furz bush,
and walked to London, where, having no friend 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 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 his
friends to acquaint them 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. My acquaintance with ingenious people in the town increased. We
never worked on Saturday, that being Keimer's Sabbath, so that I had two
days for reading. 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 foundry
in America. I had seen types cast at James's in London, but without much
attention to the manner; however, I now contrived a mould, and made use
of the letters we had as puncheons, struck the matrices in lead, and
thus supplied, in a pretty tolerable way, all deficiencies. I also
engraved several things on occasion; made the ink; I was warehouse-man,
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 their
business; and when Keimer paid me a 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 the airs of
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 connexion; 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; called out to
me in a loud voice and an angry tone, to mind my business; adding some
reproachful words, that nettled me the more for their publicity; all the
neighbours, 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 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
a 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 he would advance money to set me up, if I would enter
into partnership with him. My time, said 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 to me, and I consented; his
father was in town and approved of it; the more, he said, as 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 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 himself longer from ruin.
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 creature; 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, said he, I foresee you will soon work this man out of his
business, and make a fortune in it at Philadelphia. He had then not 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 way. But I was
scarce fifteen, when, after doubting by turns several points, as I found
them disputed in the different books I read, I began to doubt of the
revelation itself. Some books against Deism fell into my hands; they
were said to be the substance of the sermons which had been 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
refutation; in short, I soon became a thorough Deist. My arguments
perverted some others, particularly Collins and Ralph: but each of these
having wronged me greatly without the least compunction; and
recollecting Keith's conduct towards me (who was another freethinker),
and my own towards 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 (printed in 1725)--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 eye not carrying to that equal beam
That poises all above--"
and which, 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 practise 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 favourable circumstances and situations, or all together,
preserved me through the dangerous time of youth and the hazardous
situations I was sometimes in among strangers, remote from the eye and
advice of my father, free from any _wilful_ gross immorality or
injustice that might have been expected from my want of religion; I say
_wilful_, 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, from the gratitude I felt towards House, has made me often more
ready than perhaps I otherwise should have been, to assist young
beginners.
There are croakers in every country always boding its ruin. Such a one
there 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 me 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 the appearances of the country, 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 ruin us.
Then 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
person 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 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 for mutual
improvement, which we called the JUNTO; 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.
The first members were Joseph Brientnal, a copier of deeds for the
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 making little knickknackeries, 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_. 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 for ever 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, and afterward laughed at it; he also became surveyor-general.
William Maugridge, joiner, but 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.
Lastly, 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 on 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; hence the long continuance of the club, which I shall have
frequent occasion to speak farther 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. Brientnal
particularly procured us from the Quakers the printing of forty sheets
of their history, the rest being to be done by Keimer; and upon these we
worked exceeding hard, for the price was low. It was a folio, _pro
patria_ size, in pica, with long-primer notes. I composed 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 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 my forms, I
thought my day's work over, one of them by accident was broken, and two
pages reduced to _pi_, I immediately distributed and composed it over
again before I went to bed; and this industry, visible to our
neighbours, 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," said he, "is superior to anything I ever saw of the
kind; I see him still at work when I go home from the club, and he is at
work again before his neighbours are out of bed." This struck the rest,
and we soon after had offers from one of them to supply us with
stationary; 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 favour 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 freely thought a good paper would scarcely fail of good
encouragement. I requested Webb not to mention it, but he told it to
Keimer, who immediately, to be beforehand with me, published proposals
for one himself, on which Webb was to be employed. I was vexed at this,
and to counteract them, not being able to commence our paper, I wrote
several amusing pieces for Bradford's paper, under the title of the
BUSYBODY, which Brientnal continued some months. By this means the
attention of the public was fixed on that paper, and Keimer's proposals,
which we burlesqued and ridiculed, were disregarded. He began his paper,
however, and before carrying it on three quarters of a year, with at
most only ninety subscribers, he offered it 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.
I perceive that I am apt to speak in the singular number, though our
partnership still continued; it 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 connexion with
him, but I was to make the best of it.
