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I
LIFE
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BENJAMIN FRANKLIN,
THE NEW YORK
: PUBLIC LIBRARY.
A8T0R, LENOX AND
TILDEN FOUNDATIONS.
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THE LIFE
OK
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN,
WRITIEN BY HIMSELF.
NOW FIRST EDITED FROM ORIGINAL MANUSCRIPTS
AND FR(3m his PRINTED CORRESPONDENCE
AND OTHER WRII INGS,
BY
JOHN BIGELOW.
" Plurimae consentiunt gentes populi primarium fuisse virum."
Cicero de Senectute {Catonis), ^ 6i.
THIRD EDITION, RF. VISED AND CORRECTED.
ILLUST-RATKr).
VOL. I.
PHILADELPHIA:
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY.
LONDON: lo HENRIETTA ST., COVENT GARDEN.
1893.
THE NEW YORK
PUBLIC LIBRARY
J^A J'' Jt- .' v3 3
A8T0R, LENOX AND
TILDEN FOUNDATIONS.
1899.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1S74, by
JOHN BIGELOW,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.
Copyright, 1893, by John Bigelow.
«•
Printed by J. B. Lippincott Company, Philadelphia.
PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION.
In responding to the call of my publishers for a new
edition of this work, I esteem myself fortunate in being
able to avail myself of the very considerable and important
increment which has been made to our stock of Franklinian
literature since the appearance of the previous editions.
Of these recent acquisitions, the Stevens collection, pur-
chased for the State Department in 1881, ranks first in
importance. It embraced all the papers left by Franklin
in his will to his grandson, William Temple Franklin,
which, because of their number and bulk, could not profit-
ably be used by the laltS'-'in Mis edition "of -^ his grand-
father's works, published in 181 7.
The letters of Franklin to his 'early and faithful friend,
William Strahan, the parliamentary printers of those days,
have recently come into the markef, :Jnd iiave contributed
much new and interesting information about Franklin's
business career before he became engrossed with public
affairs. These letters help much to explain his early, ex-
traordinary, and enduring influence with his countrymen.
From these and other less copious sources I have been
able to glean between four and five hundred letters and
documents, from which I have endeavored to extract every-
I
2 PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION.
thing of a strictly biographical nature with which to enrich
this edition. Among them are some, the peculiar interest
of which will be manifest from their titles. Of such are, —
'' Preparatory notes and hints for writing a paper con-
cerning what is called catching cold."
"Notes on the condition of his health from 1778 to
1780."
" Personal expense accounts with Congress during the
first two years of his official residence in Paris."
"A fragment of his diary for 1780."
" An elaborate account of the first successful balloon ex-
periment ever made, addressed to Sir Joseph Banks, then
president of the Royal Society of London."
A letter on "The Slave Trade," written only twenty-
four days before his death, in which Franklin gives a speech
purporting to have been delivered in the Divan of Algiers
in 1687, in opposition to the petition of a sect called
Erika, for the abolition of Piracy and Slavery. This pre-
tended speech was a parody on one which had been then
recently delivered by a Mr. Jackson, of Georgia, whose
arguments^Jnt. favor 'yif n-egra slaVei'^y were here urged with
equal force ' to justify the enslaving and plundering of
Europeans. \ \ \ ' < ? ^ V'\ f
None of these papers' saye the last, which was printed
anonymously -in' ihe'/ii^^i^<^^ Gazette of March 25, 1790,
appear to have ever been consulted by any previous biog-
rapher of Franklin.
In this edition will also be found several interesting illus-
trations, which have never appeared in any previous biog-
raphy of Franklin.
Among them is a portrait of Franklin, engraved from the
Duplessis portrait of 1 778 ; a sketch, made by Victor Hugo,
PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION. 3
of the house of M. Le Ray de Chaumont, at Passy, which
Franklin occupied, rent free, during his entire sojourn in
France, accompanied by the copy of an autograph letter
of Victor Hugo, setting forth the circumstances under
which the sketch came to be made ; a portrait of M. de
Chaumont, and a view of the Chateau de Chaumont, his
country home, where the clay was found from which the
first and now rare and famous medallion of Franklin was
made, and which contributed to make his face as famous as
the moon in Paris, "So that," as he wrote in a letter to
his daughter, " he durst not do anything that would oblige
him to run away, as his phiz would discover him wherever
he should venture to show it."
Besides a careful revision of these pages, I have en-
deavored faithfully to profit by the criticisms of the press
and by the intelligent suggestions of private correspond-
ents, in searching out and correcting every error which
escaped my attention in previous editions.
I trust that I have succeeded in making the story of our
most illustrious countryman less unworthy of the favor with
which it has been received hitherto by the public.
John Bigelow.
Highland Falls on the Hudson,
June 30, 1892.
PREFACE.
The memoirs of his own life, which Dr. Franklin
began but never finished, terminated with his arrival
in England, in 1757, as agent of the Colony of Penn-
sylvania. He was then fifty-one years of age, and just
entering upon that part of his public career in which
his marvellous talents appear to the greatest advantage.
From this time until 1785 he resided abroad, as agent
of the colonies or as minister plenipotentiary of the
United States ; his two brief visits to his native land,
in 1762 and in 1775, scarcely constituting an interrup-
tion of his protracted foreign service.
During this long period of twenty-eight years, he
was, of course, in constant correspondence, officially,
with the governments he represented, and unofficially
with prominent public men, and with his family and
friends, both at home and abroad.
During the five years that elapsed between his final
return from Europe, in 1785, and his death, he naturally
maintained an active correspondence with his numerous
6 PREFACE.
friends in the Old World, among whom he had spent
the most useful and perhaps the happiest years of his
life.
To this protracted expatriation we owe the fact that
there is scarcely an important incident of Franklin's
life which is not described by himself in his memoirs,
or in his correspondence; and it is to this vast treasury
of sterling English, which seems to have been almost
miraculously preserved from incalculable perils by sea
and by land, that the legion of his biographers have
been indebted for whatever has most contributed to
render their works attractive.
I am not aware that any other eminent man has left
so complete a record of his own life. The part of it
which, from the nature of things, could not be pre-
served in correspondence — his youth and early man-
hood ; his years of discipline and preparation — has
been made as familiar as household words to at least
three generations, in those imperishable pages which,
in the full maturity of his faculties and experience, he
prepared at the special instance of his friends Le
Veillard, Rochefoucault, and Vaughan. From the
period when that fragment closes until his death, we
have a continuous, I might almost say daily record
of his life, his labors, his anxieties, and his triumphs,
from his own pen, and written when all the incidents
and emotions they awakened were most fresh and dis-
tinct in his mind.
PREFACE. 7
If I may judge by the unexampled popularity and
influence of his memoirs of the early part of his life,
I am not mistaken in supposing that the world will
be more interested in reading his own account of
those more eventful years which followed, than in
what any other person has said or can say about them.
However we may prize the judgments of discrimi-
nating biographers of Franklin, their interest must
always be subordinate to that which we feel in his
own; and the pleasure, be it never so great, which we
experience in reading other versions of the incidents
of his varied and picturesque career only increases
our curiosity to read the account which he gave of
them at the time, to his government and friends, in
his own pure, limpid, and sparkling English.
It is under the impulse of such convictions that the
work which is now submitted to the public has been
prepared. I have aimed to condense Franklin's own
memorials of his entire life, hitherto scattered through
many bulky volumes and yet more bulky manuscript
collections, into a single compact work, and to give
them the convenient order and attractiveness of a con-
tinuous narrative. To this end I have taken from his
writings and correspondence whatever was autobio-
graphical, and presented it in a strictly chronological
oi Jer. I have not attempted to give all his letters, nor
more of any letter or other document than furthered
the central and controlling purpose of the work, — to
8 PREFACE.
tell the Franklin story fully and without tediousness or
vain repetitions.
Like all the modern biographers of Franklin, I have
depended mainly upon the precious collection of his
writings and correspondence, published by Mr. Sparks
in 1 836-1 840. I was fortunate enough, a few years
since, to obtain some valuable details of his later
days, in a collection of his letters addressed to M. Le
Veillard, an account of which, and of the original
manuscript from which the autobiography, down to
1757, was printed,* will be found in the history
which immediately follows of the "fortunes and
misfortunes" of that unique autograph.
Franklin's narrative, as I have arranged it, is at once
so full and consecutive that there has been small occa-
sion for editorial interference ; but whenever an allusion
is made that might not be intelligible to the general
reader, or a stitch is dropped in the web of the nar-
rative, I have endeavoured to supply what was lacking
in foot-notes, leaving the Franklin text entirely un-
broken — a continuous diary — up to the later stages
of his last illness.
To the obvious objection that the material for this
biography was already mostly in print, I answer that
the like objection might be made with equal propriety
* This manuscript was first printed in 1868. See " Autobiography of
Benjamin Franklin, edited from his Manuscript, with Notes and an Introduc-
tion, by John Bigelow." Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott & Co., 1868.
PREFACE. g
to quite the best biography of Franklin which has yet
appeared. I refer, of course, to Mr. Parton's.
In the second place, the collection of Franklin's
writings by Mr. Sparks has been many years out of
print, and has become the exclusive property of the
few who have the taste and the ability to own very
rare and costly books.
In the third place, that work was always too volumi-
nous and expensive for popular circulation. There
probably were never more than five thousand copies
printed, if so many ; which were absorbed more than
thirty years ago. It is quite safe to say that, of the
forty millions of the present generation of Americans,
not one in a thousand has ever opened a copy of the
Sparks collection.
And, finally, the autobiographical portions of Frank-
Im's writings are scattered through ten bulky volumes,
to be mastered only by a perusal of the whole. It is
unnecessary to say that, in these days of abundant if
inferior reading, very few of those who are fortunate
enough to possess these volumes have the leisure, or
perhaps the inclination, to purchase a familiarity with
Franklin's life at so high a price. Hence it happens
that the bulk of Franklin's letters, which constitute as
fine a body of English prose as was produced in the
last century, is as if it had never been printed, to more
than ninety per cent, of the present generation of his
countrymen, not to speak of the reading world beyond
lO
PREFACE.
the Atlantic, where he still enjoys a fame and respect
never accorded to any other American.
A nation has no possessions so valuable as its great
men, living or dead ; for they inspire it with noble im-
pulses to noble achievements. When such possessions
cease to be estimated by us at their proper value, or
to awaken the enthusiasm of the young and the pride
of the mature of a nation, we may be sure that we
are yielding to a lower grade of impulses and are de-
clining in power and influence. The cock in the fable
preferred the grain of corn to the guinea, because he
was a cock, and did not know that with the guinea he
could have bought a year's supply of corn. When we
become indifferent to the fame and the teachings of
those who have headed the procession of civilizing
influences in their day, we commit the folly of the
cock, without the cock's excuse. It was when the
trophies of Miltiades kept Themistocles from sleeping
that Greece was in her glory.
I do not see, and I hope I may never see, any evi-
dence of this kind of degeneracy in our country. It is
certainly true that Franklin is relatively less read now
than earlier in this century, and, as a natural conse-
quence, the proportion of young men who order their
daily life and conversation in accordance with his pre-
cepts and example, in the main singularly wise and
commendable, is diminished ; but that, I would fain
believe, is due rather to the comparative inaccessibility
rKEFACE. II
of his more practical writings than to any change of
taste, or to any decline of esteem for their author.
Mr. Sparks performed a very useful work in collect-
ing and placing beyond the possibilities of loss or
destruction the great mass of Franklin's writings, but
it may be doubted whether his publication has not thus
far rather tended to diminish than to cultivate a popular
acquaintance with them, by discouraging the publica-
tion of compendious selections adapted to the different
tastes and means of the numerous varieties of readers
he addressed. To assist in restoring to Franklin's
writings and teachings their proper influence among
us — and it was never more needed perhaps than at
this moment — is the primary purpose of this un-
ambitious work, in which I have tried to condense
everything he left behind him that any one not pur-
suing special investigations now cares to read about
the most eminent journalist, philosopher, diplomatist,
and statesman* of his time. Few who have written
* Franklin's wonderful achievements in other directions seem to have
blinded the public, as by an excess of light, to his merits as a statesman.
Bryant, than whom it would be difficult to name a higher living au-
thority upon any subject on which he offers an opinion, has been the first,
I believe, of our public oracles fitly to recognize this additional title of
Franklin to our admiration and gratitude. In a recent discourse before
the printers of New York, at their celebration of the one-hundred-and
sixty-eighth anniversary of the birthday of Franklin, he said:
" The illustrious printer and jounialist whose birth we this evening com-
memorate is often spoken of with praise as an acute observer of nature and
of men, as a philosopher, as an inventor, as an able negotiator, and as a
12 PREFACE.
SO much, have written so little not worth reading as
Franklin ; and, while it might be claimed that nothing
came from his pen that did not bear upon it some trace
of a master's hand, I hope it will not be tliought
presumption in me to say that a reader may come as
completely under his influence, and enter as fully into
the light of his capacious understanding, by the perusal
of portions of his writings as by the perusal of all.
It is but justice to myself to say, in conclusion, that
these volumes are not intended to displace or to
replace any other of the many biographies of Frank-
statesman. In this latter respect, however, he has not received all the
praise which is his due. For he saw, as it seems to me, further into
the true province and office of a free Government, and the duties of
its legislators, than any man of his time. He saw and pointed out the
folly of governing too much. He saw that it is not the business of a
Government to do what can possibly be done by individuals. He saw that
what the Government had to do was to restrain its citizens from invading
each other's rights, and compel them to respect each other's freedom. He
therefore condemned the Com laws — the laws against the importation of
grain — a hundred years before the people of Great Britain became convinced
of their folly and repealed them. He held also that it was not the policy
uf a State to put any limitations on paper credit — in other words, he was for
free banking, believing that the intermeddling of the Government with that
branch of commercial business could only lead to mischief. Franklin saw
also the wisdom and humanity of mitigating the calamities of war by allow-
ing trading-vessels to pass and repass unmolested on the high seas in time
of war, and before he returned from Europe in 1785 he negotiated a treaty
with Prussia, which contained an article against privateering. Thus he
anticipated by more than half a century the proposition which our Govern-
ment since made to Great Britain."
PREFACE.
13
lin with which our literature has been enriched.
What any illustrious man may have said of himself
should only inflame our curiosity to know what
others have said of him. In giving for the first time
in a consecutive story Franklin's own account of his
singularly useful life, I indulge the hope of increasing
rather than diminishing the curiosity of my readers to
know how he impresses those who make his writings
and career a subject of special investigation.
The Squirrels, February 22, 1874.
CONTENTS OF VOLUME I.
PAGB
Preface 5-^3
Historical Sketch of the Fortunes and Misfortunes of the Autograph
MS. of Franklin's Memoirs of his Own Life .... 19-76
PART I.
Franklin's Outline of the Topics of his Autobiography . . . 77-80
Autobiography of Franklin from his Birth to his Arrival in England as
Agent of the Colony of Pennsylvania (1706-1757) . . . 81-372
PART II.
Continuation ok the Autobiography from Franklin's Ar-
rival IN England as Agent of the Colony of Pennsyl-
vania, IN June, 1757, until the Close of his Mission there
AND Return to Philadelphia, in 1775.
CHAPTER I.
Disciplines James Read — Enters his son William a Student of Law
in London — Settles one of his Nephews in Antigua and another in
Connecticut — Protracted Illness in London — Removal of Gov-
ernor Denny — Countermining the Proprietors — Historical Review,
etc., of Pennsylvania — Tour through England and Scotland — Cam-
bridge University — Visits the Home of his Ancestors — Counsels the
Annexation of Canada to the British Empire— Portrait of William
»5
1 6 CONTENTS OF VOLUME I.
PAGE
Penn — The "Art of Virlue" — Karnes's " Elements of Criticism" —
Directions for a Young Lady's Reading — Expensiveness of English
Wives — Hume's " Jealousy of Commerce" — Baskerville's Printing-
Types — Property of the Penn Family — Death of his Mother-in law —
Lightning Conductors (1748-1762) 375-433
CHAPTER IL
His Reception in America — His Son's Marriage, and Appointment as
Governor of New Jersey — Tour through the Colonies as Postmaster-
General — Insurrection of the Indians — Drafts a Militia Bill — Its Re-
jection by the Governor — Drafts a Petition to the Throne for a Change
of Governor — Is defeated for the Assembly — Sent to England again
as Agent of the Colony of Pennsylvania — Parting Advice to his
Daughter (1762-1764) — Connecticut Religion .... 434-448
CHAPTER III.
Jealousy of English Manufacturers — Origin of the Stamp Act — Opposi-
tion of Franklin — Effect of its Passage in America — Names a Stamp
Distributor — Unpleasant Consequences — Correspondence with Dean
Tucker (1764-1766) 449-466
CHAPTER IV.
Franklin's Examination before the House of Commons (1766) . 467-510
CHAPTER V.
Franklin sends his Wife a New Dress on the Repeal of the Stamp Act
— New Disputes with the Mother Country — Colonies required to pro-
vide for Soldiers — Lord Chatham — Marriage of Sally FrankUn — Ex-
periment of making Paper Money not a Legal Tender — Advances
of the French Ambassador to Franklin — Vis.ts the Continent — First
Impressions of France and Germany {1766-1767) . . . 511-545
CHAPTER VI,
I'he Walpole Grant again — Change of Ministry— Hillsborough named
Secretary of State for America — Franklin edits "The Farmers
Letters" — Particulars of his Election to the Royal Society — Powers
of Parliament over the Colonies defined — Corruption at Elections —
Dissolution of Parliament (1767-1768) 54^-570
CONTENTS OF VOLUME I. ly
APPENDIX.
PAGB
No. I. Preface to Memoirs of the Life and Writings of Benjamin
Franklin, by William Temple Franklin 573-577
No. 2. Preface to " Correspondance inedite, etc., de B. Franklin," by
M. Charles Male ... ..... 577-579
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGB
Portrait OF Benjamin Franklin, 1783. Vol. I. Frontispiece.
Portrait of James Logan. Vol. I. . , . facing 283
Dr. John Fothergill. Vol. I " 365 a
William Strahan, Esq. Vol. I " 375 a
Thomas Penn. Vol. I " 422
DoNATiEN Le Ray de Chaumont. Vol. II. . Frontispiece.
Victor Hugo's Drawing of Franklin's Home at
Passy. Vol. II 383
Victor Hugo's Letter. Vol. II facing 383
" Chateau de Chaumont." (The Famous Clay Medallion
of Franklin was made of Clay from this Estate.)
Vol, II. ....... . facing 480
Benjamin Franklin, 1778. Vol. III. . . Frontispiece.
I 1 i
HISTORICAL SKETCH
OF THE
FORTUNES AND MISFORTUNES OF THE AUTOGRAPH
MANUSCRIPT
OF
FRANKLIN'S MEMOIRS OF HIS OWN LIFE!
IT is well known that Franklin prepared so much of
the celebrated Memoirs of his life as was originally-
intended for publication, mainly at the solicitation of one
of his most cherished friends in France — M. le Veillard,
then Mayor of Passy. Towards the close of the year
1789 he presented to this gentleman a copy of all this
sketch that was then finished. At the Doctor's death,f his
papers, including the original of the manuscript, passed
into the hands of one of his grandsons, William Temple
Franklin, who undertook to prepare an edition of the
* Revised from Bigelow's Autobiography of Franklin, Lippincott, 1868.
t Benjamin Franklin died on the 17th of April, 1790, aged eighty-
four years and three months.
19
20
life and writings of his grandfather for a publishing house
m London.
For the greater convenience of the printer in the pre-
paration of this edition — so goes the tradition in the Le
Veillard family — William Temple Franklin exchanged
tlie original autograph with Mrs. le Veillard, then a
widow, for her copy of the Memoirs ; and thus the auto-
graph passed out of the Fianklin family.
At the death of the widow le Veillard this manuscript
passed to her daughter; and at her death, in 1834, it be-
came the property of her cousin, M. de Senarmont,
whose grandson, M. P. de Senarmont, transferred it to
me on the 26th of January, 1867, with several other
memorials of Franklin which had descended to him with
the manuscript. Among the latter were the famous pastel
portrait of Franklin by Duplessis which he presented
to M. le Veillard ; a number of letters to M. le Veil-
lard from Dr. Franklin and from his grandsons, William
Temple Franklin and Benjamin Franklin Bache ; to-
gether with a minute outline of the topics of his Me-
moirs, brought down to the termination of his mission to
France.
I availed myself of my earliest leisure to subject the
Memoirs to a careful collation with the edition which
appeared in London iniSiy, and which was the first and
only edition that ever purported to have been printed
from the manuscript. The results of this collation re-
vealed the curious fact that more than twelve hundred
separate and distinct changes had been made in the text,
and, what is more remarkable, that the last eight pages
of the manuscript, which are second in value to no other
eight pages of the work, were omitted entirely.
21
Many of these changes are mere modernizations of
style ; such as would measure some of the modifications
which English prose had undergone between the days of
Goldsmith and Southey. Some, Franklin might have
approved of; others he might have tolerated; but it i?
safe to presume that very many he would have rejected
without ceremony.
A few specimens taken from the first chapter will show
the general character of these changes.
It is a curious fact that the very first words of tht.
edition of 1S17 are interpolations. It commences :
"To William Franklin, Governor of New Jersey.
"Dear Son, &c."
The autograph commences with "Dear Son," naming
no person.
Though William was the Doctor's only surviving son,
and in 177^5 when this was commenced, was also Gov-
ernor of New Jersey, it is very unlikely that the Doctor
would have given his son any titles in addressing him a
communication of this domestic and confidential charac-
ter. This improbability is increased by the circumstance
that at the time this manuscript was revised and copied to
be sent to his friend Le Veillard, William Franklin not
only was not Governor of New Jersey, but was not living
upon terms even of friendly correspondence with his
father. The fact that the French version commences
with " Mon cher fils," omitting the name and title, leaves
no doubt that the titles were added by the editor in the
edition of 1S17.
22
(From the Edition ^1817,/. i.*)
Imagining it may be equally
agreeable to you to learn the cir-
cumstances of my life, many of
which you are unacquainted with,
and expecting the enjoyment of a
few weeks' uninterrupted leisure, I
sit down to write them. Besides,
there are some other inducements
that excite me to this undertaking.
From the poverty and obscurity in
which I was bom, arid in which I
passed my earliest years, I have
raised myself to a state of affluence
and some degree of celebrity in the
world. As constant good fortune has
accompanied me evett to an advanced
period of life, my posterity will per-
haps be desirous of learning the
meafis which I employed, and which,
thanks to Providence, so well suc-
ceeded with me. They may also
deem them fit to be imitated, should
any of thetnfind themselves in simi-
lar circumstatues.
(From the Edition of 1817, /. 4.)
My grandfather Thomas, who
was bom 1598, lived at Ecton till
he was too old to continue his busi-
ness, when he retired to Banbury
in Oxfordshire to the house of his
son John with whom my father
served an apprenticeship. There
my uncle died and lies buried.
(From the Autograph, p. i.)
Imagining it may be equally
agreeable to you to know the cir-
cumstances of my life, many of
which you are yet unacquainted
with, and expecting a 7oeeFs un-
interrupted leisure in my present
country retirement, I sit down to
write them for you.
To which I have besides some
other inducements. Having emerged
from the poverty and obscurity in
which I was bom and bred to a
state of aflluence and some de-
gree of reputation in the world,
and having gone so far through life
with a considerable share of felicity,
the conducing means I made use of,
which, with the blessing of God, so
well succeeded, my posterity may like
to know, as they may find some of
them suitable to their own situations,
and t/ierefore fit to be imitated.
{From the Autograph, p. i.)
My grandfather Thomas, who
was born in 1598, lived at Ecton
till he grew too old to follow busi-
ness longer when he went to live
with his son John, a dyer, at Ban-
bury in Oxfordshire with whom
my father served an apprentice-
ship. There my grandfather died
and lies buried.
♦Whenever I shall have occasion to cite the edition of 18 17, refer-
ence will be made to the American edition of this work, in six vols.,
published in Philadelphia in 181 8.
23
{^Edition of 1817,/. 4.)
My grandfather had four sons
who grew up, viz.: Thomas, John,
Benjamin and Josiah. Being at a
distance from my papers, I will give
you what account I can of them
from memory, and if my papers
are not lost in my absence, you will
fiml among them many more par-
ticulars.
lOmitted.^
(From the Edition of 1817,/. 10.)
I suppose you may like to know
what kind of a man my father was.
He had an excellent constitution,
and was of a middle stature, well
set, and very strong; he could
draw prettily, and was a little
skilled in music ; his voice was son-
orous and agreeable so that when
he played on his violin and sung
withal, as he was accustomed to do
after i/ie business of the day was
over, it was extremely agreeable to
hear. He had some knowledge of
mechanics, and on occasion was
very handy with other tradesmen's
tools but his great excellence was
his sound understanding, etc
{Edition ^1817,/. 15.)
About this time I met with an
odd volume of the Spectator. I
had never before seen any of them.
(Autograph, p. 2.)
My grandfather had four sons
that grew up, viz.: Thomas, John,
Benjamin and Josiah. I will give
you what account I can of them at
this distance from my papers, and if
these are not lost in my absence, you
will, among them, find many more
particulars.
{Autograph, p. I.)
I was named after this uncle,
there being a particular affection
between him and my father.
{From the Autograph, p. 7.)
/ think you may like to know
something of his person and charac-
ter. He had an excellent constitu-
tion of body, was of middle stature,
but well set and very strong; he
was ingenioiis; could draw prettily,
and 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 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
t*se of other tradesmen's tools but
his great excellence lay in a sound
understanding, eta
{Autograph, p. 13.)
About this time I met with an
odd volume of the Spectator. //
was the third. I had nevei before,
etc.
24
(From Edition of \%\'j,p. i6.)
The time / allotted for writing
Exercises and for reading was at
night or before work began in the
morning or on Sunday, when I
contrived to be in the printing
house, evading as much as I could
the constant attendance at public
worship, which my father used to
exact from me when I was under
his care and which I still con-
tinued to consider as a duty, though
I could not afford time to practice
it
(Edition ^ 1817,/. 21.)
He agreed with the captain of a
New York sloop to take me under
pretence of my being a young man
of his acquaintance that had an
intrigue with a girl of bad cliarac-
ter, whose parents would compel
me to marry her ; and that I could
neither appear or come away pub-
licly-
(From the Edition of 181 7,/. 23.)
On approaching the island, we
found it was in a place where there
could be no landing, there being a
great surf on the stony beach, so
we dropped anchor and swung out
our cable towards the shore. Some
people came down to the shore and
hallooed as we did to them, but the
wind was so high and the surf so
loud that we could not understand
each other. There were some
small boats near the shore and we
made signs and called them to
(From the Autograph, p. 14.;
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,
avoiding as much as I could the
Common attendance on public wor-
ship which my father used to
exact from 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
practice it
(Autograph, p. 22.)
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 ap-
pear, or come away publicly.
(From the Autograph, p. 24.)
When we drew near the island
we found it was at a place where
there could be no landing, there be-
ing a great surf on the stonv beach,
so we dropped anchor and swung
around toward t/ie shore. Some
people came down to the water
edge and hallooed to us as we did to
them, but the wind was so high
and the surf so loud, that we could
not hear, so as to understand each
other. There were canoes on the
shore, and we made signs and hoi-
25
fetch us; but they either did not
comprehend us, or it was imprac-
ticable, so they went off; night ap-
proaching, we had no remedy Intt
to have patience till the wind abated,
and in the meantime the boatman
and myself concluded to sleep if
we could ; and so we crowded into
the hatches where we joined the
Dutchman, who was still wet, and
the spray breaking over the head
of our boat, etc
{From the Edition <?/" 1817, /. 29.)
I was not a little surprised, and
Keimer stared with astonishment
{Edition of 1817, /. 33.)
But during my absence he had ac-
quired a habit of drinking of bran-
dy; and I found by his own account
as well as that of others, that he had
been drunk every day since his
arrival at New York, and behaved
himself in a very extravagant man-
ner.
******
The Governor received me with
great civility, showed me his libra-
ry, which was a considerable 07te, and
we had a good deal of conversation
relative to books and authors.
Collins wished to be employed in
some counting house, but whether
they discovered his dram drinking
by his breath, or, etc.
(Edition 1 81 7,/. 34.)
77ie violation of my trust respect-
ing VernorCs money was, etc
3 B
loed that they should fetch us, but
they either did not understand us
or thought it impracticable, so they
went away, and night coming on,
we had no remedy but to wait till
the wind should abate ; and,in the
meantime, the boatman and /con-
cluded to sleep if we could ; and so
crowded into the scuttle with the
Dutchman who was still wet, and
the spray beating over the head of
our boat, etc.
{From the Autograph, p. 34.)
I was not a little surprised, and
Keimer stared like a pig poisoned.
{From the Autograph, p. 39.)
But during my absence he had
acquired a habit of sotting with
brandy ; and I found by his own
account and what I heard from
others, that he had been drunk
every day since his arrival at New
York, and behaved very oddly.
******
The Governor treated me with
great civility, showed me his libra-
ry, which was a very large one, and
we had a good deal of conversation
abotit books and authors.
5k ^ ^ ^ ^ ^
Collins wished to be employed in
some counting house, but whether
they discovered his dramming by
his breath, or, etc.
{Autograph, p. 40.)
The breaking into this mon/y of
Vernon's, was, etc
26
{Edition 1817,/. 47.) {Autograph, p. 53.)
I drank only water, the other I drank only water, the other
workmen, near fifty in number, workmen, near fifty in number,
were great drinkers of beer. were great giizzlers of beer.
{Edition \Z\1, p. 55.) {Autograph, p. 62.)
At length, receiving his quar- At length, receiving his quar-
terly allowance of fifteen guineas, terly allowance of fifteen guineas,
instead of discharging his debts he instead of discharging his debts he
•went out of town, hid his gown in walked out of town, hid his gown
a furze bush and walked to London, in a furze bush, and footed it to
London.
By whom were these changes made in the text of this
manuscript.^
How came the closing pages to be overlooked }
Why was the publication which purported to be made
from the manuscript deferred for tvventy-seven years after
their author's death .?
How happened it that this posthumous work which
may be read in nearly every written language and is one
of the half-dozen most widely popular books ever printed,
should have filled the book-marts of the world for a quarter
of a century without having ever been verified by the
original manuscript.''
I doubt if it will ever be possible to determine all these
questions with absolute certainty ; but I propose to la/
before the reader such information as I have been at'^
to glean from a variety of sources, both published ai^"
unpublished, leaving him to draw from them such c""
elusions as he thinks the testimony will warrant. "^"^
array which I shall make, if it do not settle all tl^^^
questions, may lead, it is to be hoped, to the production
of latent testimony that will.
2/
II.
Dr. Franklin informs us, in the very first paragraph of
his Memoirs, that he had undertaken to prepare them for
the edification of his family. The first eighty-seven pages
of the MS., which embrace the first twenty-five years of
his life down to his marriage, appear to have been written
in 1 77 1, during one of his visits to Twyford, the country-
seat of Dr. Shipley, then Bishop of St. Asaph, and with-
out any view to publication.*
The MS. of this part was shown to some of his friends,
among others to Mr. Benjamin Vaughan, Mr. Abel James,
and to M. le Veillard, who were all so pleased with it
that they urged him to resume and publish them. He
was persuaded to do so, and in 17841 while residing at
Passy, then a suburb of Paris, wrote the succeeding pages
of the MS. to page 104. The part written in England
was followed with this memorandum, written, doubtless,
when he revised the Memoirs in 1789 :
"■ Mem. — Thus far was written with the intention ex-
pressed in the beginning, and therefore contains sfeveral
little family anecdotes of no importance to others. What
follows was written many years after, and in compliance
with the advice contained in these letters,^ and accord-
* "Expecting," he says, "a week's uninterrupted leisure in my present
country retirement, I sit down to write them for you." The MS. shows
that he had originally written it " for your perusal." " Perusal" was
afterward stricken out, and " use" written after it. This word was also
stricken out, and the phrase left as in the text. The editor of the edition
of 181 7 strikes out the words "to you" also.
t The letters here referred to are from Messrs. Vaughan and James,
and will be found in their proper place.
28
iiigly intended for the public. The affairs of the Revo-
lution occasioned the interruption."
Another reason for continuing his Memoirs, and giving
them to the press, has been assigned by M. Castera, who
published a French edition of some of Franklin's works
in 179S.* He attributes the Autobiography to a desire on
the part of Franklin and his French friends to neutralize
the pernicious influence of Rousseau's Confessions, which,
during the latter part of Franklin's residence in Paris,
were the topic of every salon. These friends thought that
it would be curious to compare the history of a writer
who seemed to have used his brilliant imagination merely
to render himself miserable, with that of a philosopher
who employed all the resources of an equally gifted intel-
lect to assure his own happiness by contiibuting to the
happiness of others.
