{"id":276,"date":"2021-02-16T18:12:07","date_gmt":"2021-02-16T18:12:07","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/courses.lumenlearning.com\/suny-empire-amliterature\/?post_type=chapter&#038;p=276"},"modified":"2021-07-12T13:43:08","modified_gmt":"2021-07-12T13:43:08","slug":"benjamin-franklin-excerpts-autobiography-the-way-to-wealth","status":"publish","type":"chapter","link":"https:\/\/courses.lumenlearning.com\/suny-empire-amliterature\/chapter\/benjamin-franklin-excerpts-autobiography-the-way-to-wealth\/","title":{"raw":"Benjamin Franklin, Autobiography","rendered":"Benjamin Franklin, Autobiography"},"content":{"raw":"<h2>Introduction: Benjamin Franklin (1706-1790)<\/h2>\r\n<section class=\"mt-content-container\"><img class=\"alignleft wp-image-281 size-medium\" src=\"https:\/\/s3-us-west-2.amazonaws.com\/courses-images\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/5583\/2021\/02\/16184809\/128-239x300.png\" alt=\"Benjamin Franklin\" width=\"239\" height=\"300\" \/>Born in Boston, Benjamin Franklin was the youngest son of the youngest son five generations back. His father, Josiah Franklin, left Northamptonshire, England for America in reaction against the Church of England. Though he tried to have his son educated formally by enrolling him in the Boston Grammar School, Josiah was forced by financial circumstances to bring Benjamin into his tallow chandler and soap boiling business. Franklin hated the business, particularly the smell, so he was eventually apprenticed to his brother James, who had learned the printing trade in England and started a newspaper, The New England Courant.<\/section><section class=\"mt-content-container\">\u00a0<\/section>Franklin took to printing and the printed word, reading voraciously not only the business\u2019s publications but also the books loaned to him by its patrons and friends. Through reading and using texts as models, Franklin acquired great facility in writing. An editorial he wrote under the pseudonym of \u201cSilence Dogood\u201d was published by his brother, who had no idea of the piece\u2019s true authorship. James was imprisoned after quarreling with Massachusetts authorities, leaving Franklin to run the business during his absence. Franklin was only sixteen.\r\n\r\nJames also quarreled with Benjamin, who sought freedom from James\u2019s temper and tyranny by running away, determined to make his own way in the world. In 1723, he arrived in Philadelphia and walked up the Market Street wharf munching on one of three large puffy rolls and carrying small change in his pocket. He found work as a printer there until, upon what proved to be the groundless encouragement of William Keith (1669\u20131749), a governor of the province, Franklin traveled to England to purchase printing equipment and start a new printing business of his own. He worked for others at printing houses for two years before returning home. While in England, he also read widely, and saw first-hand the growing importance of the periodical, the long periodical essay, and the persona of an author who served as intermediary between a large audience of readers and the news and events of the day.\r\n\r\nHe put this knowledge to good purpose once he returned to Philadelphia, first co-owning then owning outright a new printing business that published The Pennsylvania Gazette; books from the Continent; and, from 1733 to 1758, an almanac using the persona of Poor Richard, or Richard Saunders. Poor Richard\u2019s Almanac became immensely popular, eventually selling 10,000 copies per year. With wit, puns, and word play, Franklin offered distinctly American aphorisms, maxims, and proverbs on reason versus faith, household management, thrift, the work ethic, and good manners.\r\n\r\nIn 1730, he married Deborah Read who bore two children and helped raise Franklin\u2019s illegitimate son William. It was for William that Franklin wrote the first part of The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin. The quintessential selfmade man, his business success allowed Franklin to retire at the age of forty-two and focus his energies on the common good and public affairs. He had already contributed a great deal to both, including inventing an eponymous stove and founding the first circulating library; the American Philosophical Society; and the Pennsylvania Hospital. He also promoted the establishment of the University of Pennsylvania, an institution of higher learning grounded in secular education.\r\n\r\nHe applied the tenets of this education in first-hand observation and study of the natural world, from earthquakes to electricity. His Experiments and Observations on Electricity (1751\u20131753) won him the respect of scientists around the world. Like other humanist-deist thinkers of his day, Franklin used reason to overcome institutional tyrannies over mind and body. Between the years 1757 and 1775, he actively sought to overcome England\u2019s tyranny over the colonies in two separate diplomatic missions to England, representing Pennsylvania, Georgia, Massachusetts, and New Jersey and also protesting the Stamp Act.\r\n\r\nThe rising sense of injustice against England led to the First and then the Second Continental Congresses, at the latter of which Franklin represented Pennsylvania and served with Thomas Jefferson on the committee that drafted the 1776 Declaration of Independence, a declaration that represented all thirteen colonies. Central to the beginning of the American Revolution, Franklin was also central to its end in 1783 through the Treaty of Paris that he, John Jay, and John Adams shaped and signed. And he helped shape the future of the United States of America by serving on the Constitutional Convention that wrote the Constitution and the Bill of Rights.\r\n\r\nThroughout all these great actions and events, Franklin wrote didactic works leavened by an extraordinary blend of worldliness and earnestness and enlivened by wit, humor, and sometimes deceptive irony.\r\n\r\n<footer class=\"elm-content-footer\"><\/footer>\r\n<h2 class=\"mt-content-footer\">The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin (Excerpts)<\/h2>\r\n<h3>Part I (1789)<\/h3>\r\n<footer>This obscure family of ours was early in the Reformation, and continued Protestants through the reign of Queen Mary, when they were sometimes in danger of trouble on account of their zeal against popery. They had got an English Bible, and to conceal and secure it, it was fastened open with tapes under and within the cover of a joint-stool. When my great-great-grandfather read it to his family, he turned up the joint-stool upon his knees, turning over the leaves then under the tapes. One of the children stood at the door to give notice if he saw the apparitor coming, who was an officer of the spiritual court. In that case the stool was turned down again upon its feet, when the Bible remained concealed under it as before. This anecdote I had from my uncle Benjamin. The family continued all of the Church of England till about the end of Charles the Second\u2019s reign, when some of the ministers that had been outed for nonconformity holding conventicles in Northamptonshire, Benjamin and Josiah adhered to them, and so continued all their lives: the rest of the family remained with the Episcopal Church.eir lives: the rest of the family remained with the Episcopal Church. Josiah, my father, married young, and carried his wife with three children into New England, about 1682. The conventicles having been forbidden by law, and frequently disturbed, induced some considerable men of his acquaintance to remove to that country, and he was prevailed with to accompany them thither, where they expected to enjoy their mode of religion with freedom. By the same wife he had four children more born there, and by a second wife ten more, in all seventeen; of which I remember thirteen sitting at one time at his table, who all grew up to be men and women, and married; I was the youngest son, and the youngest child but two, and was born in Boston, New England. My mother, the second wife, was Abiah Folger, daughter of Peter Folger, one of the first settlers of New England, of whom honorable mention is made by Cotton Mather, in his church history of that country, entitled Magnalia Christi Americana, as \u201ca godly, learned Englishman,\u201d if I remember the words rightly. I have heard that he wrote sundry small occasional pieces, but only one of them was printed, which I saw now many years since. It was written in 1675, in the home-spun verse of that time and people, and addressed to those then concerned in the government there. It was in favor of liberty of conscience, and in behalf of the Baptists, Quakers, and other sectaries that had been under persecution, ascribing the Indian wars, and other distresses that had befallen the country, to that persecution, as so many judgments of God to punish so heinous an offense, and exhorting a repeal of those uncharitable laws. The whole appeared to me as written with a good deal of decent plainness and manly freedom. The six concluding lines I remember, though I have forgotten the two first of the stanza; but the purport of them was, that his censures proceeded from good-will, and, therefore, he would be known to be the author.\r\n<p class=\"mt-indent-1\">\u201cBecause to be a libeller (says he)\r\nI hate it with my heart;\r\nFrom Sherburne town, where now I dwell\r\nMy name I do put here;\r\nWithout offense your real friend,\r\nIt is Peter Folgier.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<img class=\"alignright wp-image-321 size-medium\" src=\"https:\/\/s3-us-west-2.amazonaws.com\/courses-images\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/5583\/2021\/02\/17213816\/128-300x200.jpg\" alt=\"candle and candle extinguisher\" width=\"300\" height=\"200\" \/>\r\n\r\nMy elder brothers were all put apprentices to different trades. I was put to the grammar-school at eight years of age, my father intending to devote me, as the tithe of his sons, to the service of the Church. My early readiness in learning to read (which must have been very early, as I do not remember when I could not read), and the opinion of all his friends, that I should certainly make a good scholar, encouraged him in this purpose of his. My uncle Benjamin, too, approved of it, and proposed to give me all his short-hand volumes of sermons, I suppose as a stock to set up with, if I would learn his character. I continued, however, at the grammar-school not quite one year, though in that time I had risen gradually from the middle of the class of that year to be the head of it, and farther was removed into the next class above it, in order to go with that into the third at the end of the year. But my father, in the meantime, from a view of the expense of a college education, which having so large a family he could not well afford, and the mean living many so educated were afterwards able to obtain\u2014reasons that he gave to his friends in my hearing\u2014altered his first intention, took me from the grammar-school, and sent me to a school for writing and arithmetic, kept by a then famous man, Mr. George Brownell, very successful in his profession generally, and that by mild, encouraging methods. Under him I acquired fair writing pretty soon, but I failed in the arithmetic, and made no progress in it. At ten years old I was taken home to assist my father in his business, which was that of a tallow-chandler and sope-boiler; a business 11 he was not bred to, but had assumed on his arrival in New England, and on finding his dying trade would not maintain his family, being in little request. Accordingly, I was employed in cutting wick for the candles, filling the dipping mold and the molds for cast candles, attending the shop, going of errands, etc.\r\n\r\nI disliked the trade, and had a strong inclination for the sea, but my father declared against it; however, living near the water, I was much in and about it, learnt early to swim well, and to manage boats; and when in a boat or canoe with other boys, I was commonly allowed to govern, especially in any case of difficulty; and upon other occasions I was generally a leader among the boys, and sometimes led them into scrapes, of which I will mention one instance, as it shows an early projecting public spirit, tho\u2019 not then justly conducted.\r\n\r\nThere was a salt-marsh that bounded part of the mill-pond, on the edge of which, at high water, we used to stand to fish for minnows. By much trampling, we had made it a mere quagmire. My proposal was to build a wharff there fit for us to stand upon, and I showed my comrades a large heap of stones, which were intended for a new house near the marsh, and which would very well suit our purpose. Accordingly, in the evening, when the workmen were gone, I assembled a number of my play-fellows, and working with them diligently like so many emmets, sometimes two or three to a stone, we brought them all away and built our little wharff. The next morning the workmen were surprised at missing the stones, which were found in our wharff. Inquiry was made after the removers; we were discovered and complained of; several of us were corrected by our fathers; and though I pleaded the usefulness of the work, mine convinced me that nothing was useful which was not honest.\r\n\r\nI think you may like to know something of his person and character. He had an excellent constitution of body, was of middle stature, but well set, and very strong; he was ingenious, could draw prettily, was skilled a little in music, and had a clear pleasing voice, so that when he played psalm tunes on his violin and sung withal, as he sometimes 12 did in an evening after the business of the day was over, it was extremely agreeable to hear. He had a mechanical genius too, and, on occasion, was very handy in the use of other tradesmen\u2019s tools; but his great excellence lay in a sound understanding and solid judgment in prudential matters, both in private and publick affairs. In the latter, indeed, he was never employed, the numerous family he had to educate and the straitness of his circumstances keeping him close to his trade; but I remember well his being frequently visited by leading people, who consulted him for his opinion in affairs of the town or of the church he belonged to, and showed a good deal of respect for his judgment and advice: he was also much consulted by private persons about their affairs when any difficulty occurred, and frequently chosen an arbitrator between contending parties.\r\n\r\nAt his table he liked to have, as often as he could, some sensible friend or neighbor to converse with, and always took care to start some ingenious or useful topic for discourse, which might tend to improve the minds of his children. By this means he turned our attention to what was good, just, and prudent in the conduct of life; and little or no notice was ever taken of what related to the victuals on the table, whether it was well or ill dressed, in or out of season, of good or bad flavor, preferable or inferior to this or that other thing of the kind, so that I was bro\u2019t up in such a perfect inattention to those matters as to be quite indifferent what kind of food was set before me, and so unobservant of it, that to this day if I am asked I can scarce tell a few hours after dinner what I dined upon. This has been a convenience to me in travelling, where my companions have been sometimes very unhappy for want of a suitable gratification of their more delicate, because better instructed, tastes and appetites.\r\n\r\nMy mother had likewise an excellent constitution: she suckled all her ten children. I never knew either my father or mother to have any sickness but that of which they dy\u2019d, he at 89, and she at 85 years of age. They lie buried together at Boston, where I some years since placed a marble over their grave, with this inscription:\r\n<p class=\"mt-indent-1\">JOSIAH FRANKLIN,\r\nand\r\nABIAH his wife,\r\nlie here interred.\r\nThey lived lovingly together in wedlock fifty-five years.\r\nWithout an estate, or any gainful employment,\r\nBy constant labor and industry,\r\nwith God\u2019s blessing,\r\nThey maintained a large family comfortably,\r\nand brought up thirteen children\r\nand seven grandchildren reputably.\r\nFrom this instance, reader,\r\nBe encouraged to diligence in thy calling,\r\nAnd distrust not Providence.\r\nHe was a pious and prudent man;\r\nShe, a discreet and virtuous woman.\r\nTheir youngest son,\r\nIn filial regard to their memory,\r\nPlaces this stone.\r\nJ.F. born 1655, died 1744, \u00c6tat 89.\r\nA.F. born 1667, died 1752,\u2014\u2014\u201485.<\/p>\r\nBy my rambling digressions I perceive myself to be grown old. I us\u2019d to write more methodically. But one does not dress for private company as for a publick ball. \u2018Tis perhaps only negligence.\r\n\r\nTo return: I continued thus employed in my father\u2019s business for two years, that is, till I was twelve years old; and my brother John, who was bred to that business, having left my father, married, and set up for himself at Rhode Island, there was all appearance that I was destined to supply his place, and become a tallow-chandler. But my dislike to the trade continuing, my father was under apprehensions that if he did not find one for me more agreeable, I should break away and get to sea, as his son Josiah had done, to his great vexation. He therefore sometimes took me to walk with him, and see joiners, bricklayers, turners, braziers, etc., at their work, that he might observe my inclination, and endeavor to fix it on some trade or other on land. It has ever since been a pleasure to me to see good workmen handle their tools; and it has been useful to me, having learnt so much by it as to be able to do little jobs myself in my house when a workman could not readily be got, and to construct little machines for my experiments, while the intention of making the experiment was fresh and warm in my mind. My father at last fixed upon the cutler\u2019s trade, and my uncle Benjamin\u2019s son Samuel, who was bred to that business in London, being about that time established in Boston, I was sent to be with him some time on liking. But his expectations of a fee with me displeasing my father, I was taken home again.\r\n\r\nFrom a child I was fond of reading, and all the little money that came into my hands was ever laid out in books. Pleased with the Pilgrim\u2019s Progress, my first collection was of John Bunyan\u2019s works in separate little volumes. I afterward sold them to enable me to buy R. Burton\u2019s Historical Collections; they were small chapmen\u2019s books, and cheap, 40 or 50 in all. My father\u2019s little library consisted chiefly of books in polemic divinity, most of which I read, and have since often regretted that, at a time when I had such a thirst for knowledge, more proper books had not fallen in my way since it was now resolved I should not be a clergyman. Plutarch\u2019s Lives there was in which I read abundantly, and I still think that time spent to great advantage. There was also a book of De Foe\u2019s, called an Essay on Projects, and another of Dr. Mather\u2019s, called Essays to do Good, which perhaps gave me a turn of thinking that had an influence on some of the principal future events of my life.\r\n\r\nThis bookish inclination at length determined my father to make me a printer, though he had already one son (James) of that profession. In 1717 my brother James returned from England with a press and letters to set up his business in Boston. I liked it much better than that of my father, but still had a hankering for the sea. To prevent the apprehended effect of such an inclination, my father was impatient to have me bound to my brother. I stood out some time, but at last was persuaded, and signed the indentures when I was yet but twelve years old. I was to serve as an apprentice till I was twenty-one years of age, only I was to be allowed journeyman\u2019s wages during the last year. In a little time I made great proficiency in the 15 business, and became a useful hand to my brother. I now had access to better books. An acquaintance with the apprentices of booksellers enabled me sometimes to borrow a small one, which I was careful to return soon and clean. Often I sat up in my room reading the greatest part of the night, when the book was borrowed in the evening and to be returned early in the morning, lest it should be missed or wanted.\r\n\r\nAnd after some time an ingenious tradesman, Mr. Matthew Adams, who had a pretty collection of books, and who frequented our printing-house, took notice of me, invited me to his library, and very kindly lent me such books as I chose to read. I now took a fancy to poetry, and made some little pieces; my brother, thinking it might turn to account, encouraged me, and put me on composing occasional ballads. One was called The Lighthouse Tragedy, and contained an account of the drowning of Captain Worthilake, with his two daughters: the other was a sailor\u2019s song, on the taking of Teach (or Blackbeard) the pirate. They were wretched stuff, in the Grub-street-ballad style; and when they were printed he sent me about the town to sell them. The first sold wonderfully, the event being recent, having made a great noise. This flattered my vanity; but my father discouraged me by ridiculing my performances, and telling me verse-makers were generally beggars. So I escaped being a poet, most probably a very bad one; but as prose writing had been of great use to me in the course of my life, and was a principal means of my advancement, I shall tell you how, in such a situation, I acquired what little ability I have in that way.\r\n\r\nThere was another bookish lad in the town, John Collins by name, with whom I was intimately acquainted. We sometimes disputed, and very fond we were of argument, and very desirous of confuting one another, which disputatious turn, by the way, is apt to become a very bad habit, making people often extremely disagreeable in company by the contradiction that is necessary to bring it into practice; and thence, besides souring and spoiling the conversation, is productive of disgusts and, perhaps enmities where you may have occasion for friendship. I had caught it by reading my father\u2019s books of dispute about religion. Persons of good sense, I have since observed, seldom fall into it, except lawyers, university men, and men of all sorts that have been bred at Edinborough.\r\n\r\nA question was once, somehow or other, started between Collins and me, of the propriety of educating the female sex in learning, and their abilities for study. He was of opinion that it was improper, and that they were naturally unequal to it. I took the contrary side, perhaps a little for dispute\u2019s sake. He was naturally more eloquent, had a ready plenty of words; and sometimes, as I thought, bore me down more by his fluency than by the strength of his reasons. As we parted without settling the point, and were not to see one another again for some time, I sat down to put my arguments in writing, which I copied fair and sent to him. He answered, and I replied. Three or four letters of a side had passed, when my father happened to find my papers and read them. Without entering into the discussion, he took occasion to talk to me about the manner of my writing; observed that, though I had the advantage of my antagonist in correct spelling and pointing (which I ow\u2019d to the printing-house), I fell far short in elegance of expression, in method and in perspicuity, of which he convinced me by several instances. I saw the justice of his remark, and thence grew more attentive to the manner in writing, and determined to endeavor at improvement.\r\n\r\nAbout this time I met with an odd volume of the Spectator. It was the third. I had never before seen any of them. I bought it, read it over and over, and was much delighted with it. I thought the writing excellent, and wished, if possible, to imitate it. With this view I took some of the papers, and, making short hints of the sentiment in each sentence, laid them by a few days, and then, without looking at the book, try\u2019d to compleat the papers again, by expressing each hinted sentiment at length, and as fully as it had been expressed before, in any suitable words that should come to hand. Then I compared my Spectator with the original, discovered some of my 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 acquired 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 turned them into verse; and, after a time, when I had pretty well forgotten the prose, turned them back again. I also sometimes jumbled my collections of hints into confusion, and after some weeks endeavored 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 discovered 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 encouraged me to think I might possibly in time come to be a tolerable English writer, of which I was extremely 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 public worship which my father used to exact on me when I was under his care, and which indeed I still thought a duty, though I could not, as it seemed to me, afford time to practise it.\r\n\r\nWhen about 16 years of age I happened 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\u2019s manner of preparing some of his dishes, such as boiling potatoes or rice, making hasty pudding, and a few others, and then proposed 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 remained there alone, and, despatching 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 pastrycook\u2019s, 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.\r\n\r\nAnd now it was that, being on some occasion made asham\u2019d of my ignorance in figures, which I had twice failed in learning when at school, I took Cocker\u2019s book of Arithmetick, and went through the whole by myself with great ease. I also read Seller\u2019s and Shermy\u2019s 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 Messrs. du Port Royal.\r\n\r\nWhile I was intent on improving my language, I met with an English grammar (I think it was Greenwood\u2019s), 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\u2019d Xenophon\u2019s Memorable Things of Socrates, wherein there are many instances of the same method. I was charm\u2019d with it, adopted it, dropt my abrupt contradiction and positive argumentation, and put on the humble inquirer 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 used it; therefore I took a delight in it, practis\u2019d 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\u2019d 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 advanced 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 apprehend a thing to be so and 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\u2019d in promoting; and, as the chief ends of conversation are to inform or to be informed, to please or to persuade, I wish well-meaning, 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 to us, to wit, giving or receiving information or pleasure. For, if you would inform, a positive and 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\u2019d 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:\r\n<p class=\"mt-indent-1\">\u201cMen should be taught as if you taught them not,\r\nAnd things unknown propos\u2019d as things forgot;\u201d<\/p>\r\nfarther recommending to us\r\n<p class=\"mt-indent-1\">\u201cTo speak, tho\u2019 sure, with seeming diffidence.