Our first papers made quite a different appearance from any before
printed in the province; a better type, and better printed; but some
remarks of my writing on the dispute 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; another was, that the leading men, seeing
a newspaper now in the hands of those 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.[9]
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,
craving his forbearance a little longer, which he allowed me; as soon as
I was able, I paid the principal with the 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, offered 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 street, 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 my self 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? 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 farther. 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; 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, &c., 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 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 currency, from the apprehension that it would depreciate, as it had
done in New-England, to the injury 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, when I first walked about the
streets of Philadelphia (eating my roll), I saw many 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 think the inhabitants of the city were one after
another deserting it. 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 clamour 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 considered 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,
that the principles upon which it was founded were never afterward much
disputed; so that it grew soon to fifty-five thousand pounds; and in
1739, to eighty thousand pounds, trade, building, and inhabitants all
the while increasing: though I now think there are limits beyond which
the quantity may be hurtful.
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.
Mr. Hamilton procured me also the printing of the laws and votes of that
government, which continued in my hands as long as I followed the
business.
I now opened a small stationer's shop: I had in it blanks of all kinds,
the correctest that ever appeared among us. I was assisted in that by my
friend Breintnal: I had also paper, parchment, chapmen's books, &c. 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 Aquilla 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 the appearances to the contrary. I dressed plain,
and 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, was private, 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 stationary solicited my
custom; others proposed supplying me with books, and I went on
prosperously. 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
quarrelled often, and Harry went continually behindhand, and at length
was obliged to sell his types and return to country-work in
Pennsylvania. The person who bought them employed Keimer to use them,
but a few years after he died.
There remained now no other printer in Philadelphia but the old
Bradford; but he was rich and easy, did a little in the business by
straggling hands, but was not anxious about it: however, as he held the
postoffice, it was imagined he had better opportunities of obtaining
news, his paper was thought a better distributor 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 the post, yet the public opinion was otherwise; for what I did
send was by bribing the riders, who took them privately; Bradford being
unkind enough to forbid it, which occasioned some resentment on my part,
and I thought so meanly of the practice, 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, 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 with their daughter as would pay off my remaining
debt for the printing-house; which I believe was not 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 Keimer and David 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 motive, resented it, and went no more.
Mrs. Godfrey brought me afterward some more favourable 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.
A friendly correspondence, as neighbours, had continued between me and
Miss 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 was now great objections to our union; that match 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, &c., 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 to the shop; we
throve together, and ever mutually endeavoured to make each other happy.
Thus I corrected that great _erratum_ as well as I could.
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 when
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; 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 goes on 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 defence of their privileges.
[Thus far was written with the intention expressed in the beginning;
and, getting abroad, it excited great interest on account of its
simplicity and candour; and induced many applications for a continuance.
What follows was written many years after, in compliance with the advice
contained in the letters that follow, and has, therefore, less of a
family picture and more of a public character. The American revolution
occasioned the interruption.]
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Dr. Shipley.
[2] Perhaps from the time when the name of FRANKLIN, which before was
the name of an order of people, was assumed by them for a _surname_,
when others took surnames all over the kingdom.
As a proof that Franklin was anciently the common name of an order or
rank in England, see Judge Fortescue, _De laudibus Legum Angliae_,
written about the year 1412, in which is the following passage, to show
that good juries might easily be formed in any part of England:
"Regio etiam illa, ita respersa refertaque est _possessoribus terrarum_
et agrorum, quod in ea, villula tam parva reperiri non poterit, in qua
non est _miles_, _armiger_, vel pater-familias, qualis ibidem
_Frankleri_ vulgariter nuncupatur, magnis ditatus possessionibus, nec
non libere tenentes et alii _valecti_ plurimi, suis patrimoniis
sufficientes, ad faciendum juratam, in forma praenotata.
"Moreover, the same country is so filled and replenished with landed
menne, that therein so small a thorpe cannot be found wherein dweleth
not a knight, an esquire, or such a householder as is there commonly
called a _Franklin_, enriched with great possessions; and also other
freeholders and many yeomen, able for their livelihoodes to make a jury
in form aforementioned."--_Old Translation._
Chaucer, too, calls his country-gentleman a _Franklin_; and after
describing his good housekeeping, thus characterizes him:
"This worthy Franklin bore a purse of silk
Fix'd to his girdle, white as morning milk;
Knight of the shire, first justice at th' assize,
To help the poor, the doubtful to advise.