* Vie de Franklin, ecrite par lui-meme, suivie de ses CEuvres morales,
politiques et litteraires, dont la plus grande partie n'avait pas encore ete
publiee. — Traduit de I'Anglais, avec des notes par J. Castera. Eripuit
Ctelo fidnien, Sceptrumque tyrattnis. Paris, chez F. Buisson, Imp. Lib.,
Rue Hautefeuille, No. 20, an vi. de la Republique, 1798. In his preface
confounding Mr. Benjamin Franklin Bache with William Temple
Franklin, who was the Doctor's literary executor and custodian of his
unpublished manuscripts, Mr. Castera says : " It is not known why Mr.
Benjamin Franklin Bache, who has them (the MS. memoirs) in his pos-
session, and is now residing in London, keeps them so long from the
public. The works of a great man belong less to his heirs than to the
human race." It is a curious circumstance that the copy of the Me-
moirs given in this collection of Castera was translated from an English
edition, which was itself only a translation from the first French trans-
lation, thus removed by three translations from the original. "A part
of the life of Franklin," says Mr. Castera, "has already been translated
into French and in a sufficiently careful manner. Notwithstanding, I
have dared to translate it anew."
29
A comparison of dates will show that M. Castera's
theory was purely imaginary.
* * * The self-torturing sophist, wild Ron?scau,
The apostle of affliction, * * *
wrote the first part of his Confessions during his residence
in England in the years 1766 and 1767. The second was
composed in Dauphiny and at Trye in the years 1768 and
1770. It was his intention that they should not be printed
until iSoo, presuming that by that time all who figured
in them would have ceased to live ; but the period he had
fixed for their publication was anticipated. The first part
was printed in 1781, and the second in 1788. It is not
likely that Franklin or any of his friends knew anything
of them till the first part was published in 1781, and all
of Franklin's Memoirs that Castera published or knew
anything of had been written ten years before.
The Doctor returned to the United States in the summer
of 1785. In the fall of that year he received a note from
his friend, Mr. Edward Bancroft, the tenor of which is
sufficiently explained in the following extract from the
Doctoi-'s reply :
"Philadelphia, T-dth November, 1785.
" Dear Sir :
"I received your kind letter of September 5th, inform
ing mc of the intention Mr. Dilly has of printing a new
edition of my writings, and of his desire that I would
furnish him with such additions as I may think proper.
At present all my papers and manuscripts are so mixed
with other things, by the confusions occasioned in sudden
and various removals during the late troubles, that I can
hardly find anything. But having nearly finished an
3»
30
addition to my house, which will aflbrd me room to put
all in order, I hope soon to be able to comply with such
a request ; but I hope Mr. Dilly will have a good under-
standing in the affair with Henry & Johnson, who, having
risked the former impressions, may suppose they thereby
acquired some right in the copy. As to the Life pro-
posed to be written, if it be by the same hand who fur-
nished a sketch to Dr. Lettsom, which he sent me, I am
afraid it will be found too full of errors for either you or
me to correct ; and having been persuaded by my friends,
Messrs. Vaughan and M. le Veillard, Mr. James, of this
place, and some others, that such a Life written by myself
may be useful to the rising generation, I have made some
progress in it, and hope to finish it this winter ; so I
cannot but wish that project of Mr. Dilly's biographer
may be laid aside. I am nevertheless thankful to you for
your friendly ofier of correcting it.* *****
The Doctor's hopes of completing the Memoirs during
the winter of 17S5 were not realized, nor did he resume
work upon them until three years later.
"As to the little history I promised you," he writes to
his friend, Le Veillard, the 15th April, 17S7, "my pur-
pose still continues of completing it, and I hoped to do
it this summer, having built an addition to my house, in
which I have placed my library, and where I can write
without being disturbed by the noise of the children ; but
* The only letter we have from M. le Veillard bears date, Passy,
Oct. 9, 1785. He says, in allusion to this subject : " I hope you have
been industrious during your passage, and that you have finished you?
Memoirs, and will send them to me."
31
the General Assembly having lately desired my assistance
at a great convention to be held in May next for amending
the Federal Constitution, I begin to doubt whether I can
make any progress in it till that business is over."*
In the same letter he adds farther on :
"You blame me for writing three pamphlets and ne-
glecting to write the little history : you should consider
they were written at sea, out of my own head ; the other
could not so well be written there for want of the docu-
ments that could only be had here."
On the 24th of October, 1788,! the Doctor writes to M.
le Veillard as follows :
" I have been much afflicted the last summer with a
long-continued fit of the gout, which I am not quite clear
of, though much better ; my other malady is not aug-
mented. I have lately made great progress in the work
you so urgently demand, and have come as far as my fif-
tieth year. Being now free from public business, as my
term in the Presidentship is expired, and resolving to
engage in no other public employment, I expect to have
it finished in about two months, if illness or some unfore-
seen interruption does not prevent. I do not, therefore,
send a part at this time, thinking it better to retain the
whole till I can view it all together, and make the proper
corrections."
William Temple Franklin also writes on the 17th of
November, 1 788 :
" Our new government goes on in its way. Many
* See this date, infra, vol. iii.
t See this date, infra, vol. iii.
32
States have elected their Senators. The people are soon
to elect their representatives. It is in March next they
should meet.' There is but one voice for the President-
General, the illustrious Washington. In respect to the
Vice President, opinions are shared between General
Knox, Messrs. Hancock, Adams, &c. My grandfather
having served the three years as President of this State,
Genl. Mifflin has been elected in his place. My grand-
father now calls himself a free man, and I believe it
would be difficult to induce him to change his condition.
No one could more enjoy his liberty and repose. He is
now occupied in writing the continuation of his life, which
you have so urgently desired of him. His health improves
every day. Farewell, my friend. Recall me to the recol-
lection of all our common friends, and say a thousand
tender things to all your family. I write to your son.
" W. T. Fs"*
In three other letters to M. le Veillard, written during
the year 17SS, Dr. Franklin alludes to his promise and
his reasons for not having hitherto been able to keep it.
Under date of February 17, 17SS, he writes:
" I should have proceeded in the history you mention,
if I could well have avoided accepting the chair of Presi-
dent for this third and last year; to which I was ao-ain
elected by the zmafiimous voice of the Council and
General Assembly in November. If I live to see this
year expire, I may enjoy some leisure, which I promise
you to employ in the w^ork you do me the honor to urge
so earnestly."!
* Le Veillard Collection,
t See this date, infra, vol. iii.
33
Scarcely two months later, and under date of April
22,* he writes again :
" I received but a few days since your favor of Nov.
30, 17S7, in which you continue to urge me to finish th^
Memoirs. My three years of service will expire in Octo-
ber, when a new President must be chosen, and I had the
project of retiring then to my grandson's estate, in New
Jersey, where I might be free from the interruption of
visits, in order to complete that work for your satisfaction ;
for in this city my time is so cut to pieces by friends and
strangers, that I have sometimes envied the prisoners in
Bastille. But considering now the little remnant of life I
have left, the accidents that may happen between this and
October, and your earnest desire, I have come to the reso-
lution to proceed in that work to-morrow, and continue it
daily till finished, which, if my health permits, may be in
the coru'se of the ensuing summer. As it goes on I will
have a copy made for you, and you may expect to receive
a part by the next packet."
About six weeks after the foregoing, and under date of
June 6, he writes again :
" Eight States have now agreed to the proposed new
Constitution ; there remain five who have not yet dis-
cussed it, their appointed times of meeting not having
yet arrived. Two are to meet this month ; the rest later.
One more agreeing, it will be carried into execution.
Probably some will not agree at present, but time may
brinsf them in : so that we have little doubt of its be-
coming general, perhaps with some corrections. As to
your friend's taking a share in the management of it; his
* See this date, infra, vol. iii.
34
Rge and infirmities render him unfit for the business, as
the business would be for him. After the expiration of
the term of his Presidentship, which will now be in a few
months, he is determined to engage no more in public
aflairs even if required ; but his countrymen will be too
reasonable to i-equire it. You are not so considerate.
You are a hard taskmaster. You insist on his writing his
life, already a long work, and at the same time would
have him continually employed in augmenting the sub-
ject, while the term shortens in which the work is to be
executed."*
The Doctor did resume the Memoirs in 17SS, and
probably wrote about this time all of the remainder that
has hitherto been published in English. It appears, how-
ever, from the following passage in a letter to M. le
Veillard, dated September 5, 1789, that he had then
abandoned all hope of completing the Memoirs, and was
making arrangements to transmit a copy of w'hat was
done, to M. le Veillard and to Mr. Vaughan. Whether
he intended one for each or for both is not quite certain :
" I hope you have perfectly recovered of your fall at
Madame Helvetius's, and that you now enjoy perfect
health ; as to mine, I can give you no good account. I
have a long time been afflicted with almost constant and
grievous pain, to combat w^hich I have been obliged to
have recourse to opium, which indeed has afforded me
some ease from time to time, but then it has taken away
my appetite, and so impeded my digestion that I am
liecome totally emaciated, and little remains of me but a
skeleton covered with a skin. In this situation, I have
* See this date, infra, vol. iii.
35
not been able to continue my Memoirs, and now I sup-
pose I shall never finish them. Benjamin has made a
copy of what is done for you, which shall be sent by the
first safe opportunity."*
Shortly before this letter was written —on the 3d of
June of that year — the Doctor wrote to his friencl
Vaughan, who, it appears, had been urging him to go on
with the Memoirs :
" I received your kind letter of March 4th, and wish 1
may be able to complete what you so earnestly desire —
the Memoirs of my life. But of late I am so interrupted
by extreme pain, which obliges me to have recourse to
opium, that, between the effects of both, I have but little
time in which I can write anything. My grandson, how-
ever, is copying what is done, which will be sent to you
for your opinion by the next vessel ; and not merely for
your opinion, but for your advice ; for it is a difficult task
to speak decently and properly of one's own conduct ;
and I feel the want of a judicious friend to encourage me
in scratching out." f
On the 2d of November he writes again to Mr.
Vaughan in the same desponding strain of his health,
though still more hopeful of continuing the Memoirs
than he appeared when he wrote the letter last cited to
M. le Veillard :
" I thank you much for your intimations of the virtues
of hemlock ; but I have tried so many things with so little
effect that I am quite discouraged, and have no longer
any faith in remedies for the stone. The palliating system
* See this date, infra, vol. iii.
t See this date, infra, vol. iii.
36
IS whut I am now fixed in. Opium gives me ease when
I am attacked by pain, and by the use of it I still make
life tolerable. Not being able, however, to bear sitting to
write, I now make use of the hand of one of my grand-
sons, dictating to him from my bed. I wish, indeed, I
had tried this method sooner; for so I think I might by
this time have finished my Memoirs, in which I have
made no progress for these six months past. I have now
taken the resolution to endeavor completing them in this
way of dictating to an amanuensis. What is already
done I now send you, with an eai'nest request that you
and my good friend. Dr. Price, would be so good as to
take the trouble of reading it, critically examining it, and
giving me your candid opinion whether I had best pub-
lish or suppress it ; and if the first, then what parts had
best be expunged or altered. I shall rely upon your
opinions ; for I am now grown so old and feeble in mind,
as well as body, that I cannot place any confidence in my
own judgment. In the mean time, I desire and expect
that you will not suffer any copy of it, or of any part of it,
to be taken for any purpose whatever."*
The only evidence, beyond the promise contained in
his letter of the 3d of June, that the Doctor sent a copy
of his Memoirs to Mr. Vaughan, is a statement made by
the Due de la Rochefoucault in an eminently discrimi-
nating and cordial eulogium which he pronounced before
a society in Paris on the 13th of June, 17S9; two year.s
before the Doctor's death. In this discourse he says:
"The most voluminous of his works is the history of
* See this date, infra, vol. iii.
37
his own life, which he commenced for the use of his son,
and for the continuation of whicli we are indebted to the
ardent solicitations of Monsieur le Veillard, one of his
most intimate friends. It employed his leisure hours
during the latter part of his life ; but the bad state of his
health and his excruciating pains, which gave him little
i^espite, frequently interrupted his work ; and the two
copies — one of which was sent by him to London, to Dr.
Price and Mr. Vaughan, and the other to Monsieur le
Veillard and me — reach no farther than the year 1757.
He speaks of himself as he would have done of another
person, delineating his thoughts, his actions, and even his
errors and faults ; and he describes the unfolding of his
genius and talents with the simplicity of a great man,
who knows how to do justice to himself, and with the
testimony of a clear conscience, void of reproach and
' of oftence toward God and toward man.' * *
*******
His Memoirs, gentlemen, will be published as soon as we
receive from America the additions he may have made to
the manuscript in our possession ; and we then intend to
give a complete collection of his works."
The Duke had evidently derived his information in
regard to the Memoirs exclusively from the letter last
cited to M. le Veillard.
The Doctor died in a little less than six months aftei
his letter of the 2d of November to Mr. Vaughan. By his
will, made in the summer of 1 7S8, he bequeathed his books,
manuscripts, and papers, after deducting a few special be-
quests, to his grandson, William Temple Franklin. Among
the manuscripts was the original text of these Memoirs.
On the 22d of May, Wm. Temple wrote M. le Veil-
38
lard, announcing his grandfather's deaUi and the interest
he had acquired in the Memoirs, which might be said to
have owed their existence to M. le Veillard's perti-
nacity ; his intention to prepare them for pubHcation, and
requesting M. le Veillard to show them to no one vmless
to the Academician who should be charged to make the
eulogy of the deceased, and to permit no one to take a
copy of what had been sent him. He adds that he him-
self has the original. This letter was written in French
"Philadelphia, 22 May, 1790.*
" You have already learned, my dear friend, the loss
which you and I, and the world, have experienced, in the
death of this good and amiable papa. Although we have
long expected it, we were none the less shocked by it
when it arrived. He loved you very tenderly, as he did
.all your family, and I do not doubt you will share my just
sorrow. I intended writing you tlie details of his death
by M. de Chaumont, but the duty of arranging his
affairs, and especially his papers, prevents my answering
your last, as well as the one which your daughter was
pleased to write me, accompanying her work. I have
been touched with this mark of her condescension and
friendship, and I beg you to testify to her my gratitude
until I have an opportunity of writing to her, whicli will
certainly be by the first occasion for France. Now, as I
am about writing, her goodness will awaken me. This
letter will reach you by way of England.
" I feel it my duty to profit by this occasion to inform
you that my grandfather, among other legacies, has left
all his papeis and manuscripts to me, with permission to
* Fur the original see vol. iii. p. 465.
39
turn them to what profit I can. Consequently, I beg you,
my dear friend, to show to no one that part of his Life
which he sent you some time since, lest some one copy
and publish it, which would infinitely prejudice the pub-
lication which I propose to make as soon as possible, of
his entire Life and of his other works. As I have the
original here of the part which you have, it will not be
necessary for you to send it to me, but I beg you at all
events to put it in an envelope, well sealed, addressed to
me, in order that by no accident it may get into other
hands.
" If, however, it should be necessary to assist the person
who will pronounce his eulogy at the Academy, you may
lend it for that purpose, with the stipulation that no copy
of it shall be made, and with such other precautions as
you deem necessary. The foreign representatives of our
Government have not yet been named. It is possible I
may be one, which would put me in tlie way to assist in
the publication of my grandfather's works ; but even if
they think no more of me, it is very probable that I shall
conclude to go to Europe, inasmuch as I am persuaded I
can derive more advantage from the publication in Eng-
land or in France than in this country.
" Adieu for the present. In two or three weeks I hope
to be able to write to you directly, as well as to my other
friends, male and female, in France. Love me, my dear
friend. I have more need than ever of your friendship.
"W. T. Franklin."
In the course of a few months after this letter was
written, William Temple Franklin arrived in London,
where he pretended to be engaged in preparing an edition
40
of the Life and works of his grandfather, which he then
expected to have ready in the course of the year. But it
was ordained that this pre-eminently American work
should be first presented to the world in a foreign tongue.
A French translation appeared at Paris in 1791.* It em-
braced only the first eighty-seven pages of the manuscript.
In his preface the editor seems to question the good faith
of William Temple's promise to publish the Memoirs
entire. As this preface is not readily accessible, and as it
constitutes an important link in the history of this manu-
script, I need ofter no apology for giving it entire :
" 1 shall not enter into an uninteresting detail relative
to the manner in which the original manuscript of these
Memoirs, which are written in the English language,
came into my possession. They appeared to me to be so
interesting that I did not hesitate a single moment to
translate them into French.
" The name of Franklin will undoubtedly become a
passport to a work of this nature, and the character of
truth and simplicity discernible in every page must guar-
antee its authenticity. I have no manner of occasion to
join other testimonies.
" If, however, any critic chooses to disbelieve my asser-
tion, and is desirous to bring the existence of the original
manuscript into doubt, I am ready to verify it by means
of an immediate impression ;f but as I am not certain
*Memoires de la vie privee de Benjamin Franklin, ecrits par lin-
metne et adresses a son fils, suivis d'un precis historique de sa vie
politique, et de plusieurs pieces relatives a ce pere de la liberie. A
Paris, cliez Buisson, Libraire, Rue Hautefeuille, No. 20. 1791.
t "Those who may be desirous of reading the Memoirs of the public
life of Franklin in the original are requested to leave their names with
Buisson, bookseller. Rue Hautefeuille, No. 20. The work will be senr
41
of the sale of a work written in a foreign language, I
cannot publish it in any other manner than by means of a
subscription large enough to indemnify me for the money
advanced.
" That part of the Memoirs of Franklin in my posses-
sion includes no more than the first period of a life, the
remainder of which has become illustrious by events of
the highest importance ; it terminates at the epoch when,
after having married, he began to render himself cele-
brated by plans and establishments of public utility.
" It is very possible that he may have written more of
his history ; for the portion of it which I now present to
the public concludes, according to his own account, with
the year 1771.*
" If this be the case, the heirs of that great man will
not fail some day to publish it, either in England or in
Pennsylvania, and we shall doubtless have a French trans-
lation, which will be received by the public with great
eagerness ; but I am persuaded that his family will not
disclose any other than the most brilliant period of his
life — that which is connected with the memorable part he
acted in the world, both as a philosopher and a statesman.
They will never be prevailed upon to narrate the humble
details of his early days and the simple but interesting
anecdotes of his origin, the obscurity of which, although
it enhances the talents and the virtues of this great man,
may yet wound their own vanity.
to the press as soon as there are 400 subscribers. The price is 48 sols
(or cents)."
* This date is erroneous. Dr. Franklin commenced writing his Me-
moirs in 1771, but in the portion of his Memoirs published in 1791 he
did not bring down the narrative of his life beyond the year 1757.
4»
42
*' If my conjecture prove right ; if the Memoirs which
they are about to publish under the name of FrankHn
should be mutilated ; if the first part, so essential to read-
ers capable of feeling and judging, should be suppressed,
I shall applaud myself for having preserved it; and the
world will be obliged to me for having enabled them to
follow the early developments of the genius, and the first
exertions of the sublime and profound mind of a man who
afterward penetrated the mystery of electricity and dis-
covered the secret measures of despotism — who preserved
the universe from the ravages of thunder, and his native
country from the horrors of tyranny !
" If I am accidentally mistaken, if the life of Franklin
should appear entire, the public will still have the advan-
tage of anticipating the interesting part of a history which
it has long and impatiently expected.
" The principal object proposed by the American phi-
losopher in writing these Memoirs was, to instruct pos-
terity and amuse his own leisure hours. He has permitted
his ideas to flow at the will of his memory and his heart,
without ever making any effort to disguise the truth, not-
withstanding it is not always very flattering to his self-
love — but I here stop ; it belongs to Franklin to speak for
himself.
" It will be easily perceived that I have preserved as
much as possible the ease and simplicity of his style in
my translation. I have not even aflected to correct the
negligence of his language, or to clothe his sentiments
with a gaudy dress, for which they have no manner of
occasion ; I should have been afraid of bereaving the work
of one of its principal ornaments.
"As these Memoirs reach no farther than his marriage,
43
I have made use of other materials in crder to complete
so interesting a history, and I have also added a numbei
of anecdotes and remarks relative to this philosophical
American. The Editor."
Qiierard* attributes this translation to a Dr. Jacques
Gibelin, who, it appears, was a naturalist of some repute ;
had been occasionally in England ; had translated from
* Queraid, La France Littiraire.
M. de Senarmont seems to have been under the impression that this
translation was made by M. le Veillard. This M. le Veillard himself
most distinctly denied in a note which he communicated to the " Journal
de Paris," in 1791, No. 83, of which the following is a translation :
"Passy, near Paris, 2\st March, 1791.
" Shortly before his death, Mr. Franklin sent me the Memoirs of his
life, written by himself, and I have only deferred the publication of them
out of respect for his family, and especially for Wm. Temple Franklin,
his grandson, to whom his grandfather has left all his manuscripts. He
proposes to make a complete edition, as well in French as in English,
in which he will insert my translation. He is now in England, occu-
pied with this work, and is expected in France, in a few days, to com-
plete it.
" Buisson, a bookseller in the Rue Hautefeuille, has published a
volume in 8vo., entitled Memoi7'es de la Vie Privee de Betijamin Frafiklin,
icrits par lui-mime et adressh h son fils. The first 156 pages of this
volume contain in effect the commencement of the Memoirs of Dr.
Franklin, almost entirely conforming to the manuscript which I possess,
1 do not know by what means the translator has procured them, but I
declare and think it ought to be known that he did not have them from
me ; that I had no part in the translation ; that this fragment, which
ends in 1730, is scarcely a third of what I have, which only comes down
to 1757, and which consequently does not terminate this work, the re-
mainder of which IS in the hands of Mr. W. T. Franklin, who will plan
his edition so that the complete Memoirs of Franklin will form one or
twc volumes, which may be obtained separately.
"Le Veillard."
44
English philosophical writers, Priestley among others, and
had made an abridgment of the Phil. Trans, of the Royal
Society, &c. How he obtained possession of the English
manuscript is a mystery which will probably never be
solved.*
The following letter from William Temple Franklin
in London, to M. le Veillard, was written in the spring of
1 791, but subsequent to the appearance of the French
translation. He represents himself as still engaged upon
the Life and works of his grandfather, which he pretended
would be ready for the press in a few weeks :
"London, 22 April, 1791.
" I received last night, my dear friend, your letter of
the r2th inst. I am as sensible as you can be of the ad-
vantage that would result from my being at present in
* The relations of literary comity which must have subsisted bet\veen
Gibelin and many of Franklin's English friends whose works he had
translated, naturally lead to the suspicion that the copy pmmised Mr.
Vaughan, if ever made and sent, may in some way have fallen into
Gibelin's hands. If so, Mr. Vaughan must have construed tl^fi Doctor's
injunction, not to permit "a copy of the MS. to be taken for any pur-
pose whatever," to have been removed by his death. If surh was the
case, however, why did he not produce an English edition ?
In a notice which Cabanis prepared shortly after the new" of Dr.
Franklin's death reached Paris, the following allusion is mad'» to this
edition of the Memoirs :
"Benjamin Franklin s'est peint lui-meme dans des Memoire.* Hont il
n'a paru jusqu'ici qu'un fragment ; mais ce sont ses ennemis ou des pen-
sionnaires du cabinet de Saint James qui I'ont public. lis y ont ioint
de plates notes auxquelles la famille aurait dil repondre plus tot p3»" la
publication du reste de I'ouvrage. En attendant qu'elle remplisse ce
devoir, nous allons rassembler ici quelques traits, que nous avons »■€-
cueillis de la bouche meme de Franklin dans une commerce intim^ de
plusieurs annees." — (Euvres de Calmnis, vol. v. p. 221.
45
Paris, and I can assure you I am equally desirous of it.
But business of the last importance, and that interested
me personally, has hitherto detained me here ; that, how-
ever, is now happily completed, and I am at present con-
stantly occupied in the arrangement of my late grand-
father's papers, which were left in the greatest disorder ;
whether I am able to complete this or not, 1 shall certainly
leave London for Paris in the course of a fortnight. But
my wish is, if possible, to finisli this, and my bargain with
the booksellers, before I set off, that I may not be obliged
to return hither merely on that account. Were it only the
Life, it would already have been done ; but I wish a com-
plete edition of his works to appear at the same time, and
as I have no assistance, the necessary preparations are
very laborious. I am very sorry that any part of the Life
should have already appeared in France — however imper-
fect, which I understand it is. I have endeavored, and I
hope effectually, to put a stop to a translation appearing
here.
"Adieu, my dear friend; all will, I hope, go well.
With my best affections to all your family, I am, as ever
and for ever,
" Sincerely yours,
W. T. Franklin." *
William Temple's apprehensions of an English trans-
lation were not without foundation.
Strange as it is that the first version of any portion of
these Memoirs should have appeared in a foreign tongue,
it is yet more remarkable that the first English version
should have been, as it was, a translation from the French.
* Le Veillard Collection.
46
Two years after the French version first appeared in Paris
two English versions were published in London, one for
G. G. J. and J. Robinson, no date^ 8vo, the other for J.
Parsons,* No. 21 Paternoster Row, and both translations
from the French. The former was the only English ver-
sion printed in America until that of William Temple
Franklin appeared in 18171 and continues to this day to
be republished by some of the largest houses, not only in
Europe, but in America, under the impression that it is
both genuine and complete. What measures were taken,
if any, to prevent the appearance of an English translation
have not transpired.
William Temple's expectations of getting to Paris in a
few weeks do not seem to have been realized ; for, from
the following letter it appears that nearly two months
had elapsed and he was still in London, but hoped to set
out for France before the end of the month. A specula-
tion, from which he had realized £7,000, is assigned as
the cause of his delay. He professes to be much dis-
tressed at what M. le Veillard had suffered — in what way
is not disclosed — from his not arriving in Paris :
"London, \i,June, 1791.
" I am much distressed, my dear friend, at what you
say you suffer from my not arriving in Paris. I have
been wishing to be there as much as you could wish to
see me, but I could not possibly think of leaving this,
while a business I had undertaken was pending for which
* This edition contains the following dedication : " To Sir Henry
Tempest of Tong, in the county of York, and Hope-end, in the county
of Hereford, Bart., this life of Benjamin Franklin, a statesman, a phil-
osopher and a patriot, is dedicated (as a mark of his esteem and regard)
by the translator, London, July i, 1793."
47
I rec'd a salary and which, being now completed, affords
me a profit of seven thousand founds sterling"! This,
my dear friend, has hitherto kept me here — having only
been finally terminated on the nth inst. I am in hopes
you will think my excuse for staying till it was done a
good one. I have now only some few arrangements to
make in consequence of my success, and shall undoubt-
edly be with you before the conclusion of this month.
My respects to your family and all inquiring friends, and
believe me unalterably
" Yours,
"W. T. Franklin."*
The letter which follows, dated seven months later than
the preceding, authorizes the impression that William
Temple Franklin had entered into engagements of some
sort with M. le Veillard for bringing out his work simul-
taneously in France and in England. If so, his failure to
keep those engagements furnishes a natural and obvious
explanation of the sufferings of M. le Veillard, referred
to in the preceding letter :
"London, 28 Feb., 1792.
" My Dear Friend :
" I received lately your favor of the 12th inst., and pre-
vious to it, the one you mention from M. Feuillet. I am
exceedingly sorry that gentleman cannot complete the
translation, as I am confident it would have been well
done ; however, it shall not retard the publication of such
parts as are translated at the time the original appears
* Le Veillard Collection.
48
here, which at present is not determined, but will not be
delayed longer than is absolutely necessary for the arrange-
ment of the materials. This might, perhaps, have been
done sooner had I been better calculated for the business,
or had not my fortune required my attention to other pur-
suits, b)'^ which it has been most materially benefited.
Notwithstanding the opinion you entertain — that I have
neglected the publication in question for business less im-
portant (which, by the way, you cannot possibly be a
judge of) — I can assui'e you I have given it all the atten-
tion I could, consistent with the important concerns above
alluded to, in which others being interested, required my
first and most diligent care ; and, however I may have
lost something by not publishing sooner, yet it has been
amply compensated by those pui^suits you judge less im-
portant. I am now almost entirely employed in bringing
forward the English edition, and shall not leave this till I
have put it into such a train as not to require my pres-
ence ; but this will take up more time than you are aware
of; for however easy it may be to bring forward a bro-
chure^ it is no small labor to publish a voluminous work ;
and that, too, to be formed out of materials that were left
in the greatest confusion. A few months will, I hope,
satisfy your impatience and the public curiosity. When
matters are in good train here, I shall immediately repair
to Paris to forward the translation, and you may rely on
it that at least the Life shall appear the same day in Paris
as in London ; sooner I see not the necessity for, and it
might expose me hereafter to some difficulties here ; as
the French edition appearing previous to the English, a
translation might be printed here to the prejudice of my
copy.
49
" Adieu, my dearest friend ; remember me, in the
most affectionate manner, to Madame le Veillard, and
every part of your family, and believe me, as ever and
for ever,
" Sincerely yours,
"W. T. Franklin.
" P. S. — ^You have heard, I suppose, of the nomination
by the President of Mr. Gouverneur Morris to be minister
at your Court.? It has, however, suffered some demur in
the Senate, and has not been yet confirmed.
"I have no doubt, however, but it will. From the well-
known sentiments of Mr. M., this appointment will not,
I believe, be very agreeable to the National Assembly.
Mr. Short goes to Holland, and I am totally neglected.
I shall therefore lose no time, but turn my attention to
other pursuits." *
No farther correspondence appears to have passed be-
tween William Temple Franklin and M. le Veillard,
though the latter gentleman was living till 1794. The
interruption to this correspondence was probably the re-
sult of an estrangement, of which the letters cited furnish
some premonitory symptoms.
Whatever may have been the cause of the delay,
William Temple's edition did not appear until 1817.
Nor, as I have before intimated, was this editio prin-
ceps of 181 7 printed from the original manuscripts, but
from the copy presented to M. le Veillard. The evi-
* Le Veillard Collection.
so
dence of this may be found in the omission of the hist
eight pages, which are only to be found in the autograph,
and in the following memorandum inscribed on its fly-
leaves in French and in English, in the handwriting, I
presume, of M. de Senarmont, or of some member of his
family. The English version runs as follows :
"THE LIFE OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN,
"written by himself.
" The oitly Manuscript Entirely of his own Handwriting.
" Dr. Franklin, when Ambassador in France, was
very intimate with M. le Veillard, gentilho?n?ne ordi-
naire du Roi., his neighbor, near Paris. He presented
his friend with a fine copy of the Memoirs of his own
life.
" When William Temple Franklin, Dr. Franklin's grand-
son, came to Europe in order to publish the works of his
illustrious grandfather, he required from Mad. le Veillard
(M. le Veillard had perished on the Revolutionary scaf-
fold) the correct and fine copy given by his grandfather,
as more convenient for the printer. ' If I give it to you,
I shall have nothing more of our friend.' ' I will give
you, in place of the copy, the original manuscript of my
grandfather.'
"In this manner the original and only manuscript came
by inheritance into the hands of M. de Senarmont, M. le
Veillard's grand-nephew."
The precise time when the exchange here referred to
was made does not appear, but the following paragraph
from Sir Samuel Romilly's Diary of a Visit to France in
1802, informs us that he was shown the autograph ; that
51
the copy originally furnished to M. le Veillard, and after
ward given to William T. Franklin, was made by a
copying-press, and that that copy was exchanged for the
original previous to Romilly's visit in 1S02 :
" Sept 7' Mad. Gautier procured for me the reading of
the original manuscript of Dr. Fi'anklin's Life. There
are only two copies — this, and one which Dr. Franklin
took with a machine for copying letters, and which is in
possession of his grandson. Franklin gave the manu-
script to M. le Veillard, of Passy, who was guillotined
during the Revolution. Upon his death it came into the
hands of his daughter or grand-daughter, Mad'lle le Veil-
lard, who is the present possessor of it. It appears evi-
dently to be the first draught written by Franklin, for in
a great many places the word originally written is erased
with a pen, and a word nearly synonymous substituted in
its place, not over the other but further on, so as mani-
festly to show that the correction was made at the time
of the original composition. The manuscript contains a
great many additions made upon a very wide margin ;
but I did not find that a single passage was anywhere
struck out. Part of the work, but not quite half of it,
has been translated into French, and from French re-
translated into English. The Life comes down no lower
than to the year 1757"*
The omission of the eight pages which conclude the
manuscript, and which constitute one of the most precious
chapters of this famous fragment, is susceptible of the
following explanation :
William Temple Franklin exchanged the autograph
* Life of Romilly, 3d ed, vol. i. p. 408.
52
manuscript for the copy sent to M. le Veillard, without
being aware that, between the time that copy was made
and its authoi-'s death, these pages had been added. Pre-
suming they were the same, probably he did not compare
them, and thus overlooked one of the most precious chap-
ters of this famous fragment.
William Temple Franklin's delay in the publication of
the Memoirs, twenty-seven years after the death of their
author, cannot be so satisfactorily accounted for.
It brought a reproach upon our country for the lack of
" literary enterprise and activity," of which it was thought
to convict us, and was also attributed, in part, to motives
not entirely honorable to the person directly responsible
for the delay. The Edinburgh Review gave the most
solemn expression to the public discontent in a review
of the three-volume edition of Franklin's Works and
Memoirs, published by Johnson & Longman, of London,
in 1806.*
In the first two paragraphs of this article the writer
says :
" Nothing, we think, can show more clearly the singu-
lar want of literary enterprise or activity in the States of
America than that no one has yet been found in that
flourishing republic to collect and publish the works of
their only philosopher. It is not even very creditable to
the literary curiosity of the English public that there
should have been no complete edition of the writings of
Dr. Franklin till the year 1806 ; and we should have beet
altogether unable to account for the imperfect and un
satisfactory manner in which the work has now been per
See Edinburgh Review, Ju'y, 1 806.