\u201d<\/p>\r\nAnd he might have coupled with this line that which he has coupled with another, I think, less properly,\r\n<p class=\"mt-indent-1\">\u201cFor want of modesty is want of sense.\u201d<\/p>\r\nIf you ask, Why less properly? I must repeat the lines,\r\n<p class=\"mt-indent-1\">\u201cImmodest words admit of no defense,\r\nFor want of modesty is want of sense.\u201d<\/p>\r\nNow, 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?\r\n<p class=\"mt-indent-1\">\u201cImmodest words admit but this defense,\r\nThat want of modesty is want of sense.\u201d<\/p>\r\nThis, however, I should submit to better judgments.\r\n\r\nMy brother had, in 1720 or 1721, begun to print a newspaper. It was the second that appeared in America, and was called the New England Courant. 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 fiveand-twenty. He went on, however, with the undertaking, and after having worked in composing the types and printing off the sheets, I was employed to carry the papers thro\u2019 the streets to the customers.\r\n\r\nHe had some ingenious men among his friends, who amus\u2019d themselves by writing little pieces for this paper, which gain\u2019d 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 received with, I was excited to try my hand among them; but, being still a boy, and suspecting that my brother would object to printing anything of mine in his paper if he knew it to be mine, I contrived 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\u2019d 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\u2019d them.\r\n\r\nEncourag\u2019d, however, by this, I wrote and convey\u2019d in the same way to the press several more papers which were equally approv\u2019d; 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\u2019s 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. Though 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\u2019d me too much in some he requir\u2019d 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 favor. 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.\r\n\r\nOne of the pieces in our newspaper on some political point, which I have now forgotten, gave offense to the Assembly. He was taken up, censur\u2019d, and imprison\u2019d for a month, by the speaker\u2019s warrant, I suppose, because he would not discover his author. I too was taken up and examin\u2019d before the council; but, tho\u2019 I did not give them any satisfaction, they content\u2019d themselves with admonishing me, and dismissed me, considering me, perhaps, as an apprentice, who was bound to keep his master\u2019s secrets.\r\n\r\nDuring my brother\u2019s 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 unfavorable light, as a young genius that had a turn for libelling and satyr. My brother\u2019s discharge was accompany\u2019d with an order of the House (a very odd one), that \u201cJames Franklin should no longer print the paper called the New England Courant.\u201d\r\n\r\nThere was a consultation held in our printing-house among his friends, what he should do in this case. Some proposed 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\u2019d 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, which were to be kept private. A very flimsy scheme it was; however, it was immediately executed, and the paper went on accordingly, under my name for several months.\r\n\r\nAt 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 urged him to bestow upon me, though he was otherwise not an ill-natur\u2019d man: perhaps I was too saucy and provoking.\r\n\r\nWhen 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\u2019d to give me work. I then thought of going to New York, as the nearest place where there was a printer; and I was rather inclin\u2019d 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\u2019s case, it was likely I might, if I stay\u2019d, 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\u2019d 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 publicly. 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.\r\n\r\nMy inclinations for the sea were by this time worne out, or I might now have gratify\u2019d them. But, having a trade, and supposing myself a pretty good workman, I offer\u2019d my service to the printer in the place, old Mr. William Bradford, who had been the first printer in Pennsylvania, but removed from thence upon the quarrel of George Keith. He could give me no employment, having little to do, and help enough already; but says he, \u201cMy son at Philadelphia has lately lost his principal hand, Aquila Rose, by death; if you go thither, I believe he may employ you.\u201d Philadelphia was a hundred miles further; I set out, however, in a boat for Amboy, leaving my chest and things to follow me round by sea.\r\n\r\n<\/footer>\r\n<div class=\"elm-article-feedback\">\r\n<div class=\"mt-feedback-rating-container\">\r\n\r\n<hr \/>\r\n<p class=\"\">I have been the more particular in this description of my journey, and shall be so of my first entry into that city [Philadelphia], 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\u2019d out with shirts and stockings, and 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\u2019d it, on account 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\u2019 fear of being thought to have but little.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">Then I walked 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\u2019s he directed me to, in Second-street, and ask\u2019d for bisket, intending such as we had in Boston; but they, it seems, were not made in Philadelphia. Then I asked for a three-penny 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 made him give me three-penny worth of any sort. He gave me, accordingly, three great puffy rolls. I was surpriz\u2019d at the quantity, but took it, and, having no room in my pockets, walk\u2019d 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\u2019s father; when she, standing at the door, saw me, and thought I made, as I certainly did, a most awkward, ridiculous appearance. Then I turned 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 wharf, near the boat I came in, to which I went for a draught of the river water; and, being filled 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.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">Thus refreshed, I walked again up the street, which by this time had many clean-dressed people in it, who were all walking the same way. I joined 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\u2019 labor and want of rest the preceding night, I fell fast asleep, and continued 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.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">Walking down again toward the river, and, looking in the faces of people, I met a young Quaker man, whose countenance I lik\u2019d, and, accosting him, requested he would tell me where a stranger could get lodging. We were then near the sign of the Three Mariners. \u201cHere,\u201d says he, \u201cis one place that entertains strangers, but it is not a reputable house; if thee wilt walk with me, I\u2019ll show thee a better.\u201d 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 asked me, as it seemed to be suspected from my youth and appearance, that I might be some runaway.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">After dinner, my sleepiness return\u2019d, and being shown to a bed, I lay down without undressing, and slept till six in the evening, was call\u2019d 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\u2019s. 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\u2019d me to his son, who receiv\u2019d me civilly, gave me a breakfast, but told me he did not at present want a hand, being lately suppli\u2019d 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.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">The old gentleman said he would go with me to the new printer; and when we found him, \u201cNeighbor,\u201d says Bradford, \u201cI have brought to see you a young man of your business; perhaps you may want such a one.\u201d He ask\u2019d me a few questions, put a composing stick in my hand to see how I work\u2019d, and then said he would employ me soon, though he had just then nothing for me to do; and, taking old Bradford, whom he had never seen before, to be one of the town\u2019s people that had a good will for him, enter\u2019d into a conversation on his present undertaking and prospects; while Bradford, not discovering that he was the other printer\u2019s father, on Keimer\u2019s saying he expected soon to get the greatest part of the business into his own hands, drew him on by artful questions, and starting little doubts, to explain all his views, what interests he reli\u2019d on, and in what manner he intended to proceed. I, who stood by and heard all, saw immediately that one of them was a crafty old sophister, and the other a mere novice. Bradford left me with Keimer, who was greatly surpris\u2019d when I told him who the old man was.<\/p>\r\n<img class=\"alignleft wp-image-323 size-medium\" src=\"https:\/\/s3-us-west-2.amazonaws.com\/courses-images\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/5583\/2021\/02\/17214718\/22-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"old printing press\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" \/>\r\n<p class=\"\">Keimer\u2019s printing-house, I found, consisted of an old shatter\u2019d press, and one small, worn-out font of English which he was then using himself, composing an Elegy on Aquila Rose, before mentioned, an ingenious young man, of excellent character, much respected in the town, clerk of the Assembly, and a pretty poet. Keimer made verses too, but very indifferently. He could not be said to write them, for his manner was to compose them in the types directly out of his head. So there being no copy, but one pair of cases, and the Elegy likely to require all the letter, no one could help him. I endeavor\u2019d to put his press (which he had not yet us\u2019d, and of which he understood nothing) into order fit to be work\u2019d with; and, promising to come and print off his Elegy as soon as he should have got it ready, I return\u2019d to Bradford\u2019s, who gave me a little job to do for the present, and there I lodged and dieted. A few days after, Keimer sent for me to print off the Elegy. And now he had got another pair of cases, and a pamphlet to reprint, on which he set me to work.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">These two printers I found poorly qualified for their business. Bradford had not been bred to it, and was very illiterate; and Keimer, tho\u2019 something of a scholar, was a mere compositor, knowing nothing of presswork. He had been one of the French prophets, and could act their enthusiastic agitations. At this time he did not profess any particular religion, but something of all on occasion; was very ignorant of the world, and had, as I afterward found, a good deal of the knave in his composition. He did not like my lodging at Bradford\u2019s while I work\u2019d with him. He had a house, indeed, but without furniture, so he could not lodge me; but he got me a lodging at Mr. Read\u2019s, before mentioned, who was the owner of his house; and, my chest and clothes being come by this time, I made rather a more respectable appearance in the eyes of Miss Read than I had done when she first happen\u2019d to see me eating my roll in the street.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">I began now to have some acquaintance among the young people of the town, that were lovers of reading, with whom I spent my evenings very pleasantly; and gaining money by my industry and frugality, I lived very agreeably, forgetting Boston as much as I could, and not desiring that any there should know where I resided, except my friend Collins, who was in my secret, and kept it when I wrote to him. At length, an incident happened that sent me back again much sooner than I had intended. I had a brother-in-law, Robert Holmes, master of a sloop that traded between Boston and Delaware. He being at Newcastle, forty miles below Philadelphia, heard there of me, and wrote me a letter mentioning the concern of my friends in Boston at my abrupt departure, assuring me of their good will to me, and that every thing would be accommodated to my mind if I would return, to which he exhorted me very earnestly. I wrote an answer to his letter, thank\u2019d him for his advice, but stated my reasons for quitting Boston fully and in such a light as to convince him I was not so wrong as he had apprehended.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">Sir William Keith, governor of the province, was then at Newcastle, and Captain Holmes, happening to be in company with him when my letter came to hand, spoke to him of me, and show\u2019d him the letter. The governor read it, and seem\u2019d surpris\u2019d when he was told my age. He said I appear\u2019d a young man of promising parts, and therefore should be encouraged; the printers at Philadelphia were wretched ones; and, if I would set up there, he made no doubt I should succeed; for his part, he would procure me the public business, and do me every other service in his power. This my brother-in-law afterwards told me in Boston, but I knew as yet nothing of it; when, one day, Keimer and I being at work together near the window, we saw the governor and another gentleman (which proved to be Colonel French, of Newcastle), finely dress\u2019d, come directly across the street to our house, and heard them at the door.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">Keimer ran down immediately, thinking it a visit to him; but the governor inquir\u2019d for me, came up, and with a condescension of politeness I had been quite unus\u2019d to, made me many compliments, desired to be acquainted with me, blam\u2019d me kindly for not having made myself known to him when I first came to the place, and would have me away with him to the tavern, where he was going with Colonel French to taste, as he said, some excellent Madeira. I was not a little surprised, and Keimer star\u2019d like a pig poison\u2019d. I went, however, with the governor and Colonel French to a tavern, at the corner of Third-street, and over the Madeira he propos\u2019d my setting up my business, laid before me the probabilities of success, and both he and Colonel French assur\u2019d me I should have their interest and influence in procuring the public business of both governments. On my doubting whether my father would assist me in it, Sir William said he would give me a letter to him, in which he would state the advantages, and he did not doubt of prevailing with him. So it was concluded I should return to Boston in the first vessel, with the governor\u2019s letter recommending me to my father. In the mean time the intention was to be kept a secret, and I went on working with Keimer as usual, the governor sending for me now and then to dine with him, a very great honor I thought it, and conversing with me in the most affable, familiar, and friendly manner imaginable.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">About the end of April, 1724, a little vessel offer\u2019d for Boston. I took leave of Keimer as going to see my friends. The governor gave me an ample letter, saying many flattering things of me to my father, and strongly recommending the project of my setting up at Philadelphia as a thing that must make my fortune. We struck on a shoal in going down the bay, and sprung a leak; we had a blustering time at sea, and were oblig\u2019d to pump almost continually, at which I took my turn. We arriv\u2019d safe, however, at Boston in about a fortnight. I had been absent seven months, and my friends had heard nothing of me; for my br. Holmes was not yet return\u2019d, and had not written about me. My unexpected appearance surpriz\u2019d the family; all were, however, very glad to see me, and made me welcome, except my brother. I went to see him at his printing-house. I was better dress\u2019d than ever while in his service, having a genteel new suit from head to foot, a watch, and my pockets lin\u2019d with near five pounds sterling in silver. He receiv\u2019d me not very frankly, look\u2019d me all over, and turn\u2019d to his work again.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">The journeymen were inquisitive where I had been, what sort of a country it was, and how I lik\u2019d it. I prais\u2019d it much, the happy life I led in it, expressing strongly my intention of returning to it; and, one of them asking what kind of money we had there, I produc\u2019d a handful of silver, and spread it before them, which was a kind of raree-show they had not been us\u2019d to, paper being the money of Boston. Then I took an opportunity of letting them see my watch; and, lastly (my brother still grum and sullen), I gave them a piece of eight to drink, and took my leave. This visit of mine offended him extreamly; for, when my mother some time after spoke to him of a reconciliation, and of her wishes to see us on good terms together, and that we might live for the future as brothers, he said I had insulted him in such a manner before his people that he could never forget or forgive it. In this, however, he was mistaken.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">My father received the governor\u2019s letter with some apparent surprise, but said little of it to me for some days, when Capt. Holmes returning he showed it to him, ask\u2019d him if he knew Keith, and what kind of man he was; adding his opinion that he must be of small discretion to think of setting a boy up in business who wanted yet three years of being at man\u2019s estate. Holmes said what he could in favor of the project, but my father was clear in the impropriety of it, and at last gave a flat denial to it. Then he wrote a civil letter to Sir William, thanking him for the patronage he had so kindly offered me, but declining to assist me as yet in setting up, I being, in his opinion, too young to be trusted with the management of a business so important, and for which the preparation must be so expensive.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">My friend and companion Collins, who was a clerk in the post-office, pleas\u2019d with the account I gave him of my new country, determined to go thither also; and, while I waited for my father\u2019s determination, he set out before me by land to Rhode Island, leaving his books, which were a pretty collection of mathematicks and natural philosophy, to come with mine and me to New York, where he propos\u2019d to wait for me.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">My father, tho\u2019 he did not approve Sir William\u2019s proposition, was yet pleas\u2019d that I had been able to obtain so advantageous a character from a person of such note where I had resided, and that I had been so industrious and careful as to equip myself so handsomely in so short a time; therefore, seeing no prospect of an accommodation between my brother and me, he gave his consent to my returning again to Philadelphia, advis\u2019d me to behave respectfully to the people there, endeavor to obtain the general esteem, and avoid lampooning and libeling, to which he thought I had too much inclination; telling me, that by steady industry and a prudent parsimony I might save enough by the time I was one-and-twenty to set me up; and that, if I came near the matter, he would help me out with the rest. This was all I could obtain, except some small gifts as tokens of his and my mother\u2019s love, when I embark\u2019d again for New York, now with their approbation and their blessing.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n<hr \/>\r\n<p class=\"\">I believe I have omitted mentioning that, in my first voyage from Boston, being becalm\u2019d off Block Island, our people set about catching cod, and hauled up a great many. Hitherto I had stuck to my resolution of not eating animal food, and on this occasion consider\u2019d, with my master Tryon, the taking every fish as a kind of unprovoked murder, since none of them had, or ever could do us any injury that might justify the slaughter. All this seemed very reasonable. But I had formerly been a great lover of fish, and, when this came hot out of the frying-pan, it smelt admirably well. I balanc\u2019d some time between principle and inclination, till I recollected that, when the fish were opened, I saw smaller fish taken out of their stomachs; then thought I, \u201cIf you eat one another, I don\u2019t see why we mayn\u2019t eat you.\u201d So I din\u2019d upon cod very heartily, and continued to eat with other people, returning only now and then occasionally to a vegetable diet. So convenient a thing it is to be a reasonable creature, since it enables one to find or make a reason for everything one has a mind to do.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">Keimer and I liv\u2019d on a pretty good familiar footing, and agreed tolerably well, for he suspected nothing of my setting up. He retained a great deal of his old enthusiasms and lov\u2019d argumentation. We therefore had many disputations. I used to work him so with my Socratic method, and had trepann\u2019d him so often by questions apparently so distant from any point we had in hand, and yet by degrees lead to the point, and brought him into difficulties and contradictions, that at last he grew ridiculously cautious, and would hardly answer me the most common question, without asking first, \u201cWhat do you intend to infer from that?\u201d However, it gave him so high an opinion of my abilities in the confuting way, that he seriously proposed my being his colleague in a project he had of setting up a new sect. He was to preach the doctrines, and I was to confound all opponents. When he came to explain with me upon the doctrines, I found several conundrums which I objected to, unless I might have my way a little too, and introduce some of mine.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">Keimer wore his beard at full length, because somewhere in the Mosaic law it is said, \u201cThou shalt not mar the corners of thy beard.\u201d He likewise kept the Seventh day, Sabbath; and these two points were essentials with him. I dislik\u2019d both; but agreed to admit them upon condition of his adopting the doctrine of using no animal food. \u201cI doubt,\u201d said he, \u201cmy constitution will not bear that.\u201d I assur\u2019d him it would, and that he would be the better for it. He was usually a great glutton, and I promised myself some diversion in half starving him. He agreed to try the practice, if I would keep him company. I did so, and we held it for three months. We had our victuals dress\u2019d, and brought to us regularly by a woman in the neighborhood, who had from me a list of forty dishes to be prepar\u2019d for us at different times, in all which there was neither fish, flesh, nor fowl, and the whim suited me the better at this time from the cheapness of it, not costing us above eighteenpence sterling each per week. I have since kept several Lents most strictly, leaving the common diet for that, and that for the common, abruptly, without the least inconvenience, so that I think there is little in the advice of making those changes by easy gradations. I went on pleasantly, but poor Keimer suffered grievously, tired of the project, long\u2019d for the flesh-pots of Egypt, and order\u2019d a roast pig. He invited me and two women friends to dine with him; but, it being brought too soon upon table, he could not resist the temptation, and ate the whole before we came.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">I had made some courtship during this time to Miss Read. I had a great respect and affection for her, and had some reason to believe she had the same for me; but, as I was about to take a long voyage, and we were both very young, only a little above eighteen, it was thought most prudent by her mother to prevent our going too far at present, as a marriage, if it was to take place, would be more convenient after my return, when I should be, as I expected, set up in my business. Perhaps, too, she thought my expectations not so well founded as I imagined them to be.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">My chief acquaintances at this time were Charles Osborne, Joseph Watson, and James Ralph, all lovers of reading. The two first were clerks to an eminent scrivener or conveyancer in the town, Charles Brogden; the other was 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 criticising. Ralph was ingenious, genteel in his manners, and extremely eloquent; I think I never knew a prettier talker. Both of them great admirers of poetry, and began to try their hands in little pieces. Many pleasant walks we four had together on Sundays into the woods, near Schuylkill, where we read to one another, and conferr\u2019d on what we read.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">Ralph was inclin\u2019d to pursue the study of poetry, not doubting but he might become eminent in it, and make his fortune by it, alleging that the best poets must, when they first began to write, make as many faults as he did. Osborne dissuaded him, assur\u2019d him he had no genius for poetry, and advis\u2019d him to think of nothing beyond the business he was bred to; that, in the mercantile way, tho\u2019 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 approv\u2019d the amusing one\u2019s self with poetry now and then, so far as to improve one\u2019s language, but no farther.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">On this it was propos\u2019d 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 were what we had in view, we excluded all considerations of invention 39 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 show\u2019d me his piece for my opinion, and I much approv\u2019d it, as it appear\u2019d to me to have great merit. \u201cNow,\u201d says he, \u201cOsborne never will allow the least merit in any thing of mine, but makes 1000 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 see what he will say to it.\u201d It was agreed, and I immediately transcrib\u2019d it, that it might appear in my own hand.