Faults and corrected them. But I found I wanted a Stock of Words or a
Readiness in recollecting and using them, which I thought I should have
acquir'd before that time, if I had gone on making Verses, since the
continual Occasion for Words of the same Import but of different Length,
to suit the Measure, or of different Sound for the Rhyme, would have
laid me under a constant Necessity of searching for Variety, and also
have tended to fix that Variety in my Mind, and make me Master of it.
Therefore I took some of the Tales and turn'd them into Verse: And after
a time, when I had pretty well forgotten the Prose, turn'd them back
again. I also sometimes jumbled my Collections of Hints into Confusion,
and after some Weeks, endeavour'd to reduce them into the best Order,
before I began to form the full Sentences, and compleat the Paper. This
was to teach me Method in the Arrangement of Thoughts. By comparing my
work afterwards with the original, I discover'd many faults and amended
them; but I sometimes had the Pleasure of Fancying that in certain
Particulars of small Import, I had been lucky enough to improve the
Method or the Language and this encourag'd me to think I might possibly
in time come to be a tolerable English Writer, of which I was extreamly
ambitious.
My Time for these Exercises and for Reading, was at Night, after Work or
before it began in the Morning; or on Sundays, when I contrived to be in
the Printing House alone, evading as much as I could the common
Attendance on publick Worship, which my Father used to exact of me when
I was under his Care: And which indeed I still thought a Duty; tho' I
could not, as it seemed to me, afford the Time to practise it.
When about 16 Years of Age, I happen'd to meet with a Book, written by
one Tryon, recommending a Vegetable Diet. I determined to go into it. My
Brother being yet unmarried, did not keep House, but boarded himself and
his Apprentices in another Family. My refusing to eat Flesh occasioned
an Inconveniency, and I was frequently chid for my singularity. I made
myself acquainted with Tryon's Manner of preparing some of his Dishes,
such as Boiling Potatoes or Rice, making Hasty Pudding, and a few
others, and then propos'd to my Brother, that if he would give me Weekly
half the Money he paid for my Board I would board myself. He instantly
agreed to it, and I presently found that I could save half what he paid
me. This was an additional Fund for buying Books. But I had another
Advantage in it. My Brother and the rest going from the Printing House
to their Meals, I remain'd there alone, and dispatching presently my
light Repast, (which often was no more than a Bisket or a Slice of
Bread, a Handful of Raisins or a Tart from the Pastry Cook's, and a
Glass of Water) had the rest of the Time till their Return, for Study,
in which I made the greater Progress from that greater Clearness of
Head and quicker Apprehension which usually attend Temperance in Eating
and Drinking. And now it was that being on some Occasion made asham'd of
my Ignorance in Figures, which I had twice failed in Learning when at
School, I took Cocker's Book of Arithmetick, and went thro' the whole by
myself with great Ease. I also read Seller's and Sturmy's Books of
Navigation, and became acquainted with the little Geometry they contain,
but never proceeded far in that Science.--And I read about this Time
Locke on Human Understanding, and the Art of Thinking by Mess^rs du Port
Royal.
While I was intent on improving my Language, I met with an English
Grammar (I think it was Greenwood's) at the End of which there were two
little Sketches of the Arts of Rhetoric and Logic, the latter finishing
with a Specimen of a Dispute in the Socratic Method. And soon after I
procur'd Xenophon's Memorable Things of Socrates, wherein there are many
Instances of the same Method. I was charm'd with it, adopted it, dropt
my abrupt Contradiction, and positive Argumentation, and put on the
humble Enquirer and Doubter. And being then, from reading Shaftesbury
and Collins, become a real Doubter in many Points of our religious
Doctrine, I found this Method safest for myself and very embarrassing to
those against whom I us'd it, therefore I took a Delight in it,
practis'd it continually and grew very artful and expert in drawing
People even of superior Knowledge into Concessions the Consequences of
which they did not foresee, entangling them in Difficulties out of which
they could not extricate themselves, and so obtaining Victories that
neither myself nor my Cause always deserved.--I continu'd this Method
some few years, but gradually left it, retaining only the Habit of
expressing myself in Terms of modest Diffidence, never using when I
advance any thing that may possibly be disputed, the Words, _Certainly_,
_undoubtedly_; or any others that give the Air of Positiveness to an
Opinion; but rather say, I conceive, or I apprehend a Thing to be so or
so, It appears to me, or I should think it so or so for such and such
Reasons, or I imagine it to be so, or it is so if I am not mistaken.