S3
formed, if it had not been for a statement in a prefatory
advertisement, which removes all blame from the editor
to attach it to a higher quarter. It is there stated that
recently, after the death of the author, his grandson, to
whom all his papers had been bequeathed, made a voyage
to London for the purpose of preparing and disposing of
a complete collection of all his published and unpublished
writings, with Memoirs of his life brought down by him-
self to the year 1757, and continued to his death by hi«.
descendant. It was settled that the work should be pub-
lished in three quarto volumes in England, Germany
and France, and a negotiation was commenced with the
booksellers as to the terms of purchase and publication.
At this stage of the business, however, the proposals
were suddenly withdrawn, and nothing more has been
heard of the work in this its fair and natural market.
" The proprietor, it seems, had found a bidder of a dif-
ferent description in some emissary of government^
whose object was to -withhold the manuscripts from the
world, not to benefit it by their publication ; and they
thus either passed into other hands, or the person to
whom they were bequeathed received a remunei-ation for
suppressing them.
*' If this statement be correct, we have no hesitation in
saying that no emissary of government was ever em-
ployed on a more miserable and unworthy service. It is
ludicrous to talk of the danger of disclosing, in i795? ^'ly
secrets of State with regard to the war of American Inde-
pendence ; and as to any anecdotes or observations that
might give ofience to individuals, we think it should
always be remembered that public functionaries are the
property of the public ; that their character belongs to
6-»
54
history and to posterity, and that it is equally absurd ana
discreditable to think of suppressiitg any part of the evi-
dence by which their merits must be ultimately deter-
mined. But the whole of the works that have been sup-
pressed certainly did not relate to republican politics.
The history of the author's life, down to 1757, could not
well contain any matter of offence, and a variety of gen-
eral remarks and speculations which he is understood to
have left behind him might have been permitted to see
the light, though his diplomatic operations had been inter-
dicted. The emissary of government, however, probably
took no care of these things : he was resolved to leave no
rubs and botches in his work, and, to stifle the dreaded
revelation, he thought the best way was to strangle all the
innocents in the vicinasfe."
William Temple's tardy vindication from these imputa-
tions is given in the preface to his edition of his grand-
father's works. He there admits that he delayed their
publication, that " they might not be the means of awa-
kening painful recollections or of rekindling the dying
embers of animosity."*
Mr. Sparks thinks that William Temple Franklin had
motives for delaying the publication of the writings of hia
grandfather which he did not assign in his preface. He
says '.\
" There was a rumor that the British ministry interposed
and offered the proprietor of the papers a large remunera-
tion to suppress them, which he accepted. This rumor
was so broadly stated in the preface to Johnson's edition
* The whole of this preface is worth perusing. It will be found at
length in Appendix i.
t Sparks' Life of Franklin, vol. vii. Preface.
55
as to amount to a positive charge : and it was reiterated
with an assurance that would seem at least to imply that
it was sustained by the public opinion. To this charge
William Temple Franklin replied when, in the year 1817?
he published an edition of his grandfother's works from
the manuscripts in his possession. In the preface to the
first volume he endeavors to explain the reason why he
had so long delayed the publication, and he also takes
notice of the charge in question. He treats it with indig-
nation and contempt, and appears not to regard it as
worthy of being refuted. He was less reserved in con-
versation. Dr. John W. Francis, of New York, saw him
often in London in the year 1S16, while he was preparing
his grandfather's papers for the press. ' To me,' says
Dr. Francis, ' he peremptorily denied all interference of
any official authorities whatever with his intended publi-
cation, and assigned, as sufficient causes for the non-exe-
cution of the task committed to him, the interruption of
communication and the hostilities between the French
and the English nations, and the consequent embarrass-
ments he encountered in collecting the scattered mate
rials.' The reason here assigned for delay is not verv
satisfactory, and there were doubtless others. His father,
William Franklin, died in 1813. He had been a pen-
sioner on the British government, in consequence of the
part he had taken in the Revolution, and it is probable
that he may have been averse to the publication of his
father's papers during his lifetime. To say the least, the
suspicion that papers were finally suppressed for any
cause is without proof and highly improbable. A paper
mentioned by Mr. Jefferson, as having been shown to
him by Dr. Franklin, and supposed to have been sup'
56
pressed, was undoubtedly the one relating to a negotia-
tion with Lord Howe and others, for a reconciliation
between the two countries, just before Dr. Franklin left
England for the last time. This was published by his
grandson, and is contained in the fifth volume of the
present edition."
It is difficult to believe that Mr. Sparks could have read
Franklin's account of his negotiations with Lord Howe by
the light of Jefferson's statement to which he refers, when
he wrote that " the suspicion that papers were finally
suppressed for any cause is without proof and highly im-
probable." In the closing pages of his autobiography
Mr. Jefferson tells us that he called upon Dr. Franklin in
Philadelphia in 1790, and only a few weeks before his
death, when the doctor placed in his hands a full account
of his negotiations in London with the British ministry
through Lord Howe.
" I remember," continues Mr. Jefferson, " that Lord
North's answers were dry, unyielding in the spirit of un-
conditional submission, and betrayed an absolute indiffer-
ence to the occurrence of a rupture, and he said to the
mediators, at last, that • a rebellion was not to be depre-
cated on the part of Great Britain ; that the confiscations
it would produce would provide for many of their friends.'"
" This expression was reported by the mediators to Frank-
lin. and indicated so cool and calculated a purpose in the
ministry as to render compromise hopeless, and the nego-
tiation was discontinued.
"If this is not among the papers published, we ask what
has become of it? I delivered it with my own hands into
those of Temple Franklin. It certainly established views
60 atrocious in the British government that its suppression
57
would, to them, be worth a great price. But could the
grandson of Dr. Franklin be, in such degree, an accom-
plice in the parricide of the memory of his immortal
grandfather.? The suspension for more than twenty
years of the general publication bequeathed and confided
to him, produced for a while, hard suspicions against
him ; and if, at last, all are not published, a part of these
suspicions may remain with some."*
Now it is very certain that no such language or senti-
ment is to be found in the " account of negotiations in
London for effecting a reconciliation between Great
Britain and the American Colonies," as first published
by Wm. Temple Franklin, in 1S17, and republished by
Mr. Sparks in the 5th Vol. of his collection of the writings
of Franklin.
As there can be no ground for questioning Mr. Jeffer-
son's testimony on this point, we are forced to the con-
clusion that the passage in question was suppressed.
And why should we doubt it with the evidence before
us, in his treatment of the autobiography, that he was not
restrained from mutilating his grandfather's works by
respect either for his genius or his fume?
The theory of Mr. Sparks in regard to William Temple
Franklin's delay in pul)lishing his grandfather's works is,
no doubt, correct so far as it goes. There can be no ques-
tion with any person cognizant of the state of feeling which
prevailed at the time in England toward the revolted Col-
onies, that the publication of an elaborate edition of Frank-
lin's works would have been unacceptable to the governing
classes ; nor can there be much doubt that such a publica-
* Jefferson's Works, Vol. I., Washington Edition.
c*
58
tion would have had a tendency to compromise William
Franklin with the government, and put his pension in
peril. When it is further considered that William Frank-
lin not only had no sympathy with the republican cause
in America, but did all he could to betray it, and thus
entitled himself to the pension upon which he lived, it
may safely be inferred that he exerted what influence he
possessed over his son, not only to defer the publication,
but to unsettle his son's faith in the value and stability of
the political fabric which their common ancestor had had
such an important agency in erecting. And it is also to
be borne in mind, that any representations of that nature
which the father might make would have fallen upon the
son's mind in a state not wholly unprepared to give it
hospitality. Both he and his grandfather thought he had
been treated ungraciously by our governmant, from which
he had been educated to expect some diplomatic appoint-
ment. Immediately after his grandfather's death he left
the United States under a feeling of disappointment, if
not of disgust, at their ingratitude, and never returned.
He bore with him in his trunk a manuscript property
which could be turned to considerable account in two
ways — either by printing it or by suppressing it. The
course that he finally took was one which enabled him, if
he cliosc, to take the benefit of both modes of procedure.
He delayed the publication until it could no longer work
any prejudice to him or his, and then found for it, doubt-
less, at last as propitious a market as he could have hoped
for had he published earlier.
Whether he did profit by this delay, and if so, in what
way and to what extent, will probably never be known
with absolute certaintv- Every one's conclusions will be
59
more or less aflected by their knowledge of his character,
habits and necessities. There is a paragraph in one of
his letters already cited, which must henceforth be weighed
in deciding this question. He wrote to M. le Veillard
from London on the 14th of June, 1791 :
" I am much distressed, my dear friend, at what you
say you suffer from my not arriving in Paris. I have
been wishing to be there as much as you could wish to
see me, but I could not possibly think of leaving this
while a business I had undertaken was pending, for which
I rec'd a salary ; and which, being now completed, affords
me a profit of seven thousand pounds sterlingl This,
my dear friend, has hitherto kept me here — having only
been finally terminated on the nth inst. I am in hopes
you will think my excuse for staying till it was done a
good one. I have now only some few arrangements to
make in consequence of my success, and shall undoubt-
edly be with you before the conclusion of this month."
When this was written. Dr. Franklin had been dead
but about a year ; the writer had been in London barely
six months. He never pretended in his correspondence
before to have any other business there than to edit his
grandfather's works ; he suddenly engages himself upon a
salary ; in less than six months finishes his business, and
pockets a profit of £7000, or say $35,000. While earn-
ing this handsome sum he was apparently a free man,
constantly writing to M. le Veillard that he was expect-
ing to go in a few days or weeks to Paris, being only
detained in London to finish his book. It is not easy to
imagine any salaried employment, especially such a profit-
able one as tliis seemed to be, which imposed so slight a
restraint upon the movements of its beneficiary.
6o
From whatever source this JE7000 came, and however
little or much the acquisition of it had to do with tl.e
delay in the publication of his grandfather's works, it is
certainly to be regretted that so little is known of the
business engagement which was entered into so suddenly,
was of such brief duration, and yet yielded such generous
profits. Cabanis* tells us, that when William Franklin
asked of the Court of St. James the governorship of one
of the colonies t — a favor by which he became unfor-
tunately bound to the Loyalist party — Franklin said to
him : " Think what this whistle will some day cost you.
Why not rather be a carpenter or a ploughman, if the
fortune I leave you prove insufficient.'' The man who
works for his living is at least independent. But," added
he, in telling us this story, " the young man was infatu-
ated with the ' Excellency.* He was ashamed to resemble
his father."
It is not impossible that the grandson, after residing
a while in London, succumbed to a similar weakness.
In the very year that the edition of William Temple
Franklin made its appearance, a collection of Franklin'^
correspondence was compiled and published in Paris, Iq
2 vols., by M. Charles Malo.j The Preface of this boOg
C(
r
* CEuvres de Cabanis, vol. v. p. 223. t New Jersey. [
} Correspondance inedite et secrete de Docteur B. Franklin, Minist"' j,
Plenipotentiaire des Etats-Unis d'Amerique pres la Cour de Fraidc
depuis I'annee 1753 jusqu'en 1790, offrant, en trois parties completes,*
bien distinctes, "
1°. Les Memoires de sa Vie privee ;
2°. Les causes premieres de la Revolution d'Amerique ;
3°. L'Histoire des diverses negociations entre I'Angletene, la Frace
et les Etats-Unis, publiee pour la premiere fois en France, avec es
notes, additions, &c. Paris, Janet pere, Libraire Editeur, Rue Sa't-
Jacques, No. 59. MDCCCXVII.
6i
was made the vehicle of a ruthless attack upon William
Temple Franklin and upon his editorial enterprise, which,
coming as it did from a writer of some reputation, meas-
ures the marvelous change which must have taken place
in the feelings of the French people toward him since
he left Paris, to have rendered such an introduction of
his grandfather's works acceptable to them. M. Malo
accuses him of selecting from, abridging and belittling
the works of the Doctor, and concludes with the question :
" Ought we to inherit from one we have assassinated ?"*
* For a translation of this diatribe, see the Appendix, No. II. The
author of it, M. Charles Malo, was a voluminous writer, something of a
poet, and a warm republican. The list of his works alone fills nearly
two pages of Querard. It is not strange that one who published so
much should make some ludicrous blunders, of which several specimens
may be found among the notes with which he endeavored to illumine
the writings of Franklin. In one of his letters Franklin remarks :
"They thought a Yankee was a sort of Yahoo." Upon this M. Malo
remarks :
" Yahoo. — This must be an animal. They pretend it is an opossum ;
but I have not found the word ' Yahoo' in any dictionary of natural
history."
Again, in a letter to Buffon, Franklin wrote that he had escaped
obesity by eating moderately, drinking neither wine nor cider, and it^
exercising himself daily with dumb-bells. M. Malo instructs his coun-
trymen that " this term dumb-bell expresses among the English the
motion a person seated makes in moving back and forth only the upp<5r
part of his body."
In one instance M. Malo presumed to act as a censor upon Dr.
Franklin himself. In a letter of the Doctor's, he had quoted with a sort
c.f humorous approval the following lines from an old song :
"Wuh a courage undaunted may I face my last day.
And whan I am gone may the better sort say.
In the morning when sober, in the evening when mellow :
He is gone, and has not left behind him his fellow;
For he go\erned his passions."
62
A feeling seems to have prevailed among the French
editors of Franklin's writings that he was ashamed
of his grandfather's humble origin and early employ-
ments.
In the year 1807, there used to appear tri-weekly in
Paris, and three columns to the page, a sort of embryo
Galignani called The Argus or London Review in
Paris. On the 28th of March of that year, under the
heading of New York, 8th September, there appeared
on the editorial page and in editorial type a review of
Johnson's three-volume English edition of Dr. Franklin's
works. The article was credited to the American Citizen^
a journal then printed in New York, and was followed by
an extract from the preface. The two pieces fill a column
of the Argus.
The spirit of the article may be inferred from the fol-
lowing passage :
" William Temple Franklin, without shame, without
remorse, mean and mercenary, sold the sacred deposit,
committed to his care by Dr. Franklin, to the British
government. Franklin's works are therefore lost to the
world."
In the next succeeding number of the Argus, March
31st, appeared the following:
M. Malo remarks upon this couplet : " I have not translated the third
line literally, for it did not seem to me in very good taste to desire to be
praised by honest people, who are sober in the morning and drunk in
the evening." So he translated the verse as follows :
" Puisse je avec courage voir arriver mon dernier jour ; et quand je
ne serai plus, puissent les gens vertueux repeter souvent, ' il est mort, et
n'a pas laisse son pareil au monde ! Car il avait sur ses passions un
pouvoir absolu.' "
63
Tuesday y 3 1 March, 1807.
Dr. Franklin : — Mr. William Temple Franklin,
now in Paris, has just written to us the following letter,
in order to vindicate his character from the foul expres-
sions thrown out against him, in an article inserted in the
last number of the Argus, extracted from the A?nerican
Citizen. We publish this letter with tlie greater pleasure
as it contains a full and satisfactory answer to the calum-
nies circulated on his conduct and announces sentiments
worthy of the celebrated name he bears ; at the same time
that it gives the public the hope of seeing a genuine edi-
tion of the works of Dr. Franklin more conformable to
the intentions and liberal principles of the author.
To the editor of the Argus.
Paris, Saturday, 28 March, 1807.
Sir : — In the Argus of this day I have read with equal
indignation and surprise, the unfounded and illiberal
attack made on my character, as well as the numerous
falsehoods contained in extracts from an American paper
and in the preface of a book which appears to be lately
published in London, under the specious title of " The
Works of Dr. Franklin," my worthy grandfather.
To those acquainted with me I flatter myself no justifi-
cation is necessary to prove the falsehood of such unsup-
ported assertions and insinuations, as base as they respect
me, as they are ridiculous in regard to the British govern-
ment. But out of respect to public opinion, to the name
I bear, and to those who honor me with their friendship,!
feel it incumbent on me thus publicly and solemnly to
declare in answer to the libel in question :
1st. That it is false, as asserted, that I had my grand-
64
father's " directions to publish the entire of his works ;"
he left them to my discretion in this respect, as well as to
the period of publication ; no one has any right to interfere
therewith.
2d. It is most atrociously false, as boldly and shame-
fully asserted without even the attempt to prove it, that I
sold my grandfather's manuscripts or any part of them to
the British government ; or that any attempt, either direct
or indirect, was made by that government or their agents
to suppress the publication of the whole or any part
thereof.
3d. That the said original manuscripts, with the copy
prepared for the press, are now and have been long since
deposited by me under lock and key in the secure vaults
of my bankers, Herries, Farquhar & Co., London ; they
will therefore not be lost to the world as maliciously as-
serted from interested motives, as will appear at a future
and I hope early period.
4th. That previous to my leaving London I repeatedly
offered to dispose of the copyright of my grandfother's
manuscripts to some of the most eminent printers there,
and that on very reasonable terms — not for " several thou-
sand pounds" as ridiculously set forth. They not only
refused to publish, but even to undertake the printing,
publishing, etc., at their sole risk, giving for reason that
the period was not propitious for a publication of that
nature, owing to the state of affairs in Europe, which oc-
cupied solely the public attention, so that a work of any
magnitude, not immediately connected with public affairs,
would not sell ; and that they had lost by all their late
purchases of copyright of great works, even of the most
celebrated writers of modern times.
65
5th. That the affairs of Europe remaining in the same
unsettled state, and the public mind continuing to be
wholly interested therein, have alone influenced my not
bringing forward a work which, to do it with propriety
and becoming splendor in honor to my much revered
ancestor's memory, would be attended with very consider-
able expense and a very uncertain success in such mo-
mentous times.*
I have now, sir, replied to the various heads of malevo-
lent and interested accusation brought forward against
me ; and I hope I have justified my character in as satis-
factory a manner as it is possible against accusations and
insinuations without even a shadow of proof, nay even of
probability, to support them. It is easy to accuse, not
always to defend. But I hope, sir, you will show your
justice and impartiality by inserting this letter in your
next Argus as an antidote to the poison contained in the
former one, as far as respects the character of your hum-
ble servant,
William Temple Franklin.
It is certainly a little remarkable ist. That so large a
portion of the available space of a small and obscure Paris
newspaper, devoted mainly to the European affairs of those
momentous times, should be given to a New York criticism
of an English book ; a criticism written in September, 1806,
and which by March, 1807, had certainly lost much of its
novelty.
2d. That William Temple Franklin, instead of present-
ing his defence against these foul aspersions, in one of
the two countries where they had been circulated and
* Sic in original.
6»
66
were most damaging to his character, should have pre-
ferred an organ not one note of which was likely to reach
England or America or any considerable number in
France.
3d. In this letter, while stoutly denying any collusion
with the British government for the suppression of his
grandfother's papers, he assigns as a reason for his delay
in giving them to the v»forld, that he could not aflbrd to
publish them at his own expense, and no publisher in
London would take them on other conditions. But how
can the plea for delay here preferred, be reconciled with
the philanthropic motive for inaction set up in his preface
to the edition of his grandfather's works, which he finally
published ten years later, and in which he says that to
have committed them sooner to the press " would have
been much more to his pecuniary advantage.?"
Whatever impression this letter may have upon the
mind of the reader of to-day, it is certain that it did not
shake the general conviction of William Temple's con-
temporaries that he had yielded to influences anything
but friendly to the memory of his grandfather or honor-
able to himself.
III.
The autograph Memoirs fill 220 pages of foolscap,
■written both sides of the page. A margin of half its
width was left on each page for such additions and cor-
rections as the autobiographer might have occasion to
make at a future day. Of this margin the Doctor took
frequent advantage. He had such a clear and distinct
67
chirography that all the MS. is legible, though abound
iiig with interlineations and erasures. The last eight
pages only, betray what Cicero terms the vacillantibus
litterulis of age and infirmity, though they also are per-
fectly legible. They must have been written in the Doc-
tor's eighty-fourth year, and in the intervals of those in-
tense pains with which the latter days of his life were
tortured.
The MS. came into my possession half bound in I'ed
morocco, with a memorandum, which has already been
cited, inscribed on fly-leaves in French and in English.
As a part of the history of this manuscript, it is proper
that I should add the following memorandum, furnished
me in French by M. de Senarmont himself:
" Note on the autograph majtuscript of the Memoirs of
Benjamin Franklin.
"The manuscript of the Memoirs of Franklin is a folio
of 220 pages, written with a half page margin on paper
not of uniform size.
" M. le Veillard, gentleman in ordinary of the king,
and Mayor of Fassy, was an intimate friend of Dr. Frank-
lin. He had lived in daily intercourse with him at Passy,
near Paris, during the Doctor's residence in France, at
the epoch of the American War of Independence. At
the departure of his friend, he accompanied him to the
ship on which Franklin embarked for America, and it
was from his own countrv that the Doctor sent him, as a
token of his friendship, the copy of his Memoirs, subse-
quently exchanged for the original.
" The original manuscript is unique. Mr. William
68
Temple Franklin, grandson of Benjamin Franklin, re-
ceived it at the death of his grandfather, who had left
him all his writings. When William Temple returned
to France to prepare the edition which he published, he
requested of Madame le Veillard her copy to print from
because it appeared more convenient for the printer, on
account of its neatness. He gave to Mad. le Veillard in
exchange the original manuscript entirely written by the
hand of Franklin.
" The original was, however, more complete than the
copy, which Mr. Temple had not verified. Proof of this
may "be found in the second volume of the small edition
of the Memoirs, in two volumes in i8mo., published by
Jules Renouard, at Paris, in 1828. One may there read,
at the commencement of a continuation which then ap-
peared for the first time, a note, page i, where the editor
states that this continuation was communicated to them
by the Le Veillard family.*
" The simple inspection demonstrates the authenticity
of the manuscript, in support of which may be furnished
other positive proofs, drawn from the different pieces ac-
companying it, such as —
* The note here referred to, translated, reads as follows : " We pub-
lish for the first time this piece, which had never been published in
English or French. It is translated from the original manuscript which
served for the English edition which William Temple Franklin pub-
lished in 1818, of the Memoirs of his grandfather. This manuscript
belongs to the family of M. le Veillard, an intimate friend of Franklin,
ana we owe the communication of it to M. de S., one of the members
of this honorable family."
The M. de S. here referred to, I presume, was the father of the M.
P. de Senarmont from whom I received the Memoirs and the r.iemo
randum now under the reader's eye.
69
'• The three letters of Dr. Franklin to M. le Veillard ;
three letters from Mr. William Temple to the same ; and
various letters from Benjamin Franklin Bache, Sarah
Bache, his wife,* and from a bookseller who wished to
purchase the manuscript of M. le Veillard in I'jgi-t
" M. le Veillard, who is the author of the French trans-
lation of the Memoirs of Franklin, J has preserved tl.e
autograph manuscript, with a sentiment corresponding
with that which determined his friend to send him the
MS. copy.
" After the death of M. le Veillard, who perished on
the Revolutionary scaffold in i794? tlic MS. went to his
* Sarah Bache was the mother, not the wife, of Benj. F. Bache.
t The bookseller here referred to is Buisson, who published the first
edition of the Memoirs, in French, in 1791. His note reads as follows :
Sir : — I learn that you have manuscripts relating to the life of Dr.
Franklin. If it is your intention to dispose of them, I offer to become
iheir purchaser,
I have the honor to be, sir,
Your humble and obedient servant,
Buisson,
Bookseller, Rue Hautefeuille, No. 2.
I want a word of reply, if you please.
Paris, 26 yune, 1791.
What reply was made to this application will probably never be known.
That the MS. was not sold is certain, for we know it was afterward ex-
••hanged for the autograph.
On the other hand, M. le Veillard, in his note to the yournal de Paris,
quoted above, distinctly says that he not only had nothing to do with the
translation, but did not know how the translator had been able to pro-
cure the manuscript from which to make it.
X M. de Senarmont is evidently in error in attributing the French
translation that was printed in 1791 to M. le Veillard. M. le Veillard
made a translation ; but it must have been printed subsequently, if at
aU. See note to page 43.
70
daughter. At her death, in 1834, ^^ became the property
of her cousin, M. de Senarmont, whose grandson de-
livered it, on the 26th January, 1867, to Mr. John Bigelow,
late Minister of the United States at Paris.
"The manuscript is accompanied by a beautiful portrait
in pastel by Duplessis. Franklin sat for this portrait
during his sojourn at Passy, and presented it himself to
M. le Veillard.
" (Signed) L. de Senarmont.
"Paris, 17//^ January^ 1867."
In addition to the continuation of the Memoirs which
was overlooked by William Temple Franklin, already
referred to, I was so fortunate as to find in the Le Veil-
lai'd collection a skeleton sketch of the topics which Dr.
Franklin originally proposed to treat in the Autobiog-
raphy. It was, doubtless, the first outline of the work.
It is written upon a letter sheet, the first three pages in
black ink and in the hand of a copyist, while the continu-
ation of seven lines on the fourth page, beginning with
" Hutchinson's Letters," are in red ink, and in the hand
of Franklin himself.
A line is drawn with a pen through the middle of the
first page of the manuscript down to the words : " Li'
brary erected — manner of conducting^ the project — its
plati and utility." As these are the topics which con-
clude the first part of the Memoirs, terminating at page
87 of the manuscript, the line was probably drawn by
Franklin when he had reached that stage of his work, that
he might the more easily know with what topic to resume
it when he should have occasion to do so.
I give this Outline as an introduction to the Memoirs.
It will be found extremely interesting, first, as showiii*^
liow systematically Franklin set about the execution of
the task of which these Memoirs are the result; and,
secondly, for the notions it gives us of the unexecuted
portion of his plan.*
The printed manuscript ends with his departure to Eng-
land as agent of the Colony of Pennsylvania, to settle the
disputes about the proprietary taxes in i757» while the
Outline comes down to the conclusion of his diplomatic
career, of course embracing the most interesting portion of
his life.
This volume is embellished by a portrait of Franklin,
engraved from the pastel by Duplessis in the Le Veillard
Collection. Franklin sat for it to Duplessis in 1783, and
presented it to his friend, Le Veillard. At the bottom of
the old gilt frame, in front, is the following inscriptio»
upon the frame :
"BENJAMIN FRANKLIN,
«A 77 ANS,
« Peint par y* S^ Duplessis^
« 1783-
« Donnd par Franklin lui-meme."
On the back is the following memorandum, placed
there, doubtless, by M. le Veillard :
* The glimpse given in this Outline of Franklin's habits of composi-
tion tempts me to refer the reader to an extract from a letter which Dr.
Franklin wrote to Mr. Vaughan in 1789, in which, at Mr. Vaughan's
request, he gives him some counsel on the subject of his style. Wh^
he says will help the reader to comprehend the uses for which th"
line referred to in the text was prepared. See vol. iii., p. 440.
72
Benjamin Franklin, a T] ans ; peint en 1783 par Duplessis ;
donne par Franklin lui-meme a M. Louis le Veillard, gentil-
homme ordinaire de la Reine, son ami et son voisin a Passy.
Joseph Siffred Duplessis, Academician, neaCharpentray, s'est
distingue par une belle intelligence, les effets de la lumiere sur
les chairs et accessoires, un pinceau large, bien senti, et un
coloris vrai. Les personnages de distinction dans ses portraits
sont poses avec noblesse et dans des attitudes bien choisies. II
a peint le portrait de Louis XVL, ceux de M. et Mme. Necker,
et de plusieurs grands de la Cour. — Les trois siecles de la
peinture la France, par Gault de St. Germain. 1808. — Swiback,
I'eleve le plus distingue de Duplessis, a surpasse son maitre.
I do not know that I can more appropriately conclude
this bibliographical summary than by quoting a few pas-
sages from the introduction to the Memoirs of Franklin by
Professor Edward Laboulaye, which appeared in Paris
in 1866.* The translation of the Memoirs and corre-
spondence of Franklin was one of the many ways by
which this distinguished jurist contributed, during our
late struggle for the presei-vation of our Federal Union, to
keep alive in France that friendship for the United States
which Franklin, more than any other one person, had the
merit of inspiring, and to which, for the second time,
we have been largely beholden for our national exist-
ence :
" What constitutes the charm of the Memoirs is not the
recital of events, which are of the most ordinary charac-
ter ; it is the reflections which accompany their recital.
* Memoires de Benjamin Franklin, ecrits par lui-meme, traduits de
I'Anglais et annotes par Edouard Laboulaye, de Flnstitut de France.
' -'s, IJbraire de L. Hachette & Cie. 1866.
73
Franklin is a born moralist. The first letter he writes to
his sister is a sermon on the virtues of a good house-
keeper. The penitent is fifteen and the preacher twenty.
From this moment to his death Franklin did not change.
He is always the man who reasons out his conduct — the
sage who, following the ingenious definition of Mr. Ban-
croft, never said a word too soon nor a word too late.
He never said a word too much, nor failed to say the
decisive word at the proper moment. In his letters how
many moral lessons, given with as much gayety as power !
It is not an author one reads ; he is a friend to whom one
listens. There is Franklin, with his venerable face, his
hair floating back, and his eye always shrev/d and quick,
presenting altogether one of the most amiable figures of
the last century. How many prejudices he playfully dis-
sipated ! how he rallied the selfishness of individuals and
the artifices of governments, which are but another form
of selfishness ! Do not ask of him anything sublime, nor
expect from him those bursts which raise you above the
passing world. Franklin never quits the earth ; it is not
genius in him ; it is good sense expressed in its highest
power. Do not seek in him a poet, nor even an orator,
but a master of practical life — a man to whom the world
belongs. Neither imagine you have to do with a vulgar,
worldly wisdom. This amiable mocker, who laughs at
everything, is not the less kind-hearted, a devoted patriot,
and one of the sincerest friends of humanity. His laugh
is not that of Voltaire ; there is no bitterness in it ; it is
the benevolent smile of an old man whom life has taught
to be indulgent. In noting without vanity what he terms
his errata of conduct, Franklin teaches us that no one
has a right to judge another severely, and that in the
7 D
74
most correct life there is always many a page to correct.
It is thus that he humbles himself to us to encourasre us.
He is a companion who takes us by the hand, and, talking
with us familiarly, little by little, makes us blush at our
weaknesses, and communicates to us something of his
warmth and goodness. Such are the effects wrought by
'^erasing the Memoirs, and still more by the correspond-
ence — most strengthening reading for all ages and condi-
tions. No one ever started from a lower point than the
poor apprentice of Boston. No one ever raised himself
higher by his own unaided forces than the inventor of
the lightning-rod. No one has rendered greater service
to his country than the diplomatist who signed the treaty
of 17S3, and assured the independence of the United
States. Better than the biographies of Plutarch, this
life, so long and so well filled, is a source of perpetual
instruction to all men. Every one can there find counsel
and example. * * * * Franklin has never played
a part — neither with others nor with himself. He says
what he thinks ; he does what he says. He knows but
one road which leads from destitution to fortune. He
knows of but one mode to arrive at happiness, or, at least,
to contentment ; it is by labor, economy, and probity.
Such is the receipt he gives to his readers ; but this
receipt he commenced by trying himself. We can believe
in a secret with which he himself succeeded. In oui
democratic society, where every one seeks to better his
condition — a very legitimate purpose — nothing is worth
so much as the example and the lessons of a man who,
without influence and without fortune, became master
after having been a laborer — gave himself the education
which he lacked, and, by force of toil, privations and
75
courage, raised himself to the first rank in his country,
and conquered the admiration and respect of the human
race. To have the talent of FrankHn, or to be favored as
he w^as by events, is not given to all ; but every one may
have the honor of following such a model, even without
the hope of reaching it."
In submitting these memoirs to the world I am encour-
aged by the reflection that there never was a time in the
history of our country when the lessons of humility, econ-
omy, industry, toleration, charity, and patriotism, which
are made so captivating in its pages, could be studied
with more profit by the rising generation of Americans
than now. They have burdens to bear unknown to their
ancestors, and problems of government to solve unknown
to history. All the qualities, moral and intellectual, that
are requisite for a successful encounter with these por-
tentous responsibilities were singularly united in the cha-
racter of Franklin, and nothing in our literature is so well
calculated to reproduce them as his own deliberate record
of the manner in which he laid the foundation at once of
his own and of his country's greatness.
All the notes to the autobiography proper, not credited
to other sources, are from the manuscript, and, of course,
in Franklin's handwriting.
All the notes signed " Ed." are by the Editor.
Those signed " W. T. F." are by William Temple
Franklin.
Those signed " S." or " Sparks," are from Dr. Sparks'
precious Collection of the Writings of Franklin.
Those signed " B. V." are by Benjamin Vaughan.
7^
I have rigorously followed the orthography of the MS. ;
not that I attach much importance to this comparatively
mechanical feature of the work, but because I thought it
would be more satisfactory to most of my readers to know
how Franklin wrote his autobiography than to know how
it would have been written by Webster or Worcester.