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">We met; Watson\u2019s performance was read; there were some beauties in it, but many defects. Osborne\u2019s 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, etc.; but no excuse could be admitted; produce I must. It was read and repeated; Watson and Osborne gave up the contest, and join\u2019d in applauding it. Ralph only made some criticisms, and propos\u2019d some amendments; but I defended my text. Osborne was against Ralph, and told him he was no better a critic than poet, so he dropt the argument. As they two went home together, Osborne expressed himself still more strongly in favor of what he thought my production; having restrain\u2019d himself before, as he said, lest I should think it flattery. \u201cBut who would have imagin\u2019d,\u201d said he, \u201cthat Franklin had been capable of such a performance; such painting, such force, such fire! He has even improv\u2019d the original. In his common conversation he seems to have no choice of words; he hesitates and blunders; and yet, good God! how he writes!\u201d When we next met, Ralph discovered the trick we had plaid him, and Osborne was a little laught at.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">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. He became, however, a pretty good prose writer. More of him hereafter. But, as I may not have occasion again 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, but died young. He and I had made a serious agreement, that the one who happen\u2019d 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 fulfill\u2019d his promise.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n<hr \/>\r\n<p class=\"\">[Franklin is now in London] I immediately got into work at Palmer\u2019s, then a famous printing-house in Bartholomew Close, and here I continu\u2019d near a year. I was pretty diligent, but spent with Ralph a good deal of my earnings in going to plays and other places of amusement. We had together consumed all my pistoles, and now just rubbed on from hand to mouth. He seem\u2019d quite to forget 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 should 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.<\/p>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n<div class=\"mt-feedback-rating-container\">\r\n\r\n<img class=\"alignright wp-image-325 size-medium\" src=\"https:\/\/s3-us-west-2.amazonaws.com\/courses-images\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/5583\/2021\/02\/17215120\/130-300x199.jpg\" alt=\"setting type\" width=\"300\" height=\"199\" \/>\r\n<p class=\"\">At Palmer\u2019s I was employed in composing for the second edition of Wollaston\u2019s \u201cReligion of Nature.\u201d 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 \u201cA Dissertation on Liberty and Necessity, Pleasure and Pain.\u201d I inscribed it to my friend Ralph; I printed a small number. It occasion\u2019d my being more consider\u2019d by Mr. Palmer as a young man of some ingenuity, tho\u2019 he seriously expostulated with me upon the principles of my pamphlet, which to him appear\u2019d abominable. My printing this pamphlet was another erratum. While I lodg\u2019d in Little Britain, I made an acquaintance with one Wilcox, a bookseller, whose shop was at the 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 esteem\u2019d a great advantage, and I made as much use of it as I could.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">My pamphlet by some means falling into the hands of one Lyons, a surgeon, author of a book entitled \u201cThe Infallibility of Human Judgment,\u201d 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 \u2014\u2014\u2014 Lane, Cheapside, and introduced me to Dr. Mandeville, author of the \u201cFable of the Bees,\u201d who had a club there, of which he was the soul, being a most facetious, entertaining companion. Lyons, too, introduced me to Dr. Pemberton, at Batson\u2019s Coffee-house, who promis\u2019d to give me an opportunity, some time or other, of seeing Sir Isaac Newton, of which I was extreamely desirous; but this never happened.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">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, and invited me to his house in Bloomsbury Square, where he show\u2019d me all his curiosities, and persuaded me to let him add that to the number, for which he paid me handsomely.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">In our house there lodg\u2019d a young woman, a milliner, who, I think, had a shop in the Cloisters. She had been genteelly bred, was sensible and lively, and of most pleasing conversation. Ralph read plays to her in the evenings, they grew intimate, she took another lodging, and he followed her. They liv\u2019d together some time; but, he being still out of business, and her income not sufficient to maintain them with her child, he took a resolution of going from London, to try for a country school, which he thought himself well qualified to undertake, as he wrote an excellent hand, and was a master of arithmetic and accounts. This, however, he deemed a business below him, and confident of future better fortune, when he should be unwilling to have it known that he once was so meanly employed, he changed his name, and did me the honor to assume mine; for I soon after had a letter from him, acquainting me that he was settled in a small village (in Berkshire, I think it was, where he taught reading and writing to ten or a dozen boys, at sixpence each per week), recommending Mrs. T\u2014\u2014\u2014 to my care, and desiring me to write to him, directing for Mr. Franklin, schoolmaster, at such a place.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">He continued to write frequently, sending me large specimens of an epic poem which he was then composing, and desiring my remarks and corrections. These I gave him from time to time, but endeavor\u2019d rather to discourage his proceeding. One of Young\u2019s Satires was then just published. I copy\u2019d and sent him a great part of it, which set in a strong light the folly of pursuing the Muses with any hope of advancement by them. All was in vain; sheets of the poem continued to come by every post. In the mean time, Mrs. T\u2014\u2014\u2014, having on his account lost her friends and business, was often in distresses, and us\u2019d to send for me, and borrow what I could spare to help her out of them. I grew fond of her company, and, being at that time under no religious restraint, and presuming upon my importance to her, I attempted familiarities (another erratum) which she repuls\u2019d with a proper resentment, and acquainted him with my behaviour. This made a breach between us; and, when he returned again to London, he let me know he thought I had cancell\u2019d all the obligations he had been under to me. So I found I was never to expect his repaying me what I lent to him, or advanc\u2019d for him. This, however, was not then of much consequence, as he was totally unable; and in the loss of his friendship I found myself relieved from a burthen. I now began to think of getting a little money beforehand, and, expecting better work, I left Palmer\u2019s to work at Watts\u2019s, near Lincoln\u2019s Inn Fields, a still greater printing-house. Here I continued all the rest of my stay in London.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">At my first admission into this printing-house I took to working at press, imagining I felt a want of the bodily exercise I had been us\u2019d to in America, where presswork is mix\u2019d with composing. I drank only water; the other workmen, near fifty in number, were great guzzlers 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\u2019clock, and another when he had done his day\u2019s work. I thought it a detestable custom; but it was necessary, he suppos\u2019d, to drink strong beer, that he might be strong to labor. I endeavored 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 would 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 muddling liquor; an expense I was free from. And thus these poor devils keep themselves always under.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n<hr \/>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n<div class=\"mt-feedback-rating-container\">\r\n\r\nHe [Franklin's friend, Mr. Denham] 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 propos\u2019d 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, etc., to the West Indies, and procure me commissions from others which would be profitable; and, if I manag\u2019d well, would establish me handsomely. The thing pleas\u2019d me; for I was grown tired of London, remembered with pleasure the happy months I had spent in Pennsylvania, and wish\u2019d 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 a better prospect.\r\n<p class=\"\">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 seeing them pack\u2019d up, doing errands, calling upon workmen to dispatch, etc.; and, when all was on board, I had a few days\u2019 leisure. On one of these days, I was, to my surprise, sent for by a great man I knew only by name, a Sir William Wyndham, and I waited upon him. He had heard by some means or other of my swimming from Chelsea to Blackfriar\u2019s, 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 wish\u2019d 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 this 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 sooner made me, probably I should not so soon have returned to America. After many years, you and I had something of more importance to do with one of these sons of Sir William Wyndham, become Earl of Egremont, which I shall mention in its place.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">Thus I spent about eighteen months in London; most part of the time I work\u2019d 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 lov\u2019d him, notwithstanding, for he had many amiable qualities. I had by no means improv\u2019d my fortune; but I had picked up some very ingenious acquaintance, whose conversation was of great advantage to me; and I had read considerably.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n<hr \/>\r\n<p class=\"\">About this time [1729] 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 oppos\u2019d any addition, being against all paper currency, from an apprehension that it would depreciate, as it had done in New England, to the prejudice of all creditors. We had discuss\u2019d this point in our Junto, where I was on the side of an addition, being persuaded that the first small sum struck in 1723 had done much good by increasing the trade, employment, and number of inhabitants in the province, since I now saw all the old houses inhabited, and many new ones building: whereas I remembered well, that when I first walk\u2019d about the streets of Philadelphia, eating my roll, I saw most of the houses in Walnut-street, between Second and Front streets, with bills on their doors, \u201cTo be let\u201d; and many likewise in Chestnut-street and other streets, which made me then think the inhabitants of the city were deserting it one after another.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">Our debates possess\u2019d me so fully of the subject, that I wrote and printed an anonymous pamphlet on it, entitled \u201cThe Nature and Necessity of a Paper Currency.\u201d It was well receiv\u2019d by the common people in general; but the rich men dislik\u2019d it, for it increas\u2019d and strengthen\u2019d the clamor for more money, and they happening to have no writers among them that were able to answer it, their opposition slacken\u2019d, and the point was carried by a majority in the House. My friends there, who conceiv\u2019d I had been of some service, thought fit to reward me by employing me in printing the money; a very profitable jobb and a great help to me. This was another advantage gain\u2019d by my being able to write.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">The utility of this currency became by time and experience so evident as never afterwards to be much disputed; so that it grew soon to fifty-five thousand pounds, and in 1739 to eighty thousand pounds, since which it arose during war to upwards of three hundred and fifty thousand pounds, trade, building, and inhabitants all the while increasing, tho\u2019 I now think there are limits beyond which the quantity may be hurtful.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">I soon after obtain\u2019d, thro\u2019 my friend Hamilton, the printing of the Newcastle paper money, another profitable jobb as I then thought it; small things appearing great to those in small circumstances; and these, to me, were really great advantages, as they were great encouragements. He procured for me, also, the printing of the laws and votes of that government, which continu\u2019d in my hands as long as I follow\u2019d the business.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">I now open\u2019d a little stationer\u2019s shop. I had in it blanks of all sorts, the correctest that ever appear\u2019d among us, being assisted in that by my friend Breintnal. I had also paper, parchment, chapmen\u2019s books, etc. One Whitemash, a compositor I had known in London, an excellent workman, now came to me, and work\u2019d with me constantly and diligently; and I took an apprentice, the son of Aquila Rose.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">I began now gradually to pay off the debt I was under for the printing-house. In order to secure my credit and character as a tradesman, I took care not only to be in reality industrious and frugal, but to avoid all appearances to the contrary. I drest plainly; I was seen at no places of idle diversion. I never went out a fishing or shooting; a book, indeed, sometimes debauch\u2019d me from my work, but that was seldom, snug, and gave no scandal; and, to show that I was not above my business, I sometimes brought home the paper I purchas\u2019d at the stores thro\u2019 the streets on a wheelbarrow. Thus being esteem\u2019d an industrious, thriving young man, and paying duly for what I bought, the merchants who imported stationery solicited my custom; others proposed supplying me with books, and I went on swimmingly. In the mean time, Keimer\u2019s credit and business declining daily, he was at last forc\u2019d to sell his printing-house to satisfy his creditors. He went to Barbadoes, and there lived some years in very poor circumstances.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">His apprentice, David Harry, whom I had instructed while I work\u2019d 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 propos\u2019d a partnership to him which he, fortunately for me, rejected with scorn. He was very proud, dress\u2019d like a gentleman, liv\u2019d 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 employ\u2019d his former master as a journeyman; they quarrel\u2019d often; Harry went continually behindhand, and at length was forc\u2019d to sell his types and return to his country work in Pensilvania. The person that bought them employ\u2019d Keimer to use them, but in a few years he died.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">There remained now no competitor with me at Philadelphia but the old one, Bradford; who was rich and easy, did a little printing now and then by straggling hands, but was not very anxious about the business. However, as he kept the postoffice, it was imagined he had better opportunities of obtaining news; his paper was thought a better distributer of advertisements than mine, and therefore had many more, which was a profitable thing to him, and a disadvantage to me; for, tho\u2019 I did indeed receive and send papers by the post, yet the publick 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 occasion\u2019d some resentment on my part; and I thought so meanly of him for it, that, when I afterward came into his situation, I took care never to imitate it.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n<hr \/>\r\n<p class=\"\">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 afterwards obtain\u2019d a charter, the company being increased to one hundred: this was the mother of all the North American subscription libraries, now so numerous. It is become a great thing itself, and continually increasing. These libraries have improved the general conversation of the Americans, made the common tradesmen and farmers as intelligent as most gentlemen from other countries, and perhaps have contributed in some degree to the stand so generally made throughout the colonies in defense of their privileges.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">Memo. Thus far was written with the intention express\u2019d in the beginning and therefore contains several little family anecdotes of no importance to others. What follows was written many years after in compliance with the advice contain\u2019d in these letters, and accordingly intended for the public. The affairs of the Revolution occasion\u2019d the interruption.<\/p>\r\n\r\n<h3>Part II<\/h3>\r\n<p class=\"\">Not having any copy here of what is already written, I know not whether an account is given of the means I used to establish the Philadelphia public library, which, from a small beginning, is now become so considerable, though I remember to have come down to near the time of that transaction (1730). I will therefore begin here with an account of it, which may be struck out if found to have been already given.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">At the time I establish\u2019d myself in Pennsylvania, there was not a good bookseller\u2019s shop in any of the colonies to the southward of Boston. In New York and Philad\u2019a the printers were indeed stationers; they sold only paper, etc., almanacs, ballads, and a few common school-books. Those who lov\u2019d reading were oblig\u2019d to send for their books from England; the members of the Junto had each a few. We had left the alehouse, where we first met, and hired a room to hold our club in. I propos\u2019d that we should all of us bring our books to that room, where they would not only be ready to consult in our conferences, but become a common benefit, each of us being at liberty to borrow such as he wish\u2019d to read at home. This was accordingly done, and for some time contented us.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">Finding the advantage of this little collection, I propos\u2019d to render the benefit from books more common, by commencing a public subscription library. I drew a sketch of the plan and rules that would be necessary, and got a skilful conveyancer, Mr. Charles Brockden, to put the whole in form of articles of agreement to be subscribed, by which each subscriber engag\u2019d to pay a certain sum down for the first purchase of books, and an annual contribution for increasing them. So few were the readers at that time in Philadelphia, and the majority of us so poor, that I was not able, with great industry; to find more than fifty persons, mostly young tradesmen, willing to pay down for this purpose forty shillings each, and ten shillings per annum. On this little fund we began. The books were imported; the library was opened one day in the week for lending to the subscribers, on their promissory notes to pay double the value if not duly returned. The institution soon manifested its utility, was imitated by other towns, and in other provinces. The libraries were augmented by donations; reading became fashionable; and our people, having no publick amusements to divert their attention from study, became better acquainted with books, and in a few years were observ\u2019d by strangers to be better instructed and more intelligent than people of the same rank generally are in other countries.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">When we were about to sign the above-mentioned articles, which were to be binding upon us, our heirs, etc., for fifty years, Mr. Brockden, the scrivener, said to us, \u201cYou are young men, but it is scarcely probable that any of you will live to see the expiration of the term fix\u2019d in the instrument.\u201d A number of us, however, are yet living; but the instrument was after a few years rendered null by a charter that incorporated and gave perpetuity to the company.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">The objections and reluctances I met with in soliciting the subscriptions, made me soon feel the impropriety of presenting one\u2019s self as the proposer of any useful project, that might be suppos\u2019d to raise one\u2019s reputation in the smallest degree above that of one\u2019s neighbors, when one has need of their assistance to accomplish that project. I therefore put myself as much as I could out of sight, and stated it as a scheme of a number of friends, who had requested me to go about and propose it to such as they thought lovers of reading. In this way my affair went on more smoothly, and I ever after practis\u2019d it on such occasions; and, from my frequent successes, can heartily recommend it. The present little sacrifice of your vanity will afterwards be amply repaid. If it remains a while uncertain to whom the merit belongs, some one more vain than yourself will be encouraged to claim it, and then even envy will be disposed to do you justice by plucking those assumed feathers, and restoring them to their right owner.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">This library afforded me the means of improvement by constant study, for which I set apart an hour or two each day, and thus repair\u2019d in some degree the loss of the learned education my father once intended for me. Reading was the only amusement I allow\u2019d myself. I spent no time in taverns, games, or frolicks of any kind; and my industry in my business continu\u2019d as indefatigable as it was necessary. I was indebted for my printing-house; I had a young family coming on to be educated, and I had to contend with for business two printers, who were established in the place before me. My circumstances, however, grew daily easier. My original habits of frugality continuing, and my father having, among his instructions to me when a boy, frequently repeated a proverb of Solomon, \u201cSeest thou a man diligent in his calling, he shall stand before kings, he shall not stand before mean men,\u201d I from thence considered industry as a means of obtaining wealth and distinction, which encourag\u2019d me, tho\u2019 I did not think that I should ever literally stand before kings, which, however, has since happened; for I have stood before five, and even had the honor of sitting down with one, the King of Denmark, to dinner.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">We have an English proverb that says, \u201cHe that would thrive, must ask his wife.\u201d It was lucky for me that I had one as much dispos\u2019d to industry and frugality as myself. She assisted me cheerfully in my business, folding and stitching pamphlets, tending shop, purchasing old linen rags for the papermakers, etc., etc. We kept no idle servants, our table was plain and simple, our furniture of the cheapest. For instance, my breakfast was a long time bread and milk (no tea), and I ate it out of a twopenny earthen porringer, with a pewter spoon. But mark how luxury will enter families, and make a progress, in spite of principle: being call\u2019d one morning to breakfast, I found it in a China bowl, with a spoon of silver! They had been bought for me without my knowledge by my wife, and had cost her the enormous sum of three-and-twenty shillings, for which she had no other excuse or apology to make, but that she thought her husband deserv\u2019d a silver spoon and China bowl as well as any of his neighbors. This was the first appearance of plate and China in our house, which afterward, in a course of years, as our wealth increas\u2019d, augmented gradually to several hundred pounds in value.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">I had been religiously educated as a Presbyterian; and tho\u2019 some of the dogmas of that persuasion, such as the eternal decrees of God, election, reprobation, etc., appeared to me unintelligible, others doubtful, and I early absented myself from the public assemblies of the sect, Sunday being my studying day, I never was without some religious principles. I never doubted, for instance, the existence of the Deity; that he made the world, and govern\u2019d it by his Providence; that the most acceptable service of God was the doing good to man; that our souls are immortal; and that all crime will be punished, and virtue rewarded, either here or hereafter. These I esteem\u2019d the essentials of every religion; and, being to be found in all the religions we had in our country, I respected them all, tho\u2019 with different degrees of respect, as I found them more or less mix\u2019d with other articles, which, without any tendency to inspire, promote, or confirm morality, serv\u2019d principally to divide us, and make us unfriendly to one another. This respect to all, with an opinion that the worst had some good effects, induc\u2019d me to avoid all discourse that might tend to lessen the good opinion another might have of his own religion; and as our province increas\u2019d in people, and new places of worship were continually wanted, and generally erected by voluntary contributions, my mite for such purpose, whatever might be the sect, was never refused.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">Tho\u2019 I seldom attended any public worship, I had still an opinion of its propriety, and of its utility when rightly conducted, and I regularly paid my annual subscription for the support of the only Presbyterian minister or meeting we had in Philadelphia. He us\u2019d to visit me sometimes as a friend, and admonish me to attend his administrations, and I was now and then prevail\u2019d on to do so, once for five Sundays successively. Had he been in my opinion a good preacher, perhaps I might have continued, notwithstanding the occasion I had for the Sunday\u2019s leisure in my course of study; but his discourses were chiefly either polemic arguments, or explications of the peculiar doctrines of our sect, and were all to me very dry, uninteresting, and unedifying, since not a single moral principle was inculcated or enforc\u2019d, their aim seeming to be rather to make us Presbyterians than good citizens.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">At length he took for his text that verse of the fourth chapter of Philippians, \u201cFinally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, honest, just, pure, lovely, or of good report, if there be any virtue, or any praise, think on these things.\u201d And I imagin\u2019d, in a sermon on such a text, we could not miss of having some morality. But he confin\u2019d himself to five points only, as meant by the apostle, viz.: 1. Keeping holy the Sabbath day. 2. Being diligent in reading the holy Scriptures. 3. Attending duly the publick worship. 4. Partaking of the Sacrament. 