This Habit I believe has been of great Advantage to me, when I have had
occasion to inculcate my Opinions and persuade Men into Measures that I
have been from time to time engag'd in promoting.--And as the chief Ends
of Conversation are to _inform_, or to be _informed_, to _please_ or to
_persuade_, I wish wellmeaning sensible Men would not lessen their Power
of doing Good by a Positive assuming Manner that seldom fails to
disgust, tends to create Opposition, and to defeat every one of those
Purposes for which Speech was given us, to wit, giving or receiving
Information, or Pleasure: For if you would _inform_, a positive
dogmatical Manner in advancing your Sentiments, may provoke
Contradiction and prevent a candid Attention. If you wish Information
and Improvement from the Knowledge of others and yet at the same time
express yourself as firmly fix'd in your present Opinions, modest
sensible Men, who do not love Disputation, will probably leave you
undisturbed in the Possession of your Error; and by such a Manner you
can seldom hope to recommend yourself in _pleasing_ your Hearers, or to
persuade those whose Concurrence you desire.--Pope says, judiciously,
_Men should be taught as if you taught them not,
And things unknown propos'd as things forgot,--_
farther recommending it to us,
_To speak tho' sure, with seeming Diffidence._
And he might have coupled with this Line that which he has coupled with
another, I think less properly,
_For want of Modesty is want of Sense._
If you ask why _less properly_, I must repeat the lines;
"Immodest Words admit of _no_ Defence;
_For_ Want of Modesty is Want of Sense."
Now is not _Want of Sense_ (where a Man is so unfortunate as to want it)
some Apology for his _Want of Modesty?_ and would not the Lines stand
more justly thus?
Immodest Words admit _but this_ Defence,
That Want of Modesty is Want of Sense.
This however I should submit to better Judgments.--
My Brother had in 1720 or 21, begun to print a Newspaper. It was the
second that appear'd in America, and was called _The New England
Courant_.[2] The only one before it, was _the Boston News Letter_. I
remember his being dissuaded by some of his Friends from the
Undertaking, as not likely to succeed, one Newspaper being in their
Judgment enough for America.--At this time 1771 there are not less than
five and twenty.--He went on however with the Undertaking, and after
having work'd in composing the Types and printing off the Sheets, I was
employ'd to carry the Papers thro' the Streets to the Customers.--He had
some ingenious Men among his Friends who amus'd themselves by writing
little Pieces for this Paper, which gain'd it Credit, and made it more
in Demand; and these Gentlemen often visited us.--Hearing their
Conversations, and their Accounts of the Approbation their Papers were
receiv'd with, I was excited to try my Hand among them. But being still
a Boy, and suspecting that my Brother would object to printing any Thing
of mine in his Paper if he knew it to be mine, I contriv'd to disguise
my Hand, and writing an anonymous Paper I put it in at Night under the
Door of the Printing House. It was found in the Morning and communicated
to his Writing Friends when they call'd in as usual. They read it,
commented on it in my Hearing, and I had the exquisite Pleasure, of
finding it met with their Approbation, and that in their different
Guesses at the Author none were named but Men of some Character among us
for Learning and Ingenuity.--I suppose now that I was rather lucky in my
Judges: And that perhaps they were not really so very good ones as I
then esteem'd them. Encourag'd however by this, I wrote and convey'd in
the same Way to the Press several more Papers, which were equally
approv'd, and I kept my Secret till my small Fund of Sense for such
Performances was pretty well exhausted, and then I discovered it; when I
began to be considered a little more by my Brother's Acquaintance, and
in a manner that did not quite please him, as he thought, probably with
reason, that it tended to make me too vain. And perhaps this might be
one Occasion of the Differences that we began to have about this Time.