JOHN BIGELOW.
The Squirrels, February 22, 1874.
PART I.
\CcJ>te d''un Projit ires Curieux de Benjajnin Franklin — i""
Esquisse de ses Me/noires. Les additiotis d Pettcre rou^e
sont de la maiti de Franklin.~\^ *
My writing. Mrs. Dogood's letters. Differences arise between my
Brother and me (his temper and mine) ; their cause in general. His
Newspaper. The Prosecution he suffered. My Examination. Vote
of Assembly. His manner of evading it. Whereby I became free. My
attempt to get employ with other Printers. He prevents me. Our fre-
quent pleadings before our Father. The final Breach. My Induce-
ments to quit Boston. Manner of coming to a Resolution. My leaving
him and going to New York (return to eating flesh) ; thence to Penn-
sylvania. The journey, and its events on the Bay, at Amboy. The roid.
Meet with Dr. Brown. His character. His great work. At Burlington,
The Good Woman. On the River. My Arrival at Philadelphia. First
Meal and first Sleep. Money left. Employment. Lodging. First ac-
quaintance with my afterward Wife. With J. Ralph. With Keimer.
Their characters. Osborne. Watson. The Governor takes notice of
me. The Occasion and Manner. His character. Offers to set me up.
My return to Boston. Voyage and accidents. Reception. My Father
dislikes the proposal. I return to New York and Philadelphia. Gov-
ernor Burnet. J. Collins. The Money for Vernon. The Governor's
Deceit Collins not finding employment goes to Barbados much in my
• This memorandum, probably in the handwriting of M. le Veillard, immediately
precedes the Outline in the MS.
7» 77
78
Debt Ralph and I go to England. Disappointment of Governor s
Letters. Colonel French his Friend. Coniwallis's Letters. Cabbin.
Denhani- Hamilton. Arrival in England. Get employment Ralph
not He is an expense to me. Adventures in England. Write a Pam-
phlet and print lOO. Schemes. Lyons. Dr. Pemberton. My diligence,
and yet poor through Ralph. My Landlady. Her character. Wygate.
Wilkes. Gibber. Plays. Books I borrowed. Preachers I heard.
Redmayne. At Watts's. Temperance. Ghost Conduct and Influ-
ence among the Men. Persuaded by Mr. Denham to return with him
to Philadelphia and be his clerk. Our voyage and arrival. My resolu-
tions in Writing. My Sickness. His Death. Found D. R. married.
Go to work again with Keimer. Terms. His ill usage of me. My
Resentment Saying of Decow. My Friends at Burlington. Agree-
ment with H. Meredith to set up in Partnership. Do so. Success with
the Assembly. Hamilton's Friendship. Sewell's Historj'. Gazette.
Paper money. Webb. Writing Busy Body. Breintnal. Godfrey. His
Character. Suit against us. Offer of my Friends, Coleman and Grace.
Continue the Business, and M. goes to Carolina. Pamphlet on Paper
Money. Gazette from Keimer. Junto credit ; its plan. Marry. Li-
brary erected. Manner of conducting the project Its plan and utility.
Children. Almanac. The use I made of it Great industry. Constant
study. Father's Remark and Advice upon Diligence. Carolina Part-
nership. Learn French and German. Journey to Boston after ten years.
Affection of my Brother. His Death, and leaving me his Son. Art of
Virtue. Occasion. City Watch amended. Post-office. Spotswood.
Bradford's Behavior. Clerk of Assembly. Lose one of my Sons. Pro-
ject of subordinate Juntos. Write occasionally in the papers. Success
in Business. Fire companies. Engines. Go again to Boston in 1743.
See Dr. Spence. Whitefield. My connection with him. His generosity
to me. My returns. Church Differences. My part in them. Propose
a College. Not then prosecuted. Propose and establish a Philosophical
Society. War. Electricity. My first knowledge of it. Partnership
with D. Hall, &c Dispute in Assembly upon Defence. Project for it
Plain Truth. Its success. Ten thousand Men raised and disciplined.
Lotteries. Battery built New Castle. My influence in the Council.
Colors, Devices, and Mottos. Ladies' Military Watch. Quakers chosen
of the Common Council. Put in the commission of the peace. Logan
fond of me. His Library. Appointed Postmaster-General. Chosen
Assemblyman. Commissioner to treat with Indians at Carlisle and at
Easton. Project and establish Academy. Pamphlet on it Journey to
Boston. At Albany. Plan of union of the colonies. Copy of it Re-
79
marks upon it. It fails, and liow. Journey to Boston in 1754. Dis-
putes about it in our Assemtily. My part in them. New Governor.
Disputes with iiim. His character and sayings to me. Chosen Alder-
man. Project of Hospital. My share in it. Its success. Boxes. Made
a Commissioner of the Treasury. My commission to defend the fiontier
counties. Raise Men and build Forts. Militia Law of my drawing.
Made Colonel. Parade of my Officers. Offence to Proprietor. Assist-
ance to Boston Ambassadors. Journey with Shirley, &c. Meet with
Braddock. Assistance to him. To the Officers of his Army. Furnish
him with Forage. His concessions to me and character of me. Success
of my Electrical Experiments. Medal sent me. Present Royal Society,
and Speech of President. Denny's Arrival and Courtship to me. His
character. My service to the Army in the affair of Quarters. Disputes
about the Proprietor's Taxes continued. Project for paving the City.
I am sent to England. Negotiation there. Canada deleiula est. My
Pamphlet. Its reception and effect. Projects drawn from me concern-
ing the Conquest. Acquaintance made and their services to me — Mrs.
S. M. Small, Sir John P., Mr. Wood, Sargent Strahan, and others.
Their characters. Doctorate from Edinburgh, St. Andrew's. Doctorate
from Oxford. Journey to Scotland. Lord Leicester. Mr. Prat. De
Grey. Jackson. State of Affairs in England. Delays. Eventful Journey
into Holland and Flanders. Agency from Maryland. Son's appoint-
ment. My Return. Allowance and thanks. Journey to Boston. John
Penn, Governor. My conduct toward him. The Paxton Murders. My
Pamphlet. Rioters march to Philadelphia. Governor retires to my
House. My conduct. Sent out to the Insurgents. Turn them back.
Little thanks. Disputes revived. Resolutions against continuing under
Proprietary Government. Another Pamphlet Cool thoughts. Sent
again to England with Petition. Negotiation there. Lord H. His
character. Agencies from New Jersey, Georgia, Massachusetts. Jour-
ney into Germany, 1766. Civilities received there. Gottingen Obser-
vations. Ditto into France in 1767. Ditto in 1769. Entertainment
there at the Academy. Introduced to the King and the Mesdames,
Mad. Victoria and Mrs. Lamagnon. Due de Chaulnes, M. Beaumont,
Le Roy, D'Alibard, NolleL See Journals. Holland. Reprint my
papers and add many. Books presented to me from many authors. My
Book translated into French. Lightning Kite. Various Discoveries.
My manner of prosecuting that Study. King of Denmark invites me
to dinner. Recollect my Father's Proverb. Stamp Act. My opposition
to it. Recommendation of J. Hughes. Amendment of it. Examina-
tion in Parliament. Reputation it gave me. Caressed by Ministry.
8o
Charles Townsend's Act. Opposition to it. Stoves and chimney-plates.
Armonica. Acquaintance with Ambassadors. Russian Intimatioa
Writing in newspapers. Glasses from Germany. Grant of Land in
Nova Scotia. Sicknesses. Letters to America returned hither. The
consequences. Insurance Office. My character. Costs me nothing to
be civil to inferiors ; a good deal to be submissive to superiors, &c., &c.
Farce of Perpetual Motion. Writing for Jersey Assembly. Hutchin-
son's Letters. Temple. Suit in Chancery. Abuse before the Privy
Council. Lord Hillsborough's character and conduct Lord Dart-
mouth. Negotiation to prevent the War. Return to America. Bishop
of St Asaph. Congress. Assembly. Committee of Safety. Chevaux-
de-frise. Sent to Boston, to the Camp. To Canada, to Lord Howe.
To France. Treaty, &c.
The Autobiography.
TwYFORD, at the Bishop of St. Asaph's* 1771.
DEAR SON : I have ever had pleasure in ob-
taining any little anecdotes of my ancestors.
You may remember the inquiries I made among the
remains of my relations when you were with me in
England, and the journey I undertook for that pur-
pose. Imagining it may be equally agreeable tof
you to know the circumstances of my life, many of
which you are yet unacquainted with, and expecting
the enjoyment of a week's uninterrupted leisure in
my present country retirement, I sit down to write
them for you. To which I have besides some other
inducements. Having emerged from the poverty
and obscurity in which I was born and bred, to a
state of affluence and some degree of reputation in
the world, and having gone so far through life with
a considerable share of felicity, the conducing means
1 made use of, which with the blessing of God so
* The country-seat of Bishop Shipley, the good bishop, as Dr.
Franklin used to style him. — Ed.
t After the words " agreeable to " the words " some of " were interlined
and afterward effaced. — Ed.
D* 81
82 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
well succeeded, my posterity may like to know, as
they may find some ot them suitable to their own
situations, and therefore fit to be imitated.
That felicity, when I reflected on it, has induced
me sometimes to say, that were it offered to my
choice, I should have no objection to a repetition of
the same life from its beginning, only asking the
advantages authors have in a second edition to cor-
rect some faults of the first. So I might, besides
correcting the faults, change some sinister accidents
and events of it for others more favorable. But
though this were denied, I should still accept the
offer. Since such a repetition is not to be expected,
the next thing most like living one's life over again
seems to be a recollection of that life, and to make
that recollection as durable as possible by putting it
down in writing.
Hereby, too, I shall indulge the inclination so
natural in old men, to be talking of themselves and
their own past actions ; and I shall indulge it with-
out being tiresome to others, who, through respect to
age, might conceive themselves obliged to give me
a hearing, since this may be read or not as any one
pleases. And, lastly (I may as well confess it,
since my denial of it will be believed by nobody),
perhaps I shall a good deal gratify my own vanity.
Indeed, I scarce ever heard or saw the introductory
\Aords, " Without vanity I may say^'' &c., but some
vain thing immediately followed. Most people dis-
like vanity in others, whatever share they have of
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 83
it themselves ; but I give it fair quarter wherever I
meet with it, being persuaded that it is often pro-
ductive of good to the possessor, and to others that
are w^ithin his sphere of action ; and therefore, in
many cases, it would not be altogether absurd if a
man were to thank God for his vanity among the
other comforts of life.*
* Some twenty years before he commenced his Memoirs, Franklin
threw his mantle over this not unprofitable weakness which he termed
Vanity, in a letter to his friend Jared Elliott :
"Philadelphia, September xzth, 1751.
" Dear Sir :
^F ^F ^^ ^F "^ 1* ^^ ^F
What you mention concerning the love of praise is indeed very true :
it reigns more or less in every heart ; though we are generally hypo-
crites, in that respect, and pretend to disregard praise, and our nice,
modest ears are offended, forsooth ! with what one of the ancients calls
the sweetest khid of music. This hypocrisy is only a sacrifice to the
pride of others, or to their envy, both which, I think, ought rather to
be mortified. The same sacrifice we make when we forbear to praise
ourselves, which naturally we are all inclined to ; and I suppose it was
formerly the fashion, or Virgil, that courtly writer, would not have put
a speech into the mouth of his hero, which now-a-days we should esteem
so great an indecency :
' Sum plus jEneas * • *
* * * fama super jethera notus.'
One of the Romans, I forget who, justified speaking in his own praise
by saying: "Every freeman had a right to speak what he thought of
himself, as well as of others." That this is a natural inclination appears
in that all children show it, and say freely, I am a good boy ; am I not
a good girl ? and the like, till they have been frequently chid, and told
their trumpeter is dead, and that it is unbecoming to sound their o\vn
praise, etc. But
Naturam expellas fiirca, taraen usque recurret.
Being forbid to praise themselves, they learn instead of it to censure
84 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
And now I speak of thanking God, I desire with
all humility to acknowledge that I owe the men-
others, which is only a roundabout way of praising themselves ; for con-
demning the conduct of another, in any particular, amounts to as much
as saying, / am so honest, or wise, or good, or prudent, that / could not
do or approve of such an action. This fondness for ourselves, rather
than malevolence to others, I take to be the general source of censure
and backbiting ; and I wish men had not been taught to dam up natural
currents, to the overflowing and damage of their neighbor's grounds.
Another advantage, methinks, would arise from freely speaking our
good thoughts of ourselves, viz. : if we were wrong in them, somebody
or other would readily set us right ; but now, while we conceal so care-
fully our vain, erroneous self-opinions, we may carry them to our grave,
for who would offer physic to a man that seems to be in health ? And the
privilege of recounting freely our own good actions might be an induce-
ment to the doing of them, that we might be enabled to speak of them
without being subject to be justly contradicted or charged with false-
hood ; whereas now, as we are not allowed to mention them, and it is
an uncertainty whether others will take due notice of them or not, we
are perhaps the more indifferent about them ; so that, upon the whole,
I wish the out-of-fashion practice of praising ourselves would, like other
old fashions, come round into fashion again. But this, / fear, will not be
in our time. So we must even be contented with what little praise we
can get from one another. And I will endeavor to make you some
amends for the trouble of reading this long scrawl by telling you, that I
have the sincerest esteem for you, as an ingenious young man, and a good
one, which, together, make the valuable member of society. As such,
I am with great respect and affection, dear sir,
" Your obliged, humble servant,
" B. Franklin."
There is, perhaps, no more interesting or profitable standard with
which to compare men than the terms in which they speak of them-
selves. The year that Franklin wrote the last pages of his Memoirs,
Gibbon commenced his. It is curious to observe the different styles
in which the diplomatist and the scholar enumerate vanity among the
leading and legitimate motives in which the two most fascinating and
most renowned autobiographies in any language had their origin :
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN 85
tioned happiness of my past life to His kind provi-
dence, which lead me to the means I used and gave
"A lively desire of Icnowing and of recording our ancestors so generally
prevails that it must depend on the influence of some common principle
in the minds of men. We seem to have lived in the persons of our fore-
fathers ; it is the labor and reward of vanity to extend the term of this
ideal longevity. Our imagination is always active to enlarge the narrow
circle in which nature has confined us. Fifty or a hundred years may
be allotted to an individual ; but we step forward beyond death with
such hopes as religion and philosophy will suggest ; and we fill up the
silent vacancy that precedes our birth by associating ourselves to the
authors of our existence. Our calmer judgment will rather tend to
moderate than to suppress the pride of an ancient and worthy race.
The satirist may laugh, the philosopher may preach, but Reason her-
self will respect the prejudices and habits which have been consecrated
by the experience of mankind. Few there are who can sincerely de-
spise in others an advantage of which they are secretly ambitious to
partake. The knowledge of our own family from a remote period will
be always esteemed as an abstract pre-eminence, since it can never be
promiscuously enjoyed ; but the longest series of peasants and mechanics
would not afford much gratification to the pride of their descendant.
We wish to discover our ancestors, but we wish to discover them pos-
sessed of ample fortunes, adorned with honorable titles, and holding an
eminent rank in the class of hereditary nobles, which has been main-
tained for the wisest and most beneficial purposes in almost every cli-
mate of the globe and in almost every modification of political society.
Wherever the distinction of birth is allowed to form a superior order in
the State, education and example should always, and will often, produce
among them a dignity of sentiment and propriety of conduct, which is
guarded from dishonor by their own and tlie public esteem. If we read
of some illustrious line so ancient that it has no beginning, so worthy
that it ought to have no end, we sympathize in its various fortunes ; nor
can we blame the generous enthusiasm, or even the harmless vanity, of
those who are allied to the honors of its name. For my own part, could
I draw my pedigree from a general, a statesman, or a celebrated author,
I should study their lives with the diligence of filial love. In the inves-
tigation of past events, our curiosity is stimulated by the immediate or
indirect reference to ourselves ; but in the estimate of honor we should
learn to value the gifts of nature above those of fortune ; to esteem in
8
S6 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
them success. My belief of this induces me to ho-pe^
though I must not pj'esunic, that the same goodness
our ancestors the qualities that best promote the inteiests of society;
and to pronounce the descendant of a king less truly noble than the off-
spring of a man of genius, whose wTitings will instruct or delight the
latest posterity. The family of Confucius is in my opinion the most
illustrious in the world. After a painful ascent of eight or ten centuries,
our barons and princes of Europe are lost in the darkness of the Middle
Ages ; but in the vast equality of the empire of China the posterity of
Confucius have maintained, above tsvo thousand two hundred years,
their peaceful honors and perpetual succession. The chief of the family
is still revered, by the sovereign and the people, as the lively image of
the wisest of mankind. The nobility of the Spencers has been illus-
trated and enriched by the trophies of Marlborough ; but I exhort them
to consider the Faery Queen* as the most precious jewel of their coronet
Our immortal Fielding was of the younger branch of the Earls of Denbigh,
who draw their origin from the Counts of Hapsburg,the lineal descendants
of Enrico, in the seventh centur}', Duke of Alsace. Far different have
been the fortunes of the English and German divisions of the family of
Hapsburg : the former, the Knights and Sheriffs of Leicestershire, have
slowly risen to the dignity of a peerage ; the latter, the Emperors of Ger-
many and Kings of Spain, have threatened the liberty of the Old, and
invaded the treasures of the New World. The successors of Charles
the Fifth may disdain their brethren of England ; but the romance of
Tom Jones, that exquisite picture of human manners, will outlive the
palace of the Escurial and the imperial eagle of the house of Austria.
That these sentiments are just, or at least natural, I am the more in-
clined to believe as I am not myself interested in the cause ; for I can
derive from my ancestors neither glor\' nor shame. Yet a sincere and
simple narrative of my own life may amuse some of my leisure hours ;
but it will subject me, and perhaps with justice, to the imputation of
vanity. I may judge, however, from the experience both of past and of
the present times, that the public are always curious to know the men
who have left behind them any image of their minds ; the most scantj
■• Nor less praiseworthy are the ladies three.
The honor of that noble familie.
Of which I meanest boast myself to be.
Spenser, Colin Clout, &'c., v. 538.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 87
will still be exercised toward me. in continuing that
happiness, or enabling me to bear a fatal reverse,
accounts of such men are compiled with diligence and perused with
eagerness ; and tiie student of every class may derive a lesson, or an
example, from the lives most similar to his o\mi. My name may here-
after be placed among the thousand articles of a Biographia Britannica ;
and I must be conscious that no one is so well qualified as myself to
describe the series of my thoughts and actions. The authority of my
masters, of the grave Thuanus and the philosophic Hume, might be
sufBcient to justify my design ; but it would not be difficult to pro-
duce a long list of ancients and moderns who, in various forms, have
exhibited their own portraits. Such portraits are often the most in-
teresting, and sometimes the only interesting, parts of their writings ;
and, if they be sincere, we seldom complain of the minuteness or pro-
lixity of these personal memorials. The lives of the younger Pliny, of
Petrarch and of Erasmus, are expressed in the epistles which they
themselves have given to the world ; the essays of Montaigne and Sir
William Temple bring us home to the houses and bosoms of the au-
thors. We smile without contempt at the headstrong passions of Benve-
nuto Cellini and the gay follies of Colley Gibber. The Confessions of
St. Austin and Rousseau disclose the secrets of the human heart ; the
Commentaries of the learned Huet have survived his evangelical demon-
stration ; and the Memoirs of Goldoni are more truly dramatic than his
Italian comedies. The heretic and the churchman are strongly marked
in the characters and fortunes of Whiston and Bishop Newton ; and
even the dullness of Michael de Marolles and Anthony Wood acquires
some value from the faithful representation of men and manners. That
I am equal or superior to some of these, the effects of modesty or affec-
tation cannot force me to dissemble."
Hume, whose account of his own life was written in 1776, the year he
died, and five years after Franklin's was begun, commences and con-
cludes his less pretending story with a similar confession. He com-
mences by saying :
" It is difficult for a man to speak long of himself without vanity ;
therefore I shall be short. It may be thought an instance of vanity that
I pretend at all to write my life ; but this narrative shall contain little
more than the history of my writings, as, indeed, almost all my life has
been spent in literary pursuits and occupations. The first success of
most of my writings was not such as to be an object of vanity."
88 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
which I may experience as others have done ; the
complexion of my future fortune being known to Him
only in whose power it is to bless to us even our
afflictions.
The notes one of my uncles (who had the same
kind of curiosity in collecting family anecdotes) once
put into my hands, furnished me with several par-
ticulars relating to our ancestors. From these notes I
learned that the family had lived in the same vil-
lage, Ecton, in Northamptonshire,* for three hundred
years, and how much longer he knew not (perhaps
from the time when the name of Franklin, that be-
He concludes as follows :
" In a word, though most men anywise eminent have found reason to
complain of calumny, I never was touched, or even attacked by her bale-
ful tooth ; and though I wantonly exposed myself to the rage of both
civil and religious factions, they seemed to be disarmed in my behalf of
their wonted fury. My friends never had occasion to vindicate any one
circumstance of my character and conduct ; not but that the zealots, we
may well suppose, would have been glad to invent and propagate any
story to my disadvantage, but they could never find any which they
thought would wear the face of probability. I cannot say there is no
vanity in making this funeral oration of myself, but I hope it is not a
misplaced one." — Ed.
* Northamptonshire possesses more of a certain kind of interest to the
average American than any other county in England. In the early part
of the seventeenth century, Lawrence Washington resided on the Manor
of Sulgrave, about thirty miles from Ecton. In 1657, John Washington,
one of his descendants, emigrated to Virginia, where he became the
grandfather of George Washington Twenty-five years later, — that is, in
1682, — Josiah Franklin, the father of Benjamin Franklin, also sought a new
home in the Colony of Massachusetts Bay. Thus the ancestors of our
two most illustrious countrymen, and the two most conspicuous instru-
ments in securing our national independence, resided in the same county
in England and within a short ride of each other.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 89
fore was the name of an order of people, was assumed
by them as a surname when others took surnames
all over the kingdom*) , on a freehold of about thirty
acres, aided by the smith's business, which had con-
tinued in the family till his time, the eldest son be-
ing always bred to that business ; a custom which
he and my father followed as to their eldest sons.
When I searched the registers at Ecton, I found an
account of their births, marriages and burials from
the year 1555 only, there being no registers kept in
that parish at any time preceding. By that register
I perceived that I was the youngest son of the
youngest son for five generations back. My grand-
* As a proof that Franklin was anciently the common name of an order
or rank in England, see Judge Fortescue's De Laudibus Legiim AngUce,
written about the year 1412, in which is the following passage, to show
that good juries might easily be formed in any part of England : " Regie
etiam ilia, ita respersa refertaque est possessoribus terrarum et agrorum,
quod in ea, villula tarn parva reperiri non poterit, in qua non est miles,
armiger, vel pater-familias, qualis ibidem Franleri vulgariter nuncupatur,
magnis ditatus possess! oni bus, nee non libere tenentes et alii valecti
plurimi, suis patrimoniis sufficientes ad faciendum juratam, in form4
prxnotata." Moreover, the same country is so filled and replenished
with landed menne, that therein so small a thorpe cannot be found
w herein dweleth not a knight, an esquire, or such an householder, as is
there commonly called a Franklin, enriched with great possessions ; and
also other freeholders and many yeomen able for their livelihoodes to
make a jury in form aforementioned. — Old Traiulation.
Chaucer, too, calls his country gentleman a Franklin, and, after de«
Bijibing his good housekeeping, thus characterizes him :
" This worthy Franklin has a purse of silk,
Fixed to his girdle, white as morning milk.
Knight of the Shire, first Justice at the Assize,
To help the poor, the doubtful to advise.
in all employments, generous, just, he proved.
Renowned for courtesy, by all beloved,"
8»
90 AUTOBIOGRAPin' OF
father Thomas, who was born in 1598, lived at
Ecton till he grew too old to follow business longer,
when he went to live with his son John, a dyer at
Banbury, in Oxfordshire, with whom my father
served an apprenticeship. There my grandfather
died and lies buried. We saw his gravestone in 1758.
His eldest son Thomas lived in the house at Ecton,
and left it with the land to his only child, a daughter,
who, with her husband, one Fisher, of Welling-
borough, sold it to Mr. Isted, now lord of the manor
there. My grandfather had four sons that grew
up, viz. : Thomas, John, Benjamin and Josiah. I
will give you what account I can of them, at this
distance from my papers, and if these are not lost
in my absence, you will among them find many
more particulars.*
* Franklin's father has left the following account of his ancestry in a
letter addressed to his son Benjamin in 1739. Benjamin was then thirty-
three years of age and Deputy Postmaster General at Philadelphia.
'^Fro7n yosiah to B. Franklin :
" Loving Son : As to the original of our name, there is various opin-
ions ; some say that it came from a sort of title, of which a book that
you bought when here gives a lively account. Some think we are of a
Fiench extract, which was formerly called Franks ; some of a free line,
a line free from that vassalage which was common to subjects in days
of old ; some from a bird of long red legs. Your uncle Benjamin made
inquiry of one skilled in heraldry, who told him there is two coats of
armor, one belonging to the Franklins of the North, and one to the
Franklins of the West. However, our circumstances have been such as
that it hath hardly been worth while to concern ourselves much about
these things any farther than to tickle the fancy a little. The first that
I can give account of, is my great-grandfather, as it was a custom in
those days among young men too many times to goe to seek their for-
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 9 1
Thomas was bred a smith under his father ; but,
being ingenious, and encouraged in learning (as all
tunes, and in his travels he went upon liking to a taylor ; but he kept such
a stingy house, that he left him and travelled farther, and came to a
smith's house, and coming on a fasting day, being in popish times, he
did not like there the first day ; the next morning the servant was called up
at five in the morning, but after a little time came a good toast and good
beer, and he found good housekeeping there ; he served and learned the
trade of a smith. In Queen Mary's days, either his wife, or my grand-
mother, by father's side, informed my father that they kept their Bible
fastened under the top of a joint-stool, that they might turn up the
book and read in the Bible, that when anybody came to the dore they
turned up the stool for fear of the aparitor, for if it were discovered they
would be in hazard of their lives. My grandfather was a smith also,
and settled in Eton, in Northamptonshire, and he was imprisoned a
year and a day on suspicion of his being the author of some poetry that
touched the character of some great man. He had only one son and
one daughter ; my grandfather's name was Thomas, my mother's name
was Jane. My father was born at Ecton or Eton, Northamptonshire,
on the iSth of October, 1698; married to Miss Jane White, niece to
Coll. White, of Banbury, and died in the 84th year of his age. There
was nine children of us, who were happy in our parents, who took great
care by their instructions and pious example to breed us up in a religious
way. My eldest brother had but one child, which was married to one
Mr. Fisher, at Wallingborough, in Northamptonshire. The town was
lately burnt down, and whether she was a sufferer or not I cannot tell,
or whether she be living or not. Her father dyed worth fifteen hundred
pounds, but what her circumstances are now I know not. She hath no
child. If you by the freedom of your office, makes it more likely to con-
vey a letter to her, it would be acceptable to me. There is also children
of brother John and sister Morris, but I hear nothing from them, and
they write not to me, so that I know not where to find them. I have
been again to about seeing * * * *, but have mist of being informed.
" We received yours, and are glad to hear poor Jammy is recovered
BO well. Son John received the letter, but is so busy just now that he
cannot write you an answer, but will do the best he can. Now with
hearty love to, and prayer for you all, I rest your affectionate father,
"JosiAH Franklin.
"Boston, May 26, 1739." W. T. F.
92 AUTOBIOGRAPHT OF
my brothers were) by an Esquire Palmer, then the
principal gentleman in that parish, he qualified him-
self for the business of scrivener ; became a con-
siderable man in the county ; was a chief mover of
all public-spirited undertakings for the county or
town of Northampton, and his own village, of which
many instances were related of him ; and much taken
notice of and patronized by the then Lord Halifax.
He died in 1702, January 6, old style, just four years
to a day before I was born. The account we received
of his life and character from some old people at
Ecton, I remember, struck you as something extra-
ordinary, from its similarity to what you knew of
mine. " Had he died on the same day, " you said,
" one might have supposed a transmigration."
John was bred a dyer, I believe of woolens.
Benjamin was bred a silk dyer, serving an appren-
ticeship at London. He was an ingenious man.
I remember him well, for when I was a boy he
came over to my father in Boston, and lived in the
house with us some years. He lived to a great age.
His grandson, Samuel Franklin, now lives in
Boston. He left behind him two quarto volumes,
MS., of his own poetry, consisting of little occa-
sional pieces addressed to his friends and relations,
of which the following, sent to me, is a specimen.*
* Here follow in the margin the words, in brackets, " here insert it,"
but the poetry is not given. Mr. Sparks informs us (Life of Franklin,
p. 6) that these volumes had been preserved, and were in possession of
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 93
He had formed a short-hand of his own, which he
taught me, but, never practising it, I have now for-
got it. I was named after this uncle, there being a
particular affection between him and my father.
Mrs. Emmons, of Boston, great-granddaughter of their author. The
following are specimens quoted by Mr. Sparks :
" Sent to his namesake, upon a Report of his Inclination to Martial
Affairs, July 7th, 1710 :
" Believe me, Ben, it is a dangerous trade,
The sword has many marred as well as made ;
By it do many fall, not many rise,
Makes many poor, few rich, and fewer wise ;
Fills towns with ruin, fields with blood ; beside
'Tis sloth's maintainer, and the shield of pride.
Fair cities, rich to-day in plenty flow,
War fills with want to-morrow, and with woe.
Ruined estates, the nurse of vice, broke limbs and scars.
Are the eflfects of desolating wars."
" ACROSTIC,
" Sent to Benjamin Franklin in New England, July 15th, 17 10:
" Be to thy parents an obedient son ;
Each day let duty constantly be done ;
Never give way to sloth, or lust, or pride,
If fi"ee you'd be fi-om thousand ills beside ;
Above all ills be sure avoid the shelf;
Man's danger lies in Satan, sin, and sel£
In virtue, learning, wisdom, progress make;
Ne'er shrink at suffering for thy Saviour's sake.
" Fraud and all felsehood in thy dealings flee.
Religious always in thy station be ;
Adore the Maker of thy inward part,
Now's the accepted time, give him thy heart ;
Keep a good conscience, 'tis a constant fi-iend ;
Like judge and witness this thy acts attend.
In heart with bended knee, alone, adore
None but the Three in One for evermore."
The following piece was sent when his namesake was seven yeai's old.
" 'Tis time for me to throw aside my pen.
When hanging sleeves read, write, and rhyme like men.
94 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
He was very pious, a great attender of sermons
of the best preachers, which he took down in
his short-hand, and had with him many volumes
of them. He was also much of a politician ; too
much, perhaps, for his station. There fell lately
into my hands, in London, a collection he had made
of all the principal pamphlets relating to public
affairs, from 1641 to 1717 ; many of the volumes are
wanting as appears by the numbering, but there
This forward spring foretells a plenteous crop ;
For if the bud bear grain, what will the top ?
If plenty in the verdant blade appear,
What may we not soon hope for in the ear?
When flowers are beautiful before they're blown.
What rarities will afterward be shown 1
If trees good fi-uit un'noculated bear.
You may be siure 'twill afterward be rare.
If fi-uits are sweet before they're time to yellow.
How luscious will they be when they are mellow !
If first year's shoots such noble clusters send.
What laden boughs, Engedi-like, may we expect in the end 1'
These lines are more prophetic, perhaps, than the writer imagined.
Sparks.
This uncle Benjamin died in Boston, in 1728, leaving one son, Samuel,
the only survivor of ten children. This son had an only child, who died
in 1775, leaving four daughters. There are now no male descendants
of Dr. Franklin's grandfather living who bear his name. The Doctor's
eldest son William left one son, William Temple Franklin, who died
without issue, bearing his name. His second son, Francis Folger, died
when about four years of age. His very clever daughter Sarah married
Richard Bache in 1767. Their descendants are — Benjamin Franklin
Bache, who married Margaret Markoe ; William Hartman Bache, who
married Catharine Wistar ; Eliza Franklin Bache, who married John
Edmund Harwood ; Louis Bache, who married (ist wife) Mary Ann
Swift, (2d wife) Esther Egee ; Deborah Bache, who married William J.
Duane ; Richard Bache, who married Sophia B., a daughter of Alexander
J. Dallas ; Sarah Bache, who married Thomas Sargeant, together with
their children. — Ed.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 95
Still remain eight volumes in folio, and twenty-four
in quarto and in octavo. A dealer in old books met
with them, and knowing me by my sometimes buy-
ing of him, he brought them to me. It seems my
uncle must have left them here when he went to
America, which was above fifty years since. There,
are many of his notes in the margins.*
* The Doctor refers to this trouvaille in one of his letters to Samuel
Franklin, as follows :
" London, 12 July, 1771.
"Loving Cousin : I received your kind letter of May 17th, and re-
joice to hear that you and your good family are well. My love to them.