5. Paying a due respect to God\u2019s ministers. These might be all good things; but, as they were not the kind of good things that I expected from that text, I despaired of ever meeting with them from any other, was disgusted, and attended his preaching no more. I had some years before compos\u2019d a little Liturgy, or form of prayer, for my own private use (viz., in 1728), entitled, Articles of Belief and Acts of Religion. I return\u2019d to the use of this, and went no more to the public assemblies. My conduct might be blameable, but I leave it, without attempting further to excuse it; my present purpose being to relate facts, and not to make apologies for them.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">It was about this time I conceiv\u2019d the bold and arduous project of arriving at moral perfection. I wish\u2019d to live without committing any fault at any time; I would conquer all that either natural inclination, custom, or company might lead me into. As I knew, or thought I knew, what was right and wrong, I did not see why I might not always do the one and avoid the other. But I soon found I had undertaken a task of more difficulty than I had imagined. While my care was employ\u2019d in guarding against one fault, I was often surprised by another; habit took the advantage of inattention; inclination was sometimes too strong for reason. I concluded, at length, that the mere speculative conviction that it was our interest to be completely virtuous, was not sufficient to prevent our slipping; and that the contrary habits must be broken, and good ones acquired and established, before we can have any dependence on a steady, uniform rectitude of conduct. For this purpose I therefore contrived the following method.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">In the various enumerations of the moral virtues I had met with in my reading, I found the catalogue more or less numerous, as different writers included more or fewer ideas under the same name. Temperance, for example, was by some confined to eating and drinking, while by others it was extended to mean the moderating every other pleasure, appetite, inclination, or passion, bodily or mental, even to our avarice and ambition. I propos\u2019d to myself, for the sake of clearness, to use rather more names, with fewer ideas annex\u2019d to each, than a few names with more ideas; and I included under thirteen names of virtues all that at that time occurr\u2019d to me as necessary or desirable, and annexed to each a short precept, which fully express\u2019d the extent I gave to its meaning.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">These names of virtues, with their precepts, were:<\/p>\r\n\r\n<ol>\r\n \t<li>Temperance. Eat not to dullness; drink not to elevation.<\/li>\r\n \t<li>Silence. Speak not but what may benefit others or yourself; avoid trifling conversation.<\/li>\r\n \t<li>Order. Let all your things have their places; let each part of your business have its time.<\/li>\r\n \t<li>Resolution. Resolve to perform what you ought; perform without fail what you resolve.<\/li>\r\n \t<li>Frugality. Make no expense but to do good to others or yourself; i.e., waste nothing.<\/li>\r\n \t<li>Industry. Lose no time; be always employ\u2019d in something useful; cut off all unnecessary actions.<\/li>\r\n \t<li>Sincerity. Use no hurtful deceit; think innocently and justly, and, if you speak, speak accordingly.<\/li>\r\n \t<li>Justice. Wrong none by doing injuries, or omitting the benefits that are your duty.<\/li>\r\n \t<li>Moderation. Avoid extreams; forbear resenting injuries so much as you think they deserve.<\/li>\r\n \t<li>Cleanliness. 84 Tolerate no uncleanliness in body, cloaths, or habitation.<\/li>\r\n \t<li>Tranquillity. Be not disturbed at trifles, or at accidents common or unavoidable.<\/li>\r\n \t<li>Chastity. Rarely use venery but for health or offspring, never to dulness, weakness, or the injury of your own or another\u2019s peace or reputation.<\/li>\r\n \t<li>Humility. Imitate Jesus and Socrates.<\/li>\r\n<\/ol>\r\n<p class=\"\">My intention being to acquire the habitude of all these virtues, I judg\u2019d it would be well not to distract my attention by attempting the whole at once, but to fix it on one of them at a time; and, when I should be master of that, then to proceed to another, and so on, till I should have gone thro\u2019 the thirteen; and, as the previous acquisition of some might facilitate the acquisition of certain others, I arrang\u2019d them with that view, as they stand above. Temperance first, as it tends to procure that coolness and clearness of head, which is so necessary where constant vigilance was to be kept up, and guard maintained against the unremitting attraction of ancient habits, and the force of perpetual temptations. This being acquir\u2019d and establish\u2019d, Silence would be more easy; and my desire being to gain knowledge at the same time that I improv\u2019d in virtue, and considering that in conversation it was obtain\u2019d rather by the use of the ears than of the tongue, and therefore wishing to break a habit I was getting into of prattling, punning, and joking, which only made me acceptable to trifling company, I gave Silence the second place. This and the next, Order, I expected would allow me more time for attending to my project and my studies. Resolution, once become habitual, would keep me firm in my endeavors to obtain all the subsequent virtues; Frugality and Industry freeing me from my remaining debt, and producing affluence and independence, would make more easy the practice of Sincerity and Justice, etc., etc. Conceiving then, that, agreeably to the advice of Pythagoras in his Golden Verses, daily examination would be necessary, I contrived the following method for conducting that examination.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">I made a little book, in which I allotted a page for each of the virtues. I rul\u2019d each page with red ink, so as to have seven columns, one for each day of the week, marking each column with a letter for the day. I cross\u2019d these columns with thirteen red lines, marking the beginning of each line with the first letter of one of the virtues, on which line, and in its proper column, I might mark, by a little black spot, every fault I found upon examination to have been committed respecting that virtue upon that day.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"mt-align-center\"><img class=\"internal\" src=\"https:\/\/human.libretexts.org\/@api\/deki\/files\/37085\/clipboard_e10fb2cf08b8add8b5f20df91f8c01045.png?revision=1&amp;size=bestfit&amp;width=269&amp;height=436\" alt=\"clipboard_e10fb2cf08b8add8b5f20df91f8c01045.png\" width=\"269px\" height=\"436px\" \/><\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">I determined to give a week\u2019s strict attention to each of the virtues successively. Thus, in the first week, my great guard was to avoid every the least offence against Temperance, leaving the other virtues to their ordinary chance, only marking every evening the faults of the day. Thus, if in the first week I could keep my first line, marked T, clear of spots, I suppos\u2019d the habit of that virtue so much strengthen\u2019d, and its opposite weaken\u2019d, that I might venture extending my attention to include the next, and for the following week keep both lines clear of spots. Proceeding thus to the last, I could go thro\u2019 a course compleat in thirteen weeks, and four courses in a year. And like him who, having a garden to weed, does not attempt to eradicate all the bad herbs at once, which would exceed his reach and his strength, but works on one of the beds at a time, and, having accomplish\u2019d the first, proceeds to a second, so I should have, I hoped, the encouraging pleasure of seeing on my pages the progress I made in virtue, by clearing successively my lines of their spots, till in the end, by a number of courses, I should be happy in viewing a clean book, after a thirteen weeks\u2019 daily examination.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">This my little book had for its motto these lines from Addison\u2019s Cato:<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"mt-indent-1\">\u201cHere will I hold. If there\u2019s a power above us\r\n(And that there is, all nature cries aloud\r\nThro\u2019 all her works), He must delight in virtue;\r\nAnd that which he delights in must be happy.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">Another from Cicero,<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"mt-indent-1\">\u201cO vit\u00e6 Philosophia dux! O virtutum indagatrix expultrixque vitiorum! Unus\r\ndies, bene et ex pr\u00e6ceptis tuis actus, peccanti immortalitati est anteponendus.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">Another from the Proverbs of Solomon, speaking of wisdom or virtue:<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"mt-indent-1\">\u201cLength of days is in her right hand, and in her left hand riches and honour.\r\nHer ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace.\u201d iii. 16, 17.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">And conceiving God to be the fountain of wisdom, I thought it right and necessary to solicit his assistance for obtaining it; to this end I formed the following little prayer, which was prefix\u2019d to my tables of examination, for daily use.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"mt-indent-1\">\u201cO powerful Goodness! bountiful Father! merciful Guide! Increase in me\r\nthat wisdom which discovers my truest interest. Strengthen my resolutions\r\nto perform what that wisdom dictates. Accept my kind offices to thy other\r\nchildren as the only return in my power for thy continual favors to me.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">I used also sometimes a little prayer which I took from Thomson\u2019s Poems, viz.:<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"mt-indent-1\">\u201cFather of light and life, thou Good Supreme!\r\nO teach me what is good; teach me Thyself!\r\nSave me from folly, vanity, and vice,\r\nFrom every low pursuit; and fill my soul\r\nWith knowledge, conscious peace, and virtue pure;\r\nSacred, substantial, never-fading bliss!\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">The precept of Order requiring that every part of my business should have its allotted time, one page in my little book contain\u2019d the following scheme of employment for the twenty-four hours of a natural day:<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"mt-align-center\"><img class=\"internal\" src=\"https:\/\/human.libretexts.org\/@api\/deki\/files\/37086\/clipboard_ea7e1ee7cf67ca10d8c69e4f12287c76a.png?revision=1&amp;size=bestfit&amp;width=324&amp;height=486\" alt=\"clipboard_ea7e1ee7cf67ca10d8c69e4f12287c76a.png\" width=\"324px\" height=\"486px\" \/><\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">I enter\u2019d upon the execution of this plan for self-examination, and continu\u2019d it with occasional intermissions for some time. I was surpris\u2019d to find myself so much fuller of faults than I had imagined; but I had the satisfaction of seeing them diminish. To avoid the trouble of renewing now and then my little book, which, by scraping out the marks on the paper of old faults to make room for new ones in a new course, became full of holes, I transferr\u2019d my tables and precepts to the ivory leaves of a memorandum book, on which the lines were drawn with red ink, that made a durable stain, and on those lines I mark\u2019d my faults with a black-lead pencil, which marks I could easily wipe out with a wet sponge. After a while I went thro\u2019 one course only in a year, and afterward only one in several years, till at length I omitted them entirely, being employ\u2019d in voyages and business abroad, with a multiplicity of affairs that interfered; but I always carried my little book with me.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">My scheme of ORDER gave me the most trouble; and I found that, tho\u2019 it might be practicable where a man\u2019s business was such as to leave him the disposition of his time, that of a journeyman printer, for instance, it was not possible to be exactly observed by a master, who must mix with the world, and often receive people of business at their own hours. Order, too, with regard to places for things, papers, etc., I found extreamly difficult to acquire. I had not been early accustomed to it, and, having an exceeding good memory, I was not so sensible of the inconvenience attending want of method. This article, therefore, cost me so much painful attention, and my faults in it vexed me so much, and I made so little progress in amendment, and had such frequent relapses, that I was almost ready to give up the attempt, and content myself with a faulty character in that respect, like the man who, in buying an ax of a smith, my neighbour, desired to have the whole of its surface as bright as the edge. The smith consented to grind it bright for him if he would turn the wheel; he turn\u2019d, while the smith press\u2019d the broad face of the ax hard and heavily on the stone, which made the turning of it very fatiguing. The man came every now and then from the wheel to see how the work went on, and at length would take his ax as it was, without farther grinding. \u201cNo,\u201d said the smith, \u201cturn on, turn on; we shall have it bright by-and-by; as yet, it is only speckled.\u201d \u201cYes,\u201d said the man, \u201cbut I think I like a speckled ax best.\u201d And I believe this may have been the case with many, who, having, for want of some such means as I employ\u2019d, found the difficulty of obtaining good and breaking bad habits in other points of vice and virtue, have given up the struggle, and concluded that \u201ca speckled ax was best\u201d; for something, that pretended to be reason, was every now and then suggesting to me that such extream nicety as I exacted of myself might be a kind of foppery in morals, which, if it were known, would make me ridiculous; that a perfect character might be attended with the inconvenience of being envied and hated; and that a benevolent man should allow a few faults in himself, to keep his friends in countenance.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">In truth, I found myself incorrigible with respect to Order; and now I am grown old, and my memory bad, I feel very sensibly the want of it. But, on the whole, tho\u2019 I never arrived at the perfection I had been so ambitious of obtaining, but fell far short of it, yet I was, by the endeavour, a better and a happier man than I otherwise should have been if I had not attempted it; as those who aim at perfect writing by imitating the engraved copies, tho\u2019 they never reach the wish\u2019d-for excellence of those copies, their hand is mended by the endeavor, and is tolerable while it continues fair and legible.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">It may be well my posterity should be informed that to this little artifice, with the blessing of God, their ancestor ow\u2019d the constant felicity of his life, down to his 79th year, in which this is written. What reverses may attend the remainder is in the hand of Providence; but, if they arrive, the reflection on past happiness enjoy\u2019d ought to help his bearing them with more resignation. To Temperance he ascribes his long-continued health, and what is still left to him of a good constitution; to Industry and Frugality, the early easiness of his circumstances and acquisition of his fortune, with all that knowledge that enabled him to be a useful citizen, and obtained for him some degree of reputation among the learned; to Sincerity and Justice, the confidence of his country, and the honorable employs it conferred upon him; and to the joint influence of the whole mass of the virtues, even in the imperfect state he was able to acquire them, all that evenness of temper, and that cheerfulness in conversation, which makes his company still sought for, and agreeable even to his younger acquaintance. I hope, therefore, that some of my descendants may follow the example and reap the benefit.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">It will be remark\u2019d that, tho\u2019 my scheme was not wholly without religion, there was in it no mark of any of the distinguishing tenets of any particular sect. I had purposely avoided them; for, being fully persuaded of the utility and excellency of my method, and that it might be serviceable to people in all religions, and intending some time or other to publish it, I would not have any thing in it that should prejudice any one, of any sect, against it. I purposed writing a little comment on each virtue, in which I would have shown the advantages of possessing it, and the mischiefs attending its opposite vice; and I should have called my book The Art of Virtue, because it would have shown the means and manner of obtaining virtue, which would have distinguished it from the mere exhortation to be good, that does not instruct and indicate the means, but is like the apostle\u2019s man of verbal charity, who only without showing to the naked and hungry how or where they might get clothes or victuals, exhorted them to be fed and clothed.\u2014James ii. 15, 16.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">But it so happened that my intention of writing and publishing this comment was never fulfilled. I did, indeed, from time to time, put down short hints of the sentiments, reasonings, etc., to be made use of in it, some of which I have still by me; but the necessary close attention to private business in the earlier part of my life, and public business since, have occasioned my postponing it; for, it being connected in my mind with a great and extensive project, that required the whole man to execute, and which an unforeseen succession of employs prevented my attending to, it has hitherto remain\u2019d unfinish\u2019d.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">In this piece it was my design to explain and enforce this doctrine, that vicious actions are not hurtful because they are forbidden, but forbidden because they are hurtful, the nature of man alone considered; that it was, therefore, every one\u2019s interest to be virtuous who wish\u2019d to be happy even in this world; and I should, from this circumstance (there being always in the world a number of rich merchants, nobility, states, and princes, who have need of honest instruments for the management of their affairs, and such being so rare), have endeavored to convince young persons that no qualities were so likely to make a poor man\u2019s fortune as those of probity and integrity.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">My list of virtues contain\u2019d at first but twelve; but a Quaker friend having kindly informed me that I was generally thought proud; that my pride show\u2019d itself frequently in conversation; that I was not content with being in the right when discussing any point, but was overbearing, and rather insolent, of which he convinc\u2019d me by mentioning several instances; I determined endeavouring to cure myself, if I could, of this vice or folly among the rest, and I added Humility to my list, giving an extensive meaning to the word.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">I cannot boast of much success in acquiring the reality of this virtue, but I had a good deal with regard to the appearance of it. I made it a rule to forbear all direct contradiction to the sentiments of others, and all positive assertion of my own. I even forbid myself, agreeably to the old laws of our Junto, the use of every word or expression in the language that imported a fix\u2019d opinion, such as certainly, undoubtedly, etc., and I adopted, instead of them, I conceive, I apprehend, or I imagine a thing to be so or so; or it so appears to me at present. When another asserted something that I thought an error, I deny\u2019d myself the pleasure of contradicting him abruptly, and of showing immediately some absurdity in his proposition; and in answering I began by observing that in certain cases or circumstances his opinion would be right, but in the present case there appear\u2019d or seem\u2019d to me some difference, etc. I soon found the advantage of this change in my manner; the conversations I engag\u2019d in went on more pleasantly. The modest way in which I propos\u2019d my opinions procur\u2019d them a readier reception and less contradiction; I had less mortification when I was found to be in the wrong, and I more easily prevail\u2019d with others to give up their mistakes and join with me when I happened to be in the right.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">And this mode, which I at first put on with some violence to natural inclination, became at length so easy, and so habitual to me, that perhaps for these fifty years past no one has ever heard a dogmatical expression escape me. And to this habit (after my character of integrity) I think it principally owing that I had early so much weight with my fellow-citizens when I proposed new institutions, or alterations in the old, and so much influence in public councils when I became a member; for I was but a bad speaker, never eloquent, subject to much hesitation in my choice of words, hardly correct in language, and yet I generally carried my points.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">In reality, there is, perhaps, no one of our natural passions so hard to subdue as pride. Disguise it, struggle with it, beat it down, stifle it, mortify it as much as one pleases, it is still alive, and will every now and then peep out and show itself; you will see it, perhaps, often in this history; for, even if I could conceive that I had compleatly overcome it, I should probably be proud of my humility.<\/p>\r\n<p class=\"\">[Thus far written at Passy, 1784.]<\/p>\r\n\r\n<div class=\"textbox exercises\">\r\n<h3>historical background<\/h3>\r\n<img class=\"alignright wp-image-980\" src=\"https:\/\/s3-us-west-2.amazonaws.com\/courses-images\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/5583\/2021\/02\/22160932\/143-243x300.jpg\" alt=\"Benjamin Franklin\" width=\"123\" height=\"152\" \/>\r\n\r\nYou may be interested in videos about Franklin from Kahn Academy's <a href=\"https:\/\/www.khanacademy.org\/humanities\/us-history\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">U.S. History<\/a> course. Here are two that provide context for the Autobiography, although there are many others that talk about different aspects of Franklin's life.\r\n<ul>\r\n \t<li><a href=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/watch?v=e23FYcmAG5k\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">An Introduction to Benjamin Franklin<\/a><\/li>\r\n \t<li><a href=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/watch?v=vbAbCp9elFU\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Takeaways from Benjamin Franklin's Life<\/a><\/li>\r\n<\/ul>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<div class=\"textbox key-takeaways\">\r\n<h3>questions to Consider<\/h3>\r\n<ul>\r\n \t<li>In The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin, what literary works does Franklin cite as important to the shaping of his mind? What, if anything, do these works have in common? What power does Franklin attribute to the written word?<\/li>\r\n \t<li>What human behaviors and qualities does Franklin list in his virtues and precepts? What, if anything, do they have in common? How do they compare to Puritan virtues? How do they contrast?<\/li>\r\n<\/ul>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>","rendered":"<h2>Introduction: Benjamin Franklin (1706-1790)<\/h2>\n<section class=\"mt-content-container\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignleft wp-image-281 size-medium\" src=\"https:\/\/s3-us-west-2.amazonaws.com\/courses-images\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/5583\/2021\/02\/16184809\/128-239x300.png\" alt=\"Benjamin Franklin\" width=\"239\" height=\"300\" \/>Born in Boston, Benjamin Franklin was the youngest son of the youngest son five generations back. His father, Josiah Franklin, left Northamptonshire, England for America in reaction against the Church of England. Though he tried to have his son educated formally by enrolling him in the Boston Grammar School, Josiah was forced by financial circumstances to bring Benjamin into his tallow chandler and soap boiling business. Franklin hated the business, particularly the smell, so he was eventually apprenticed to his brother James, who had learned the printing trade in England and started a newspaper, The New England Courant.<\/section>\n<section class=\"mt-content-container\">\u00a0<\/section>\n<p>Franklin took to printing and the printed word, reading voraciously not only the business\u2019s publications but also the books loaned to him by its patrons and friends. Through reading and using texts as models, Franklin acquired great facility in writing. An editorial he wrote under the pseudonym of \u201cSilence Dogood\u201d was published by his brother, who had no idea of the piece\u2019s true authorship. James was imprisoned after quarreling with Massachusetts authorities, leaving Franklin to run the business during his absence. Franklin was only sixteen.<\/p>\n<p>James also quarreled with Benjamin, who sought freedom from James\u2019s temper and tyranny by running away, determined to make his own way in the world. In 1723, he arrived in Philadelphia and walked up the Market Street wharf munching on one of three large puffy rolls and carrying small change in his pocket. He found work as a printer there until, upon what proved to be the groundless encouragement of William Keith (1669\u20131749), a governor of the province, Franklin traveled to England to purchase printing equipment and start a new printing business of his own. He worked for others at printing houses for two years before returning home. While in England, he also read widely, and saw first-hand the growing importance of the periodical, the long periodical essay, and the persona of an author who served as intermediary between a large audience of readers and the news and events of the day.<\/p>\n<p>He put this knowledge to good purpose once he returned to Philadelphia, first co-owning then owning outright a new printing business that published The Pennsylvania Gazette; books from the Continent; and, from 1733 to 1758, an almanac using the persona of Poor Richard, or Richard Saunders. Poor Richard\u2019s Almanac became immensely popular, eventually selling 10,000 copies per year. With wit, puns, and word play, Franklin offered distinctly American aphorisms, maxims, and proverbs on reason versus faith, household management, thrift, the work ethic, and good manners.<\/p>\n<p>In 1730, he married Deborah Read who bore two children and helped raise Franklin\u2019s illegitimate son William. It was for William that Franklin wrote the first part of The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin. The quintessential selfmade man, his business success allowed Franklin to retire at the age of forty-two and focus his energies on the common good and public affairs. He had already contributed a great deal to both, including inventing an eponymous stove and founding the first circulating library; the American Philosophical Society; and the Pennsylvania Hospital. He also promoted the establishment of the University of Pennsylvania, an institution of higher learning grounded in secular education.