Tho' a Brother, he considered himself as my Master, and me as his
Apprentice; and accordingly expected the same Services from me as he
would from another; while I thought he demean'd me too much in some he
requir'd of me, who from a Brother expected more Indulgence. Our
Disputes were often brought before our Father, and I fancy I was either
generally in the right, or else a better Pleader, because the Judgment
was generally in my favour: But my Brother was passionate and had often
beaten me, which I took extreamly amiss; and thinking my Apprenticeship
very tedious, I was continually wishing for some Opportunity of
shortening it, which at length offered in a manner unexpected.[B]
[B] I fancy his harsh and tyrannical Treatment of me, might be a
means of impressing me with that Aversion to arbitrary Power
that has stuck to me thro' my whole life [_Franklin's note._]
One of the Pieces in our Newspaper, on some political Point which I have
now forgotten, gave Offence to the Assembly. He was taken up, censur'd
and imprison'd for a Month by the Speaker's Warrant, I suppose because
he would not discover his Author. I too was taken up and examin'd before
the Council; but tho' I did not give them any Satisfaction, they
contented themselves with admonishing me, and dismiss'd me; considering
me perhaps as an Apprentice who was bound to keep his Master's Secrets.
During my Brother's Confinement, which I resented a good deal,
notwithstanding our private Differences, I had the Management of the
Paper, and I made bold to give our Rulers some Rubs in it, which my
Brother took very kindly, while others began to consider me in an
unfavourable Light, as a young Genius that had a Turn for Libelling and
Satyr. My Brother's Discharge was accompany'd with an Order of the
House, (a very odd one) _that James Franklin should no longer print the
Paper called the New England Courant_. There was a Consultation held in
our Printing House among his Friends what he should do in this Case.
Some propos'd to evade the Order by changing the Name of the Paper; but
my Brother seeing Inconveniences in that, it was finally concluded on
as a better Way, to let it be printed for the future under the Name of
_Benjamin Franklin_. And to avoid the Censure of the Assembly that might
fall on him, as still printing it by his Apprentice, the Contrivance
was, that my old Indenture should be return'd to me with a full
Discharge on the Back of it, to be shown on Occasion; but to secure to
him the Benefit of my Service I was to sign new Indentures for the
Remainder of the Term, w^ch were to be kept private. A very flimsy
Scheme it was, but however it was immediately executed, and the Paper
went on accordingly under my Name for several Months. At length a fresh
Difference arising between my Brother and me, I took upon me to assert
my Freedom, presuming that he would not venture to produce the new
Indentures. It was not fair in me to take this Advantage, and this I
therefore reckon one of the first Errata of my life: But the Unfairness
of it weighed little with me, when under the Impressions of Resentment,
for the Blows his Passion too often urg'd him to bestow upon me. Tho' he
was otherwise not an ill-natur'd Man: Perhaps I was too saucy and
provoking.
When he found I would leave him, he took care to prevent my getting
Employment in any other Printing-House of the Town, by going round and
speaking to every Master, who accordingly refus'd to give me Work. I
then thought of going to New York as the nearest Place where there was a
Printer: and I was the rather inclin'd to leave Boston, when I reflected
that I had already made myself a little obnoxious to the governing
Party; and from the arbitrary Proceedings of the Assembly in my
Brother's Case it was likely I might if I stay'd soon bring myself into
Scrapes; and farther that my indiscrete Disputations about Religion
began to make me pointed at with Horror by good People, as an Infidel or
Atheist. I determin'd on the Point: but my Father now siding with my
Brother, I was sensible that if I attempted to go openly, Means would be
used to prevent me. My Friend Collins therefore undertook to manage a
little for me. He agreed with the Captain of a New York Sloop for my
Passage, under the Notion of my being a young Acquaintance of his that
had got a naughty Girl with Child, whose Friends would compel me to
marry her, and therefore I could not appear or come away publickly. So I
sold some of my Books to raise a little Money, Was taken on board
privately, and as we had a fair Wind[,] in three Days I found myself in
New York near 300 Miles from home, a Boy of but 17, without the least
Recommendation to or Knowledge of any Person in the Place, and with very
little Money in my Pocket.