With this I send you the print you desire for Mr. Bowen. He does me
honor in accepting it. Sally Franklin presents her duty to you and
Mrs. Franklin. Yesterday a very odd accident happened, which I must
mention to you, as it relates to your grandfather. A person that deals
in old books, of whom I sometimes buy, acquainted me that he had a
curious collection of pamphlets bound in eight volumes folio, and twenty-
four volumes quarto and octavo, which he thought from the subjects I
might like to have, and that he would sell them cheap. I desired to
see them, and he brought them to me. On examining, I found that
they contained all the principal pamphlets and papers on public affairs
that had been printed here from the Restoration down to 1 715. In one
of the blank leaves at the beginning of each volume the collector had
written the titles of the pieces contained in it, and the price they cost
him. Also notes in the margin of many of the pieces ; and the collector,
I find, from the handwriting and various other circumstances, was your
grandfather, my uncle Benjamin. Wherefore, I the more readily agreed
to buy them. I suppose he parted with them when he left England and
came to Boston, soon after your father, which was about the year 17 16
or 1 71 7, now more than fifty years since. In whose hands they have
been all this time I know not The oddity is, that the bookseller, who
could suspect nothing of any relation between me and the collector,
should happen to make me the offer of them. My love to your good
wife and children.
" Your affectionate cousin,
—Ed. " B. Franklin,"
96 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
This obscure family of ours was early in the Re-
formation, 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 w^as 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's reign, when some of the
ministers that had been outed for non-conformity
holding conventicles in Northamptonshire, Benja-
min and Josiah adhered to them, and so continued
all their 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 con-
siderable men of his acquaintance to remove to that
country, and he was prevailed with to accompany
them thither, where they expected to enjoy their
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 97
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 mar-
ried ; 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, daugh-
ter 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 '■'■ a godly,
learned Englishman,'' 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,
* He was bom January 6th, 1706, old style, being Sunday, and the
same as January 17th, new style, which his biographers have usually
mentioned as the day of his birth. By the records of the Old South
Church in Boston, to which his father and mother belonged, it appears
that he was baptized the same day. In the old public Register of
Births, still preserved in the Mayor's Office in Boston, his birth is rc-
coided under the date of January 6th, 1706. At this time his fathei
occupied a house in Milk street, opposite to the Old South Church,
but he rertioved shortly afterward to a house at the comer of Hanover
and Union streets, where it is believed he resided the remainder of liis
life, and where the son passed his early years. — S.
9 E
98 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
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.
" Because to be a libeller (says he)
I hate it with my heart ;
From Sherburne* town, where now I dwell
My name I do put here ;
Without offense your real friend,
It is Peter Folgier."t
* The poem, if such it may be called, of which these are the closing
lines, extends through fourteen pages of a duodecimo pamphlet, entitled
" A Looking-Glass for the Times ; or the former spirit of New England
revived in this generation, by Peter Folger." It is dated at the end,
" April 23d, 1676." The lines, which immediately precede those quoted
by Dr. Franklin, and which are necessary to complete the sentiment
intended to be conveyed by the author, are the following :
" I am for peace and not for war,
And that's the reason why
I write more plain than some men do,
That use to daub and lie.
But 1 shall cease, and set my name
To what I here insert.
Because to be a libeler
I hate it with my heart"
t The author's muse speaks even in the title-page, and explains to
the reader his design in writing the " Looking-Glass for the Times :"
" Let all that read these verses know.
That I intend something to show
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN 99
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 re-
member 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 gram-
mar-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 mean time, 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 — reasons
that he gave to his friends in my hearing — altered
his first intention, took me from the grammar-school,
and sent me to a school for writing and arithmetic,
About our war, how it hath been,
And also what is the chief sin,
That God doth so with us contend.
And when these wars are like to end,
Read then in love ; do not despise
What here is set before thine eyes."— .S.
164037
100 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
kept by a then famous man, Mr. George Brownell,
very successful in his profession generally, and that
by mild, encouraging methods. Under him I ac-
quired 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 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, at-
tending the shop, going of errands, etc.
I disliked the trade, and had a strong inclination
for the sea, but my father declared against it ; how-
ever, living near the water, I was much in and
about it, learnt early to swim well, and to man-
acfe 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 some-
times led them into scrapes, of which I will mention
one instance, as it shows an early projecting public
spirit, tho' not then justly conducted.
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 tramp-
ling, we had made it a mere quagmire. My pro-
posal was to build a wharflT there fit for us to stand
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. lOI
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 pur-
pose. Accordingly, in the evening, when the work-
men 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 sur-
prised 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.
I think you may like to know something of his
person and character. He had an excellent consti-
tution 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 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's tools ; but his
great excellence lay in a sound understanding and
solid judgment in prudential matters, both in private
and publick affairs. Inthe latter, indeed, he was never
employed, the numerous family he had to educate
9*
I02 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
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. 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 sea-
son, of good or bad flavor, preferable or inferior to
this or that other thing of the kind, so that I was
bro't up in such a perfect inattention to those
matters as to be quite indiflerent 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 com-
panions have been sometimes very unhappy for
want of a suitable gratification of their more delicate,
because better instructed, tastes and appetites.
My mother had likewise an excellent constitution :
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. IO3
she suckled all her ten children. I never knew
either my father or mother to have any sickness but
that of which they dy'd, 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 :
JosiAH Franklin,
and
Abiah his wife,
lie here interred.
They lived lovingly together in wedlock
fifty-five years.
"Without an estate, or any gainful employment,
By constant labor and industry,
with God's blessing.
They maintained a large family
comfortably,
and brought up thirteen children
and seven grandchildren
reputably.
From this instance, reader,
Be encouraged to diligence in thy calling,
And distrust not Providence.
He was a pious and prudent man ;
She, a discreet and virtuous woman.
Their youngest son.
In filial regard to their memory.
Places this stone.
J. F. born 1655, died 1744, ^tat 89.
A. F. born 1667, died 1752, 85.*
* The marble stone on which this inscription was engraved having
become decayed, and the inscription itself defaced by time, a more
durable monument has been erected over the graves of the father and
mother of Franklin. The suggestion was first made at a meeting of
the Building Committee of the Bunker Hill Monument Association in
the autumn of 1826, and it met with universal approbation. A com-
mittee of managers was organized, and an amount of money adequate
I04 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
By my rambling digressions I perceive m}-self to
be grown old. I us'd to write more methodically.
But one does not dress for private company as for a
publick ball. 'Tis perhaps only negligence.
To return : I continued thus employed in my
to the object was soon contributed by the voluntary subscriptions of a
large number of the citizens of Boston. The corner-stone was laid on
the 15th of June, 1827, and an address appropriate to the occasion was
pronounced by General Henry A. S. Dearborn. The monument is an
obelisk of granite, twenty-one feet high, which rests on a square base
measuring seven feet on each side and two feet in height The obelisk
is composed of five massive blocks of granite, placed one above another.
On one side is the name of Franklin in large bronze letters, and a little
below is a tablet of bronze, thirty-two inches long and sixteen wide,
sunk into the stone. On this tablet is engraven Dr. Franklin's original
inscription, as quoted in the text, and beneath it are the following lines:
The Marble Tablet,
Bearing the above inscription.
Having been dilapidated by the ravages of time,
A number of citizens.
Entertaining the most profound veneration
For the memory of the illustrious
Benjamin Franklin,
And desirous of reminding succeeding generations
That he was born in Boston,
A. D. MDCCVL,
Erected this
Obelisk
Over the grave of his parents,
MDCCCXXVII.
A silver plate \\as deposited under the comer-stone, with an inscrip-
tion commemorative of the occasion, a part of which. is as follows:
" This monument was erected over the remains of the parents of Ben-
jamin Franklin by the citizens of Boston, from respect to the private
character and public services of this illustrious patriot and philosopher,
and for the many tokens of his affectionate attachment to his native
town.' — S.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 105
father's 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, mar-
ried, 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 dis-
like 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 vexa-
tion. He therefore sometimes took me to walk with
him, and see joiners, bricklayers, turners, braziers,
etc., at their work, that he might observe my incli-
nation, 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 con-
struct little machines for my experiments, while the
intention of making the experiment was fresh and
warm in my mind. M}^ father at last fixed upon
the cutler's trade, and my uncle Benjamin's 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.
From a child I was fond of reading, and all the
little money that came into my hands was ever laid
I06 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
out in books. Pleased with the Pilgrim's Progress,
my first collection was of John Bunyan's works in
separate little volumes. I afterward sold them to
enable me to buy R. Burton's Historical Collections ;
they were small chapmen's books, and cheap, 40
or 50 in all. My father's litde 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 no'; fallen in my way, since it was now
resolved I should not be a clergyman. Plutarch's
Lives there was in which I read abundantly, and 1
still think that time spent to great advantage. There
was also a book of De 'Foe's, called an Essay on
Projects, and another of Dr. Mather's, called Essays
to do Good, which perhaps gave me a turn of think-
incr that had an influence on some of the principal
future events of my life.
This bookish inclinadon at length determined my
father to make me a printer, though he had already
one son (James) of that profession. In 17 17 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 inchnation, my father was impa-
tient 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
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. lO'J
years of age, only I was to be allowed journeyman's
wages during the last year. In a little time I made
great proficiency in the 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 bor-
rowed in the evening and to be returned early in
the morning, lest it should be missed or wanted.
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 ac-
count, encouraged me, and put me on composing
occasional ballads. One was called The Light-
house Tragedy, and contained an account of the
drowning of Captain Worthilake, with his two
daughters : the other was a sailor's 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
I08 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
me verse-makers were generally beggars. So 1
escaped being a poet, most probably a very bad
one ; but as prose writing has 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.
There was another bookish lad in the town, John
Collins by name, with whom I was intimately ac-
quainted. We sometimes disputed, and very fond
we were of argument, and very desirous of confut-
ing one another, which disputatious turn, by the
way, is apt to become a very bad habit, making
people often extrem.ely 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, per-
haps enmities where you may have occasion for
friendship. I had caught it by reading my father's
books of dispute about religion. Persons of good
sense, I have since observed, seldom fall into it,
except lawyers, universit}'" men, and men of all
sorts that have been bred at Edinborough.
A question was once, somehow or other, started
between Collins and me, of the propriety of educat-
ing 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's sake.
He was naturally more eloquent, had a ready plenty
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. lOQ
of words ; and sometimes, as I thought, bore me
down more by his fluency than by the strength of
liis 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 writ-
ing, which I copied fair and sent to him. He an-
swered, 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'd 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 remarks,
and thence grew more attentive to the manner in
writing, and determined to endeavor at improve-
ment.
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'd to compleat the
papers again, by expressing each hinted sentiment at
length, and as fully as it had been expressed before, in
JO
no AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
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 recol-
lecting 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 neces-
sity 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 w^ell forgotten the prose, turned them
back again. I also sometimes jumbled my collec-
tions of hints into confusion, and after some weeks
endeavored to reduce them into the best order, be-
fore 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 im-
port, 1 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 extreamly ambitious.
M}' time for these exercises and for reading was at
night, after work or before it began in the morning.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. Ill
or on Sundays, when I contrived to be in the print-
ing-house alone, evading as much as I could the
common attendance on public worship which my
father used to exact of 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 prac-
tise it.
When about i6 years of age I happened to
meet with a book, written by one Try on, recom-
mending a vegetable diet. I determined to go into
it. My brother, being yet unmarried, did not keep
house, but boarded himself and his apprentices in
another family. My refusing to eat flesh occasioned
an inconveniency, and I was frequently chid for my
singularity. I made myself acquainted with Tryon's
manner of preparing some of his dishes, such as
boiling potatoes or rice, making hasty pudding, and
a few others, and then 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 print-
ing-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 pastry-cook's,
and a glass of water, had the rest of the time till
their return for study, in which I made the greatej
112 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
progress, from that greater clearness of head and
quicker apprehension which usually attend temper-
ance in eating and drinking.
And now it was that, being on some occasion
made asham'd of my ignorance in figures, which 1
had twice failed in learning when at school, I took
Cocker's book of Arithmetick, and went through the
whole by myself with great ease. I also read Sel-
ler's and Shermy's books of Navigation, and became
acquainted with the little geometry they contain ;
but never proceeded far in that science. And I read
about this time Locke on Human Understanding,,
and the Art of Thinkings by Messrs. du Port Royal.*
* Cabanis, in the notice which he prepared of Frankhn shortly after
the philosopher's death, says, in reference to his reading at this time :
" We have it also from him that about this time, for the first, he read a
very bad translation of the Provincial Letters. He was ravished by
them. He read them over many times. They were one of the French
books he most esteemed." — CEuvres Conipkts, vol. v., p. 228.
The discrepancy between these two statements provokes the remark
that at the time Franklin wrote this portion of the Memoirs he did not
know Cabanis. It is probable that he read and was much impressed
by both works, and at different epochs of his life and with different
persons dwelt sometimes upon the importance of one and sometimes
of the other to his intellectual training.
Speaking of the three particular books which may have remotely
contributed to form the historian of the Roman Empire, Gibbon says :
" From the Provincial Letters of Pascal, which almost every year I have
perused with new pleasure, 1 learned to manage the weapon of grave
and temperate irony even on subjects of ecclesiastical solemnity." — Mis-
cellaneous Works of Gibbon, in 5 vols., vol. i. p. 96.
Reasoning post hoc propter hoc, Franklin might have made the same
confession with equal propriety. Not Gibbon himself was a master of
a more refined and decorous irony. I will venture to give an illustra-
tion of his skill in the management of this most dangerous wcapoi
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. I I 3
While I was intent on improving my language, I
met with an English grammar (I think it was Green-
wood's), at the end of which there were two little
sketches of the arts of rhetoric and logic, the latter
finishing with a specimen of a dispute in the Socratic
method ; and soon after I procur'd Xenophon's Me-
morable Things of Socrates, wherein there are many
instances of the same method. I was charm'd with
it, adopted it, dropt my abrupt contradiction and
positive argumentation, and put on the humble in-
quirer and doubter. And being then, from reading
Shaftesbury and CoUins, become a real doubter in
many points of our religious doctrine, I found this
method safest for myself and very embarassing to
those aofainst whom I used it ; therefore I took a de-
light in it, practis'd it continually, and grew very
artful and expert in drawing people, even of supe-
rior knowledge, into concessions, the consequences
here, only becaiue it has never been in print. It appears in a letter
written by the Doctor shortly after his final return from Europe, to his
friend Le Ray de Chaumont, one of whose houses at Passy he occupied
during his entire residence near the Court of France. I am indebted
to his grandson, M. le Ray de Chaumont, who still lives in Paris in
the enjoyment of a green old age, for a copy of the original. In this
letter, referring to a claim sent in by his maitre d'hotel, for bills already
once paid, the Doctor says :
"As to Tinck, the maitre d'hotel, he was fairly paid in money for every
just demand he could make against us, and we have his receipts in full.
But there are knaves in the world whom no vn^iting can bind, and when
you thmk you have finished with them, they come with demands aftei
demands, sans Jin. He was continually saying of himself, jfe sms honncle
komme, je siiis honnete hom?ne. But I always suspected h( was mis-
taken ; and so it proves." — Ed.
lU*
114 AUTOBIOGRAPIir OF
of which they did not foresee, entangling them in
difficulties out of which they could not extricate
themselves, and so obtaining victories that neither
myself nor my cause always deserved. I continu'd
this method some few years, but gradually left it,
retaining only the habit of expressing myself in
terms of modest diffidence ; never using, when I
advanced any thing that may possibly be disputed,
the words certainly, tindoubted/y, 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 he
so; or it is so, if I am not mistaken. This habit, I
believe, has been of great advantage to me when I
have had occasion to inculcate my opinions, and
persuade men into measures that I have been from
time to time engag'd in promoting ; and, as the chief
ends of conversation are to inform or to be informed,
to f lease or to -persuade, I wish well-meaning, sensi-
ble 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 improve-
ment from the knowledge of others, and 3^et at the
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 1 1 5
same time express yourself as firmly fix'd in youi
present opinions, modest, sensible men, who do
not love disputation, will probably leave you undis-
turbed in the possession of your error. And by such
a manner, you can seldom hope to recommend
yourself in -phasing your hearers, or to persuade
those whose concurrence you desire. Pope says,
judiciously :
" Meit should be taught as if you taught them not.
And things unknown propos' d as things forgot ;"
farther recommending to us
" To speak, tho' sure, with seeming diffidence."
And he might have coupled with this line that which
he has coupled with another, I think, less properly,
" For want of modesty is want of sense."
If you ask, Why less properly? I must repeat the
lines,
" Immodest words admit of no defense,
For want of modesty is want of sense."
Now, is not want of sense (where a man is so un-
fortunate as to want it) some apology for his -want
of modesty? and would not the lines stand more
justly thus?
" Immodest words admit but this defense,
That want of modesty is want of sense."
This, however, I should submit to better judgments.
My brother had, in 1720 or 1721, begun to prini
a newspaper. It was the second that appeared in
America, and was called the New England Courant.
Il6 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
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 Hkely to suc-
ceed, one newspaper being, in their judgment,
enough for America.* At this time (1771) there
are not less than five-and-twenty. He went on,
however, with the undertaking, and after having
worked in composing the types and printing off the
sheets, I was employed to carry the papers thro'
the streets to the customers.
He had some ingenious men among his friends,
who amus'd themselves by writing little pieces for
this paper, whicli gain'd it credit and made it more
in demand, and these gentlemen often visited us.
Hearing their conversations, and their accounts of
the approbation their papers were 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
* " This was written from recollection, and it is not surprising that,
after the lapse of fifty years, the author's memory should have failed
him in regard to a fact of small importance. The " New England Cour-
ant" was the fourth newspaper that appeared in America. The first
number of the Boston News-Letter was published April 24th, 1704.
This was the first newspaper in America. The Boston Gazette com-
menced December 21st, 1719 ; the American Weekly Mercuiy, at Phila-
delphia, December 22d, 1719 ; the New England Courant, August 21st,
1 721. Dr. Franklin's error of memory probably originated in the cir-
cumstance of his brother having been the printer of the Boston Gazette
when it was first established. This was the second newspaper piblished
in America." — S.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 11/
hand, and, writing an anonymous paper, I put it in
at night under the door of the printing-house. It
was found in the morning, and communicated to his
writing friends when they call'd in as usual. They
read it, commented on it in my hearing, and I had
the exquisite pleasure of finding it met with their
approbation, and that, in their different guesses at
the author, none were named but men of some char-
acter among us for learning and ingenuity. I sup-
pose now that I was rather lucky in my judges, and
that perhaps they were not really so very good ones
as I then esteem'd them.
Encourag'd, however, by this, I wrote and con-
vey'd in the same way to the press several more
papers which were equally approv'd ; and I kept
my secret till my small fund of sense for such per-
formances was pretty well exhausted, and then I dis-
covered it, when I began to be considered a little
more by my brother's acquaintance, and in a man-
ner 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, accord-
ingly, expected the same services from me as he
would from another, while I thought he demean'd
me too much in some he requir'd of me, who from
a brother expected more indulgence. Our disputes
were often brought before our father, and I fancy I
Il8 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
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
sliortening it, which at length offered in a manner
unexpected.*
One of the pieces in our newspaper on some po-
litical point, which I have now forgotten, gave
offense to the Assembly. He was taken up, cen-
sur'd, and imprison'd for a month, by the speaker's
warrant, I suppose, because he would not discover
his author. I too was taken up and examin'd be-
fore the council ; but, tho' I did not give them
any satisfaction, they content'd themselves with
admonishing me, and dismissed me, considering
me, perhaps, as an apprentice, who was bound to
keep his master's secrets.
During my brother's confinement, which I re-
sented 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's discharge was accompany'd with an
* I fancy his harsh and tjTannical treatment of me might be a means
of impressing me with that aversion to arbitrary power that has stuck
to me through my whole life
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. II9
order of the House (a very odd one), that " yames
Franklin should ?io longer -print the -paper called
the New England Courant."
There was a consultation held in our printing-
house among his friends, what he should do in this
case. Some proposed to evade the order by chang-
ing 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 con-
trivance was that my old indenture should be re-
turn'd to me, with a full discharge on the back of
it, to be shown on occasion, but to secure to him the
benefit of my service, I was to sign new indentures
for the remainder of the term, which were to be
kept private. A very flimsy scheme it was ; how-
ever, it was immediately executed, and the paper
went on accordingly, under my name for several
months.
At length, a fresh difference arising between my
brother and me, I took upon me to assert my free-
dom, presuming that he would not venture to pro-
duce 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 impres-
sions of resentment for the blows his passion too
often urged him to bestow upon me, though he was
I20 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
Otherwise not an ill-natur'd man : perhaps I wat
too saucy and provoking.
When he found I would leave him, he took care
to prevent my getting employment in any other
printing-house of the town, by going round and
speaking to every master, who accordingly refus'd
to give me work. I then thought of going to New
York, as the nearest place where there was a printer ;
and I was rather inclin'd to leave Boston when I
reflected that I had already made myself a little ob-
noxious to the governing party, and, from the arbi-
trary proceedings of the Assembly in my brother's
case, it was likely I might, if I stay'd, soon bring
myself into scrapes ; and farther, that my indiscrete
disputations about religion began to make me pointed
at with horror by good people as an infidel or atheist.
I determin'd on the point, but my father now siding
with my brother, I was sensible that, if I attempted
to go openly, means would be used to prevent me.
My friend Collins, therefore, undertook to manage
a little for me. He agreed with the captain of a
New York sloop for my passage, under the notion
of my being a young acquaintance of his, that had
got a naughty girl with child, whose friends would
compel me to marry her, and therefore I could not
appear or come away 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
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 121
home, a boy of but 17,* without the least recom-
mendation to, or knowledge of any person in the
place, and with very little money in my pocket.
My inclinations for the sea were by this time worne
out, or I might now have gratify'd them. But, hav-
ing a trade, and supposing myself a pretty good
workman, I ofFer'd 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, "My son at
Philadelphia has lately lost his principal hand,
Aquila Rose, by death; if you go thither, I believe
he may employ you." Philadelphia was a hundred
miles further ; I set out, however, in a boat for
Amboy, leaving my chest and things to follow me
round by sea.
In crossing the bay, we met with a squall that
tore our rotten sails to pieces, prevented our getting
into the Kill, and drove us upon Long Island. In
our way, a drunken Dutchman, who was a passen-
ger too, fell overboard ; when he was sinking, I
reached through the water to his shock pate, and
drew him up, so that we got him in again. His
ducking sobered him a little, and he went to sleep,
taking first out of his pocket a book, which he de-
sir'd I would dry for him. It proved to be my old
* This was in October, 1723.— Ed.
11 «•
122 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
favorite author, Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, in
Dutch, finely printed on good paper, with copper
cuts, a dress better than I had ever seen it wear in
its own language. I have since found that it has
been translated into most of the languages of Europe,
and suppose it has been more generally read than
any other book, except perhaps the Bible. Honest
John was the first that I know of who mix'd narra-
tion and dialogue ; a method of writing very engag-
ing to the reader, who in the most interesting parts
finds himself, as it were, brought into the companj
and present at the discourse. De Foe in his Cruso,
his Moll Flanders, Religious Courtship, Family In-
structor, and other pieces, has imitated it with suc-
cess i and Richardson has done the same in his
Pamela, etc.
When we drew near the island, we found it was
at a place where there could be no landing, there
being a great surfF on the stony beach. So we
dropt anchor, and swung round towards the
shore. Some people came down to the water edge
and hallow'd to us, as we did to them ; but the wind
was so high, and the surff so loud, that we could not
hear so as to understand each other. There were
canoes on the shore, and we made signs, and hal-
low'd that they should fetch us ; but they either did
not understand us, or thought it impracticable, so
they went away, and night coming on, we had no
remedy but to wait till the wind should abate ; and,
BEJVjfAMIN FRANKLIN. 1 23
in the mean time, the boatman and I concluded to
sleep, if we could ; and so crowded into the scuttle,
with the Dutchman, who was still wet, and the spray
beating over the head of our boat, leak'd thro' to us,
so that we were soon almost as wet as he. In this
manner we lay all night, with very little rest ; but,
the wind abating the next da}^ we made a shift to
reach Amboy before night, having been thirty hours
on the water, without victuals, or any drink but a
bottle of filthy rum, the water we sail'd on being
salt.
In the evening I found m3^self very feverish, and
went in to bed ; but, having read somewhere that cold
water drank plentifully was good for a fever, I fol-
low'd the prescription, sweat plentifully most of the
night, my fever left me, and in the morning, cross-
ing the ferry, I proceeded on my journey on foot,
having fifty miles to Burlington, where I was told
I should find boats that would carry me the rest of
the way to Philadelphia.
It rained very hard all the day ; I was thoroughly
boak'd, and by noon a good deal tired ; so I stopt
at a poor inn, where I staid all night, beginning now
to wish that I had never left home. I cut so miser-
able a figure, too, that I found, by the questions ask'd
me, I was suspected to be some runaway servant,
and in danger of being taken up on that suspicion.
However, I proceeded the next day, and got in the
evening to an inn, within eight or ten miles of
Bui-lington, kept by one Dr. Brown. He entered
124 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
into conversation with me while I took some re-
freshment, and, finding I had read a little, became
very sociable and friendly. Our acquaintance con-
tinu'd as long as he liv'd. He had been, I imagine,
an itinerant doctor, for there was no town in
England, or country in Europe, of which he
could not give a very particular account. He
had some letters, and was ingenious, but much of
an unbeliever, and wickedly undertook, some years
after, to travestie the Bible in doggrel verse, as
Cotton had done Virgil. By this means he set many
of the facts in a very ridiculous light, and might
have hurt weak minds if his work had been pub-
lished ; but it never was.
At his house I lay that night, and the next morn-
ing reach'd Burlington, but had the mortification to
find that the regular boats were gone a little before
my coming, and no other expected to go before
Tuesday, this being Saturday ; wherefore I returned
to an old woman in the town, of whom I had bought
gingerbread to eat on the water, and ask'd her
advice. She invited me to lodge at her house till a
passage by water should offer ; and being tired with
my foot travelling, I accepted the invitation. She
understanding I was a printer, would have had me
stay at that town and follow my business, being
ignorant of the stock necessary to begin with. She
was very hospitable, gave me a dinner of ox-cheek
with great good will, accepting only of a pot of ale
in return ; and I thought myself fixed till Tuesday
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. I 25
should come. However, walking in the evening by
the side of the river, a boat came by, which I found
was going towards Philadelphia, with several people
in her. They took me in, and, as there was no
wind, we row'd all the way ; and about midnight,
not having yet seen the city, some of the company
were confident we must have passed it, and would
row no farther ; the others knew not where we were ;
so we put toward the shore, got into a creek, landed
near an old fence, with the rails of which we made
a fire, the night being cold, in October, and there
we remained till daylight. Then one of the com-
pany knew the place to be Cooper's Creek, a little
above Philadelphia, which we saw as soon as we
got out of the creek, and arriv'd there about eight
or nine o'clock on the Sunday morning, and landed
at the Market-street wharf.
I have been the more particular in this description
of my journey, and shall be so of my first entry into
that city, that you may in your mind compare such
unlikely beginnings with the figure I have since
made there. I was in my working dress, my best
cloaths being to come round by sea. I was dirtv
from my journey ; my pockets were stuff^'d 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
11*
126 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
refus'd it, on account of my rowing ; but I insisted
on their taking it. A man being sometimes more
generous when he has but a Httle money than when
he has plenty, perhaps thro' fear of being thought
to have but Httle.
Tlien 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's
he directed me to, in Second-street, and ask'd for
bisket, intending such as we had in Boston ; but
they, it seems, were not made in Philadelphia.
Then I asked for a three-penny loaf, and was told
they had none such. So not considering or know-
ing the difference of money, and the greater cheap-
ness nor the names of his bread, I bad him give me
three-penny worth of any sort. He gave me, ac-
cordingly, three great pufly rolls. I was surpriz'd
at the quantity, but took it, and, having no room in
my pockets, walk'd off with a roll under each arm,
and eating the other. Thus I went up Market-street
as far as Fourth-street, passing by the door of Mr.
Read, my future wife's father; when she, standing
at the door, saw me, and thought I made, as I cer-
tainly did, a most awkward, ridiculous appearance.
Then I turned and went down Chesnut-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, bemg
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 1 27
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.
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'
labor and want of rest the preceding night, I fell
fast asleep, and continu'd so till the meeting broke
up, when one was kind enough to rouse me. This
was, therefore, the first house I was in, or slept in,
in Philadelphia.
Walking down again toward the river, and, look-
ing in the faces of people, I met a young Quaker
man, whose countenance I lik'd, and, accosting him,
requested he would tell me where a stranger could
get lodging. We were then near the sign of the
Three Mariners. "Here," says he, "is one place
ihat entertains strangers, but it is not a reputable
house ; if thee wilt walk with me, I'll show thee a
better." He brought me to the Crooked Billet in
Water-street. Here I got a dinner ; and, while I
was eating it, several sly questions were asked me,
as it seemed to be suspected from my youth and ap-
pearance, that I might be some runaway.
After dinner, my sleepiness return'd, and being
shown to a bed, I lay down without undressing, and
128 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
slept till six in the evening, was call'd to supper,
went to bed again very early, and slept soundly till
next morning. Then I made myself as tidy as I
could, and went to Andrew Bradford the printer's.
I found in the shop the old man his father, whom I
had seen at New York, and who, travelling on horse-
back, had got to Philadelphia before me. He intro-
duc'd me to his son, who receiv'd me civilly, gave
me a breakfast, but told me he did not at present
want a hand, being lately suppli'd with one ; but
there was another printer in town, lately set up, one
Keimer, who, perhaps, might employ me ; if not, I
should be welcome to lodge at his house, and he
would give me a little work to do now and then till
fuller business should offer.
The old gentleman said he would go with me to
the new printer; and when we found him, " Neigh-
bor," says Bradford, " I have brought to see you a
young man of your business ; perhaps you may
want such a one." He ask'd me a few questions,
put a composing stick in my hand to see how I
work'd, 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 be-
fore, to be one of the town's people that had a good
will for him, enter'd into a conversation on his pre-
sent undertaking and prospects; while Bradford,
not discovering that he was the other printer's father,
on Keimer's saying he expected soon to get the
greatest part of the business into his own hands,
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 1 29
drew him on by artful questions, and starting little
doubts, to explain all his views, what interest he
reli'd on, and in what manner he intended to pro-
ceed. I, who stood by and heard all, saw imme-
diately that one of them was a crafty old sophister,
and the other a mere novice. Bradford left me with
Keimer, who was greatly surpris'd when I told him
who the old man was.
Keimer's printing-house, I found, consisted of an
old shatter'd press, and one small, worn-out font of
English, which he was then using himself, composing
an Elegy on Aquila Rose, before mentioned, an in-
genious 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'd
to put his press (which he had not yet us'd, and of
which he understood nothing) into order fit to be
work'd with ; and, promising to come and print off
his Elegy as soon as he should have got it ready, I
return'd to Bradford's, 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.
F»
130 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
These two printers I found poorly qualified for
their business. Bradford had not been bred to it,
and was very illiterate ; and Keimer, tho' some-
thing 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 ;
v^as very ignorant of the world, and had, as I after-
ward found, a good deal of the knave in his com-
position. He did not like my lodging at Bradford's
while I work'd 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's, before men-
tioned, 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 hap-
pen'd to see me eating my roll in the street.
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 pleas-
antly ; and gaining money by my industry and fru-
gality, 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 Col-
lins, who was in my secret, and kept it when I wrote
to him. At length, an incident happened that sent
* M. Laboulaye presumes Keimer was one of the Caniisards or Pro-
testants of the Ceveiuies, so persecuted by Louis XIV. — Ed.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. I3I
me back again much sooner than I had intended.
1 had a brother-in-law, Robert Holmes, master of a
sloop that traded between Boston and Delaware.
He being at Newcastle, forty miles below Philadel-
phia, heard there of me, and wrote me a letter men-
tioning the concern of my friends in Boston at my ab-
rupt 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'd
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.
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'd him the let-
ter. The governor read it, and seem'd surpris'd
when he was told my age. He said I appear'd 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'd,
132 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
come directly across the street to our house, and
heard them at the door.
Keimer ran down immediately, thinking it a visit
to him ; but the governor inquir'd for me, came up,
and with a condescension and politeness I had been
quite unus'd to, made me many compliments, de-
sired to be acquainted with me, blam'd 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'd like a pig poison'd. I went, however, with
the governor and Colonel French to a tavern, at the
corner of Third-street, and over the Madeira he
propos'd my setting up my business, laid before me
the probabilities of success, and both he and Colo-
nel French assur'd 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 pre-
vailincf with him. So it was concluded I should re-
turn to Boston in the first vessel, with the governor's
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 govei-
nor sending for me now and then to dine with him,
a very great honor I thought it, and conversing
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 1 33
with me in the most affable, famihar, and friendly
manner imaginable.
About the end of April, 1724, a little vessel offer'd
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 set-
ting 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'd to pump almost con-
tinually, at which I took my turn. We arriv'd 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'd, and had not written about me.
My unexpected appearance surpriz'd 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'd
than ever while in his service, having a genteel new
suit from head to foot, a watch, and my pockets
lin'd with near five pounds sterling in silver. He
receiv'd me not very frankly, look'd me all over,
and turn'd to his work again.