<\/p>\n<p>He applied the tenets of this education in first-hand observation and study of the natural world, from earthquakes to electricity. His Experiments and Observations on Electricity (1751\u20131753) won him the respect of scientists around the world. Like other humanist-deist thinkers of his day, Franklin used reason to overcome institutional tyrannies over mind and body. Between the years 1757 and 1775, he actively sought to overcome England\u2019s tyranny over the colonies in two separate diplomatic missions to England, representing Pennsylvania, Georgia, Massachusetts, and New Jersey and also protesting the Stamp Act.<\/p>\n<p>The rising sense of injustice against England led to the First and then the Second Continental Congresses, at the latter of which Franklin represented Pennsylvania and served with Thomas Jefferson on the committee that drafted the 1776 Declaration of Independence, a declaration that represented all thirteen colonies. Central to the beginning of the American Revolution, Franklin was also central to its end in 1783 through the Treaty of Paris that he, John Jay, and John Adams shaped and signed. And he helped shape the future of the United States of America by serving on the Constitutional Convention that wrote the Constitution and the Bill of Rights.<\/p>\n<p>Throughout all these great actions and events, Franklin wrote didactic works leavened by an extraordinary blend of worldliness and earnestness and enlivened by wit, humor, and sometimes deceptive irony.<\/p>\n<footer class=\"elm-content-footer\"><\/footer>\n<h2 class=\"mt-content-footer\">The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin (Excerpts)<\/h2>\n<h3>Part I (1789)<\/h3>\n<footer>This obscure family of ours was early in the Reformation, and continued Protestants through the reign of Queen Mary, when they were sometimes in danger of trouble on account of their zeal against popery. They had got an English Bible, and to conceal and secure it, it was fastened open with tapes under and within the cover of a joint-stool. When my great-great-grandfather read it to his family, he turned up the joint-stool upon his knees, turning over the leaves then under the tapes. One of the children stood at the door to give notice if he saw the apparitor coming, who was an officer of the spiritual court. In that case the stool was turned down again upon its feet, when the Bible remained concealed under it as before. This anecdote I had from my uncle Benjamin. The family continued all of the Church of England till about the end of Charles the Second\u2019s reign, when some of the ministers that had been outed for nonconformity holding conventicles in Northamptonshire, Benjamin and Josiah adhered to them, and so continued all their lives: the rest of the family remained with the Episcopal Church.eir lives: the rest of the family remained with the Episcopal Church. Josiah, my father, married young, and carried his wife with three children into New England, about 1682. The conventicles having been forbidden by law, and frequently disturbed, induced some considerable men of his acquaintance to remove to that country, and he was prevailed with to accompany them thither, where they expected to enjoy their mode of religion with freedom. By the same wife he had four children more born there, and by a second wife ten more, in all seventeen; of which I remember thirteen sitting at one time at his table, who all grew up to be men and women, and married; I was the youngest son, and the youngest child but two, and was born in Boston, New England. My mother, the second wife, was Abiah Folger, daughter of Peter Folger, one of the first settlers of New England, of whom honorable mention is made by Cotton Mather, in his church history of that country, entitled Magnalia Christi Americana, as \u201ca godly, learned Englishman,\u201d if I remember the words rightly. I have heard that he wrote sundry small occasional pieces, but only one of them was printed, which I saw now many years since. It was written in 1675, in the home-spun verse of that time and people, and addressed to those then concerned in the government there. It was in favor of liberty of conscience, and in behalf of the Baptists, Quakers, and other sectaries that had been under persecution, ascribing the Indian wars, and other distresses that had befallen the country, to that persecution, as so many judgments of God to punish so heinous an offense, and exhorting a repeal of those uncharitable laws. The whole appeared to me as written with a good deal of decent plainness and manly freedom. The six concluding lines I remember, though I have forgotten the two first of the stanza; but the purport of them was, that his censures proceeded from good-will, and, therefore, he would be known to be the author.<\/p>\n<p class=\"mt-indent-1\">\u201cBecause to be a libeller (says he)<br \/>\nI hate it with my heart;<br \/>\nFrom Sherburne town, where now I dwell<br \/>\nMy name I do put here;<br \/>\nWithout offense your real friend,<br \/>\nIt is Peter Folgier.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignright wp-image-321 size-medium\" src=\"https:\/\/s3-us-west-2.amazonaws.com\/courses-images\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/5583\/2021\/02\/17213816\/128-300x200.jpg\" alt=\"candle and candle extinguisher\" width=\"300\" height=\"200\" \/><\/p>\n<p>My elder brothers were all put apprentices to different trades. I was put to the grammar-school at eight years of age, my father intending to devote me, as the tithe of his sons, to the service of the Church. My early readiness in learning to read (which must have been very early, as I do not remember when I could not read), and the opinion of all his friends, that I should certainly make a good scholar, encouraged him in this purpose of his. My uncle Benjamin, too, approved of it, and proposed to give me all his short-hand volumes of sermons, I suppose as a stock to set up with, if I would learn his character. I continued, however, at the grammar-school not quite one year, though in that time I had risen gradually from the middle of the class of that year to be the head of it, and farther was removed into the next class above it, in order to go with that into the third at the end of the year. But my father, in the meantime, from a view of the expense of a college education, which having so large a family he could not well afford, and the mean living many so educated were afterwards able to obtain\u2014reasons that he gave to his friends in my hearing\u2014altered his first intention, took me from the grammar-school, and sent me to a school for writing and arithmetic, kept by a then famous man, Mr. George Brownell, very successful in his profession generally, and that by mild, encouraging methods. Under him I acquired fair writing pretty soon, but I failed in the arithmetic, and made no progress in it. At ten years old I was taken home to assist my father in his business, which was that of a tallow-chandler and sope-boiler; a business 11 he was not bred to, but had assumed on his arrival in New England, and on finding his dying trade would not maintain his family, being in little request. Accordingly, I was employed in cutting wick for the candles, filling the dipping mold and the molds for cast candles, attending the shop, going of errands, etc.<\/p>\n<p>I disliked the trade, and had a strong inclination for the sea, but my father declared against it; however, living near the water, I was much in and about it, learnt early to swim well, and to manage boats; and when in a boat or canoe with other boys, I was commonly allowed to govern, especially in any case of difficulty; and upon other occasions I was generally a leader among the boys, and sometimes led them into scrapes, of which I will mention one instance, as it shows an early projecting public spirit, tho\u2019 not then justly conducted.<\/p>\n<p>There was a salt-marsh that bounded part of the mill-pond, on the edge of which, at high water, we used to stand to fish for minnows. By much trampling, we had made it a mere quagmire. My proposal was to build a wharff there fit for us to stand upon, and I showed my comrades a large heap of stones, which were intended for a new house near the marsh, and which would very well suit our purpose. Accordingly, in the evening, when the workmen were gone, I assembled a number of my play-fellows, and working with them diligently like so many emmets, sometimes two or three to a stone, we brought them all away and built our little wharff. The next morning the workmen were surprised at missing the stones, which were found in our wharff. Inquiry was made after the removers; we were discovered and complained of; several of us were corrected by our fathers; and though I pleaded the usefulness of the work, mine convinced me that nothing was useful which was not honest.<\/p>\n<p>I think you may like to know something of his person and character. He had an excellent constitution of body, was of middle stature, but well set, and very strong; he was ingenious, could draw prettily, was skilled a little in music, and had a clear pleasing voice, so that when he played psalm tunes on his violin and sung withal, as he sometimes 12 did in an evening after the business of the day was over, it was extremely agreeable to hear. He had a mechanical genius too, and, on occasion, was very handy in the use of other tradesmen\u2019s tools; but his great excellence lay in a sound understanding and solid judgment in prudential matters, both in private and publick affairs. In the latter, indeed, he was never employed, the numerous family he had to educate and the straitness of his circumstances keeping him close to his trade; but I remember well his being frequently visited by leading people, who consulted him for his opinion in affairs of the town or of the church he belonged to, and showed a good deal of respect for his judgment and advice: he was also much consulted by private persons about their affairs when any difficulty occurred, and frequently chosen an arbitrator between contending parties.<\/p>\n<p>At his table he liked to have, as often as he could, some sensible friend or neighbor to converse with, and always took care to start some ingenious or useful topic for discourse, which might tend to improve the minds of his children. By this means he turned our attention to what was good, just, and prudent in the conduct of life; and little or no notice was ever taken of what related to the victuals on the table, whether it was well or ill dressed, in or out of season, of good or bad flavor, preferable or inferior to this or that other thing of the kind, so that I was bro\u2019t up in such a perfect inattention to those matters as to be quite indifferent what kind of food was set before me, and so unobservant of it, that to this day if I am asked I can scarce tell a few hours after dinner what I dined upon. This has been a convenience to me in travelling, where my companions have been sometimes very unhappy for want of a suitable gratification of their more delicate, because better instructed, tastes and appetites.<\/p>\n<p>My mother had likewise an excellent constitution: she suckled all her ten children. I never knew either my father or mother to have any sickness but that of which they dy\u2019d, he at 89, and she at 85 years of age. They lie buried together at Boston, where I some years since placed a marble over their grave, with this inscription:<\/p>\n<p class=\"mt-indent-1\">JOSIAH FRANKLIN,<br \/>\nand<br \/>\nABIAH his wife,<br \/>\nlie here interred.<br \/>\nThey lived lovingly together in wedlock fifty-five years.<br \/>\nWithout an estate, or any gainful employment,<br \/>\nBy constant labor and industry,<br \/>\nwith God\u2019s blessing,<br \/>\nThey maintained a large family comfortably,<br \/>\nand brought up thirteen children<br \/>\nand seven grandchildren reputably.<br \/>\nFrom this instance, reader,<br \/>\nBe encouraged to diligence in thy calling,<br \/>\nAnd distrust not Providence.<br \/>\nHe was a pious and prudent man;<br \/>\nShe, a discreet and virtuous woman.<br \/>\nTheir youngest son,<br \/>\nIn filial regard to their memory,<br \/>\nPlaces this stone.<br \/>\nJ.F. born 1655, died 1744, \u00c6tat 89.<br \/>\nA.F. born 1667, died 1752,\u2014\u2014\u201485.<\/p>\n<p>By my rambling digressions I perceive myself to be grown old. I us\u2019d to write more methodically. But one does not dress for private company as for a publick ball. \u2018Tis perhaps only negligence.<\/p>\n<p>To return: I continued thus employed in my father\u2019s business for two years, that is, till I was twelve years old; and my brother John, who was bred to that business, having left my father, married, and set up for himself at Rhode Island, there was all appearance that I was destined to supply his place, and become a tallow-chandler. But my dislike to the trade continuing, my father was under apprehensions that if he did not find one for me more agreeable, I should break away and get to sea, as his son Josiah had done, to his great vexation. He therefore sometimes took me to walk with him, and see joiners, bricklayers, turners, braziers, etc., at their work, that he might observe my inclination, and endeavor to fix it on some trade or other on land. It has ever since been a pleasure to me to see good workmen handle their tools; and it has been useful to me, having learnt so much by it as to be able to do little jobs myself in my house when a workman could not readily be got, and to construct little machines for my experiments, while the intention of making the experiment was fresh and warm in my mind. My father at last fixed upon the cutler\u2019s trade, and my uncle Benjamin\u2019s son Samuel, who was bred to that business in London, being about that time established in Boston, I was sent to be with him some time on liking. But his expectations of a fee with me displeasing my father, I was taken home again.<\/p>\n<p>From a child I was fond of reading, and all the little money that came into my hands was ever laid out in books. Pleased with the Pilgrim\u2019s Progress, my first collection was of John Bunyan\u2019s works in separate little volumes. I afterward sold them to enable me to buy R. Burton\u2019s Historical Collections; they were small chapmen\u2019s books, and cheap, 40 or 50 in all. My father\u2019s little library consisted chiefly of books in polemic divinity, most of which I read, and have since often regretted that, at a time when I had such a thirst for knowledge, more proper books had not fallen in my way since it was now resolved I should not be a clergyman. Plutarch\u2019s Lives there was in which I read abundantly, and I still think that time spent to great advantage. There was also a book of De Foe\u2019s, called an Essay on Projects, and another of Dr. Mather\u2019s, called Essays to do Good, which perhaps gave me a turn of thinking that had an influence on some of the principal future events of my life.<\/p>\n<p>This bookish inclination at length determined my father to make me a printer, though he had already one son (James) of that profession. In 1717 my brother James returned from England with a press and letters to set up his business in Boston. I liked it much better than that of my father, but still had a hankering for the sea. To prevent the apprehended effect of such an inclination, my father was impatient to have me bound to my brother. I stood out some time, but at last was persuaded, and signed the indentures when I was yet but twelve years old. I was to serve as an apprentice till I was twenty-one years of age, only I was to be allowed journeyman\u2019s wages during the last year. In a little time I made great proficiency in the 15 business, and became a useful hand to my brother. I now had access to better books. An acquaintance with the apprentices of booksellers enabled me sometimes to borrow a small one, which I was careful to return soon and clean. Often I sat up in my room reading the greatest part of the night, when the book was borrowed in the evening and to be returned early in the morning, lest it should be missed or wanted.<\/p>\n<p>And after some time an ingenious tradesman, Mr. Matthew Adams, who had a pretty collection of books, and who frequented our printing-house, took notice of me, invited me to his library, and very kindly lent me such books as I chose to read. I now took a fancy to poetry, and made some little pieces; my brother, thinking it might turn to account, encouraged me, and put me on composing occasional ballads. One was called The Lighthouse Tragedy, and contained an account of the drowning of Captain Worthilake, with his two daughters: the other was a sailor\u2019s song, on the taking of Teach (or Blackbeard) the pirate. They were wretched stuff, in the Grub-street-ballad style; and when they were printed he sent me about the town to sell them. The first sold wonderfully, the event being recent, having made a great noise. This flattered my vanity; but my father discouraged me by ridiculing my performances, and telling me verse-makers were generally beggars. So I escaped being a poet, most probably a very bad one; but as prose writing had been of great use to me in the course of my life, and was a principal means of my advancement, I shall tell you how, in such a situation, I acquired what little ability I have in that way.<\/p>\n<p>There was another bookish lad in the town, John Collins by name, with whom I was intimately acquainted. We sometimes disputed, and very fond we were of argument, and very desirous of confuting one another, which disputatious turn, by the way, is apt to become a very bad habit, making people often extremely disagreeable in company by the contradiction that is necessary to bring it into practice; and thence, besides souring and spoiling the conversation, is productive of disgusts and, perhaps enmities where you may have occasion for friendship. I had caught it by reading my father\u2019s books of dispute about religion. Persons of good sense, I have since observed, seldom fall into it, except lawyers, university men, and men of all sorts that have been bred at Edinborough.<\/p>\n<p>A question was once, somehow or other, started between Collins and me, of the propriety of educating the female sex in learning, and their abilities for study. He was of opinion that it was improper, and that they were naturally unequal to it. I took the contrary side, perhaps a little for dispute\u2019s sake. He was naturally more eloquent, had a ready plenty of words; and sometimes, as I thought, bore me down more by his fluency than by the strength of his reasons. As we parted without settling the point, and were not to see one another again for some time, I sat down to put my arguments in writing, which I copied fair and sent to him. He answered, and I replied. Three or four letters of a side had passed, when my father happened to find my papers and read them. Without entering into the discussion, he took occasion to talk to me about the manner of my writing; observed that, though I had the advantage of my antagonist in correct spelling and pointing (which I ow\u2019d to the printing-house), I fell far short in elegance of expression, in method and in perspicuity, of which he convinced me by several instances. I saw the justice of his remark, and thence grew more attentive to the manner in writing, and determined to endeavor at improvement.<\/p>\n<p>About this time I met with an odd volume of the Spectator. It was the third. I had never before seen any of them. I bought it, read it over and over, and was much delighted with it. I thought the writing excellent, and wished, if possible, to imitate it. With this view I took some of the papers, and, making short hints of the sentiment in each sentence, laid them by a few days, and then, without looking at the book, try\u2019d to compleat the papers again, by expressing each hinted sentiment at length, and as fully as it had been expressed before, in any suitable words that should come to hand. Then I compared my Spectator with the original, discovered some of my 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 acquired 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 turned them into verse; and, after a time, when I had pretty well forgotten the prose, turned them back again. I also sometimes jumbled my collections of hints into confusion, and after some weeks endeavored 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 discovered 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 encouraged me to think I might possibly in time come to be a tolerable English writer, of which I was extremely 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 public worship which my father used to exact on me when I was under his care, and which indeed I still thought a duty, though I could not, as it seemed to me, afford time to practise it.<\/p>\n<p>When about 16 years of age I happened 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\u2019s manner of preparing some of his dishes, such as boiling potatoes or rice, making hasty pudding, and a few others, and then proposed 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 remained there alone, and, despatching 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 pastrycook\u2019s, 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.<\/p>\n<p>And now it was that, being on some occasion made asham\u2019d of my ignorance in figures, which I had twice failed in learning when at school, I took Cocker\u2019s book of Arithmetick, and went through the whole by myself with great ease. I also read Seller\u2019s and Shermy\u2019s 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 Messrs. du Port Royal.<\/p>\n<p>While I was intent on improving my language, I met with an English grammar (I think it was Greenwood\u2019s), 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\u2019d Xenophon\u2019s Memorable Things of Socrates, wherein there are many instances of the same method. I was charm\u2019d with it, adopted it, dropt my abrupt contradiction and positive argumentation, and put on the humble inquirer 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 used it; therefore I took a delight in it, practis\u2019d 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\u2019d 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 advanced 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 apprehend a thing to be so and 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\u2019d in promoting; and, as the chief ends of conversation are to inform or to be informed, to please or to persuade, I wish well-meaning, 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 to us, to wit, giving or receiving information or pleasure. For, if you would inform, a positive and 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\u2019d 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:<\/p>\n<p class=\"mt-indent-1\">\u201cMen should be taught as if you taught them not,<br \/>\nAnd things unknown propos\u2019d as things forgot;\u201d<\/p>\n<p>farther recommending to us<\/p>\n<p class=\"mt-indent-1\">\u201cTo speak, tho\u2019 sure, with seeming diffidence.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>And he might have coupled with this line that which he has coupled with another, I think, less properly,<\/p>\n<p class=\"mt-indent-1\">\u201cFor want of modesty is want of sense.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>If you ask, Why less properly? I must repeat the lines,<\/p>\n<p class=\"mt-indent-1\">\u201cImmodest words admit of no defense,<br \/>\nFor want of modesty is want of sense.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>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?<\/p>\n<p class=\"mt-indent-1\">\u201cImmodest words admit but this defense,<br \/>\nThat want of modesty is want of sense.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>This, however, I should submit to better judgments.<\/p>\n<p>My brother had, in 1720 or 1721, begun to print a newspaper. It was the second that appeared in America, and was called the New England Courant. 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 fiveand-twenty. He went on, however, with the undertaking, and after having worked in composing the types and printing off the sheets, I was employed to carry the papers thro\u2019 the streets to the customers.<\/p>\n<p>He had some ingenious men among his friends, who amus\u2019d themselves by writing little pieces for this paper, which gain\u2019d 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 received with, I was excited to try my hand among them; but, being still a boy, and suspecting that my brother would object to printing anything of mine in his paper if he knew it to be mine, I contrived 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\u2019d 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\u2019d them.<\/p>\n<p>Encourag\u2019d, however, by this, I wrote and convey\u2019d in the same way to the press several more papers which were equally approv\u2019d; 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\u2019s 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. Though 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\u2019d me too much in some he requir\u2019d 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 favor. 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.<\/p>\n<p>One of the pieces in our newspaper on some political point, which I have now forgotten, gave offense to the Assembly. He was taken up, censur\u2019d, and imprison\u2019d for a month, by the speaker\u2019s warrant, I suppose, because he would not discover his author. I too was taken up and examin\u2019d before the council; but, tho\u2019 I did not give them any satisfaction, they content\u2019d themselves with admonishing me, and dismissed me, considering me, perhaps, as an apprentice, who was bound to keep his master\u2019s secrets.<\/p>\n<p>During my brother\u2019s 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 unfavorable light, as a young genius that had a turn for libelling and satyr. My brother\u2019s discharge was accompany\u2019d with an order of the House (a very odd one), that \u201cJames Franklin should no longer print the paper called the New England Courant.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>There was a consultation held in our printing-house among his friends, what he should do in this case. Some proposed 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\u2019d 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, which were to be kept private. A very flimsy scheme it was; however, it was immediately executed, and the paper went on accordingly, under my name for several months.