My Inclinations for the Sea, were by this time worne out, or I might now
have gratify'd them. But having a Trade, and supposing myself a pretty
good Workman, I offer'd my Service to the Printer in the Place, old Mr
W^m Bradford, who had been the first Printer in Pensilvania, but remov'd
from thence upon the Quarrel of Geo. Keith.--He could give me no
Employment, having little to do, and Help enough already: But, says he,
my Son at Philadelphia has lately lost his principal Hand, Aquila Rose,
by Death. If you go thither I believe he may employ you.--Philadelphia
was 100 Miles farther. I set out, however, in a Boat for Amboy, leaving
my Chest and Things to follow me round by Sea. In crossing the Bay we
met with a Squall that tore our rotten Sails to pieces, prevented our
getting into the Kill, and drove us upon Long Island. In our Way a
drunken Dutchman, who was a Passenger too, fell overboard; when he was
sinking I reach'd thro' the Water to his shock Pate and drew him up so
that we got him in again. His ducking sober'd him a little, and he went
to sleep, taking first out of his Pocket a Book which he desir'd I would
dry for him. It prov'd to be my old favourite Author Bunyan's Pilgrim's
Progress in Dutch, finely printed on good Paper with copper Cuts, a
Dress better than I had ever seen it wear in its own Language. I have
since found that it has been translated into most of the Languages of
Europe, and suppose it has been more generally read than any other Book
except perhaps the Bible. Honest John was the first that I know of who
mix'd Narration and Dialogue, a Method of Writing very engaging to the
Reader, who in the most interesting Parts finds himself, as it were
brought into the Company, and present at the Discourse. Defoe in his
Cruso, his Moll Flanders, Religious Courtship, Family Instructor, and
other Pieces, has imitated it with Success. And Richardson has done the
same in his Pamela, etc.--
When we drew near the Island we found it was at a Place where there
could be no Landing, there being a great Surff on the stony Beach. So we
dropt Anchor and swung round towards the Shore. Some People came down to
the Water Edge and hallow'd to us, as we did to them. But the Wind was
so high and the Surff so loud, that we could not hear so as to
understand each other. There were Canoes on the Shore, and we made Signs
and hallow'd that they should fetch us, but they either did not
understand us, or thought it impracticable. So they went away, and Night
coming on, we had no Remedy but to wait till the Wind should abate, and
in the mean time the Boatman and I concluded to sleep if we could, and
so crouded into the Scuttle with the Dutchman who was still wet, and the
Spray beating over the Head of our Boat, leak'd thro' to us, so that we
were soon almost as wet as he. In this Manner we lay all Night with very
little Rest. But the Wind abating the next Day, we made a Shift to reach
Amboy before Night, having been 30 Hours on the Water without Victuals,
or any Drink but a Bottle of filthy Rum: The Water we sail'd on being
salt.--
In the Evening I found myself very feverish, and went in to Bed. But
having read somewhere that cold Water drank plentifully was good for a
Fever, I follow'd the Prescription, sweat plentifully most of the Night,
my Fever left me, and in the Morning crossing the Ferry, I proceeded on
my Journey, on foot, having 50 Miles to Burlington, where I was told I
should find Boats that would carry me the rest of the Way to
Philadelphia.
It rain'd very hard all the Day, I was thoroughly soak'd, and by Noon a
good deal tir'd, so I stopt at a poor Inn, where I staid all Night,
beginning now to wish I had never left home. I cut so miserable a Figure
too, that I found by the Questions ask'd me I was suspected to be some
runaway Servant, and in danger of being taken up on that Suspicion.
However I proceeded the next Day, and got in the Evening to an Inn
within 8 or 10 Miles of Burlington, kept by one Dr Brown.--
He ent[e]red into Conversation with me while I took some Refreshment,
and finding I had read a little, became very sociable and friendly. Our
Acquaintance continu'd as long as he liv'd. He had been, I imagine, an
itinerant Doctor, for there was no Town in England, or Country in
Europe, of which he could not give a very particular Account. He had
some Letters, and was ingenious, but much of an Unbeliever, and wickedly
undertook, some Years after to travesty the Bible in doggrel Verse as
Cotton had done Virgil. By this means he set many of the Facts in a very
ridiculous Light, and might have hurt weak minds if his Work had been
publish'd:--but it never was.--At his House I lay that Night, and the
next Morning reach'd Burlington.--But had the Mortification to find that
the regular Boats were gone, a little before my coming, and no other
expected to go till Tuesday, this being Saturday. Wherefore I returned
to an old Woman in the Town of whom I had bought Gingerbread to eat on
the Water, and ask'd her Advice; she invited me to lodge at her House
till a Passage by Water should offer: and being tired with my foot
Travelling, I accepted the Invitation. She understanding I was a
Printer, would have had me stay at that Town and follow my Business,