The journeymen were inquisitive where I had
been, what sort of a country it was, and how I lik'd
it. I prais'd it much, and 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
12
134 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
had there, I produc'd a handful of silver, and spread
it before them, which was a kind of raree-show they
had not been us'd 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.
My father received the governor's letter with some
apparent surprise, but said little of it to me for some
days, when Capt. Holmes returning he show'd it
to him, ask'd 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's estate. Holmes said what he could in favor
of the project, but my father was clear in the impro
priety 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 man-
agement of a business so important, and for which
the preparation must be so expensive.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 135
My fiiend and companion Collins, who was a
clerk in the post-office, pleas'd with the account I
gave him of my new country, determined to go
thither also ; and, while I waited for my father's de-
termination, he set out before me by land to Rhode
Island, leaving his books, which were a pretty col-
lection of mathematicks and natural philosophy, to
come with mine and me to New York, where he
propos'd to wait for me.
My father, tho' he did not approve Sir Wil-
liam's proposition, was yet pleas'd that 1 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 re-
turning again to Philadelphia, advis'd me to behave
respectfully to the people there, endeavor to obtain
the general esteem, and avoid lampooning and libel-
ing, to which he thought I had too much inclination ;
telling me, that by steady industry and a prudent par-
simony I might save enough by the time I was one-
and-tvventy 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's love, when I em-
bark'd again for New York, now with their appro-
bation and their blessing.
The sloop putting in at Newport, Rhode Island,
136 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
I visited my brother John, who had been married
and settled there some years. He received me very
affectionatel3s for he always lov'd me. A friend of
his, one Vernon, having some money due to him in
Pensilvania, about thirty-five pounds currency,
desired I would receive it for him, and keep it till
I had his directions what to remit it in. Accord-
ingly, he gave me an order. This afterwards occa-
sion'd me a good deal of uneasiness.
At Newport we took in a number of passengers
for New York, among which were two young
women, companions, and a grave, sensible, matron-
like Quaker woman, with her attendants. I had
shown an obliging readiness to do her some little
services, which impress'd her I suppose with a
degree of good will toward me; therefore, when
she saw a daily growing familiarity between me and
the two young women, which they appear'd to
encourage, she took me aside, and said, "Young
man, I am concern'd for thee, as thou has no friend
with thee, and seems not to know much of the
world, or of the snares youth is expos'd to ;
depend upon it, those are very bad women ; I can
<?ee it in all their actions ; and if thee art not upon
thy guard, they will draw thee into some danger ;
they are strangers to thee, and I advise thee, in a
friendly concern for thy welfare, to have no ac-
quaintance with them." As I seem'd at first not to
think so ill of them as she did, she mentioned seme
things she had observ'd and heard that had escap'd
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 137
my notice, but now convinc'd me she was right. 1
thank'd her for her kind advice, and promis'd to
follow it. When we arriv'd at New York, they
told me where they liv'd, and invited me to come
and see them ; but I avoided it, and it was well I
did ; for the next day the captain miss'd a silver
spoon and some other things, that had been taken
out of his cabbin, and, knowing that these were a
couple of strumpets, he got a warrant to search their
lodgings, found the stolen goods, and had the
thieves punish'd. So, tho' we had escap'd a sunken
rock, which we scrap'd upon in the passage, I
thought this escape of rather more importance to
me.
At New York I found my friend Collins, who had
arriv'd there some time before me. We had been
intimate from children, and had read the same books
together ; but he had the advantage of more time
for reading and studying, and a wonderful genius
for mathematical learning, in which he far outstript
me. While I liv'd in Boston, most of my hours of
leisure for conversation were spent with him, and
he continu'd a sober as well as an industrious lad ;
was much respected for his learning by several of
the clergy and other gentlemen, and seemed to pro-
mise making a good figure in life. But, during my
absence, he had acquir'd a habit of sotting with
brandy ; and I found by his own account, and what
1 heard from others, that he had been drunk every
day since his arrival at New York, and behav'd
12*
138 AUTOBIOGRAPHT OF
very oddly. He had gam'd, too, and lost his
money, so that I was oblig'd to discharge his lodg-
ings, and defray his expenses to and at Philadelphia,
which prov'd extremely inconvenient to me.
The then governor of New York, Burnet (son
of Bishop Burnet),* hearing from the captain that
a young man, one of his passengers, had a great
many books, desir'd he would bring me to see him.
* Governor Burnet was appointed governor of the Colony of New
York and New Jersey on the 19th of April, 1720. He entered upon
the duties of his office in September following. He was a man of
scholarly tastes, fond of accumulating books, with a turn for theological
speculation, which he indulged in making a commentary upon the three
periods contained in the twelfth chapter of Daniel. The governor
married a daughter of Cornelius Van Home, of New York, who died
soon. He was transferred to the governorship of Boston in July, 1728.
His administration there, however, was not of long duration. He was
taken ill from exposure on a fishing excursion, and died on the 7th of
September, 1729.
The governor's interest in theology did not commend him especially
to the authorities at home.
The Bishop of London complained that clergymen already provided
with his license to preach in the colonies were subject to a new exami-
nation, conducted in a somewhat unusual manner by the governor.
" Your method {wrote Richard West, the governor's brother-in-law,
Solicitor-General to the Board of Trade) is to prescribe him a text, to
give him a Bible for his companion, and then lock him into a room by
himself, and if he does not in some stated time produce a sermon to
your satisfaction, you peremptorily refuse to grant him your instrument
(permission to preach). The consequence is, the man must starve.
* * * I have seen a great many complaints against governors, but
then nobody was surprised, because I could always give some pecuniary
reason for what they had done. You surely are the first who evei
brought himself into difficulties by an inordinate care of sonis ; and ]
am sure that makes no part of your commission."
For the best account of this worthy man, see Whitehead's Contrihw
tions to East Jers'y Histoiy, pp. 156-168. — Ed.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 1 39
I waited upon him accordingly, and should have
taken Collins with me but that he was not sober.
The gov'r. treated me with great civility, show'd
me his library, which was a very large one, and we
had a good deal of conversation about books and
authors. This was the second governor who had
done me the honor to take notice of me ; which, to a
poor boy like me, was very pleasing.
We proceeded to Philadelphia. I received on the
way Vernon's money, without which we could
hardly have finish'd our journey. Collins wished
to be employ'd in some counting-house ; but,
whether they discover'd his dramming by his
breath, or by his behaviour, tho' he had some
recommendations, he met with no success in any
application, and continu'd lodging and boarding at
the same house with me, and at my expense.
Knowing I had that money of Vernon's, he was
continually borrowing of me, still promising repay-
ment as soon as he should be in business. At
length he had got so much of it that I was distress'd
to think what I should do in case of being call'd on
to remit it.
His drinking continu'd, about which we some-
times quarrel'd ; for, when a little intoxicated, he
was very fractious. Once, in a boat on the Dela-
ware with some other young men, he refused to row
m his turn. " I will be row'd home," says he.
*'We will not row you," says I. "You must, or
Blay all night on the water," says he, "just as you
I40 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
please." The others said, "Let us row; what
signifies it?" But, my mind being soured with his
other conduct, I continu'd to refuse. So he swore
he would make me row, or throw me overboard ;
and coming along, stepping on the thwarts, toward
me, when he came up and struck at me, I clapped
my hand under his crutch, and, rising, pitched him
head-foremost into the river. I knew he was a good
swimmer, and so was under little concern about
him ; but before he could get round to lay hold of
the boat, we had with a few strokes pull'd her out
of his reach ; and ever when he drew near the boat,
we ask'd if he would row, striking a few strokes to
slide her away from him. He was ready to die
with vexation, and obstinately would not promise to
row. However, seeing him at last beginning to
tire, we lifted him in and brought him home drip-
ping wet in the evening. We hardly exchang'd a
civil word afterwards, and a West India captain,
who had a commission to procure a tutor for the sons
of a gentleman at Barbadoes, happening to meet
with him, agreed to carry him thither. He left me
then, promising to remit me the first money he should
receive in order to discharge the debt ; but I never
heard of him after.
The breaking into this money of Vernon's was
one of the first great errata of my life ; and this affair
show'd that my father was not much out in his judg-
ment when he suppos'd me too young to manage
business of importance. But Sir William, on read-
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. I4I
ing his letter, said he was too prudent. There was
great difference in persons ; and discretion did not
always accompany years, nor was youth always
without it. "And since he will not set you up,'
says he, " I will do it myself. Give me an inven-
tory of the things necessary to be had from England,
and I will send for them. You shall repay me when
you are able ; I am resolv'd to have a good printer
here, and I am sure you must succeed." This was
spoken with such an appearance of cordiality, that
I had not the least doubt of his meaning what he
said. I had hitherto kept the proposition of my
setting up, a secret in Philadelphia, and I still kept
it. Had it been known that I depended on the
governor, probably some friend, that knew him
better, would have advis'd me not to rely on him,
as I afterwards heard it as his known character
to be liberal of promises which he never meant
to keep. Yet, unsolicited as he was by me, how
could I think his generous offers insincere? I be-
liev'd him one of the best men in the world.
I presented him an inventory of a little print'g-
house, amounting by my computation to about one
hundred pounds sterling. He lik'd it, but ask'd
me if my being on the spot in England to chuse the
types, and see that every thing was good of the
kind, might not be of some advantage. "Then,"
says he, "when there, you may make acquaintances,
and establish correspondences in the bookselling
and stationery way." I agreed that this might be
142 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
advantageous. "Then," says he "get yourself
ready to go with Annis ;" which was the annual
ship, and the only one at that time usually passing
between London and Philadelphia. But it would
be some months before Annis sail'd, so I continu'd
working with Keimer, fretting about the money Col-
lins had got from me, and in daily apprehensions of
being call'd upon by Vernon, which, however, did
not happen for some years after.
I believe I have omitted mentioning that, in my
first voyage from Boston, being becalm'd off Block
Island, our people set about catching cod, and hauled
up a great many. Hitherto I had stuck to my reso-
lution of not eating animal food, and on this occa-
sion I consider'd, 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'd
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, " If you eat one another, I don't see why
we majm't eat you." So I din'd upon cod very
heartily, and continued to eat with other people,
returning only now and then occasionally to a vege-
table diet. So convenient a thing it is to be a rea-
sonable creature, since it enables one to find or
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 143
make a reason for every thing one has a mind
to do.
Keimer and I liv'd on a pretty good familiar foot-
ing, and agreed tolerably well, for he suspected no-
thing of my setting up. He retained a great deal of
his old enthusiasms and lov'd argumentation. We
therefore had many disputations. I used to work
him so with my Socratic method, and had trepann'd
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 cau-
tious, and would hardly answer me the most com-
mon question, without asking first, '•'■What do you
intend to hifer /roni thatf" However, it gave him
so high an opinion of my abilities in the confuting
way, that he seriously proposed my being his col-
league in a project he had of setting up a new sect.
He was to preach the doctrines, and I was to con-
found all opponents. When he came to explain
with me upon the doctrines, I found several conun-
drums which I objected to, unless I might have my
way a little too, and introduce some of mine.
Keimer wore his beard at full length, because some-
where in the Mosaic law it is said, " Thou shalt not
mar the corners of thy beard." He likewise kept
the Seventh day, Sabbath ; and these two points
were essentials with him. I dislik'd both ; but
agreed to admit them upon condition of his adopting
the doctrine of using no animal food. " I doubt,"
144 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
said he, " my constitution will not bear that." I
assur'd 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'd, and brought
to us regularly by a woman in the neighborhood,
who had from me a list of forty dishes, to be pre-
par'd 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 eighteen pence 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 in-
convenience, so that I think there is little in the
advice of making those changes by easy gradations.
I w^ent on pleasantly, but poor Keimer suffered
grievously, tired of the project, long'd for the
flesh-pots of Egypt, and order'd 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.
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
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 1 45
above eighteen, it was thought most prudent by hei
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 1
expected, set up in my business. Perhaps, too, she
thought my expectations not so well founded as I
imagined them to be.
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 mer-
chant. 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'd on what we
read.
Ralph was mclin'd 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
1.3 e
146 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
poets must, when they first began to write, make as
many faults as he did. Osborne dissuaded him,
assur'd him he had no genius for poetry, and ad-
vis'd him to think of nothing beyond the business
he was bred to ; that, in the mercantile way, tho'
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'd the amusing one's
self with poetry now and then, so far as to improve
one's language, but no farther.
On this it was propos'd that we should each of
us, at our next meeting, produce a piece of our own
composing, in order to improve by our mutual ob-
servations, criticisms, and corrections. As language
and expression were what we had in view, we
excluded all considerations of invention by agreeing
that the task should be a version of the eighteenth
Psalm, which describes the descent of a Deity,
When the time of our meeting drew nigh, Ralph
called on me first, and let me know his piece was
ready. I told him I had been busy, and, having
little inclination, had done nothing. He then show'd
me his piece for my opinion, and I much approv'd
it, as it appear'd to me to have great merit.
"Now," says he, "Osborne 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
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 147
not to have had time, and so produce nothing. We
shall then see what he will say to it." It was
agreed, and I immediately transcrib'd it, that it
might appear in my own hand.
We met ; Watson's performance was read ; there
were some beauties in it, but many defects. Os-
borne's was read ; it was much better ; Ralph did it
justice ; remarked some faults, but applauded the
beauties. He himself had nothing to produce. I
was backward ; seemed desirous of being excused ;
had not had sufficient time to correct, etc. ; but no
excuse could be admitted ; produce I must. It was
read and repeated ; Watson and Osborne gave up
the contest, and join'd in applauding it. Ralph
only made some criticisms, and propos'd 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'd himself
before, as he said, lest I should think it flattery.
"But who would have imagin'd," said he, "that
Franklin had been capable of such a performance ;
such painting, such force, such fire ! He has even
improv'd 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 1"
When we next met, Ralph discovered the trick we
had plaid him, and Osborne was a little laught at.
148 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
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 Pofe
cured him.* He became, however, a pretty good
* In one of the later editions of the Dunciad occur the following
lines :
" silence, ye wolves 1 while Ralph to Cynthia howls.
And makes Night hideous — answer him, ye owls."
Book iiL line 165.
To this the poet adds the following note :
" James Ralph, a name inserted after the first editions, not known till
he \vrit a swearing-piece called Sawney, very abusive of Dr. Swift,
Mr. Gay and myself. These hnes allude to a thing of his entitled Night,
a poem. This low writer attended his own works with panegyrics in
the journals, and once in particular praised himself highly above Mr.
Addison, in wretched remarks upon that author's account of English
poets, printed in a London journal, September, 1728. He was wholly
illiterate and knew no language, not even French. Being advised to
read the rules of dramatic poetry before he began a play, he smiled and
replied, ' Shakespeare writ without rules.' He ended at last in the
common sink of all such writers, a political newspaper, to which he was
recommended by his friend Amal, and received a small pittance for pay ;
and being detected in writing on both sides on one and the same day,
he publicly justified the morality of his conduct."
In the first book of the Dunciad, line 215, there is another allusion to
Ralph:
" And see ! the very Gazetteers give o'er,
Ev'n Ralph repents, and Henley writes no more."
To this Bishop Warburton appends the following note :
" Gazetteers. — A band of ministerial writers hired at the price men-
tioned in the note on book 11, ver. 316, who, on the very day their
patron quitted his post, laid down their paper and declared they would
never more meddle in politics."
In the note here referred to Warburton says :
" The Daily Gazetteer was a title given very properly to certain papers,
each of which lasted but a day. Into this as a common sink was re-
ceived all the trash which had been before dispersed in several journals
and circulated at the public expense of the nation. The authors were
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 1 49
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'd
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'd his
promise.
the same obscure men ; though sometimes relieved by occasional essays
from statesmen, courtiers, bishops, deans and doctors. The meaner
sort were rewarded with money ; others with places or benefices, from
a hundred to a thousand a year. It appears from the Report of tJie
Secret Committee, for inquiring into the conduct of R. Earl of O., ' that
no less than fifty thousand seventy-seven pounds eighteen shillings were
paid to authors and printers of newspapers, such as Free Britons, Daily
Courants, Corn-Cutters, Journals, Gazetteers and other political papers,
between February 10, 1731, and February 10, 1741,' which shows the
benevolence of one minister to have expended for the current dullness
of ten years in Britain double the sum which gained Louis XIV. so
much honor in annual pensions to learned men all over Europe. In
which and in a much longer time not a pension at court nor preferment
in the Church or universities of any consideration was bestowed on any
man distinguished for his learning, separately from party-merit or pam-
phlet-writing."
" It is worth a reflection, that of all the panegyrics bestowed by these
writers on this great minister, not one is at this day extant or remem-
bered ; nor even so much credit done to his personal character by all
they have written as by one short occasional compliment of our author;
" Seen him I have ; but in his happier hour
Of social pleasure, ill exchanged for power ;
Seen him uncumbered by the venal tribe.
Smile without art aud win without a bribe." — Ed.
13*
I50 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
The governor, seeming to like my company, had
me frequently to his house, and his setting me up
was always mention'd as a fixed thing. I was to
take with me letters recommendatory to a number
of his friends, besides the letter of credit to furnish
me with the necessary money for purchasing the
press and types, paper, etc. For these letters I was
appointed to call at different times, when they were
to be ready ; but a future time was still named.
Thus he went on till the ship, whose departure too
had been several times postponed, was on the point
of sailing. Then, when I call'd to take my leave
and receive the letters, his secretary, Dr. Bard,
came out to me and said the governor was extremely
busy in writing, but would be down at Newcastle
before the ship, and there the letters would be de-
livered to me.
Ralph, though married, and having one child,
had determined to accompany me in this voyage.
It was thought he intended to establish a corre-
spondence, and obtain goods to sell on commission ;
but I found afterwards, that, thro' some discon-
tent with his wife's relations, he purposed to leave
her on their hands, and never return again. Hav-
ing taken leave of my friends, and interchang'd
some promises with Miss Read, I left Philadelphia
in the ship, which anchor'd at Newcastle. The
governor was there ; but when I went to his lodging,
the secretary came to me from him with the civillest
message in the world, that he could not then see
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. I51
me, being engaged in business of the utmost im-
portance, but should send the letters to me on board,
wish'd me heartily a good voyage and a speedy
return, etc. I returned on board a little puzzled,
but still not doubting.
Mr. Andrew Hamilton, a famous lawyer of Phila-
delphia, had taken passage in the same ship for
himself and son, and with Mr. Denham, a Quaker
merchant, and Messrs. Onion and Russel, masters
of an iron work in Maryland, had engag'd the
great cabin ; so that Ralph and I were forced to
take up with a berth in the steerage, and none on
board knowing us, were considered as ordinary per-
sons. But Mr. Hamilton and his son (it was James,
since governor) return'd from Newcastle to Phila-
delphia, the father being recall'd by a great fee to
plead for a seized ship ; and, just before we sail'd,
Colonel French coming on board, and showing me
great respect, I was more taken notice of, and, with
my friend Ralph, invited by the other gentlemen to
come into the cabin, there being now room. Ac
cordingly, we remov'd thither.
Understanding that Colonel French had brought
on board the governor's despatches, I ask'd the
captain for those letters that were to be under my
care. He said all were put into the bag together
and he could not then come at them ; but, before
we landed in England, I should have an opportunity
of picking them out; so I was satisfied for the pres-
playing
152 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
ent, and we proceeded on our voyage. We had a
sociable company in the cabin, and Hved uncom-
monly well, having the addition of all Mr. Hamil-
ton's stores, who had laid in plentifully. In this
passage Mr. Denham contracted a friendship for me
that continued during his life. The voyage was
otherwise not a pleasant one, as we had a great deal
of bad weather.
When we came into the Channel, the captain kept
his word with me, and gave me an opportunity of
examining the bag for the governor's letters. I
found none upon which my name was put as under
my care. I picked out six or seven, that, by the
handwriting, I thought might be the promised let-
ters, especially as one of them was directed to
Basket, the king's printer, and another to some sta-
tioner. We arriv'd in London the 24th of Decem-
ber, 1724. I waited upon the stationer, who came
first in my way, delivering the letter as from Gover-
nor Keith. " I don't know such a person," says he ;
but, opening the letter, " O ! this is from Riddles-
den. I have lately found him to be a compleat
rascal, and I will have nothing to do with him, nor
receive any letters from him." So, putting the letter
into my hand, he tum'd on his heel and left me to
serve some customer. I was surprized to find these
were not the governor's letters ; and, after recollect-
ing and comparing circumstances, I began to doubt
tj^i« sincerit}'. I found my friend Denham, and
messagv.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 1 53
opened the whole affair to him. He let me into
Keith's character ; told me there was not the least
probability that he had written any letters for me ;
that no one, who knew him, had the smallest de-
pendence on him ; and he laught at the notion of the
governor's giving me a letter of credit, having, as
he said, no credit to give. On my expressing some
concern about what I should do, he advised me to
endeavor getting some employment in the way of
my business. "Among the printers here," said he,
*' you will improve yourself, and when you return
to America, you will set up to greater advantage."
We both of us happen'd to know, as well as the
stationer, that Riddlesden, the attorney, was a very
knave. He had half ruin'd Miss Read's father by
persuading him to be bound for him. By this letter
it appear'd there was a secret scheme on foot to the
prejudice of Hamilton (suppos'd to be then coming
over with us) ; and that Keith was concerned in it
with Riddlesden. Denham, who was a friend of
Hamilton's, thought he ought to be acquainted with
it ; so, when he arriv'd in England, which was soon
after, partly from resentment and ill-will to Keith
and Riddlesden, and partly from good-will to him, 1
waited on him, and gave him the letter. He thank'd
me cordially, the information being of importance
to him ; and from that time he became my friend,
greatly to my advantage afterwards on many occa-
sions.
But what shall we think ot a governor's playing
154 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
such pitiful tricks, and imposing so grossly on a poor
ignorant boy ! It was a habit he had acquired. He
wish'd to please everybody ; and, having little to
give, he gave expectations. He was otherwise an
ingenious, sensible man, a pretty good writer, and
a good governor for the people, tho' not for his
constituents, the proprietaries, whose instructions he
sometimes disregarded. Several of our best laws
were of his planning and passed during his admin-
istration.
Ralph and I were inseparable companions. We
took lodgings together in Little Britain at three
shillings and sixpence a week — as much as we could
then afford. He found some relations, but they
were poor, and unable to assist him. He now let
me know his intentions of remaining in London,
and that he never meant to return to Philadelphia.
He had brought no money with him, the whole he
could muster having been expended in paying his
passage. I had fifteen pistoles ; so he borrowed
occasionally of me to subsist, while he was looking
out for business. He first endeavored to get into
the playhouse, believing himself qualify'd for an
actor; but Wilkes,* to whom he apply'd, advis'd
him candidly not to think of that employment, as it
was impossible he should succeed in it. Then he
propos'd to Roberts, a publisher in Paternoster Row,
to write for him a weekly paper like the Spectator,
* A comedian. — Ed.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. I 55
on certain conditions, which Roberts did not ap-
prove. Then he endeavored to get employment as
a hackney writer, to copy for the stationers and
lawyers about the Temple, but could find no
vp.cancy.
I immediately got into work at Palmer's, then a
famous printing-house in Bartholomew Close, and
here I continu'd 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'd 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.
At Palmer's I was employed in composing for
the second edition of Wollaston's " Reliijion of
Nature." Some of his reasonings not appearing to
me well founded, I wrote a little metaphysical piece
in which I made remarks on them. It was entitled
" A Dissertation on Liberty and Necessity, Pleasure
and Pain." I inscribed it to my friend Ralph ; I
printed a small number. It occasion'd my being
more consider'd by Mr. Palmer as a young man
of some ingenuity, tho' he seriously expostulated
156 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
with me upon the principles of my pamphlet, which
to him appear'd abominable. My printing this
pamphlet was another erratum.* While I lodg'd
in Little Britain, I made an acquaintance with one
Wilcox, a bookseller, whose shop was at the next
doer. 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'd
a great advantage, and I made as much use of it as
I could.
My pamphlet by some means falling into the
hands of one Lyons, a surgeon, author of a book
entitled " The Infallibility of Human Judgment," it
occasioned an acquaintance between us. He took
great notice of me, called on me often to converse
on those subjects, carried me to the Horns, a pale
alehouse in Lane, Cheapside, and introduced
me to Dr. Mandeville, author of the " Fable of the
Bees," who had a club there, of which he was the
soul, being a most facetious, entertaining companion.
Lyons, too, introduced me to Dr. Pemberton, at
Batson's Coffee-house, who promis'd to give me an
opportunity, some time or other, of seeing Sir Isaac
* Until recently no copy of this tract was supposed to be in existence,
but a copy was discovered a few years ago in London, and a fac-simile
of it obtained for Mr. James Parton, who gave it to the New York His-
torical Society. It is given at length in vol. i. of Parton's Life of Frank-
lin. Another copy has been found in England in different type, showing
that the pamphlet was reprinted in Franklin's lifetime. — Ed.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 157
Newton, of which I was extreamely desirous; but
this never happened.
I had brought over a few curiosities, among which
the principal was a purse made of the asbestos,
which purifies by fire. Sir Hans Sloane heard of
it, came to see me, and invited me to his house in
Bloomsbury Square, where he show'd me all his
curiosities, and persuaded me to let him add that to
the number, for which he paid me handsomely.*
In our house there lodg'd a young woman, a mil-
liner, 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 inti-
mate, she took another lodging, and he followed
her. They liv'd together some time ; but, he being
still out of business, and her income not sufficient
to maintain them with her child, he took a resolu-
tion 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
* From the letter which he addressed Mr. Sloane on this subject one
might infer that the persuasion was on the Doctor's side. " As you are
noted," he wrote — he was then in his 19th year — "to be a lover of curi-
osities, I have informed you of these ; and if you have any inclination to
purchase or see them, let me know your pleasure by a line for me at the
Golden Fan, Little Britain, and I will wait upon you with them. I am,
sir, your most humble servant,
" B. Franklin.
" P. S. I expect to be out of town in two or three days, and therefore
beg an immediate answer." — Ed.
14
158 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
a master of arithmetic and accounts. This, how-
ever, he deemed a business below him, and confi-
dent 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 set-
tled 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), recom-
mending Mrs. T to my care, and desiring me
to write to him, directing for Mr. Franklin, school-
master, at such a place.
He continued to write frequently, sending me
large specimens of an epic poem which he was then
composing, and desiring my remarks and correc-
tions. These I gave him from time to time, but
endeavor'd rather to discourage his proceeding.
One of Young's Satires was then just published. I
copy'd and sent him a great part of it, which set in
a strong light the folly of pursuing the Muscjs with
any hope of advancement by them.* All ^as in
* " Th' abandoned manners of our writing train
May tempt mankind to think religion vain ;
But in their fate, their habit, and their mien,
That gods there are is evidently seen :
Heav'n stands absolv'd by vengeance on their pen.
And marks the murderers of fame from men :
Through meagre jaws they draw their venal breath.
As ghastly as their brothers in Macbeth :
Their feet thro' faithless leather meets the dirt
And oftener changed their principles than shirt:
The transient vestments of these frugal men
Hasten to paper for our mirth again ;
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 1 59
vain ; sheets of the poem continued to come by
every post. In the mean time, Mrs. T , having
on his account lost her friends and business, was
often in distresses, and us'd 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
Too soon (O merry, melancholy fate !)
They beg in rhyme, and warble thro' a grate ;
The man lampooned, forgets it at the sight ;
The friend thro' pity gives, the foe through spite :
And though ftill conscious of his injur'd purse,
Lintot relents, nor Curll can wish them worse.
" An author, 'tis a venerable name !
How few deserve it and what numbers claim.
Unbless'd with sense, above the peers refin'd.
Who shall stand up, dictators to mankind ?
Nay, who dare shine, if not in virtue's cause?
That sole proprietor of just applause.
" Ye restless men ! who pant for letter'd praise.
With whom would you consult to gain the bays?
With those great authors whose fam'd works you read?
'Tis well ; go, then, consult the laurel'd shade.
What answer will the laurel'd shade return?
Hear it and tremble, he commands you bum
The noblest works, his envy'd genius virit.
That boasts of naught more excellent than wit
If this be true, as 'tis a truth most dread.
Woe to the page which has not that to plead 1
Fontaine and Chaucer, dying, wish'd unwTote
The sprightliest efforts of their wanton thought :
Sidney and Waller, brightest sons of fame,
Condemn'd the charm of ages to the flame.
"Thus ends your courted fame — does lucre then.
The sacred thirst of gold, betray your pen?
In prose 'tis blamable, in verse 'tis worse,
Provokes the Muse, extorts Apollo's curse ;
His sacred influence never should be sold ;
'Tis arrant simony to sing for gold ;
'Tis immortality should fire your mind,
Scorn a less paymaster than all mankind."
Young, vol. iii. E/>tst. ii., p. 70.— En
l6o AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
my importance to her, I attempted familiarities
(another erratum) which she repuls'd 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'd all the obligations he had
been under to me. So I found I was never to ex-
pect his repaying me what I lent to him, or advanc'd
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 litde
money beforehand, and, expecting better work, I
left Palmer's to work at Watts's, near Lincoln's Inn
Fields, a still greater printing-house. Here I con-
tinued all the rest of my stay in London -
At my first admission into this printing-house 1
took to working at press, imagining I felt a want of
the bodily exercise I had been us'd to in America,
where presswork is mix'd with composing. I drank
only water ; the other workmen, near fifty in num-
ber, 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 seve-
ral 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 woi'k-
raen. My companion at the press drank every day
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. l6l
a pint before breakfast, a pint at breakfast with hi?
bread and cheese, a pint between breakfast and
dinner, a pint at dinner, a pint in the afternoon
about six o'clock, and another when he had done
his day's work. I thought it a detestable custom ;
but it was necessary, he suppos'd, to drink strong
beer, that he might be strong io 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.
Watts, after some weeks, desiring to have me in
the composing-room, I left the pressmen ; a new
bien venu or sum for drink, being five shillings, was
demanded of me by the compositors. I thought it
an imposition, as I had paid below ; the master
thought so too, and forbad my paying it. I stood
out two or three weeks, was accordingly considered
as an excommunicate, and had so many little pieces
of private mischief done me, by mixing my sorts,
transposing my pages, breaking my matter, etc.,
etc., if 1 were ever so little out of the room, and all
ascribed to the chappel ghost, which they said ever
14*
1 62 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
haunted those not regularly admitted, that, notwith-
standing the master's protection, I found myself
oblig'd to comply and pay the money, convinc'd
of the folly of being on ill terms with those one is
to live with continually.
I was now on a fair footing wuth them, and soon
acquir'd considerable influence. I propos'd some
reasonable alterations in their chappel* laws, and
carried them against all opposition. From my ex-
ample, a great part of them left their muddling
breakfast of beer, and bread, and cheese, finding they
could with me be suppyl'd from a neighboring house
with a large porringer of hot water-gruel, sprinkled
with pepper, crumb'd with bread, and a bit of but-
ter in it, for the price of a pint of beer, viz., three
half-pence. This was a more comfortable as well
as cheaper breakfast, and kept their heads clearer.
Those who continued sotting with beer all day, were
often, by not paying, out of credit at the alehouse,
and us'd to make interest with me to get beer ; their
light, as they phrased it, being out. I watch'd the
pay-table on Saturday night, and collected what I
* " A printing-house is always called a chapel by the workmen, the
origin of which appears to have been, that printing was first carried on
in England in an antient chapel converted into a printing-house, and the
title has been preserved by tradition. The bien venu among the printers
answers to the terms entrance and footing among mechanics ; thus a
journeyman, on entering a printing-house, was accustomed to pay one
or more gallons of beer for the good of the chapel : this custom was
falling into disuse thirty years ago ; it is very properly rejected entirely
in the United States."— W. T. F.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 163
Stood engag'd for them, having to pay sometimes
near thirty shillings a week on their accounts. This,
and my being esteem'd a pretty good riggtte, that
is, a jocular verbal satirist, supported my conse-
quence in the society. My constant attendance (I
never making a St. Monday) recommended me to
the master ; and my uncommon quickness at com-
posing occasioned my being put upon all work of
dispatch, which was generally better paid. So I
went on now very agreeably.
My lodging in Little Britain being too remote, I
found another in Duke-street, opposite to the Rom-
ish Chapel. It was two pair of stairs backwards,
at an Italian, warehouse. A widow lady kept the
house ; she had a daughter, and a maid servant, and
a journeyman who attended the warehouse, but
lodg'd abroad. After sending to inquire my char-
acter at the house where I last lodg'd, she agreed
to take me in at the same rate, 3s. 6d. per week ;
cheaper, as she said, from the protection she ex-
pected in having a man lodge in the house. She
was a widow, an elderly woman; had been bred a
Protestant, being a clergyman's daughter, but was
converted to the Catholic religion by her husband,
whose memory she much revered ; had lived much
among people of distinction, and knew a thousand
anecdotes of them as far back as the times of Charles
the Second. She was lame in her knees with the
gout, and, therefore, seldom stirred out of her room,
so sometimes wanted company ; and hers was so
164 AUTOBIOGRAPHT OF
highly amusing to me, that I was sure to spend an
evening with her whenever she desired it. Our
supper was only half an anchovy each, on a very
little strip of bread and butter, and half a pint of ale
between us ; but the entertainment was in her con-
versation. My always keeping good hours, and
giving little trouble in the family, made her unwill-
ing to part with me ; so that, when I talk'd of a
lodging I had heard of, nearer my business, for two
shillings a week, which, intent as I now was on
saving money, made some difference, she bid me
not think of it, for she would abate me two shil-
lings a week for the future ; so I remained with her
at one shilling and sixpence as long as I staid in
London.