<\/p>\n<p>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 urged him to bestow upon me, though he was otherwise not an ill-natur\u2019d man: perhaps I was too saucy and provoking.<\/p>\n<p>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\u2019d to give me work. I then thought of going to New York, as the nearest place where there was a printer; and I was rather inclin\u2019d 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\u2019s case, it was likely I might, if I stay\u2019d, 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\u2019d 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 publicly. 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.<\/p>\n<p>My inclinations for the sea were by this time worne out, or I might now have gratify\u2019d them. But, having a trade, and supposing myself a pretty good workman, I offer\u2019d my service to the printer in the place, old Mr. William Bradford, who had been the first printer in Pennsylvania, but removed from thence upon the quarrel of George Keith. He could give me no employment, having little to do, and help enough already; but says he, \u201cMy son at Philadelphia has lately lost his principal hand, Aquila Rose, by death; if you go thither, I believe he may employ you.\u201d Philadelphia was a hundred miles further; I set out, however, in a boat for Amboy, leaving my chest and things to follow me round by sea.<\/p>\n<\/footer>\n<div class=\"elm-article-feedback\">\n<div class=\"mt-feedback-rating-container\">\n<hr \/>\n<p class=\"\">I have been the more particular in this description of my journey, and shall be so of my first entry into that city [Philadelphia], 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\u2019d out with shirts and stockings, and 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\u2019d it, on account 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\u2019 fear of being thought to have but little.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">Then I walked 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\u2019s he directed me to, in Second-street, and ask\u2019d for bisket, intending such as we had in Boston; but they, it seems, were not made in Philadelphia. Then I asked for a three-penny 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 made him give me three-penny worth of any sort. He gave me, accordingly, three great puffy rolls. I was surpriz\u2019d at the quantity, but took it, and, having no room in my pockets, walk\u2019d 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\u2019s father; when she, standing at the door, saw me, and thought I made, as I certainly did, a most awkward, ridiculous appearance. Then I turned 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 wharf, near the boat I came in, to which I went for a draught of the river water; and, being filled 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.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">Thus refreshed, I walked again up the street, which by this time had many clean-dressed people in it, who were all walking the same way. I joined 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\u2019 labor and want of rest the preceding night, I fell fast asleep, and continued 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.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">Walking down again toward the river, and, looking in the faces of people, I met a young Quaker man, whose countenance I lik\u2019d, and, accosting him, requested he would tell me where a stranger could get lodging. We were then near the sign of the Three Mariners. \u201cHere,\u201d says he, \u201cis one place that entertains strangers, but it is not a reputable house; if thee wilt walk with me, I\u2019ll show thee a better.\u201d 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 asked me, as it seemed to be suspected from my youth and appearance, that I might be some runaway.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">After dinner, my sleepiness return\u2019d, and being shown to a bed, I lay down without undressing, and slept till six in the evening, was call\u2019d 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\u2019s. 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\u2019d me to his son, who receiv\u2019d me civilly, gave me a breakfast, but told me he did not at present want a hand, being lately suppli\u2019d 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.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">The old gentleman said he would go with me to the new printer; and when we found him, \u201cNeighbor,\u201d says Bradford, \u201cI have brought to see you a young man of your business; perhaps you may want such a one.\u201d He ask\u2019d me a few questions, put a composing stick in my hand to see how I work\u2019d, and then said he would employ me soon, though he had just then nothing for me to do; and, taking old Bradford, whom he had never seen before, to be one of the town\u2019s people that had a good will for him, enter\u2019d into a conversation on his present undertaking and prospects; while Bradford, not discovering that he was the other printer\u2019s father, on Keimer\u2019s saying he expected soon to get the greatest part of the business into his own hands, drew him on by artful questions, and starting little doubts, to explain all his views, what interests he reli\u2019d on, and in what manner he intended to proceed. I, who stood by and heard all, saw immediately that one of them was a crafty old sophister, and the other a mere novice. Bradford left me with Keimer, who was greatly surpris\u2019d when I told him who the old man was.<\/p>\n<p><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignleft wp-image-323 size-medium\" src=\"https:\/\/s3-us-west-2.amazonaws.com\/courses-images\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/5583\/2021\/02\/17214718\/22-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"old printing press\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" \/><\/p>\n<p class=\"\">Keimer\u2019s printing-house, I found, consisted of an old shatter\u2019d press, and one small, worn-out font of English which he was then using himself, composing an Elegy on Aquila Rose, before mentioned, an ingenious young man, of excellent character, much respected in the town, clerk of the Assembly, and a pretty poet. Keimer made verses too, but very indifferently. He could not be said to write them, for his manner was to compose them in the types directly out of his head. So there being no copy, but one pair of cases, and the Elegy likely to require all the letter, no one could help him. I endeavor\u2019d to put his press (which he had not yet us\u2019d, and of which he understood nothing) into order fit to be work\u2019d with; and, promising to come and print off his Elegy as soon as he should have got it ready, I return\u2019d to Bradford\u2019s, who gave me a little job to do for the present, and there I lodged and dieted. A few days after, Keimer sent for me to print off the Elegy. And now he had got another pair of cases, and a pamphlet to reprint, on which he set me to work.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">These two printers I found poorly qualified for their business. Bradford had not been bred to it, and was very illiterate; and Keimer, tho\u2019 something of a scholar, was a mere compositor, knowing nothing of presswork. He had been one of the French prophets, and could act their enthusiastic agitations. At this time he did not profess any particular religion, but something of all on occasion; was very ignorant of the world, and had, as I afterward found, a good deal of the knave in his composition. He did not like my lodging at Bradford\u2019s while I work\u2019d with him. He had a house, indeed, but without furniture, so he could not lodge me; but he got me a lodging at Mr. Read\u2019s, before mentioned, who was the owner of his house; and, my chest and clothes being come by this time, I made rather a more respectable appearance in the eyes of Miss Read than I had done when she first happen\u2019d to see me eating my roll in the street.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">I began now to have some acquaintance among the young people of the town, that were lovers of reading, with whom I spent my evenings very pleasantly; and gaining money by my industry and frugality, I lived very agreeably, forgetting Boston as much as I could, and not desiring that any there should know where I resided, except my friend Collins, who was in my secret, and kept it when I wrote to him. At length, an incident happened that sent me back again much sooner than I had intended. I had a brother-in-law, Robert Holmes, master of a sloop that traded between Boston and Delaware. He being at Newcastle, forty miles below Philadelphia, heard there of me, and wrote me a letter mentioning the concern of my friends in Boston at my abrupt departure, assuring me of their good will to me, and that every thing would be accommodated to my mind if I would return, to which he exhorted me very earnestly. I wrote an answer to his letter, thank\u2019d him for his advice, but stated my reasons for quitting Boston fully and in such a light as to convince him I was not so wrong as he had apprehended.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">Sir William Keith, governor of the province, was then at Newcastle, and Captain Holmes, happening to be in company with him when my letter came to hand, spoke to him of me, and show\u2019d him the letter. The governor read it, and seem\u2019d surpris\u2019d when he was told my age. He said I appear\u2019d a young man of promising parts, and therefore should be encouraged; the printers at Philadelphia were wretched ones; and, if I would set up there, he made no doubt I should succeed; for his part, he would procure me the public business, and do me every other service in his power. This my brother-in-law afterwards told me in Boston, but I knew as yet nothing of it; when, one day, Keimer and I being at work together near the window, we saw the governor and another gentleman (which proved to be Colonel French, of Newcastle), finely dress\u2019d, come directly across the street to our house, and heard them at the door.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">Keimer ran down immediately, thinking it a visit to him; but the governor inquir\u2019d for me, came up, and with a condescension of politeness I had been quite unus\u2019d to, made me many compliments, desired to be acquainted with me, blam\u2019d me kindly for not having made myself known to him when I first came to the place, and would have me away with him to the tavern, where he was going with Colonel French to taste, as he said, some excellent Madeira. I was not a little surprised, and Keimer star\u2019d like a pig poison\u2019d. I went, however, with the governor and Colonel French to a tavern, at the corner of Third-street, and over the Madeira he propos\u2019d my setting up my business, laid before me the probabilities of success, and both he and Colonel French assur\u2019d me I should have their interest and influence in procuring the public business of both governments. On my doubting whether my father would assist me in it, Sir William said he would give me a letter to him, in which he would state the advantages, and he did not doubt of prevailing with him. So it was concluded I should return to Boston in the first vessel, with the governor\u2019s letter recommending me to my father. In the mean time the intention was to be kept a secret, and I went on working with Keimer as usual, the governor sending for me now and then to dine with him, a very great honor I thought it, and conversing with me in the most affable, familiar, and friendly manner imaginable.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">About the end of April, 1724, a little vessel offer\u2019d for Boston. I took leave of Keimer as going to see my friends. The governor gave me an ample letter, saying many flattering things of me to my father, and strongly recommending the project of my setting up at Philadelphia as a thing that must make my fortune. We struck on a shoal in going down the bay, and sprung a leak; we had a blustering time at sea, and were oblig\u2019d to pump almost continually, at which I took my turn. We arriv\u2019d safe, however, at Boston in about a fortnight. I had been absent seven months, and my friends had heard nothing of me; for my br. Holmes was not yet return\u2019d, and had not written about me. My unexpected appearance surpriz\u2019d the family; all were, however, very glad to see me, and made me welcome, except my brother. I went to see him at his printing-house. I was better dress\u2019d than ever while in his service, having a genteel new suit from head to foot, a watch, and my pockets lin\u2019d with near five pounds sterling in silver. He receiv\u2019d me not very frankly, look\u2019d me all over, and turn\u2019d to his work again.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">The journeymen were inquisitive where I had been, what sort of a country it was, and how I lik\u2019d it. I prais\u2019d it much, the happy life I led in it, expressing strongly my intention of returning to it; and, one of them asking what kind of money we had there, I produc\u2019d a handful of silver, and spread it before them, which was a kind of raree-show they had not been us\u2019d to, paper being the money of Boston. Then I took an opportunity of letting them see my watch; and, lastly (my brother still grum and sullen), I gave them a piece of eight to drink, and took my leave. This visit of mine offended him extreamly; for, when my mother some time after spoke to him of a reconciliation, and of her wishes to see us on good terms together, and that we might live for the future as brothers, he said I had insulted him in such a manner before his people that he could never forget or forgive it. In this, however, he was mistaken.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">My father received the governor\u2019s letter with some apparent surprise, but said little of it to me for some days, when Capt. Holmes returning he showed it to him, ask\u2019d him if he knew Keith, and what kind of man he was; adding his opinion that he must be of small discretion to think of setting a boy up in business who wanted yet three years of being at man\u2019s estate. Holmes said what he could in favor of the project, but my father was clear in the impropriety of it, and at last gave a flat denial to it. Then he wrote a civil letter to Sir William, thanking him for the patronage he had so kindly offered me, but declining to assist me as yet in setting up, I being, in his opinion, too young to be trusted with the management of a business so important, and for which the preparation must be so expensive.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">My friend and companion Collins, who was a clerk in the post-office, pleas\u2019d with the account I gave him of my new country, determined to go thither also; and, while I waited for my father\u2019s determination, he set out before me by land to Rhode Island, leaving his books, which were a pretty collection of mathematicks and natural philosophy, to come with mine and me to New York, where he propos\u2019d to wait for me.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">My father, tho\u2019 he did not approve Sir William\u2019s proposition, was yet pleas\u2019d that I had been able to obtain so advantageous a character from a person of such note where I had resided, and that I had been so industrious and careful as to equip myself so handsomely in so short a time; therefore, seeing no prospect of an accommodation between my brother and me, he gave his consent to my returning again to Philadelphia, advis\u2019d me to behave respectfully to the people there, endeavor to obtain the general esteem, and avoid lampooning and libeling, to which he thought I had too much inclination; telling me, that by steady industry and a prudent parsimony I might save enough by the time I was one-and-twenty to set me up; and that, if I came near the matter, he would help me out with the rest. This was all I could obtain, except some small gifts as tokens of his and my mother\u2019s love, when I embark\u2019d again for New York, now with their approbation and their blessing.<\/p>\n<hr \/>\n<p class=\"\">I believe I have omitted mentioning that, in my first voyage from Boston, being becalm\u2019d off Block Island, our people set about catching cod, and hauled up a great many. Hitherto I had stuck to my resolution of not eating animal food, and on this occasion consider\u2019d, with my master Tryon, the taking every fish as a kind of unprovoked murder, since none of them had, or ever could do us any injury that might justify the slaughter. All this seemed very reasonable. But I had formerly been a great lover of fish, and, when this came hot out of the frying-pan, it smelt admirably well. I balanc\u2019d some time between principle and inclination, till I recollected that, when the fish were opened, I saw smaller fish taken out of their stomachs; then thought I, \u201cIf you eat one another, I don\u2019t see why we mayn\u2019t eat you.\u201d So I din\u2019d upon cod very heartily, and continued to eat with other people, returning only now and then occasionally to a vegetable diet. So convenient a thing it is to be a reasonable creature, since it enables one to find or make a reason for everything one has a mind to do.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">Keimer and I liv\u2019d on a pretty good familiar footing, and agreed tolerably well, for he suspected nothing of my setting up. He retained a great deal of his old enthusiasms and lov\u2019d argumentation. We therefore had many disputations. I used to work him so with my Socratic method, and had trepann\u2019d him so often by questions apparently so distant from any point we had in hand, and yet by degrees lead to the point, and brought him into difficulties and contradictions, that at last he grew ridiculously cautious, and would hardly answer me the most common question, without asking first, \u201cWhat do you intend to infer from that?\u201d However, it gave him so high an opinion of my abilities in the confuting way, that he seriously proposed my being his colleague in a project he had of setting up a new sect. He was to preach the doctrines, and I was to confound all opponents. When he came to explain with me upon the doctrines, I found several conundrums which I objected to, unless I might have my way a little too, and introduce some of mine.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">Keimer wore his beard at full length, because somewhere in the Mosaic law it is said, \u201cThou shalt not mar the corners of thy beard.\u201d He likewise kept the Seventh day, Sabbath; and these two points were essentials with him. I dislik\u2019d both; but agreed to admit them upon condition of his adopting the doctrine of using no animal food. \u201cI doubt,\u201d said he, \u201cmy constitution will not bear that.\u201d I assur\u2019d him it would, and that he would be the better for it. He was usually a great glutton, and I promised myself some diversion in half starving him. He agreed to try the practice, if I would keep him company. I did so, and we held it for three months. We had our victuals dress\u2019d, and brought to us regularly by a woman in the neighborhood, who had from me a list of forty dishes to be prepar\u2019d for us at different times, in all which there was neither fish, flesh, nor fowl, and the whim suited me the better at this time from the cheapness of it, not costing us above eighteenpence sterling each per week. I have since kept several Lents most strictly, leaving the common diet for that, and that for the common, abruptly, without the least inconvenience, so that I think there is little in the advice of making those changes by easy gradations. I went on pleasantly, but poor Keimer suffered grievously, tired of the project, long\u2019d for the flesh-pots of Egypt, and order\u2019d a roast pig. He invited me and two women friends to dine with him; but, it being brought too soon upon table, he could not resist the temptation, and ate the whole before we came.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">I had made some courtship during this time to Miss Read. I had a great respect and affection for her, and had some reason to believe she had the same for me; but, as I was about to take a long voyage, and we were both very young, only a little above eighteen, it was thought most prudent by her mother to prevent our going too far at present, as a marriage, if it was to take place, would be more convenient after my return, when I should be, as I expected, set up in my business. Perhaps, too, she thought my expectations not so well founded as I imagined them to be.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">My chief acquaintances at this time were Charles Osborne, Joseph Watson, and James Ralph, all lovers of reading. The two first were clerks to an eminent scrivener or conveyancer in the town, Charles Brogden; the other was 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 criticising. Ralph was ingenious, genteel in his manners, and extremely eloquent; I think I never knew a prettier talker. Both of them great admirers of poetry, and began to try their hands in little pieces. Many pleasant walks we four had together on Sundays into the woods, near Schuylkill, where we read to one another, and conferr\u2019d on what we read.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">Ralph was inclin\u2019d to pursue the study of poetry, not doubting but he might become eminent in it, and make his fortune by it, alleging that the best poets must, when they first began to write, make as many faults as he did. Osborne dissuaded him, assur\u2019d him he had no genius for poetry, and advis\u2019d him to think of nothing beyond the business he was bred to; that, in the mercantile way, tho\u2019 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 approv\u2019d the amusing one\u2019s self with poetry now and then, so far as to improve one\u2019s language, but no farther.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">On this it was propos\u2019d 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 were what we had in view, we excluded all considerations of invention 39 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 show\u2019d me his piece for my opinion, and I much approv\u2019d it, as it appear\u2019d to me to have great merit. \u201cNow,\u201d says he, \u201cOsborne never will allow the least merit in any thing of mine, but makes 1000 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 see what he will say to it.\u201d It was agreed, and I immediately transcrib\u2019d it, that it might appear in my own hand.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">We met; Watson\u2019s performance was read; there were some beauties in it, but many defects. Osborne\u2019s 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, etc.; but no excuse could be admitted; produce I must. It was read and repeated; Watson and Osborne gave up the contest, and join\u2019d in applauding it. Ralph only made some criticisms, and propos\u2019d some amendments; but I defended my text. Osborne was against Ralph, and told him he was no better a critic than poet, so he dropt the argument. As they two went home together, Osborne expressed himself still more strongly in favor of what he thought my production; having restrain\u2019d himself before, as he said, lest I should think it flattery. \u201cBut who would have imagin\u2019d,\u201d said he, \u201cthat Franklin had been capable of such a performance; such painting, such force, such fire! He has even improv\u2019d the original. In his common conversation he seems to have no choice of words; he hesitates and blunders; and yet, good God! how he writes!\u201d When we next met, Ralph discovered the trick we had plaid him, and Osborne was a little laught at.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">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. He became, however, a pretty good prose writer. More of him hereafter. But, as I may not have occasion again 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, but died young. He and I had made a serious agreement, that the one who happen\u2019d 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 fulfill\u2019d his promise.<\/p>\n<hr \/>\n<p class=\"\">[Franklin is now in London] I immediately got into work at Palmer\u2019s, then a famous printing-house in Bartholomew Close, and here I continu\u2019d near a year. I was pretty diligent, but spent with Ralph a good deal of my earnings in going to plays and other places of amusement. We had together consumed all my pistoles, and now just rubbed on from hand to mouth. He seem\u2019d quite to forget 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 should 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.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"mt-feedback-rating-container\">\n<p><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignright wp-image-325 size-medium\" src=\"https:\/\/s3-us-west-2.amazonaws.com\/courses-images\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/5583\/2021\/02\/17215120\/130-300x199.jpg\" alt=\"setting type\" width=\"300\" height=\"199\" \/><\/p>\n<p class=\"\">At Palmer\u2019s I was employed in composing for the second edition of Wollaston\u2019s \u201cReligion of Nature.\u201d 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 \u201cA Dissertation on Liberty and Necessity, Pleasure and Pain.\u201d I inscribed it to my friend Ralph; I printed a small number. It occasion\u2019d my being more consider\u2019d by Mr. Palmer as a young man of some ingenuity, tho\u2019 he seriously expostulated with me upon the principles of my pamphlet, which to him appear\u2019d abominable. My printing this pamphlet was another erratum. While I lodg\u2019d in Little Britain, I made an acquaintance with one Wilcox, a bookseller, whose shop was at the 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 esteem\u2019d a great advantage, and I made as much use of it as I could.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">My pamphlet by some means falling into the hands of one Lyons, a surgeon, author of a book entitled \u201cThe Infallibility of Human Judgment,\u201d 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 \u2014\u2014\u2014 Lane, Cheapside, and introduced me to Dr. Mandeville, author of the \u201cFable of the Bees,\u201d who had a club there, of which he was the soul, being a most facetious, entertaining companion. Lyons, too, introduced me to Dr. Pemberton, at Batson\u2019s Coffee-house, who promis\u2019d to give me an opportunity, some time or other, of seeing Sir Isaac Newton, of which I was extreamely desirous; but this never happened.