In all employments, generous, just he proved,
Renown'd for courtesy, by all beloved."
[3] _Copy of an original letter, found among Dr. Franklin's papers, from
Josiah to B. Franklin._
Boston, May 26, 1739.
LOVING SON,--As to the original of our name there is various
opinions; some say that it came from a sort of title of which a
book, that you bought when here, gives a lively account. Some think
we are of a French extract, which was formerly called Franks; some
of a free line; a line free from that vassalage which was common to
subjects in days of old; some from a bird of long red legs. Your
uncle Benjamin made inquiry of one skilled in heraldry, who told
him there is two coats of armour, one belonging to the Franklins of
the north, and one to the Franklins of the west. However, our
circumstances have been such as that it hath hardly been worth
while to concern ourselves much about these things, any farther
than to tickle the fancy a little.
The first that I can give account of is my great grandfather, as it
was a custom in those days among young men too many times to goe to
seek their fortune, and in his travels he went upon liking to a
taylor; but he kept such a stingy house, that he left him and
travelled farther, and came to a smith's house, and coming on a
fasting day, being in popish times, he did not like there the first
day; the next morning the servant was called up at five in the
morning, but after a little time came a good toast and good beer,
and he found good housekeeping there; he served and learned the
trade of a smith.
In Queen Mary's days, either his wife, or my grandmother by
father's side, informed my father that they kept their Bible
fastened under the top of a joint-stool that they might turn up the
book and read in the Bible; that, when anybody came to the dore,
they turned up the stool for fear of the apparitor; for if it was
discovered they would be in hazard of their lives. My grandfather
was a smith also, and settled at Ecton, in Northamptonshire, and he
was imprisoned a year and a day on suspicion of his being the
author of some poetry that touched the character of some great man.
He had only one son and one daughter; my grandfather's name was
Henry, my father's name was Thomas, my mother's name was Jane. My
father was born at Ecton or Eton, Northamptonshire, on the 18th of
October, 1598; married to Miss Jane White, niece to Coll White, of
Banbury, and died in the 84th year of his age. There was nine
children of us who were happy in our parents, who took great care
by their instructions and pious example to breed us up in a
religious way. My eldest brother had but one child, which was
married to one Mr. Fisher, at Wallingborough, in Northamptonshire.
The town was lately burned down, and whether she was a sufferer or
not I cannot tell, or whether she be living or not. Her father died
worth fifteen hundred pounds, but what her circumstances are now I
know not. She hath no child. If you by the freedom of your office,
makes it more likely to convey a letter to her, it would be
acceptable to me. There is also children of brother John and sister
Morris, but I hear no thing from them, and they write not to me, so
that I know not where to find them. I have been again to about
seeing ... but have missed of being informed. We received yours,
and are glad to hear poor Jammy is recovered so well. Son John
received the letter, but is so busy just now that he cannot write
you an answer, but will do the best he can. Now with hearty love
to, and prayer for you all, I rest your affectionate father,
JOSIAH FRANKLIN.
[4] Sherburne, in the island of Nantucket.
[5] The number in 1817 exceeds 400
[6]
"Silence, ye wolves, while _Ralph_ to Cynthia howls,
And makes night hideous: answer him, ye owls!"
POPE'S _Dunciad_, b. iii., v. 165.
[7] F. R. S., author of "A View of Sir Isaac Newton's Philosophy," and
"A Treatise on Chymistry;" died in 1771.
[8] A printing-house is always called a _chapel_ by the workmen, because
printing was first carried on in England in an ancient chapel, and the
title has been preserved by tradition. The _bien venu_ among the
printers, answers to the terms _entrance_ and _footing_ among mechanics;
thus a journeyman, on entering a printing-house, was accustomed to pay
one or more gallons of beer _for the good of the chapel_; this custom
was falling into disuse thirty years ago; it is very properly rejected
entirely in the United States.
[9] I afterward obtained for his son _five hundred pounds_.