In a garret of her house there lived a maiden lady
of seventy, in the most retired manner, of whom
my landlady gave me this account : that she was a
Roman Catholic, had been sent abroad when young,
and lodg'd in a nunnery with an intent of becoming
a nun ; but, the country not agreeing with her, she
returned to England, where, there being no nunnery,
she had vow'd to lead the life of a nun, as near as
might be done in those circumstances. Accord-
ingly, she had given all her estate to charitable uses,
reserving only twelve pounds a year to live on, and
out of this sum she still gave a great deal in charity,
living herself on water-gruel only, and using no fire
but to boil it. She had lived many years in that
garret, being permitted to remain there gratis by
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 165
successive Catholic tenants of the house below, as
they deemed it a blessing to have her there. A priest
visited her to confess her everyday. "1 have ask'd
her," says my landlady, " how she, as she liv'd,
could possibly find so much employment for a con-
fessor?" "Oh," said she, "it is impossible to avoid
vain thoughts''' I was permitted once to visit her.
She was chearful and polite, and convers'd plea-
santly. The room was clean, but had no other
furniture than a matras, a table with a crucifix
and book, a stool which she gave me to sit on, and
a picture over the chimney of Saint Veronica dis-
playing her handkerchief, with the miraculous figure
of Christ's bleeding face on it, which she explained
to me with great seriousness. She look'd pale, but
was never sick ; and I give it as another instance
on how small an income, life and health may be
supported.
At Watts's printing-house I contracted an acquaint-
ance with an ingenious young man, one Wygate,
who, having wealthy relations, had been better
educated than most printers ; was a tolerable Latin-
ist, spoke French, and lov'd reading. I taught him
and a friend of his to swim at twice going into the
river, and they soon became good swimmers. They
introduc'd me to some gentlemen from the country,
who went to Chelsea by water to see the College
and Don Saltero's curiosities. In our return, at the
request of the company, whose curiosity Wygate
had excited, I stripped and leaped into the river,
1 66 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
and swam from near Chelsea to Blackfryar's, per-
forming on the way many feats of activity, both
upon and under water, that surpris'd and pleas'd
those to whom they were novelties.
I had from a child been ever delig^hted with this
exercise, had studied and practis'd all Thevenot's
motions and positions, added some of my own, aim-
ing at the graceful and easy as well as the useful.
All these I took this occasion of exhibiting to the
company, and was much flatter'd by their admira-
tion ; and Wygate, who was desirous of becoming
a master, grew more and more attach'd to me on
that account, as well as from the similarity of our
studies. He at length proposed to me travelling all
over Europe together, supporting ourselves every-
where by working at our business. I was once
inclined to it ; but, mentioning it to my good friend
Mr. Denham, with whom I often spent an hour
when I had leisure, he dissuaded me from it, advis-
ing me to think only of returning to Pennsilvania,
which he was now about to do.
I must record one trait of this good man's char-
acter. He had formerly been in business at Bristol,
but failed in debt to a number of people, compounded
and went to America. There, by a close applica-
tion to business as a merchant, he acquir'd a plen-
tiful fortune in a few years. Returning to England
in the ship with me, he invited his old creditors to
an entertainment, at which he thank'd them for the
easy composition they had favored him with, and,
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 1 6/
when they expected nothing but the treat, every
man at the first remove found under his plate an
order on a banker for the full amount of the unpaid
remainder with interest.
He now told me he was about to return to Phila-
delphia, and should carry over a great quantity of
goods in order to open a store there. He propos'd
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 profit-
able ; and, if I manag'd well, would establish me
handsomely. The thing pleas'd me ; for I was
grown tired of London, remembered with pleasure
the happy months I had spent in Pennsylvania, and
wish'd again to see it ; therefore I immediately
agreed on the terms of fifty pounds a year, Penn-
sylvania money ; less, indeed, than my present
gettings as a compositor, but affording a better
prospect.
I now took leave of printing, as I thought, for
ever, and was daily employ'd in my new business,
going about with Mr. Denham among the tradesmen
to purchase various articles, and seeing them pack'd
up, doing errands, calling upon workmen to dis-
patch, etc. ; and, when all was on board, I had a
few days' leisure. On one of these days, I was, to
1 68 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
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's, 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'd 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 Wynd-
ham, become Earl of Egremont, which I shall men-
tion in its place.
Thus I spent about eighteen months in London ;
most part of the time I work'd 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'd him, not-
withstanding, for he had many amiable qualities. I
had by no means improv'd my fortune ; but I had
picked up some very ingenious acquaintance, whose
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 169
conversation was of great advantage to me ; and I
had read considerably.
We sail'd from Gravesend on the 23d of July,
1726. For the incidents of the voyage, I refer you
to my Journal, where you will find them all minutely
related. Perhaps the most important part of that
journal is the plan* to be found in it, which I
formed at sea, for regulating my future conduct in
life. It is the more remarkable, as being formed
when I was so young, and yet being pretty faith-
fully adhered to quite thro' to old age.
We landed in Philadelphia on the nth of Octo-
ber, where I found sundry alterations. Keith was no
longer governor, being superseded by Major Gordon.
I met him walking the streets as a common citizen.
He seem'd a little asham'd at seeing me, but pass'd
without saying any thing. I should have been as
much asham'd at seeing Miss Read, had not her
friends, despairing with reason of my return after
the receipt of my letter, persuaded her to marry
another, one Rogers, a potter, which was done in
my absence. With him, however, she was never
happy, and soon parted from him, refusing to cohabit
with him or bear his name, it being now said that
he had another wife. He was a worthless fellow.
* The " plan" referred to as the most " important part of the Journal,"
is not found in the manuscript Journal which was left among Franklin's
papers. The copy of the Journal that was found was made at Reading
in 1787; the original is probably lost. See Sparks' Memoir of Fratik-
lin. Appendix II. — Ed.
15 H
I/O AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
tho' an excellent workman, which was the tempta-
tion to her friends. He got into debt, ran away in
1727 or 1728, went to the West Indies, and died
there. Keimer had got a better house, a shop well
supply'd with stationery, plenty of new types, a
number of hands, tho' none good, and seem'd to
have a great deal of business.
Mr. Denham took a store in Water-street, where
we open'd our goods ; I attended the business dili-
gently, studied accounts, and grew, in a little time,
expert at selling. We lodg'd and boarded together ;
he counsell'd me as a father, having a sincere re-
gard for me. I respected and lov'd him, and we
might have gone on together very happy ; but, in
the beginning of February, i72|-, when I had just
pass'd my twenty-first year, we both were taken ill.
My distemper was a pleurisy, which very nearly
carried me off. I suffered a good deal, gave up the
point in my own mind, and was rather disappointed
when I found myself recovering, regretting, in some
degree, that I must now, some time or other, have
all that disagreeable work to do over again. I foi-
get what his distemper was ; it held him a long
time, and at length carried him off. He left me a
small legacy in a nuncupative will, as a token of
his kindness for me, and he left me once more to
the wide world ; for the store was taken into the
care of his executors, and my emploj^ment undei
him ended.
My brother-in-law. Holmes, being now at Phila-
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 171
delphia, advised my return to my business; and
Keimer tempted me, with an "offer of large wages
by the year, to come and take the management of
his printing-house, that he might better attend his
stationer's shop. I had heard a bad character of
him in London from his wife and her friends, and
was not fond of having any more to do with him. I
tri'd for farther employment as a merchant's clerk ;
but, not readily meeting with any, I clos'd again
with Keimer. I found in his house these hands :
Hugh Meredith, a Welsh Pensilvanian, thirty
years of age, bred to country work ; honest, sensi-
ble, had a great deal of sohd observation, was some-
thing of a reader, but given to drink. Stephen
Potts, a young countryman of full age, bred to the
same, of uncommon natural parts, and great wit
and humor, but a little idle. These he had agreed
with at extream low wages per week, to be rais'd a
shilling every three months, as they would deserve
by improving in their business ; and the expectation
of these high wages, to come on hereafter, was
what he had drawn them in with. Meredith was to
work at press, Potts at book-binding, which he, by
agreement, was to teach them, though he knew
neither one nor t'other. John , a wild Irish-
man, brought up to no business, whose service, for
four years, Keimer had purchased from the captain
of a ship ; he, too, was to be made a pressman.
George Webb, an Oxford scholar, whose time for
four years he had likewise bought, intending him
172 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
for a compositor, of whom more presently ; and
David Harry, a country boy, whom he had taken
apprentice.
1 soon perceiv'd that the intention of engaging
me at wages so much higher than he had been us'd
to give, was, to have these raw, cheap hands form'd
thro' me ; and, as soon as I had instructed them, then
they being all articled to him, he should be able to
do without me. I went on, however, very cheerfully,
put his printing-house in order, which had been in
great confusion, and brought his hands by degrees
to mind their business and to do it better.
It was an odd thing to find an Oxford scholar in
the situation of a bought servant. He was not more
than eighteen years of age, and gave me this ac-
count of himself; that he was born in Gloucester,
educated at a grammar-school there, had been dis-
tinguish'd among the scholars for some apparent
superiority in performing his part, when they ex-
hibited plays ; belong'd to the Witty Club there, and
had written some pieces in prose and verse, which
were printed in the Gloucester newspapers ; thence
he was sent to Oxford ; where he continued about a
year, but not well satisfi'd, wishing of all things to
see London, and become a player. At length, re
ceiving his quarterly allowance of fifteen guineas,
instead of discharging his debts he walk'd out of
town, hid his gown in a furze bush, and footed it
to London, where, having no friend to advise him.,
he fell into bad company, soon spent his guineas,
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 1 73
found no means of being introduc'd among the
players, grew necessitous, pawn'd his cloaths, and
wanted bread. Walking the street very hungry,
and not knowing what to do with himself, a crimp's
bill was put into his hand, offering immediate en-
tertainment and encouragement to such as would
bind themselves to serve in America. He went
directly, sign'd the indentures, was put into the ship,
and came over, never writing a line to acquaint his
friends what was become of him. He was lively,
witty, good-natur'd, and a pleasant companion, but
idle, thoughtless, and imprudent to the last degree.
John, the Irishman, soon ran away ; with the rest
I began to live very agreeably, for they all respected
me the more, as they found Keimer incapable of
instructing them, and that from me they learned
something daily. We never worked on Saturday,
that being Keimer's Sabbath, so I had two days
for reading. My acquaintance with ingenious peo-
ple in the town increased. Keimer himself treated
me with great civility and apparent regard, and
nothing now made me uneasy but my debt to Ver-
non, which I was yet unable to pay, being hitherto
but a poor ceconomist. He, however, kindly made
no demand of it.
Our printing-house often wanted sorts, and there
was no letter-founder in America ; I had seen types
cast at James's in London, but without much atten-
tion to the manner ; however, I now contrived a
mould, made use of the letters we had as puncheons,
15*
174 AUTOBIOGRAPHT OF
Struck the matrices in lead, and thus supply'd in a
pretty tolerable way all deficiencies. I also en-
grav'd several things on occasion ; I made the ink ;
I was warehouseman, and everything, and, in short,
quite a fac-totum.
But, however serviceable I might be, I found that
my services became every day of less importance, as
the other hands improv'd in the business ; and, when
Keimer paid my second quarter's wages, he let me
know that he felt them too heavy, and thought I
should make an abatement. He grew by degrees
less civil, put on more of the master, frequently
found fault, was captious, and seem'd ready for an
outbreaking. I w^ent on, nevertheless, with a good
deal of patience, thinking that his encumber'd cir-
cumstances were partly the cause. At length a
trifle snapt our connections ; for, a great noise hap-
pening near the court-house, I put my head out of
the window to see what was the matter. Keimer,
being in the street, look'd up and saw me, call'd out
to me in a loud voice and angry tone to mind my
business, adding some reproachful words, that net-
tled me the more for their publicity, all the neigh-
bors who were looking out on the same occasion,
being witnesses how I was treated. He came up
immediately into the printing-house, continu'd the
quarrel, high words pass'd on both sides, he gave
me the quarter's warning we had stipulated, ex-
pressing a wish that he had not been oblig'd to so
long a warning. I told him his wish was unneces-
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 175
sary, for I would leave him that instant ; and so,
taking my hat, walk'd out of doors, desiring Mere-
dith, whom I saw below, to take care of some things
I left, and bring them to my lodgings.
Meredith came accordingly in the evening, when
we talked my affair over. He had conceiv'd a
great regard for me, and was very unwilling that 1
should leave the house while he remain'd in it. He
dissuaded me from returning to my native country,
which I began to think of; he reminded me that
Keimer was in debt for all he possess'd ; that his
creditors began to be uneasy ; that he kept his shop
miserably, sold often without profit for ready money,
and often trusted without keeping accounts ; that he
must therefore fail, which would make a vacancy I
might profit of. I objected my want of money. He
then let me know that his father had a high opinion
of me, and, from some discourse that had pass'd be-
tween them, he was sure would advance money to
set us up, if I would enter into partnership with
him. " My time," says he, " will be out with
Keimer in the spring ; by that time we may have
our press and types in from London. I am sensible
I am no workman ; if you like it, your skill in the
business shall be set against the stock I furnish, and
we will share the profits equally."
The proposal was agreeable, and I consented ;
his father was in town and approv'd of it ; the more
as he saw I had great influence with his son, had
prevail'd on him to abstain long from dram-drink-
176 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
ing, and he hop'd might break him of that wretched
habit entirely, when we came to be so closely con-
nected. I gave an inventory to the father, who
carry'd it to a merchant ; the things were sent for,
the secret was to be kept till they should arrive, and
in the mean time I was to get work, if I could, at
the other printing-house. But I found no vacancy
there, and so rem.ain'd idle a few days, when Keimer,
on a prospect of being employ'd to print some paper
money in New Jersey, which would require cuts
and various types that I only could supply, and
apprehending Bradford might engage me and get
the jobb from him, sent me a very civil message, that
old friends should not part for a few words, the
effect of sudden passion, and wishing me to return.
Meredith persuaded me to comply, as it would give
more opportunity for his improvement under my
daily instructions; so 1 return'd, and we went on
more smoothly than for some time before. The
New Jersey jobb was obtain'd, I contriv'd a copper-
plate press for it, the first that had been seen in the
country ; I cut several ornaments and checks for
the bills. We went together to Burlington, where
I executed the whole to satisfaction ; and he received
so large a sum for the work as to be enabled thereby
to keep his head much longer above water.
At Burlington I made an acquaintance with many
principal people of the province. Several of them
had been appointed by the Assembly a committee
to attend the press, and take care that no more
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 177
bills were printed than the law directed. They
were therefore, by turns, constantly with us, and
generally he who attended, brought with him a
friend or two for company. My mind having been
much more improv'd by reading than Keimer's, I
suppose it was for that reason my conversation
seem'd to be more valu'd. They had me to their
houses, introduced me to their friends, and show'd
me much civility ; while he, tho' the master,
was a little neglected. In truth, he was an odd
fish ; ignorant of common life, fond of rudely op-
posing receiv'd opinions, slovenly to extream dirti-
ness, enthusiastic in some points of religion, and a
little knavish withal.
We continu'd there near three months ; and by
that time I could reckon among my acquired friends,
Judge Allen, Samuel Bustill, the secretary of the
Province, Isaac Pearson, Joseph Cooper, and several
of the Smiths, members of Assembly, and Isaac De-
cow, the surveyor-general. The latter was a shrewd,
sagacious old man, who told me that he began for
himself, when young, by wheeling clay for the
brickmakers, learned to write after he was of age,
carri'd the chain for surveyors, who taught him
surveying, and he had now by his industry, acquir'd
a good estate; and says he, "I foresee that you
will soon work this man out of his business, and
make a fortune in it at Philadelphia." He had not
then the least intimation of my intention to set up
there or anywhere. These friends were afterwards
H*
i;8 AUTOBIOGRAPIir OF
of great use to me, as I occasionally was to some of
them. They all continued their regard for me as
long as they lived.
Before I enter upon my public appearance in
business, it may be well to let you know the then
state of my mind with regard to my principles and
morals, that you may see how far those influenc'd
the future events of my life. My parents had early
given me religious impressions, and brought me
through my childhood piously in the Dissenting
way. But I was scarce fifteen, when, after doubt-
ing by turns of several points, as I found them dis-
puted in the different books I read, I began to doubt
of Revelation itself. Some books against Deism
fell into my hands ; they were said to be the sub-
stance of sermons preached at Boyle's Lectures.
It happened that they wrought an effect on me
quite contrary to what was intended by them ; for
the arguments of the Deists, which were quoted to
be refuted, appeared to me much stronger than the
refutations ; in short, I soon became a thorough
Deist. My arguments perverted some others, par-
ticularly Collins and Ralph ; but, each of them
having afterwards wrong'd me greatly without the
least compunction, and recollecting Keith's conduct
towards me (who was another freethinker), and my
own towards Vernon and Miss Read, which at
times gave me great trouble, I began to suspect that
this doctrine, tho' it might be true, was not very
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 1 79
useful. My London pamphlet,* which had for its
motto these lines of Dryden :
" Whatever is, is right. Though purblind man
Sees but a part o' the chain, the nearest link :
His eyes not carrying to the equal beam,
That poises all above ;"
and from the attributes of God, his infinite wisdoui,
goodness and power, concluded that nothing could
possibly be wrong in the world, and that vice and
virtue were empty distinctions, no such things exist-
* Printed in 1725.
Dr. Franklin in a part of a letter to Mr. B. Vaughan, dated Nov. 9,
1779, gives a further account of this pamphlet, in these words :
" It was addressed to Mr. J. R., that is, James Ralph, then a youth
of about my age, and my intimate friend ; afterwards a political writer
and historian. The purport of it was to prove the doctrine of fate, from
the supposed attributes of God ; in some such manner as this : that in
erecting and governing the world, as he was infinitely wise, he knew
what would be best ; infinitely good, he must be disposed, and infinitelj
powerful, he must be able to execute it : consequently all is right.
There were only an hundred copies printed, of which I gave a few to
fi-iends, and afterwards disliking the piece, as conceiving it might have
an ill tendency, I burnt the rest, except one copy, the margin of which
was filled with manuscript notes by Syms, author of the Infallibility of
Human Judgment, who was at that time another of my acquaintance
in London. I was not nineteen years of age when it was written. In
1730, I wrote a piece on the other side of the question, which began
with laying for its foundation this fact : ' That almost all men in all ages
and countries, have at times made use of prayer.' Thence I reasoned,
that if all things are ordained, prayer must among the rest be ordained.
]]ut as prayer can produce no change in things that are ordained, pray-
ing must then be useless and an absurdity. God would therefore not
ordain praying if everything else was ordained. But praying exists,
therefore all things are not ordained, etc. This pamphlet was never
printed, and the manuscript has been long lost. The great uncertainty
J found in metaphysical reasonings disgusted me, and I quitted that
kind of reading and study for others more satisfactory." — Ed.
l80 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
ing, appear'd now not so clever a performance as I
once thought it ; and I doubted whether some error
had not insinuated itself unperceiv'd into my argu-
ment, so as to infect all that follow'd, as is common
in metaphysical reasonings.
I grew convinc'd that triilh, sincerity and integ-
rity in dealings between man and man were of the
utmost importance to the felicity of life ; and I
form'd written resolutions, which still remain in my
journal book, to practice them ever while I lived.
Revelation had indeed no weight with me, as such ;
but I entertain'd an opinion that, though certain
actions might not be bad because they were for-
bidden by it, or good because it commanded them,
yet probably those actions might be forbidden
because they were bad for us, or commanded
because they were beneficial to us, in their own
natures, all the circumstances of things considered.
And this persuasion, with the kind hand of Provi-
dence, or some guardian angel, or accidental favor-
able circumstances and situations, or all together,
preserved me, thro' this dangerous time of youth,
and the hazardous situations I was sometimes in
among strangers, remote from the eye and advice
of my father, without any willful gross immorality
or injustice, that might have been expected from my
want of religion.* I say willful, because the in-
* The words, " Some foolish intrigues with low women excepted,
which from the expense were rather more prejudicial to me than to
them," effaced on the revision, and the sentence which follows in the
text written in the margin. — En.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. l8l
stances I have mentioned had something of necessity
in them, from my youth, inexperience, and the
knavery of others. I had therefore a tolerable
character to begin the world with ; I valued it
properly, and determin'd to preserve it.
We had not been long return'd to Philadelphia
before the new types arriv'd from London. We
settled with Keimer, and left him by his consent
before he heard of it. We found a house to hire
near the market, and took it. To lessen the rent,
which was then but twenty-four pounds a year,
tho' I have since known it to let for seventy, we
took in Thomas Godfrey, a glazier, and his family,
who were to pay a considerable part of it to us, and
we to board with them. We had scarce opened our
letters and put our press in order, before George
House, an acquaintance of mine, brought a country-
man to us, whom he had met in the street inquiring
for a printer. All our cash was now expended in
the variety of particulars we had been obliged to
procure, and this countryman's five shillings, being
our first-fruits, and coming so seasonably, gave me
more pleasure than any crown I have since earned ;
and the gratitude I felt toward House has made me
often more ready than perhaps I should otherwise
have been to assist young beginners.
There are croakers in every country, always bod-
ing its ruin. Such a one then lived in Philadelphia ;
a person of note, an elderly man, with a wise look
and a very grave manner of speaking ; his name
16
1 82 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
was Samuel Mickle. This gentleman, a stranger
to me, stopt one day at my door, and asked me
if I was the young man who had lately opened a
new printing-house. Being answered in the affirm-
ative, he said he was sorry for me, because it was
an expensive undertaking, and the expense would
be lost ; for Philadelphia was a sinking place, the
people already half bankrupts, or near being so ;
all appearances to the contrary, such as new
buildings and the rise of rents, being to his certain
knowledge fallacious ; for they were, in fact, among
the things that would soon ruin us. And he gave
me such a detail of misfortunes now existing, or
that were soon to exist, that he left me half melan-
choly. Had I known him before I engaged in this
business, probably I never should have done it.
This man continued to live in this decaying place,
and to declaim in the same strain, refusing for many
years to buy a house there, because all was going
to destruction ; and at last I had the pleasure of
seeing him give five times as much for one as he
might have bought it for when he first began his
croaking.
I should have mentioned before, that, in the au-
tumn of the preceding year, I had form'd most of my
ingenious acquaintance into a club of mutual im-
provement, which we called the Junto ; we met on
Friday evenings. The rules that I drew up re-
quired that every member, in his turn, should pro-
duce one or more queries on any point of Morals,
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 183
Politics, or Natural Philosophy, to be discuss'd by
the company ; and once in three months produce
and read an essay of his own writing, on any sub-
iect he pleased. Our debates were to be under the
direction of a president, and to be conducted in the
sincere spirit of inquiry after truth, without fondness
for dispute, or desire of victory; and, to prevent
warmth, all expressions of positiveness in opinions,
or direct contradiction, were after some time made
contraband, and prohibited under small pecuniary
penalties.
The first members were Joseph Breintnal, a copyer
of deeds for the scriveners, a good-natur'd, friendly,
middle-ag'd man, a great lover of poetry, reading
all he could meet with, and writing some that was
tolerable ; very ingenious in many little Nicknack-
eries, and of sensible conversation.
Thomas Godfrey, a self-taught mathematician,
great in his way, and afterward inventor of what is
now called Hadley's Quadrant. But he knew
little out of his way, and was not a pleasing com-
panion ; as, like most great mathematicians I have
met with, he expected universal precision in every
thing said, or was for ever denying or distinguish-
ing upon trifles, to the disturbance of all conversa-
tion. He soon left us.
Nicholas Scull, a surveyor, afterward surveyor-
general, who lov'd books, and sometimes made a
few verses.
1 84 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
William Farsons, bred a shoemaker, but, loving
reading, had acquir'd a considerable share of mathe-
matics, which he first studied with a view to astrolo-
gy, that he afterwards laught at it. He also became
surveyor-general.
William Maugridge, a joiner, a most exquisite
mechanic, and a solid, sensible man.
Hugh Meredith, Stephen Potts, and George Webb
I have characteriz'd before.
Robert Grace, a young gentleman of some fortune,
generous, lively, and witty ; a lover of punning and
of his friends.
And William Coleman, then a merchant's clerk,
about my age, who had the coolest, clearest head,
the best heart, and the exactest morals of almost any
man I ever met with. He became afterwards a
merchant of great note, and one of our provincial
judges. Our friendship continued without interrup-
tion to his death, upward of forty years ; and the
club continued almost as long, and was the best
school of philosoph}^ morality, and politics that
then existed in the province ; for our queries, which
were read the week preceding their discussion, put
us upon reading with attention upon the several sub-
jects, that we might speak more to the purpose ;
and here, too, we acquired better habits of conver-
sation, every thing being studied in our rules which
might prevent our disgusting each other. ' From
hence the long continuance of the club, which 1
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 1 85
shall have frequent occasion to speak further of
hereafter.*
* In a careful and interesting paper read before the Araerican Philo-
sophical Society by Dr. Patterson, one of its Vice-Presidents, on the
25th of May, 1843, in commemoration of its Centennial Anniversary,
will be found much new and important information about the Junto.
As this paper is not generally accessible, my readers will excuse me for
quoting somewhat freely from its pages. Dr. Patterson says :
"The Junto was, properly speaking, a debating society. At first it
met at a tavern ; but subsequently at the house of one of the members,
Robert Grace, whom Franklin characterizes as ' a gentleman of some
fortune, generous, lively, and witty, a lover of punning and of his
friends.' I am happy to say that Robert Grace is not without his suc-
cessors in our present society.
" One of the rules of the Club was that the institution should be kept
a secret ; the intention being, as Franklin states, to avoid applications
of improper persons for admittance. The number of members at any
one time was limited to twelve, but vacancies were filled as they oc-
curred, and the names of twenty-three members are preserved.
" On admission into the Club, a course was followed which is too re-
markable in itself, and in its bearing upon a difficult question in the
history of this Society, not to be here introduced. It is thus presented
in Franklin's papers :
" ' Any person to be qualified — to stand up, and lay his hand upon his
breast, and be asked these questions, viz. :
" ' 1st. Have you any particular disrespect to any present member ?
Answer : I have not.
" ' 2d. Do you sincerely declare that you love mankind in general, of
what profession or religion soever ? Ans. I do.
" ' 3d. Do you think any person ought to be harmed in his body,
name, or goods, for mere speculative opinions, or his external way of
worship .'' Ans. No.
" '4th. Do you love truth for truth's sake, and will you endeavor im-
partially to find and receive it yourself, and communicate it to others ?
Ans. Yes.'
" No minutes of the proceedings of the original Junto are preserved,
but Franklin mentions in his Autobiography several questions of great
interest which were discussed at it, and several pieces read before it
and afterwards published in his newspaper.
16*
1 86 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
But my giving this account of it here is to show
something of the interest I had, every one of these
" It was at one time proposed to increase the number of members ;
but to this Franklin was opposed, and instead of it he made ' a proposal
that every member separately should form a subordinate club, with the
same rules respecting queries, etc., and without informing them of the
connection with the Junto.' ' This project was approved, and every mem-
ber undertook to form a club ; but they did not all succeed. Five or six
only were completed, which were called by different names, as the Vine,
the Union, the Band.' Of these subordinate companies, a brief para-
graph in Franklin's Life is the only remaining record.
" While Franklin was abroad, he shows by his correspondence that
he still held the institution of his youth in affectionate remembrance.
This appears repeatedly in his letters to his friend Hugh Roberts. He
calls it 'the good old Club,' 'the ancient Junto.' So late as 1765, he
says : ' I wish you would continue to meet the Junto, notwithstanding
that some effects of our political misunderstanding may sometimes ap-
pear there. It is now perhaps one of the oldest clubs, as I think it was
formerly one of the best, in the king's dominions.' Even in 1766, he
writes : ' Remember me affectionately to the Junto.'
" It appears, then, that the Junto continued in existence about forty
years. But did it keep up its original character ? This may well be
doubted. The members grew gradually to be old men, and it is hardly
to be supposed that they would submit to the task of writing essays, or
would formally propose questions, and afterwards debate them. Their for-
tunes were made, their education completed ; and it is therefore much more
probable that when the remnant of the once youthful and active Junto met
together, they indulged themselves in social conversation and temperate
conviviality. Such is said to be the tradition in the Roberts family ; and
it is confirmed by a letter from Dr. Franklin to their ancestor, written
in 1761, in which he says: 'You tell me you sometimes visit the an-
cient Junto. I wish you would do it oftener. Since we have held that Club
till we are grown gray together, let us hold it out to the end. For my
own part, I fmd I love company, chat, a laugh, a glass, and even a song,
as well as ever ; and at the same time relish better than I used to do the
grave obser^'ations and wise sentences of old men's conversation ; so
that I am sure the Junto will be still as agreeable to me as it ever has
been. I therefore hope it will not be discontinued, as long as we ara
able to crawl together.' "
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 1 87
exertinsr themselves in recommending business to us.
Breintnal particularly procur'd us from the Quakers
In May, 1765, Hugh Roberts writes as follows to Dr. Franklin: "I
sometimes visit the worthy remains of the ancient Junto, for whom I
have a high esteem ; but alas, the political, polemical divisions have in
some measure contributed to lessen that harmony we there formeily
enjoyed." To this letter Franklin answrt'S in July following, urging
his friend's attendance at the Junto, almost in the same terms used some
years before, and which we have just quoted, and then closes his ex-
hortation in the following touching words : " We loved and still love
one another. We are grown gray together, and yet it is too early to
part. Let us sit till the evening of life is spent. The last hours are
always the most joyous. When we can stay no longer, it is time enough
then to bid each other good-night, separate and go quietly to bed."
The following rules for the regulation of the Junto, drawn up in 1728,
will give a clearer idea of its character, and, I may add, of the character
of its members. Forty years later the Junto became the nucleus of the
American Philosophical Society, of which Franklin was the first Pre-
sident :*
Have you read over these queries this morning, in order to consider
what you might have to offer the Junto touching any one of them ? viz. :
1. Have you met with anything in the author you last read, remark-
able or suitable to be communicated to the Junto, particularly in his-
tory, morality, poetry, physic, travels, mechanic arts, or other parts of
knowledge ?
2. What new story have you lately heard, agreeable for telling in
conversation ?
3. Hath any citizen in your knowledge failed in his business lately,
and what have you heard of the cause ?
4. Have you lately heard of any citizen's thriving well, and by what
means ?
5. Have you lately heard how any present rich man, here or else-
where, got his estate ?
6. Do you know of a fellow-citizen, who has lately done a worthy
action, deserving praise and imitation ; or who has lately committed aii
error, proper for us to be warned against and avoid ?
• Sharks' ll^'orks of Franklin, vol. ii. p. 9.
1 88 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
the printing forty sheets of their history, the rest
being to be done by Keimer ; and upon this we
7. What unhappy effects of intemperance have you lately observed
or heard ; of imprudence, of passion, or of any other vice or folly ?
8. What happy effects of temperance, of prudence, of moderation, or
of any other virtue ?
9. Have you or any of your acquaintance been lately sick or
wounded? If so, what remedies were used, and what were their
effects ?
10. Whom do you know that are shortly going voyages or journeys,
if one should have occasion to send by them ?
11. Do you think of any thing at present in which the Junto may be
serviceable to mankind, to their country, to their friends, or to them-
selves ?
12. Hath any deserving stranger arnved in town since last meeting,
that you have heard of? And what have you heard or observed of his
character or merits ? And whether, think you, it lies in the power of
the Junto to oblige him, or encourage him as he deserves ?
13. Do you know of any deserving young beginner lately set up, whom
it lies in the power of the Junto any way to encourage ?
14. Have you lately observed any defect in the laws of your country,
of which it would be proper to move the legislature for an amendment ?
Or do you know of any beneficial law that is wanting ?
15. Have you lately observed any encroachment on the just liberties
of the people ?
16. Hath anybody attacked your reputation lately? And what can
the Junto do towards securing it ?
17. Is there any man whose friendship you want, and which the Junto,
or any of them, can procure for you ?
18. Have you lately heard any member's character attacked, and how
have you defended it ?
19. Hath any man injured you from whom it is in the power of the
Junto to procure redress ?
20. In what manner can the Junto, or any of them, assist you in any
of your honorable designs ?
21. Have you any weighty affair on hand, in which you think the ad-
' xe of the Junto may be of service ?
22. What benefits have you lately received from any man not pre-
sent ?
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 1 89
work'd exceedingly hard, for the price was low. It
was a folio, pro patria size, in pica, with long primer
notes. I compos'd of it a sheet a day, and Mere-
dith worked it off at press ; it was often eleven at
night, and sometimes later, before I had finished my
distribution for the next day's work, for the little
23. Is there any difficulty in matters of opinion, of justice, and injus-
tice, which you would gladly have discussed at this time ?