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">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, and invited me to his house in Bloomsbury Square, where he show\u2019d me all his curiosities, and persuaded me to let him add that to the number, for which he paid me handsomely.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">In our house there lodg\u2019d a young woman, a milliner, who, I think, had a shop in the Cloisters. She had been genteelly bred, was sensible and lively, and of most pleasing conversation. Ralph read plays to her in the evenings, they grew intimate, she took another lodging, and he followed her. They liv\u2019d together some time; but, he being still out of business, and her income not sufficient to maintain them with her child, he took a resolution of going from London, to try for a country school, which he thought himself well qualified to undertake, as he wrote an excellent hand, and was a master of arithmetic and accounts. This, however, he deemed a business below him, and confident of future better fortune, when he should be unwilling to have it known that he once was so meanly employed, he changed his name, and did me the honor to assume mine; for I soon after had a letter from him, acquainting me that he was settled in a small village (in Berkshire, I think it was, where he taught reading and writing to ten or a dozen boys, at sixpence each per week), recommending Mrs. T\u2014\u2014\u2014 to my care, and desiring me to write to him, directing for Mr. Franklin, schoolmaster, at such a place.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">He continued to write frequently, sending me large specimens of an epic poem which he was then composing, and desiring my remarks and corrections. These I gave him from time to time, but endeavor\u2019d rather to discourage his proceeding. One of Young\u2019s Satires was then just published. I copy\u2019d and sent him a great part of it, which set in a strong light the folly of pursuing the Muses with any hope of advancement by them. All was in vain; sheets of the poem continued to come by every post. In the mean time, Mrs. T\u2014\u2014\u2014, having on his account lost her friends and business, was often in distresses, and us\u2019d to send for me, and borrow what I could spare to help her out of them. I grew fond of her company, and, being at that time under no religious restraint, and presuming upon my importance to her, I attempted familiarities (another erratum) which she repuls\u2019d with a proper resentment, and acquainted him with my behaviour. This made a breach between us; and, when he returned again to London, he let me know he thought I had cancell\u2019d all the obligations he had been under to me. So I found I was never to expect his repaying me what I lent to him, or advanc\u2019d for him. This, however, was not then of much consequence, as he was totally unable; and in the loss of his friendship I found myself relieved from a burthen. I now began to think of getting a little money beforehand, and, expecting better work, I left Palmer\u2019s to work at Watts\u2019s, near Lincoln\u2019s Inn Fields, a still greater printing-house. Here I continued all the rest of my stay in London.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">At my first admission into this printing-house I took to working at press, imagining I felt a want of the bodily exercise I had been us\u2019d to in America, where presswork is mix\u2019d with composing. I drank only water; the other workmen, near fifty in number, were great guzzlers 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\u2019clock, and another when he had done his day\u2019s work. I thought it a detestable custom; but it was necessary, he suppos\u2019d, to drink strong beer, that he might be strong to labor. I endeavored 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 would 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 muddling liquor; an expense I was free from. And thus these poor devils keep themselves always under.<\/p>\n<hr \/>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"mt-feedback-rating-container\">\n<p>He [Franklin&#8217;s friend, Mr. Denham] 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 propos\u2019d 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, etc., to the West Indies, and procure me commissions from others which would be profitable; and, if I manag\u2019d well, would establish me handsomely. The thing pleas\u2019d me; for I was grown tired of London, remembered with pleasure the happy months I had spent in Pennsylvania, and wish\u2019d 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 a better prospect.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">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 seeing them pack\u2019d up, doing errands, calling upon workmen to dispatch, etc.; and, when all was on board, I had a few days\u2019 leisure. On one of these days, I was, to my surprise, sent for by a great man I knew only by name, a Sir William Wyndham, and I waited upon him. He had heard by some means or other of my swimming from Chelsea to Blackfriar\u2019s, 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 wish\u2019d 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 this 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 sooner made me, probably I should not so soon have returned to America. After many years, you and I had something of more importance to do with one of these sons of Sir William Wyndham, become Earl of Egremont, which I shall mention in its place.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">Thus I spent about eighteen months in London; most part of the time I work\u2019d 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 lov\u2019d him, notwithstanding, for he had many amiable qualities. I had by no means improv\u2019d my fortune; but I had picked up some very ingenious acquaintance, whose conversation was of great advantage to me; and I had read considerably.<\/p>\n<hr \/>\n<p class=\"\">About this time [1729] 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 oppos\u2019d any addition, being against all paper currency, from an apprehension that it would depreciate, as it had done in New England, to the prejudice of all creditors. We had discuss\u2019d this point in our Junto, where I was on the side of an addition, being persuaded that the first small sum struck in 1723 had done much good by increasing the trade, employment, and number of inhabitants in the province, since I now saw all the old houses inhabited, and many new ones building: whereas I remembered well, that when I first walk\u2019d about the streets of Philadelphia, eating my roll, I saw most of the houses in Walnut-street, between Second and Front streets, with bills on their doors, \u201cTo be let\u201d; and many likewise in Chestnut-street and other streets, which made me then think the inhabitants of the city were deserting it one after another.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">Our debates possess\u2019d me so fully of the subject, that I wrote and printed an anonymous pamphlet on it, entitled \u201cThe Nature and Necessity of a Paper Currency.\u201d It was well receiv\u2019d by the common people in general; but the rich men dislik\u2019d it, for it increas\u2019d and strengthen\u2019d the clamor for more money, and they happening to have no writers among them that were able to answer it, their opposition slacken\u2019d, and the point was carried by a majority in the House. My friends there, who conceiv\u2019d I had been of some service, thought fit to reward me by employing me in printing the money; a very profitable jobb and a great help to me. This was another advantage gain\u2019d by my being able to write.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">The utility of this currency became by time and experience so evident as never afterwards to be much disputed; so that it grew soon to fifty-five thousand pounds, and in 1739 to eighty thousand pounds, since which it arose during war to upwards of three hundred and fifty thousand pounds, trade, building, and inhabitants all the while increasing, tho\u2019 I now think there are limits beyond which the quantity may be hurtful.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">I soon after obtain\u2019d, thro\u2019 my friend Hamilton, the printing of the Newcastle paper money, another profitable jobb as I then thought it; small things appearing great to those in small circumstances; and these, to me, were really great advantages, as they were great encouragements. He procured for me, also, the printing of the laws and votes of that government, which continu\u2019d in my hands as long as I follow\u2019d the business.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">I now open\u2019d a little stationer\u2019s shop. I had in it blanks of all sorts, the correctest that ever appear\u2019d among us, being assisted in that by my friend Breintnal. I had also paper, parchment, chapmen\u2019s books, etc. One Whitemash, a compositor I had known in London, an excellent workman, now came to me, and work\u2019d with me constantly and diligently; and I took an apprentice, the son of Aquila Rose.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">I began now gradually to pay off the debt I was under for the printing-house. In order to secure my credit and character as a tradesman, I took care not only to be in reality industrious and frugal, but to avoid all appearances to the contrary. I drest plainly; I was seen at no places of idle diversion. I never went out a fishing or shooting; a book, indeed, sometimes debauch\u2019d me from my work, but that was seldom, snug, and gave no scandal; and, to show that I was not above my business, I sometimes brought home the paper I purchas\u2019d at the stores thro\u2019 the streets on a wheelbarrow. Thus being esteem\u2019d an industrious, thriving young man, and paying duly for what I bought, the merchants who imported stationery solicited my custom; others proposed supplying me with books, and I went on swimmingly. In the mean time, Keimer\u2019s credit and business declining daily, he was at last forc\u2019d to sell his printing-house to satisfy his creditors. He went to Barbadoes, and there lived some years in very poor circumstances.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">His apprentice, David Harry, whom I had instructed while I work\u2019d 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 propos\u2019d a partnership to him which he, fortunately for me, rejected with scorn. He was very proud, dress\u2019d like a gentleman, liv\u2019d 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 employ\u2019d his former master as a journeyman; they quarrel\u2019d often; Harry went continually behindhand, and at length was forc\u2019d to sell his types and return to his country work in Pensilvania. The person that bought them employ\u2019d Keimer to use them, but in a few years he died.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">There remained now no competitor with me at Philadelphia but the old one, Bradford; who was rich and easy, did a little printing now and then by straggling hands, but was not very anxious about the business. However, as he kept the postoffice, it was imagined he had better opportunities of obtaining news; his paper was thought a better distributer of advertisements than mine, and therefore had many more, which was a profitable thing to him, and a disadvantage to me; for, tho\u2019 I did indeed receive and send papers by the post, yet the publick 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 occasion\u2019d some resentment on my part; and I thought so meanly of him for it, that, when I afterward came into his situation, I took care never to imitate it.<\/p>\n<hr \/>\n<p class=\"\">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 afterwards obtain\u2019d a charter, the company being increased to one hundred: this was the mother of all the North American subscription libraries, now so numerous. It is become a great thing itself, and continually increasing. These libraries have improved the general conversation of the Americans, made the common tradesmen and farmers as intelligent as most gentlemen from other countries, and perhaps have contributed in some degree to the stand so generally made throughout the colonies in defense of their privileges.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">Memo. Thus far was written with the intention express\u2019d in the beginning and therefore contains several little family anecdotes of no importance to others. What follows was written many years after in compliance with the advice contain\u2019d in these letters, and accordingly intended for the public. The affairs of the Revolution occasion\u2019d the interruption.<\/p>\n<h3>Part II<\/h3>\n<p class=\"\">Not having any copy here of what is already written, I know not whether an account is given of the means I used to establish the Philadelphia public library, which, from a small beginning, is now become so considerable, though I remember to have come down to near the time of that transaction (1730). I will therefore begin here with an account of it, which may be struck out if found to have been already given.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">At the time I establish\u2019d myself in Pennsylvania, there was not a good bookseller\u2019s shop in any of the colonies to the southward of Boston. In New York and Philad\u2019a the printers were indeed stationers; they sold only paper, etc., almanacs, ballads, and a few common school-books. Those who lov\u2019d reading were oblig\u2019d to send for their books from England; the members of the Junto had each a few. We had left the alehouse, where we first met, and hired a room to hold our club in. I propos\u2019d that we should all of us bring our books to that room, where they would not only be ready to consult in our conferences, but become a common benefit, each of us being at liberty to borrow such as he wish\u2019d to read at home. This was accordingly done, and for some time contented us.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">Finding the advantage of this little collection, I propos\u2019d to render the benefit from books more common, by commencing a public subscription library. I drew a sketch of the plan and rules that would be necessary, and got a skilful conveyancer, Mr. Charles Brockden, to put the whole in form of articles of agreement to be subscribed, by which each subscriber engag\u2019d to pay a certain sum down for the first purchase of books, and an annual contribution for increasing them. So few were the readers at that time in Philadelphia, and the majority of us so poor, that I was not able, with great industry; to find more than fifty persons, mostly young tradesmen, willing to pay down for this purpose forty shillings each, and ten shillings per annum. On this little fund we began. The books were imported; the library was opened one day in the week for lending to the subscribers, on their promissory notes to pay double the value if not duly returned. The institution soon manifested its utility, was imitated by other towns, and in other provinces. The libraries were augmented by donations; reading became fashionable; and our people, having no publick amusements to divert their attention from study, became better acquainted with books, and in a few years were observ\u2019d by strangers to be better instructed and more intelligent than people of the same rank generally are in other countries.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">When we were about to sign the above-mentioned articles, which were to be binding upon us, our heirs, etc., for fifty years, Mr. Brockden, the scrivener, said to us, \u201cYou are young men, but it is scarcely probable that any of you will live to see the expiration of the term fix\u2019d in the instrument.\u201d A number of us, however, are yet living; but the instrument was after a few years rendered null by a charter that incorporated and gave perpetuity to the company.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">The objections and reluctances I met with in soliciting the subscriptions, made me soon feel the impropriety of presenting one\u2019s self as the proposer of any useful project, that might be suppos\u2019d to raise one\u2019s reputation in the smallest degree above that of one\u2019s neighbors, when one has need of their assistance to accomplish that project. I therefore put myself as much as I could out of sight, and stated it as a scheme of a number of friends, who had requested me to go about and propose it to such as they thought lovers of reading. In this way my affair went on more smoothly, and I ever after practis\u2019d it on such occasions; and, from my frequent successes, can heartily recommend it. The present little sacrifice of your vanity will afterwards be amply repaid. If it remains a while uncertain to whom the merit belongs, some one more vain than yourself will be encouraged to claim it, and then even envy will be disposed to do you justice by plucking those assumed feathers, and restoring them to their right owner.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">This library afforded me the means of improvement by constant study, for which I set apart an hour or two each day, and thus repair\u2019d in some degree the loss of the learned education my father once intended for me. Reading was the only amusement I allow\u2019d myself. I spent no time in taverns, games, or frolicks of any kind; and my industry in my business continu\u2019d as indefatigable as it was necessary. I was indebted for my printing-house; I had a young family coming on to be educated, and I had to contend with for business two printers, who were established in the place before me. My circumstances, however, grew daily easier. My original habits of frugality continuing, and my father having, among his instructions to me when a boy, frequently repeated a proverb of Solomon, \u201cSeest thou a man diligent in his calling, he shall stand before kings, he shall not stand before mean men,\u201d I from thence considered industry as a means of obtaining wealth and distinction, which encourag\u2019d me, tho\u2019 I did not think that I should ever literally stand before kings, which, however, has since happened; for I have stood before five, and even had the honor of sitting down with one, the King of Denmark, to dinner.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">We have an English proverb that says, \u201cHe that would thrive, must ask his wife.\u201d It was lucky for me that I had one as much dispos\u2019d to industry and frugality as myself. She assisted me cheerfully in my business, folding and stitching pamphlets, tending shop, purchasing old linen rags for the papermakers, etc., etc. We kept no idle servants, our table was plain and simple, our furniture of the cheapest. For instance, my breakfast was a long time bread and milk (no tea), and I ate it out of a twopenny earthen porringer, with a pewter spoon. But mark how luxury will enter families, and make a progress, in spite of principle: being call\u2019d one morning to breakfast, I found it in a China bowl, with a spoon of silver! They had been bought for me without my knowledge by my wife, and had cost her the enormous sum of three-and-twenty shillings, for which she had no other excuse or apology to make, but that she thought her husband deserv\u2019d a silver spoon and China bowl as well as any of his neighbors. This was the first appearance of plate and China in our house, which afterward, in a course of years, as our wealth increas\u2019d, augmented gradually to several hundred pounds in value.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">I had been religiously educated as a Presbyterian; and tho\u2019 some of the dogmas of that persuasion, such as the eternal decrees of God, election, reprobation, etc., appeared to me unintelligible, others doubtful, and I early absented myself from the public assemblies of the sect, Sunday being my studying day, I never was without some religious principles. I never doubted, for instance, the existence of the Deity; that he made the world, and govern\u2019d it by his Providence; that the most acceptable service of God was the doing good to man; that our souls are immortal; and that all crime will be punished, and virtue rewarded, either here or hereafter. These I esteem\u2019d the essentials of every religion; and, being to be found in all the religions we had in our country, I respected them all, tho\u2019 with different degrees of respect, as I found them more or less mix\u2019d with other articles, which, without any tendency to inspire, promote, or confirm morality, serv\u2019d principally to divide us, and make us unfriendly to one another. This respect to all, with an opinion that the worst had some good effects, induc\u2019d me to avoid all discourse that might tend to lessen the good opinion another might have of his own religion; and as our province increas\u2019d in people, and new places of worship were continually wanted, and generally erected by voluntary contributions, my mite for such purpose, whatever might be the sect, was never refused.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">Tho\u2019 I seldom attended any public worship, I had still an opinion of its propriety, and of its utility when rightly conducted, and I regularly paid my annual subscription for the support of the only Presbyterian minister or meeting we had in Philadelphia. He us\u2019d to visit me sometimes as a friend, and admonish me to attend his administrations, and I was now and then prevail\u2019d on to do so, once for five Sundays successively. Had he been in my opinion a good preacher, perhaps I might have continued, notwithstanding the occasion I had for the Sunday\u2019s leisure in my course of study; but his discourses were chiefly either polemic arguments, or explications of the peculiar doctrines of our sect, and were all to me very dry, uninteresting, and unedifying, since not a single moral principle was inculcated or enforc\u2019d, their aim seeming to be rather to make us Presbyterians than good citizens.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">At length he took for his text that verse of the fourth chapter of Philippians, \u201cFinally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, honest, just, pure, lovely, or of good report, if there be any virtue, or any praise, think on these things.\u201d And I imagin\u2019d, in a sermon on such a text, we could not miss of having some morality. But he confin\u2019d himself to five points only, as meant by the apostle, viz.: 1. Keeping holy the Sabbath day. 2. Being diligent in reading the holy Scriptures. 3. Attending duly the publick worship. 4. Partaking of the Sacrament. 5. Paying a due respect to God\u2019s ministers. These might be all good things; but, as they were not the kind of good things that I expected from that text, I despaired of ever meeting with them from any other, was disgusted, and attended his preaching no more. I had some years before compos\u2019d a little Liturgy, or form of prayer, for my own private use (viz., in 1728), entitled, Articles of Belief and Acts of Religion. I return\u2019d to the use of this, and went no more to the public assemblies. My conduct might be blameable, but I leave it, without attempting further to excuse it; my present purpose being to relate facts, and not to make apologies for them.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">It was about this time I conceiv\u2019d the bold and arduous project of arriving at moral perfection. I wish\u2019d to live without committing any fault at any time; I would conquer all that either natural inclination, custom, or company might lead me into. As I knew, or thought I knew, what was right and wrong, I did not see why I might not always do the one and avoid the other. But I soon found I had undertaken a task of more difficulty than I had imagined. While my care was employ\u2019d in guarding against one fault, I was often surprised by another; habit took the advantage of inattention; inclination was sometimes too strong for reason. I concluded, at length, that the mere speculative conviction that it was our interest to be completely virtuous, was not sufficient to prevent our slipping; and that the contrary habits must be broken, and good ones acquired and established, before we can have any dependence on a steady, uniform rectitude of conduct. For this purpose I therefore contrived the following method.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">In the various enumerations of the moral virtues I had met with in my reading, I found the catalogue more or less numerous, as different writers included more or fewer ideas under the same name. Temperance, for example, was by some confined to eating and drinking, while by others it was extended to mean the moderating every other pleasure, appetite, inclination, or passion, bodily or mental, even to our avarice and ambition. I propos\u2019d to myself, for the sake of clearness, to use rather more names, with fewer ideas annex\u2019d to each, than a few names with more ideas; and I included under thirteen names of virtues all that at that time occurr\u2019d to me as necessary or desirable, and annexed to each a short precept, which fully express\u2019d the extent I gave to its meaning.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">These names of virtues, with their precepts, were:<\/p>\n<ol>\n<li>Temperance. Eat not to dullness; drink not to elevation.<\/li>\n<li>Silence. Speak not but what may benefit others or yourself; avoid trifling conversation.<\/li>\n<li>Order. Let all your things have their places; let each part of your business have its time.<\/li>\n<li>Resolution. Resolve to perform what you ought; perform without fail what you resolve.<\/li>\n<li>Frugality. Make no expense but to do good to others or yourself; i.e., waste nothing.<\/li>\n<li>Industry. Lose no time; be always employ\u2019d in something useful; cut off all unnecessary actions.<\/li>\n<li>Sincerity. Use no hurtful deceit; think innocently and justly, and, if you speak, speak accordingly.<\/li>\n<li>Justice. Wrong none by doing injuries, or omitting the benefits that are your duty.<\/li>\n<li>Moderation. Avoid extreams; forbear resenting injuries so much as you think they deserve.<\/li>\n<li>Cleanliness. 84 Tolerate no uncleanliness in body, cloaths, or habitation.<\/li>\n<li>Tranquillity. Be not disturbed at trifles, or at accidents common or unavoidable.<\/li>\n<li>Chastity. Rarely use venery but for health or offspring, never to dulness, weakness, or the injury of your own or another\u2019s peace or reputation.<\/li>\n<li>Humility. Imitate Jesus and Socrates.