being ignorant of the Stock necessary to begin with. She was very
hospitable, gave me a Dinner of Ox Cheek with great Goodwill, accepting
only of a Pot of Ale in return. And I thought myself fix'd till Tuesday
should come. However walking in the Evening by the Side of the River, a
Boat came by, which I found was going towards Philadelphia, with several
People in her. They took me in, and as there was no wind, we row'd all
the Way; and about Midnight not having yet seen the City, some of the
Company were confident we must have pass'd it, and would row no farther,
the others knew not where we were, so we put towards the Shore, got into
a Creek, landed near an old Fence[,] with the Rails of which we made a
Fire, the Night being cold, in October, and there we remain'd till
Daylight. Then one of the Company knew the Place to be Cooper's Creek a
little above Philadelphia, which we saw as soon as we got out of the
Creek, and arriv'd there about 8 or 9 o'Clock, on the Sunday morning,
and landed at the Market street Wharff.--
I have been the more particular in this Description of my Journey, and
shall be so of my first Entry into that City, that you may in your Mind
compare such unlikely Beginnings with the Figure I have since made
there. I was in my Working Dress, my best Cloaths being to come round by
Sea. I was dirty from my Journey; my Pockets were stuff'd out with
Shirts and Stockings; I knew no Soul, nor where to look for Lodging. I
was fatigued with Travelling, Rowing and Want of Rest. I was very
hungry, and my whole Stock of Cash consisted of a Dutch Dollar and about
a Shilling in Copper. The latter I gave the People of the Boat for my
Passage, who at first refus'd it on Acc^t of my Rowing; but I insisted
on their taking it, a Man being sometimes more generous when he has but
a little Money than when he has plenty, perhaps thro' Fear of being
thought to have but little. Then I walk'd up the Street, gazing about,
till near the Market House I met a Boy with Bread. I had made many a
Meal on Bread, and inquiring where he got it, I went immediately to the
Baker's he directed me to in Second Street; and ask'd for Bisket,
intending such as we had in Boston, but they it seems were not made in
Philadelphia, then I ask'd for a threepenny Loaf, and was told they had
none such: so not considering or knowing the Difference of Money and the
greater Cheapness nor the Names of his Bread, I bad[e] him give me
threepenny worth of any sort. He gave me accordingly three great Puffy
Rolls. I was surpriz'd at the Quantity, but took it, and having no room
in my Pockets, walk'd off, with a Roll under each Arm, and eating the
other. Thus I went up Market Street as far as fourth Street, passing by
the Door of Mr. Read, my future Wife's Father, when she standing at the
Door saw me, and thought I made as I certainly did a most awkward
ridiculous Appearance. Then I turn'd and went down Chestnut Street and
part of Walnut Street, eating my Roll all the Way, and coming round
found myself again at Market Street Wharff, near the Boat I came in, to
which I went for a Draught of the River Water, and being fill'd with one
of my Rolls, gave the other two to a Woman and her Child that came down
the River in the Boat with us and were waiting to go farther. Thus
refresh'd I walk'd again, up the Street, which by this time had many
clean dress'd People in it who were all walking the same Way; I join'd
them, and thereby was led into the great Meeting House of the Quakers
near the Market. I sat down among them, and after looking round awhile
and hearing nothing said; being very drowsy thro' Labour and want of
Rest the preceding Night, I fell fast asleep, and continu'd so till the
Meeting broke up, when one was kind enough to rouse me. This was
therefore the first House I was in or slept in, in Philadelphia.--
Walking again down towards the River, and looking in the Faces of
People, I met a young Quaker Man whose Countenance I lik'd, and
accosting him requested he would tell me where a Stranger could get
Lodging. We were then near the Sign of the Three Mariners. Here, says
he, is one Place that entertains Strangers, but it is not a reputable
House; if thee wilt walk with me, I'll show thee a better. He brought me
to the Crooked Billet in Water Street. Here I got a Dinner. And while I
was eating it, several sly Questions were ask'd me, as it seem'd to be
suspected from my youth and Appearance, that I might be some Runaway.
After Dinner my Sleepiness return'd: and being shown to a Bed, I lay
down without undressing, and slept till Six in the Evening; was call'd
to Supper; went to Bed again very early and slept soundly till next
Morning. Then I made myself as tidy as I could, and went to Andrew
Bradford the Printer's. I found in the Shop the old Man his Father, whom
I had seen at New York, and who travelling on horseback had got to
Philadelphia before me. He introduc'd me to his Son, who receiv'd me
civilly, gave me a Breakfast, but told me he did not at present want a
Hand, being lately supply'd with one. But there was another Printer in
town lately set up, one Keimer, who perhaps might employ me; if not, I
should be welcome to lodge at his House, and he would give me a little
Work to do now and then till fuller Business should offer.