<\/li>\n<\/ol>\n<p class=\"\">My intention being to acquire the habitude of all these virtues, I judg\u2019d it would be well not to distract my attention by attempting the whole at once, but to fix it on one of them at a time; and, when I should be master of that, then to proceed to another, and so on, till I should have gone thro\u2019 the thirteen; and, as the previous acquisition of some might facilitate the acquisition of certain others, I arrang\u2019d them with that view, as they stand above. Temperance first, as it tends to procure that coolness and clearness of head, which is so necessary where constant vigilance was to be kept up, and guard maintained against the unremitting attraction of ancient habits, and the force of perpetual temptations. This being acquir\u2019d and establish\u2019d, Silence would be more easy; and my desire being to gain knowledge at the same time that I improv\u2019d in virtue, and considering that in conversation it was obtain\u2019d rather by the use of the ears than of the tongue, and therefore wishing to break a habit I was getting into of prattling, punning, and joking, which only made me acceptable to trifling company, I gave Silence the second place. This and the next, Order, I expected would allow me more time for attending to my project and my studies. Resolution, once become habitual, would keep me firm in my endeavors to obtain all the subsequent virtues; Frugality and Industry freeing me from my remaining debt, and producing affluence and independence, would make more easy the practice of Sincerity and Justice, etc., etc. Conceiving then, that, agreeably to the advice of Pythagoras in his Golden Verses, daily examination would be necessary, I contrived the following method for conducting that examination.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">I made a little book, in which I allotted a page for each of the virtues. I rul\u2019d each page with red ink, so as to have seven columns, one for each day of the week, marking each column with a letter for the day. I cross\u2019d these columns with thirteen red lines, marking the beginning of each line with the first letter of one of the virtues, on which line, and in its proper column, I might mark, by a little black spot, every fault I found upon examination to have been committed respecting that virtue upon that day.<\/p>\n<p class=\"mt-align-center\"><img decoding=\"async\" class=\"internal\" src=\"https:\/\/human.libretexts.org\/@api\/deki\/files\/37085\/clipboard_e10fb2cf08b8add8b5f20df91f8c01045.png?revision=1&amp;size=bestfit&amp;width=269&amp;height=436\" alt=\"clipboard_e10fb2cf08b8add8b5f20df91f8c01045.png\" width=\"269px\" height=\"436px\" \/><\/p>\n<p class=\"\">I determined to give a week\u2019s strict attention to each of the virtues successively. Thus, in the first week, my great guard was to avoid every the least offence against Temperance, leaving the other virtues to their ordinary chance, only marking every evening the faults of the day. Thus, if in the first week I could keep my first line, marked T, clear of spots, I suppos\u2019d the habit of that virtue so much strengthen\u2019d, and its opposite weaken\u2019d, that I might venture extending my attention to include the next, and for the following week keep both lines clear of spots. Proceeding thus to the last, I could go thro\u2019 a course compleat in thirteen weeks, and four courses in a year. And like him who, having a garden to weed, does not attempt to eradicate all the bad herbs at once, which would exceed his reach and his strength, but works on one of the beds at a time, and, having accomplish\u2019d the first, proceeds to a second, so I should have, I hoped, the encouraging pleasure of seeing on my pages the progress I made in virtue, by clearing successively my lines of their spots, till in the end, by a number of courses, I should be happy in viewing a clean book, after a thirteen weeks\u2019 daily examination.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">This my little book had for its motto these lines from Addison\u2019s Cato:<\/p>\n<p class=\"mt-indent-1\">\u201cHere will I hold. If there\u2019s a power above us<br \/>\n(And that there is, all nature cries aloud<br \/>\nThro\u2019 all her works), He must delight in virtue;<br \/>\nAnd that which he delights in must be happy.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">Another from Cicero,<\/p>\n<p class=\"mt-indent-1\">\u201cO vit\u00e6 Philosophia dux! O virtutum indagatrix expultrixque vitiorum! Unus<br \/>\ndies, bene et ex pr\u00e6ceptis tuis actus, peccanti immortalitati est anteponendus.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">Another from the Proverbs of Solomon, speaking of wisdom or virtue:<\/p>\n<p class=\"mt-indent-1\">\u201cLength of days is in her right hand, and in her left hand riches and honour.<br \/>\nHer ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace.\u201d iii. 16, 17.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">And conceiving God to be the fountain of wisdom, I thought it right and necessary to solicit his assistance for obtaining it; to this end I formed the following little prayer, which was prefix\u2019d to my tables of examination, for daily use.<\/p>\n<p class=\"mt-indent-1\">\u201cO powerful Goodness! bountiful Father! merciful Guide! Increase in me<br \/>\nthat wisdom which discovers my truest interest. Strengthen my resolutions<br \/>\nto perform what that wisdom dictates. Accept my kind offices to thy other<br \/>\nchildren as the only return in my power for thy continual favors to me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">I used also sometimes a little prayer which I took from Thomson\u2019s Poems, viz.:<\/p>\n<p class=\"mt-indent-1\">\u201cFather of light and life, thou Good Supreme!<br \/>\nO teach me what is good; teach me Thyself!<br \/>\nSave me from folly, vanity, and vice,<br \/>\nFrom every low pursuit; and fill my soul<br \/>\nWith knowledge, conscious peace, and virtue pure;<br \/>\nSacred, substantial, never-fading bliss!\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">The precept of Order requiring that every part of my business should have its allotted time, one page in my little book contain\u2019d the following scheme of employment for the twenty-four hours of a natural day:<\/p>\n<p class=\"mt-align-center\"><img decoding=\"async\" class=\"internal\" src=\"https:\/\/human.libretexts.org\/@api\/deki\/files\/37086\/clipboard_ea7e1ee7cf67ca10d8c69e4f12287c76a.png?revision=1&amp;size=bestfit&amp;width=324&amp;height=486\" alt=\"clipboard_ea7e1ee7cf67ca10d8c69e4f12287c76a.png\" width=\"324px\" height=\"486px\" \/><\/p>\n<p class=\"\">I enter\u2019d upon the execution of this plan for self-examination, and continu\u2019d it with occasional intermissions for some time. I was surpris\u2019d to find myself so much fuller of faults than I had imagined; but I had the satisfaction of seeing them diminish. To avoid the trouble of renewing now and then my little book, which, by scraping out the marks on the paper of old faults to make room for new ones in a new course, became full of holes, I transferr\u2019d my tables and precepts to the ivory leaves of a memorandum book, on which the lines were drawn with red ink, that made a durable stain, and on those lines I mark\u2019d my faults with a black-lead pencil, which marks I could easily wipe out with a wet sponge. After a while I went thro\u2019 one course only in a year, and afterward only one in several years, till at length I omitted them entirely, being employ\u2019d in voyages and business abroad, with a multiplicity of affairs that interfered; but I always carried my little book with me.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">My scheme of ORDER gave me the most trouble; and I found that, tho\u2019 it might be practicable where a man\u2019s business was such as to leave him the disposition of his time, that of a journeyman printer, for instance, it was not possible to be exactly observed by a master, who must mix with the world, and often receive people of business at their own hours. Order, too, with regard to places for things, papers, etc., I found extreamly difficult to acquire. I had not been early accustomed to it, and, having an exceeding good memory, I was not so sensible of the inconvenience attending want of method. This article, therefore, cost me so much painful attention, and my faults in it vexed me so much, and I made so little progress in amendment, and had such frequent relapses, that I was almost ready to give up the attempt, and content myself with a faulty character in that respect, like the man who, in buying an ax of a smith, my neighbour, desired to have the whole of its surface as bright as the edge. The smith consented to grind it bright for him if he would turn the wheel; he turn\u2019d, while the smith press\u2019d the broad face of the ax hard and heavily on the stone, which made the turning of it very fatiguing. The man came every now and then from the wheel to see how the work went on, and at length would take his ax as it was, without farther grinding. \u201cNo,\u201d said the smith, \u201cturn on, turn on; we shall have it bright by-and-by; as yet, it is only speckled.\u201d \u201cYes,\u201d said the man, \u201cbut I think I like a speckled ax best.\u201d And I believe this may have been the case with many, who, having, for want of some such means as I employ\u2019d, found the difficulty of obtaining good and breaking bad habits in other points of vice and virtue, have given up the struggle, and concluded that \u201ca speckled ax was best\u201d; for something, that pretended to be reason, was every now and then suggesting to me that such extream nicety as I exacted of myself might be a kind of foppery in morals, which, if it were known, would make me ridiculous; that a perfect character might be attended with the inconvenience of being envied and hated; and that a benevolent man should allow a few faults in himself, to keep his friends in countenance.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">In truth, I found myself incorrigible with respect to Order; and now I am grown old, and my memory bad, I feel very sensibly the want of it. But, on the whole, tho\u2019 I never arrived at the perfection I had been so ambitious of obtaining, but fell far short of it, yet I was, by the endeavour, a better and a happier man than I otherwise should have been if I had not attempted it; as those who aim at perfect writing by imitating the engraved copies, tho\u2019 they never reach the wish\u2019d-for excellence of those copies, their hand is mended by the endeavor, and is tolerable while it continues fair and legible.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">It may be well my posterity should be informed that to this little artifice, with the blessing of God, their ancestor ow\u2019d the constant felicity of his life, down to his 79th year, in which this is written. What reverses may attend the remainder is in the hand of Providence; but, if they arrive, the reflection on past happiness enjoy\u2019d ought to help his bearing them with more resignation. To Temperance he ascribes his long-continued health, and what is still left to him of a good constitution; to Industry and Frugality, the early easiness of his circumstances and acquisition of his fortune, with all that knowledge that enabled him to be a useful citizen, and obtained for him some degree of reputation among the learned; to Sincerity and Justice, the confidence of his country, and the honorable employs it conferred upon him; and to the joint influence of the whole mass of the virtues, even in the imperfect state he was able to acquire them, all that evenness of temper, and that cheerfulness in conversation, which makes his company still sought for, and agreeable even to his younger acquaintance. I hope, therefore, that some of my descendants may follow the example and reap the benefit.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">It will be remark\u2019d that, tho\u2019 my scheme was not wholly without religion, there was in it no mark of any of the distinguishing tenets of any particular sect. I had purposely avoided them; for, being fully persuaded of the utility and excellency of my method, and that it might be serviceable to people in all religions, and intending some time or other to publish it, I would not have any thing in it that should prejudice any one, of any sect, against it. I purposed writing a little comment on each virtue, in which I would have shown the advantages of possessing it, and the mischiefs attending its opposite vice; and I should have called my book The Art of Virtue, because it would have shown the means and manner of obtaining virtue, which would have distinguished it from the mere exhortation to be good, that does not instruct and indicate the means, but is like the apostle\u2019s man of verbal charity, who only without showing to the naked and hungry how or where they might get clothes or victuals, exhorted them to be fed and clothed.\u2014James ii. 15, 16.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">But it so happened that my intention of writing and publishing this comment was never fulfilled. I did, indeed, from time to time, put down short hints of the sentiments, reasonings, etc., to be made use of in it, some of which I have still by me; but the necessary close attention to private business in the earlier part of my life, and public business since, have occasioned my postponing it; for, it being connected in my mind with a great and extensive project, that required the whole man to execute, and which an unforeseen succession of employs prevented my attending to, it has hitherto remain\u2019d unfinish\u2019d.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">In this piece it was my design to explain and enforce this doctrine, that vicious actions are not hurtful because they are forbidden, but forbidden because they are hurtful, the nature of man alone considered; that it was, therefore, every one\u2019s interest to be virtuous who wish\u2019d to be happy even in this world; and I should, from this circumstance (there being always in the world a number of rich merchants, nobility, states, and princes, who have need of honest instruments for the management of their affairs, and such being so rare), have endeavored to convince young persons that no qualities were so likely to make a poor man\u2019s fortune as those of probity and integrity.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">My list of virtues contain\u2019d at first but twelve; but a Quaker friend having kindly informed me that I was generally thought proud; that my pride show\u2019d itself frequently in conversation; that I was not content with being in the right when discussing any point, but was overbearing, and rather insolent, of which he convinc\u2019d me by mentioning several instances; I determined endeavouring to cure myself, if I could, of this vice or folly among the rest, and I added Humility to my list, giving an extensive meaning to the word.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">I cannot boast of much success in acquiring the reality of this virtue, but I had a good deal with regard to the appearance of it. I made it a rule to forbear all direct contradiction to the sentiments of others, and all positive assertion of my own. I even forbid myself, agreeably to the old laws of our Junto, the use of every word or expression in the language that imported a fix\u2019d opinion, such as certainly, undoubtedly, etc., and I adopted, instead of them, I conceive, I apprehend, or I imagine a thing to be so or so; or it so appears to me at present. When another asserted something that I thought an error, I deny\u2019d myself the pleasure of contradicting him abruptly, and of showing immediately some absurdity in his proposition; and in answering I began by observing that in certain cases or circumstances his opinion would be right, but in the present case there appear\u2019d or seem\u2019d to me some difference, etc. I soon found the advantage of this change in my manner; the conversations I engag\u2019d in went on more pleasantly. The modest way in which I propos\u2019d my opinions procur\u2019d them a readier reception and less contradiction; I had less mortification when I was found to be in the wrong, and I more easily prevail\u2019d with others to give up their mistakes and join with me when I happened to be in the right.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">And this mode, which I at first put on with some violence to natural inclination, became at length so easy, and so habitual to me, that perhaps for these fifty years past no one has ever heard a dogmatical expression escape me. And to this habit (after my character of integrity) I think it principally owing that I had early so much weight with my fellow-citizens when I proposed new institutions, or alterations in the old, and so much influence in public councils when I became a member; for I was but a bad speaker, never eloquent, subject to much hesitation in my choice of words, hardly correct in language, and yet I generally carried my points.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">In reality, there is, perhaps, no one of our natural passions so hard to subdue as pride. Disguise it, struggle with it, beat it down, stifle it, mortify it as much as one pleases, it is still alive, and will every now and then peep out and show itself; you will see it, perhaps, often in this history; for, even if I could conceive that I had compleatly overcome it, I should probably be proud of my humility.<\/p>\n<p class=\"\">[Thus far written at Passy, 1784.]<\/p>\n<div class=\"textbox exercises\">\n<h3>historical background<\/h3>\n<p><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignright wp-image-980\" src=\"https:\/\/s3-us-west-2.amazonaws.com\/courses-images\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/5583\/2021\/02\/22160932\/143-243x300.jpg\" alt=\"Benjamin Franklin\" width=\"123\" height=\"152\" \/><\/p>\n<p>You may be interested in videos about Franklin from Kahn Academy&#8217;s <a href=\"https:\/\/www.khanacademy.org\/humanities\/us-history\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">U.S. History<\/a> course. Here are two that provide context for the Autobiography, although there are many others that talk about different aspects of Franklin&#8217;s life.<\/p>\n<ul>\n<li><a href=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/watch?v=e23FYcmAG5k\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">An Introduction to Benjamin Franklin<\/a><\/li>\n<li><a href=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/watch?v=vbAbCp9elFU\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Takeaways from Benjamin Franklin&#8217;s Life<\/a><\/li>\n<\/ul>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"textbox key-takeaways\">\n<h3>questions to Consider<\/h3>\n<ul>\n<li>In The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin, what literary works does Franklin cite as important to the shaping of his mind? What, if anything, do these works have in common? What power does Franklin attribute to the written word?<\/li>\n<li>What human behaviors and qualities does Franklin list in his virtues and precepts? What, if anything, do they have in common? How do they compare to Puritan virtues? How do they contrast?<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\t\t\t <section class=\"citations-section\" role=\"contentinfo\">\n\t\t\t <h3>Candela Citations<\/h3>\n\t\t\t\t\t <div>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t <div id=\"citation-list-276\">\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t <div class=\"licensing\"><div class=\"license-attribution-dropdown-subheading\">CC licensed content, Original<\/div><ul class=\"citation-list\"><li>Benjamin Franklin, Autobiography. <strong>Authored by<\/strong>: Susan Oaks. <strong>Project<\/strong>: American Literature 1600-1865. <strong>License<\/strong>: <em><a target=\"_blank\" rel=\"license\" href=\"https:\/\/creativecommons.org\/licenses\/by-sa\/4.0\/\">CC BY-SA: Attribution-ShareAlike<\/a><\/em><\/li><\/ul><div class=\"license-attribution-dropdown-subheading\">CC licensed content, Shared previously<\/div><ul class=\"citation-list\"><li>Introduction text and image from Becoming America. <strong>Authored by<\/strong>: Wendy Kurant. <strong>Provided by<\/strong>: University of North Georgia. <strong>Located at<\/strong>: <a target=\"_blank\" href=\"https:\/\/human.libretexts.org\/Bookshelves\/Literature_and_Literacy\/Book%3A_Becoming_America_-_An_Exploration_of_American_Literature_from_Precolonial_to_Post-Revolution\/03%3A_Revolutionary_and_Early_National_Period_Literature\/3.03%3A_Benjamin_Franklin\">https:\/\/human.libretexts.org\/Bookshelves\/Literature_and_Literacy\/Book%3A_Becoming_America_-_An_Exploration_of_American_Literature_from_Precolonial_to_Post-Revolution\/03%3A_Revolutionary_and_Early_National_Period_Literature\/3.03%3A_Benjamin_Franklin<\/a>. <strong>Project<\/strong>: Becoming America: An Exploration of American Literature from Precolonial to Post-Revolution, sourced from GALILEO Open Learning Materials. <strong>License<\/strong>: <em><a target=\"_blank\" rel=\"license\" href=\"https:\/\/creativecommons.org\/licenses\/by-sa\/4.0\/\">CC BY-SA: Attribution-ShareAlike<\/a><\/em><\/li><li>Benjamin Franklin Autobiography Excerpt, from Becoming America. <strong>Authored by<\/strong>: Wendy Kurant. <strong>Provided by<\/strong>: University of North Georgia. <strong>Located at<\/strong>: <a target=\"_blank\" href=\"https:\/\/human.libretexts.org\/Bookshelves\/Literature_and_Literacy\/Book%3A_Becoming_America_-_An_Exploration_of_American_Literature_from_Precolonial_to_Post-Revolution\/03%3A_Revolutionary_and_Early_National_Period_Literature\/3.03%3A_Benjamin_Franklin\/3.3.04%3A_The_Autobiography_of_Benjamin_Franklin\">https:\/\/human.libretexts.org\/Bookshelves\/Literature_and_Literacy\/Book%3A_Becoming_America_-_An_Exploration_of_American_Literature_from_Precolonial_to_Post-Revolution\/03%3A_Revolutionary_and_Early_National_Period_Literature\/3.03%3A_Benjamin_Franklin\/3.3.04%3A_The_Autobiography_of_Benjamin_Franklin<\/a>. <strong>Project<\/strong>: Becoming America - An Exploration of American Literature from Precolonial to Post-Revolution, sourced from GALILEO Open Learning Materials. <strong>License<\/strong>: <em><a target=\"_blank\" rel=\"license\" href=\"https:\/\/creativecommons.org\/licenses\/by-sa\/4.0\/\">CC BY-SA: Attribution-ShareAlike<\/a><\/em>. <strong>License Terms<\/strong>: The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin is public domain, Project Gutenberg, https:\/\/www.gutenberg.org\/files\/148\/148.txt<\/li><li>image of candle with lit wick. <strong>Authored by<\/strong>: Thomas Wolter. <strong>Provided by<\/strong>: Pixabay. <strong>Located at<\/strong>: <a target=\"_blank\" href=\"https:\/\/pixabay.com\/photos\/candle-wick-light-flame-3872777\/\">https:\/\/pixabay.com\/photos\/candle-wick-light-flame-3872777\/<\/a>. <strong>License<\/strong>: <em><a target=\"_blank\" rel=\"license\" href=\"https:\/\/creativecommons.org\/about\/cc0\">CC0: No Rights Reserved<\/a><\/em><\/li><li>image of old printing press. <strong>Authored by<\/strong>: Ray Holloway. <strong>Provided by<\/strong>: Pixabay. <strong>Located at<\/strong>: <a target=\"_blank\" href=\"https:\/\/pixabay.com\/photos\/old-time-printing-press-vintage-950445\/\">https:\/\/pixabay.com\/photos\/old-time-printing-press-vintage-950445\/<\/a>. <strong>License<\/strong>: <em><a target=\"_blank\" rel=\"license\" href=\"https:\/\/creativecommons.org\/about\/cc0\">CC0: No Rights Reserved<\/a><\/em><\/li><li>image of type set and ready for printing. <strong>Authored by<\/strong>: Mari77. <strong>Provided by<\/strong>: Pixabay. <strong>Located at<\/strong>: <a target=\"_blank\" href=\"https:\/\/pixabay.com\/photos\/old-print-press-press-printing-press-1520124\/\">https:\/\/pixabay.com\/photos\/old-print-press-press-printing-press-1520124\/<\/a>. <strong>License<\/strong>: <em><a target=\"_blank\" rel=\"license\" href=\"https:\/\/creativecommons.org\/about\/cc0\">CC0: No Rights Reserved<\/a><\/em><\/li><li>Questions adapted from Becoming America. <strong>Authored by<\/strong>: Wendy Kurant. <strong>Provided by<\/strong>: University of North Georgia. <strong>Located at<\/strong>: <a target=\"_blank\" href=\"https:\/\/human.libretexts.org\/Bookshelves\/Literature_and_Literacy\/Book%3A_Becoming_America_-_An_Exploration_of_American_Literature_from_Precolonial_to_Post-Revolution\/03%3A_Revolutionary_and_Early_National_Period_Literature\/3.03%3A_Benjamin_Franklin\/3.3.05%3A_Reading_and_Review_Questions\">https:\/\/human.libretexts.org\/Bookshelves\/Literature_and_Literacy\/Book%3A_Becoming_America_-_An_Exploration_of_American_Literature_from_Precolonial_to_Post-Revolution\/03%3A_Revolutionary_and_Early_National_Period_Literature\/3.03%3A_Benjamin_Franklin\/3.3.05%3A_Reading_and_Review_Questions<\/a>. <strong>Project<\/strong>: Becoming America: An Exploration of American Literature from Precolonial to Post-Revolution, sourced from GALILEO Open Learning Materials. <strong>License<\/strong>: <em><a target=\"_blank\" rel=\"license\" href=\"https:\/\/creativecommons.org\/licenses\/by-sa\/4.0\/\">CC BY-SA: Attribution-ShareAlike<\/a><\/em><\/li><li>image of Benjamin Franklin reading. <strong>Authored by<\/strong>: WikiImages from Pixabay. <strong>Located at<\/strong>: <a target=\"_blank\" href=\"https:\/\/pixabay.com\/photos\/benjamin-franklin-1767-writer-62846\/\">https:\/\/pixabay.com\/photos\/benjamin-franklin-1767-writer-62846\/<\/a>. <strong>License<\/strong>: <em><a target=\"_blank\" rel=\"license\" href=\"https:\/\/creativecommons.org\/about\/cc0\">CC0: No Rights Reserved<\/a><\/em><\/li><\/ul><\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t <\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t <\/div>\n\t\t\t <\/section>","protected":false},"author":81366,"menu_order":2,"template":"","meta":{"_candela_citation":"[{\"type\":\"cc\",\"description\":\"Introduction text and image from Becoming America\",\"author\":\"Wendy Kurant\",\"organization\":\"University of North Georgia\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/human.libretexts.org\/Bookshelves\/Literature_and_Literacy\/Book%3A_Becoming_America_-_An_Exploration_of_American_Literature_from_Precolonial_to_Post-Revolution\/03%3A_Revolutionary_and_Early_National_Period_Literature\/3.03%3A_Benjamin_Franklin\",\"project\":\"Becoming America: An Exploration of American Literature from Precolonial to Post-Revolution, sourced from GALILEO Open Learning Materials\",\"license\":\"cc-by-sa\",\"license_terms\":\"\"},{\"type\":\"cc\",\"description\":\"Benjamin Franklin Autobiography Excerpt, from Becoming America\",\"author\":\"Wendy Kurant\",\"organization\":\"University of North Georgia\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/human.libretexts.org\/Bookshelves\/Literature_and_Literacy\/Book%3A_Becoming_America_-_An_Exploration_of_American_Literature_from_Precolonial_to_Post-Revolution\/03%3A_Revolutionary_and_Early_National_Period_Literature\/3.03%3A_Benjamin_Franklin\/3.3.04%3A_The_Autobiography_of_Benjamin_Franklin\",\"project\":\"Becoming America - 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