24. Do you see any thing amiss in the present customs or proceedings
of the Junto which might be amended ?
When the Philosophical Society was instituted, a book containing
some of the questions discussed by the Junto was put into the hands of
Dr. William Smith, who selected from it, and published in his " Eulo-
gium on Franklin" the following specimens :
" Is sound an entity or body ?
" How may the phenomena of vapors be explained ?
" Is self-interest the rudder that steers mankind, the universal mon-
arch to whom all are tributaries ?
" Which is the best form of government, and what was that form
which first prevailed among mankind ?
" Can any one particular form of government suit all mankind ?
" What is the reason that the tides rise higher in the Bay of Fundy
than the Bay of Delaware ?
" Is the emission of paper money safe ?
" What is the reason that men of the greatest knowledge are not the
most happy?
" How may the possessions of the Lakes be improved to our ad-
vantage ?
" Why are tumultuous, uneasy sensations united with our desires ?
"Whether it ought to be the aim of philosophy to eradicate the
passions ?
" How may smoky chimneys be best cured ?
" Why does the flame of a candle tend upwards in a spire ?
" Which is least criminal — a bad action joined with a good intention,
or a good action with a bad intention ?
" Is it consistent with the principles of liberty in a free government
to punish a man as a libeller when he speaks the truth ?" — Ed.
igo AUTOBIOGRAPHr OF
jobbs sent in by our other friends now and then put
us back. But so determin'd I was to continue doing
a sheet a day of the folio, that one night, when,
having impos'd my forms, I thought my day's work
over, one of them by accident was broken, and two
pages reduced to pi, I immediately distributed and
compos'd it over again before I went to bed ; and
this industry, visible to our neighbors, began to give
us character and credit; particularly, I was told,
that mention being made of the new printing-office
at the merchants' Every-night club, the general
opinion was that it must fail, there being already
two printers in the place, Keimer and Bradford ; but
Dr. Baird (whom you and I saw many years after
at his native place, St. Andrew's in Scotland) gave
a contrary opinion : ' ' For the industry of that
Franklin," says he, " is superior to anything I ever
saw of the kind ; I see him still at work when I go
home from club, and he is at work again before
his neighbors are out of bed." This struck the rest,
and we soon after had offers from one of them to
supply us with stationery ; but as yet we did not
chuse to engage in shop business.
I mention this industry the more particularly and
the more freely, tho' it seems to be talking in my
own praise, that those of my posterity, who shall
read it, may know the use of that virtue, when they
see its effects in my favour throughout this relation.
George Webb, who had found a female friend
that lent him wherewith to purchase his time of
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. IQI
Keimer, now came to offer himself as a journeyman
to us. We could not then imploy him ; but I fool-
ishly let him know as a secret that I soon intended
to begin a newspaper, and might then have work
for him. My hopes of success, as I told him, were
founded on this, that the then only newspaper,
printed by Bradford, was a paltry thing, wretchedly
manag'd, no way entertaining, and yet was profit-
able to him ; I therefore thought a good paper would
scarcely fail of good encouragement. I requested
Webb not to mention it ; but he told it to Keimer,
who immediately, to be beforehand with me, pub-
lished proposals for printing one himself, on which
Webb was to be employ'd. I resented this ; and,
to counteract them, as I could not yet begin our
paper, I wrote several pieces of entertainment for
Bradford's paper, under the title of the Busy Body,
which Breintnal continu'd some months. By this
means the attention of the publick was fixed on that
paper, and Keimer's proposals, which we burlesqu'd
and ridicul'd, were disregarded. He began his
paper, however, and, after carrying it on three
quarters of a year, with at most only ninety sub
scribers, he offer'd it to me for a trifle ; and I, hav-
ing been ready some time to go on with it, took it ir
hand directly ; and it prov'd in a few years ex
tremely profitable to me.*
* This paper was called The Universal Instructor in all Arts and
Sciences atid Pennsylvania Gazette. Keimer printed his last number, tb«
39th, on the 25th day of September, 1729.
192 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
I perceive that I am apt to speak in the singular
number, though our partnership still continu'd ; the
reason may be that, in fact, the whole management
Its leading articles were an installment of Chambers' Dictionary, Art.
Air, a message from Gov. Bmnet of the Province of Massachusetts Bay,
the reply of the Assembly, and an obituary of the governor, who had
just died. The following announcement filled the rest of the sheet :
" Philadelphia, September 25
" It not quadrating with the circumstances of the printer hereof, S. K.,
to publish this Gazette any longer, he gives notice that this paper con-
cludes his third quarter ; and is the last that will be printed by him.
Yet, that his generous subscribers may not be baulked or disappointed,
he has agreed with B. Franklin and H. Meredith, at the new printing
ofiice, to continue it to the end of the year, having transferred the prop-
erty wholly to them [D. Harry declining it],* and probably if further
encouragement appears it will be continued longer. The said S. K.
designs to leave this province early in the spring or sooner, if possibly
he can justly accommodate his affairs with every one he stands in-
debted to."
The next number, 40, appeared on the 2d of October, in new type, with
the following announcement, the title " Universal Instructor in all Arts
and Sciences" having been dropped, and with it the feature of the paper
which it designated :
" The Pennsylvania Gazette being now to be carryed on by other hands,
the reader may expect some account of the method we design to pro-
ceed in.
" Upon a view of Chambers' great dictionaries, from whence were taken
the materials of The Universal Instructor in all Arts and Sciences, which
usually made the first part of this paper, we find that besides their con-
taining many things abstruse or insignificant to us, it will probably be
fifty years before the whole can be gone through in this manner of pub-
lication. There are likewise in those books continual references from
things under one letter of the alphabet to those under another, which
relate to the same subject and are necessary to explain and complete it ;
* In the previous number Keimer announced that he had made over his business to
David Harry, with the design to leave this province as soon as he could get in his debts
and justly balance with every one of his few creditois, etc., etc.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 1 93
of the business lay upon me. Meredith was no
compositor, a poor pressman, and seldom sober.
these taken in their turn may be ten years distant ; and since it is likely
that they who desire to acquaint themselves with any particular art or
science would gladly have the whole before them in a much less time,
we believe our readers will not think such a method of communicating
knowledge to be a proper one.
" However, though we do not intend to continue the publication of
those dictionaries in a regular alphabetical method, as has hitherto
been done ; yet, as several things exhibited from them in the course of
these papers, have been entertaining to such of the curious who never
had and cannot have the advantage of good libraries ; and as there are
many things still behind, which being in this manner made generally
known, may perhaps become of considerable use by giving such hints
to the excellent natural genius's of our country, as may contribute either
to the improvement of our present manufactures or towards the inven-
tion of new ones ; we propose from time to time to communicate such
particular parts as appear to be of the most general consequence.
"As to the Religious Courtship, part of which has been retal'd to the
public in these papers, the reader may be informed, that the whole book
will probably in a little time be printed and bound by itself; and those
who approve of it will doubtless be better pleased to have it entire, than
in this broken, interrupted manner.
" There are many who have long desired to see a good newspaper in
Pennsylvania ; and we hope those gentlemen who are able, will contri-
bute towards the making this such. We ask assistance because we are
fully sensible, that to publish a good newspaper is not so easy an under-
taking as many people imagine it to be. The author of a Gazette (in the
opinion of the learned) ought to be qualified with an extensive acquaint-
ance with languages, a great easiness and command of writing, and
relating things clearly and intelligibly and in few words ; he should be
able to speak of war both by land and sea ; be well acquainted with
geography, with the history of the time, with the secret interests of
princes and States, the secrets of courts, and the manners and customs
of all nations. Men thus accomplished are very rare in this remote part
of the world ; and it would be well if the writer of these papers could
make up among his friends what is wanting in himself.
" Upon the whole, we may assure the publick, that, as far as the en-
couragement we meet with will enable us, no care and pains shall be
17 1
194 AUTOBIOGRAPHT OF
My friends lamented my connection with him, but I
was to make the best of it.
Our first papers made a quite different appearance
from any before in the province ; a better type, and
better printed ; but some spirited remarks of my
writing,* on the dispute then going on between
omitted that may make the Pennsylvania Gazette z& agreeable aiid useful
an entertainment as the nature of the thing will allow."
After the publication of two numbers the Gazette was published twice
a week, beginning with No. 43. — Ed.
* The following are the spirited remarks here referred to :
" His excellency, governor Burnet, died unexpectedly about two days
after the date of this reply to his last message ; and it was thought the
dispute would have ended with him, or at least have lain dormant till
the arrival of a new governor from England, who possibly might or
might not be inclined to enter too vigorously into the measures of his
predecessor. But our last advices by the post acquaint us that his
honor the lieutenant-governor (on whom the government immediately
devolves upon the death or absence of the commander-in-chief) has
vigorously renewed the struggle on his own account, of which the par-
ticulars will be seen in our next. Perhaps some of our readers may
not fully understand the original ground of this warm contest between
the governor and assembly. It seems that people have for these hun-
dred years past, enjoyed the privilege of revv'arding the governor for the
time being, according to their sense of his merit and services ; and few
or none of their governors have complained, or had cause to complain,
of a scanty allowance. When the late governor Burnet brought with
him instructions to demand a settled salary of 1000 pounds sterling per
annum, on him and all his successors, and the Assembly were required
to fix it immediately ; he insisted on it strenuously to the last, and they
as constantly refused it. It appears by their votes and proceedings that
they thought it an imposition, contrary to their own charter, and to
Magna Charta ; and they judged that there should be a mutual depend-
ence between the governor and governed ; and that to make the gov-
ernor independent would be dangerous and destructive to their liber-
ties, and the ready way to establish tyranny. They thought likewise,
that the province was not the less dependent on the crown of Great
Britain, by the governor's depending immediately on them, and his owp
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 1 95
Governor Burnet and the Massachusetts Assembly,
struck the principal people, occasioned the paper
and the manager of it to be much talk'd of, and
in a few weeks brought them all to be our sub-
scribers.
Their example was follow'd by many, and our
number went on growing continually. This was
one of the first good effects of my having learnt a
little to scribble ; another was, that the leading men,
seeing a newspaper now in the hands of one who
good conduct, for an ample support ; because all acts and laws, which
he might be induced to pass, must nevertheless be constantly sent home
for approbation, in order to continue in force. Many other reasons were
given, and arguments used in the course of the controversy, needless to
particularize here, because all the material papers relating to it have
been already given in our public news.
" Much deserved praise has the deceased governor received for his
steady integrity in adhering to his instructions, notwithstanding the
great difficulty and opposition he met with, and the strong temptations
offered from time to time to induce him to give up the point. And yet,
perhaps, something is due to the Assembly (as the love and zeal of that
country for the present establishment is too well known to suffer any
suspicion of want of loyalty), who continue thus resolutely to abide by
what they think their right, and that of the people they represent ;
manage all the arts and menaces of a governor, famed for his cunning
and politics, backed with instructions from home, and powerfully aided
by the great advantage such an officer always has of engaging the prin-
cipal men of a place in his party, by conferring, when he pleases, so
many posts of profit and honor. Their happy mother country will per-
haps observe, with pleasure, that though her gallant cocks and match-
less dogs abate their natural fire and intrepidity when transported to a
foreign clime (as this nation is), yet her sons in the remotest part of the
earth, and even to the third and fourth descent, still retain that ardent
spirit of liberty, and that undaunted courage, which has in every age so
gloriously distinguished Britons and Englishmen from the rest of
mankind."— W. T. F.
196 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
could also handle a pen, thought it convenient to
oblige and encourage me. Bradford still printed
the votes, and laws, and other publick business.
He had printed an address of the House to the
governor, in a coarse, blundering manner ; we re-
printed it elegantly and correctly, and sent one to
every member. They were sensible of the difler-
ence : it strengthened the hands of our friends in
the House, and they voted us their printers for the
year ensuing.
Among my friends in the House I must not forget
Mr. Hamilton, before mentioned, who was then
returned from England, and had a seat in it. He
interested himself for me strongly in that instance,
as he did in many others afterward, continuing his
patronage till his death.*
Mr. Vernon, about this time, put me in mind of
the debt I ow'd him, but did not press me. I wrote
him an ingenuous letter of acknowledgment, crav'd
his forbearance a little longer, which he allow'd me,
and as soon as I was able, I paid the principal with
interest, and many thanks ; so that erratum was in
some degree corrected.
But now another difficulty came upon me which
I had never the least reason to expect. Mr. Mere-
dith's father, who was to have paid for our printing-
house, according to the expectations given me, was
able to advance only one hundred pounds currency,
* I got his son once ;^5oo [marg. note].
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 1 97
which had been paid ; and a hundred more was
due to the merchant, who grew impatient, and su'd
us all. We gave bail, but saw that, if the money
could not be rais'd in time, the suit must soon come
to a judgment and execution, and our hopeful pros-
pects must, with us, be ruined, as the press and
letters must be sold for payment, perhaps at half
price.
In thirs distress two true friends, whose kindness I
have never forgotten, nor ever shall forget while I
can remember any thing, came to me separately,
unknown to each other, and, without any applica-
tion from me, offering each of them to advance me
all the money that should be necessary to enable
me to take the whole business vipon myself, if that
should be practicable ; but they did not like my
continuing the partnership with Meredith, who, as
they said, was often seen drunk in the streets, and
playing at low games in alehouses, much to our
discredit. These two friends were William Cole-
man and Robert Grace. I told them I could not
propose a separation while any prospect remain'd
of the Merediths' fulfilling their part of our agree-
ment, because I thought myself under great obliga
tions to them for what they had done, and would do
if they could ; but, if they finally fail'd in their per-
formance, and our partnership must be dissolv'd, I
should then think myself at liberty to accept the
assistance of my friends.
Thus the matter rested for some time, when I said
17*
198 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
to my partner, " Perhaps your father is dissatisfied
at the part you have undertaken in this affair of
ours, and is unwilHng to advance for you and me
what he would for you alone. If that is the case,
tell me, and I will resign the whole to you, and go
about my business." "No," said he, "my father
has really been disappointed, and is really unable ;
and I am unwillincj to distress him farther. I sec
this is a business I am not fit for. I was bred a
farmer, and it was a folly in me to come to town, and
put myself, at thirty years of age, an apprentice to
learn a new trade. Many of our Welsh people are
going to settle in North Carolina, where land is
cheap. I am inclin'd to go with them, and follow
my old employment. You may find friends to
assist you. If you will take the debts of the com-
pany upon you ; return to my father the hundred
pound he has advanced ; pay my little personal debts,
and give me thirty pounds and a new saddle, I will
relinquish the partnership, and leave the whole in
your hands." I agreed to this proposal ; it was
drawn up in writing, sign'd, and seal'd immediately.
I gave him what he demanded, and he went soon
after to Carolina, from whence he sent me next
year two long letters, containing the best account
that had been given of that country, the climate, the
soil, husbandry, etc., for in those matters he was
very judicious. I printed them in the papers, and
they gave great satisfaction to the publick.
As soon as he was gone, I recurrd to my two
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 1 99
friends ; and because I would not give an unkind
preference to either, I took half of what each had
offered and I wanted of one, and half of the other ;
paid off the company's debts, and went on with the
business in my own name, advertising that the part-
nership was dissolved. I think this was in or about
the year 1729.*
About this time there was a cry among the people
for more paper money, only fifteen thousand pounds
being extant in the province, and that soon to be
sunk. The wealthy inhabitants oppos'd any addi-
tion, being against all paper currency, from an ap-
prehension that it would depreciate, as it had done in
New England, to the prejudice of all creditors. We
had discuss'd 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 build-
ing : whereas I remembered well, that when I first
walk'd about the streets of Philadelphia, eating my
roll, I saw most of the houses in Walnut-street, be-
tween Second and Front streets, with bills on their
doors, " To be let ;" 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.
* By the agreement of dissolution, still extant, it appears that it took
place July 14th, 1730.-6'.
200 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
Our debates possess'd me so fully of the subject,
that T wrote and printed an anonymous pamphlet on
it, entitled " The Nature atid Necessity of a Paper
Currency.'" It was well receiv'd by the common
people in general ; but the rich men dislik'd it, for
it increas'd and strengthen'd the clamor for more
money, and they happening to have no writers
among them that were able to answer it, their oppo-
sition slacken'd, and the point was carried by a
majority in the House. My friends there, who con-
ceiv'd I had been of some service, thought fit to re-
ward me by employing me in printing the money ;
a very profitable jobb and a great help to me. This
was another advantage gain'd by my being able to
write.
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' I now
think there are limits beyond which the quantity
may be hurtful.
I soon after obtain'd, thro' 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
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 20i
me, also, the printing of the laws and votes of that
government, which continu' d in my hands as long
as I follow'd the business.
I now open'd a little stationer's shop. I had in it
blanks of all sorts, the correctest that ever appear'd
among us, being assisted in that by my friend
Breintnal. I had also paper, parchment, chapmen's
books, etc. One Whitemash, a compositor I had
known in London, an excellent workman, now came
to me, and work'd with me constantly and diligently ;
and I took an apprentice, the son of Aquila Rose.
I began now gradually to pay off the debt I was
under for the printing-house. In order to secure my
credit and character as a tradesman, I took care not
only to be in reality industrious and frugal, but to
avoid 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, in-
deed, sometimes debauch'd me from my work, but
that was seldom, snug, and gave no scandal ; and,
to show that I was not above my business, I some-
times brought home the paper I purchas'd at the
stores thro' the streets on a wheelbarrow. Thus
being esteem'd an industrious, thriving young man,
and paying duly for what I bought, the merchants
who imported stationery solicited my custom ; others
proposed supplying me v,'ith books, and I went on
swimmingly. In the mean time, Keimer's credit
and business dechning daily, he was at last forc'd
to sell his printing-house to satisfy his creditors. He
202 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
went lo Barbadoes, and there lived some years in
very poor circumstances.
His apprentice, David Harry, whom I had in-
structed while I work'd with him, set up in his
place at Philadelphia, having bought his materials.
1 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'd a partnership
to him, which he, fortunately for me, rejected with
scorn. He was very proud, dress'd like a gentle-
man, liv'd expensively, took much diversion and
pleasure abroad, ran in debt, and neglected his busi-
ness ; upon which, all business left him; and, find-
ing nothing to do, he follow'd Keimer to Barbadoes,
taking the printing-house with him. There this
apprentice employ'd his former master as a journey-
man ; they quarrel'd often ; Harry went continually
behindhand, and at length was forc'd to sell his
types and return to his country work in Pensilvania.
The person that bought them employ'd Keimer to
use them, but in a few years he died.
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 post-ofiice,
it was imagined he had better opportunities of ob-
taining news ; his paper was thought a better distri-
buter of advertisements than mine, and therefore
had many more, which was a profitable thing to
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 203
him, and a disadvantage to me; for, tho' I did
indeed receive and send papers by the post, yet tiie
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'd some resentment on my part ; and 1
thought so meanly of him for it, that, when I
afterward came into his situation, I took care never
to imitate it.
I had hitherto continu'd to board with Godfrey,
who lived in part of my house with his wife and
children, and had one side of the shop for his
glazier's business, tho' he worked little, being
always absorbed in his mathematics. Mrs. Godfrey
projected a match for me with a relation's daughter,
took opportunities of bringing us often together, till
a serious courtship on my part ensu'd, the girl being
in herself very deserving. The old folks encour-
ag'd me by continual invitations to supper, and by
leaving us together, till at length it was time to
explain. Mrs. Godfrey manag'd our little treaty.
1 let her know that I expected as much money with
their daughter as would pay off my remaining debt
for the printing-house, which I believe was not then
above a hundred pounds. She brought me word
they had no such sum to spare ; I said they might
mortgage their house in the loan-office. The an-
swer to this, after some days, was, that they did nol
approve the match ; that, on inquiry of Bradford,
they had been inform'd the printing business was
204 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
not a profitable one ; the types would soon be worn
out, and more wanted; that S. Keimer and D.
Harry had failed one after the other, and I should
probably soon follow them ; and, therefore, I was
forbidden the house, and the daughter shut up.
Whether this was a real chancre of sentiment or
only artifice, on a supposition of our being too far
engaged in affection to retract, and therefore that
we should steal a marriage, which would leave them
at liberty to give or withhold what they pleas'd, I
know not; but I suspected the latter, resented it,
and went no more. Mrs. Godfrey brought me
afterward some more favorable accounts of their
disposition, and would have drawn me on again;
out I declared absolutely my resolution to have
nothing more to do with that family. This was
resented by the Godfreys ; we differ'd, and they
removed, leaving me the whole house, and I re-
solved to take no more inmates.
But this affair having turned my thoughts to mar-
riage, I look'd round me and made overtures of
acquaintance in other places ; but soon found that,
the business of a printer being generally thought a
poor one, I was not to expect money with a wife,
unless with such a one as I should not otherwise
think agreeable. In the mean time, that hard-to-be-
governed passion of youth hurried me frequently
into intrigues with low women that fell in my way,
which were attended with some expense and great
inconvenience, besides a continual risque to my
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 20$
health by a distemper which of all things I dreaded,
though by great good luck I escaped it. A friendly
correspondence as neighbors and old acquaintances
had continued between me and Mrs. Read's family,
who all had a regard for me from the time of my
first lodefiniT in their house. I was often invited there
and consulted in their affairs, wherein I sometimes
was of service. I piti'd poor Miss Read's unfortunate
situation, who was generally dejected, seldom cheer-
ful, and avoided company. I considered my giddi-
ness and inconstancy when in London as in a great
degree the cause of her unhappiness, tho'the mother
was good enough to think the fault more her own than
mine, as she had prevented our marrying before I
went thither, and persuaded the other match in my
absence. Our mutual affection was revived, but
there were now great objections to our union. The
match was indeed looked upon as invalid, a preced-
ing wife being said to be living in England ; but
this could not easily be prov'd, because of the dis-
tance ; and, tho' there was a report of his death, it
was not certain. Then, tho' it should be true, he
had left many debts, which his successor might be
call'd upon to pay. We ventured, however, over
all these difBculties, and I took her to wife, Sep-
tember 1st, 1730. None of the inconveniences
happened that we had apprehended ; she proved a
good and faithful helpmate, assisted me much by
attending the shop ; we throve together, and have
ever mutually endeavor'd to make each other
18
2o6 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
happ3'. Thus I corrected that great erratum as
well as I could.*
* Mrs. Franklin survived her marriage over forty years. She died
December 19, 1774. She seems to have been a sensible woman and
a devoted wife. Franklin's correspondence abounds with evidence
that their union was a happy one, and in a letter to Miss Catharine Ray,
afterwards wife of Gov. Green of Rhode Island, who sent him some
cheese, he alludes to his wife in a way to reveal the ripened affection
which subsisted between them. Sparks, vol. vii. p. 92 :
" Mrs. Franklin was very proud that a young lady should have so
much regard for her old husband as to send him such a present We
talk of you every time it comes to table. She is sure you are a sensible
girl, and a notable housewife, and talks of bequeathing me to you as a
legacy ; but I ought to wish you a better, and hope she will live these
hundred years ; for we are grown old together, and if she has any faults,
I am so used to them that I don't perceive them. As the song says :
" ' Some feults we have all, and so has my Joan,
But then they're exceedingly small ;
And, now I'm grown used to them, so like my own,
I scarcely can see them at all.
My dear friends,
I scarcely can see them at all.'
" Indeed I begin to think she has none, as I think of you. And since
•he is willing I should love you as much as you are willing to be loved
by me, let us join in wishing the old lady a long life and a happy."
The author here quotes a stanza from one of his own " Songs," wrlttctn
for the Junto. It has been printed in Professor McVickar's Lift? oi Di.
Samuel Bard :
" My Plain Country yoan ; A Song.
" Of their Chloes and Phyllises poets may prate,
I sing my plain country Joan,
These twelve years my wife, still the joy of my life.
Blest day tliat I made her my own.
" Not a word of her face, of her shape, or her air.
Or of flames or of darts you shall hear ;
1 beauty admire, but virtue I prize,
Xfxat fades not in seventy yeai'.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 20J
About this time, our club meeting, not at a tavern,
but in a little room of Mr. Grace's, set apart for that
purpose, a proposition was made by me, that, since
our books were often referr'd to in our disquisitions
upon the queries, it might be convenient to us to
have them altogether where we met, that upon oc-
casion they might be consulted ; and by thus club-
bing our books to a common library, we should,
while we lik'd to keep them together, have each of
us the advantage of using the books of all the other
members, which would be nearly as beneficial as if
"Am I loaded with care, she takes off a large share ;
That the burden ne'er makes me to reel ;
Does good fortune arrive, the joy of my wife
Quite doubles the pleasure I feel.
" She defends my good name, even when I'm to blame.
Firm friend as to man e'er was given ;
Her compassionate breast feels for all the distressed.
Which draws down more blessings from heaven.
" In health a companion delightful and dear,
Still easy, engaging, and free ;
In sickness no less than the carefulest nurse,
As tender as tender can be.
" In peace and good order my household she guides,
Right careful to save what I gain ;
Yet cheerfully spends, and smiles on the friends
I've the pleasure to entertain.
" Some faults have we all, and so has my Joan,
But then they're exceedingly small ;
And, now I'm grown used to them, so like ray own,
I scarcely can see them at alL
" Were the finest young princess, with millions In purse.
To be had in exchange for my Joan,
I could not get better wife, might get a worse,
So I'll stick to my dearest old Joan " — Ed.
2o8 AUTOBIOGRAPHT OF
each owned the whole. It was lik'd and agreerl
to, and we fill'd one end of the room with such
books as we could best spare. The number was
not so great as we expected ; and tho' they had
been of great use, yet some inconveniences occur-
ring for want of due care of them, the collection,
after about a year, was separated, and each took his
books home again.
And now I set on foot my first project of a public
nature, that for a subscription library. I drew up
the proposals, got them put into form by our great
scrivener, Brockden, and, by the help of my friends
in the Junto, procured fifty subscribers of forty shil-
lings each to begin with, and ten shillings a year for
fifty years, the term our company was to continue.
We afterwards obtain'd a charter, the company
being increased to one hundred : this w-as 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 defence of their privileges.
Mem". Thus far was written with the intention
express'd in the beginning and therefore contains
several little family anecdotes of no importance to
BEJSIJAMIN FRANKLIN. 209
Others. What follows was written many years after
in compliance with the advice contain'd in these
letters, and accordingly intended for the public.
The affairs of the Revolution occasion'd the inter-
ruption.
Letter from Mr. Abel yames, -with Notes of my
Life {received in Paris).
*« A /r Y Dear and Honored Friend: I have
J^V X often been desirous of writing to thee, but
could not be reconciled to the thought, that the
letter might fall into the hands of the British, lest
some printer or bus3'^-body should publish some part
of the contents, and give our friend pain, and my-
self censure.
" Some time since there fell into my hands, to
my great joy, about twenty-three sheets in thy own
handwriting, containing an account of the pa-
rentage and life of thyself, directed to thy son, end-
ing in the year 1730, with which there were notes,
likewise in thy writing ; a copy of which I inclose,
in hopes it may be a means, if thou continued it
210
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 2 1 1
up to a later period, that the first and latter part
may be put together ; and if it is not yet continued,
I hope thee will not delay it. Life is uncertain,
as the preacher tells us ; and what will the world
say if kind, humane, and benevolent Ben. Franklin
should leave his friends and the world deprived of
so pleasing and profitable a work ; a work which
would be useful and entertaining not only to a few,
but to millions? The influence writings under that
class have on the minds of youth is very great, and
has nowhere appeared to me so plain, as in our
public friend's journals. It almost insensibly leads
the youth into the resolution of endeavoring to be-
come as good and eminent as the journalist. Should
thine, for instance, when published (and I think it
could not fail of it) , lead the youth to equal the in-
dustry and temperance of thy early youth, what a
blessing with that class would such a work be ! I
know of no character living, nor many of them put
together, who has so much in his power as thyself
to promote a greater spirit of industry and early
attention to business, frugality, and temperance with
the American youth. Not that I think the work
would have no other merit and use in the world, far
from it ; but the first is of such vast importance that
I know nothing that can equal it."
The foregoing letter and the minutes accompany-
ing it being shown to a friend, I received from him
the following :
212 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
Letter from Mr. Benjamin Vaughan.
" Paris, January 31, 1783.
"My Dearest Sir : When I had read over your
sheets of minutes of the principal incidents of your
life, recovered for you by your Quaker acquaintance,
I told you I would send you a letter expressing my
reasons why I thought it would be useful 10 com-
plete and publish it as he desired. Various con-
cerns have for some time past prevented this letter
being written, and I do not know whether it was
worth any expectation : happening to be at leisure,
however, at present, I shall by writing, at least, in-
terest and instruct myself; but as the terms I am
inclined to use may tend to offend a person of your
manners, I shall only tell you how I would address
any other person, who was as good and as great as
yourself, but less diffident. I would say to him. Sir,
I solicit the history of your life from the following
motives : Your history is so remarkable, that if you
do not give it, somebody else will certainly give it ;
and perhaps so as nearly to do as much harm, as
your own management of the thing might do good.
It will moreover present a table of the internal
circumstances of your countr}^ which will very
much tend to invite to it settlers of virtuous and
manly minds. And considering the eagerness with
v^hich such information is sought by them, and the
extent of your reputation, I do not know of a more
efficacious advertisement than your biography w ould
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 213
give. All that has happened to you is also con-
nected with the detail of the manners and situation
of a rising people ; and in this respect I do not
think that the writings of Caesar and Tacitus can be
more interesting to a true judge of human nature
and society. But these, sir, are small reasons, in
my opinion, compared with the chance which your
life will give for the forming of future great men ;
and in conjunction with your Art of Virtue (which
you design to publish) of improving the features of
private character, and consequently of aiding all
happiness, both public and domestic. The two
works I allude to, sir, will in particular give a noble
rule and example of self-education. School and
other education constantly proceed upon false prin-
ciples, and show a clumsy apparatus pointed at a
false mark ; but your apparatus is simple, and the
mark a true one ; and while parents and young
persons are left destitute of other just means of
estimating and becoming prepared for a reasonable
course in life, your discovery that the thing is in
many a man's private power, will be invaluable !
Influence upon the private character, late in life,
is not only an influence late in life, but a weak in-
fluence. It is in youth that we plant our chief habits
and prejudices ; it is in youth that we take our party
as to profession, pursuits and matrimony. In youth,
therefore, the turn is given ; in youth the education
even of the next generation is given ; in youth the
private and public character is determined ; and the
214 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
term of life extending but from youth to age, life
ought to begin well from youth, and more especially
before we take our party as to our principal objects.
But your biography will not merely teach self-
education, but the education of a wise man ; and
the wisest man will receive lights and improve his
progress, by seeing detailed the conduct of another
wise man. And why are weaker men to be de-
prived of such helps, when we see our race has
been blundering on in the dark, almost without a
guide in this particular, from the farthest trace of
time? Show then, sir, how much is to be done,
both to sons and fathers ; and invite all wise men to
become like yourself, and other men to become wise.
When we see how cruel statesmen and warriors can
be to the human race, and how absurd distinguished
men can be to their acquaintance, it will be in-
structive to observe the instances multiply of pacific,
acquiescing manners ; and to find how compatible
it is to be great and domestic, enviable and yet good-
humored.
"The little private incidents which you will also
have to relate, will have considerable use, as we
want, above all things, rules of prudence in ordinary
affairs ; and it will be curious to see how you have
acted in these. It will be so far a sort of key to
life, and explain many things that all men ought to
have once explained to them, to give them a chance
of becoming wise by foresight. The nearest thing
to having experience of one's own, is to have other
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 21 5
people's affairs brought before us in a shape that is
interesting ; this is sure to happen from your pen ;
our affairs and management will have an air of sim-
plicity or importance that will not fail to strike ; and
I am convinced you have conducted them with as
much originality as if you had been conducting dis-
cussions in politics or philosophy ; and what more
worthy of experiments and system (its importance
and its errors considered) than human life?
" Some men have been virtuous blindly, others
have speculated fantastically, and others have been
shrewd to bad purposes ; but you, sir, I am sure,
will give under your hand, nothing but what is at
the same moment, wise, practical and good. Your
account of yourself (for I suppose the parallel I am
drawing for Dr. Franklin, will hold not only in
point of character, but of private history) will show
that you are ashamed of no origin ; a thing the
more important, as you prove how little necessary
all origin is to happiness, virtue, or greatness. As
no end likewise happens without a means, so we
shall find, sir, that even you yourself framed a plan
by which you became considerable ; but at the same
time we may see that though the event is flattering,
the means are as simple as wisdom could make
them ; that is, depending upon nature, virtue, thought
and habit. Another thing demonstrated will be
the propriety of every man's waiting for his time for
appearing upon the stage of the world. Our sen-
sations being very mucn fixed to the moment, we
2l6 AUTOBIOGRAPIir OF
are apt to forget that more moments are to follow
the first, and consequently that man should arrange
his conduct so as to suit the whole of a life. Your
attribution appears to have been applied to your life,
and the passing moments of it have been enlivened
with content and enjoyment, instead of being tor-
mented with foolish impatience or regrets. Such a
conduct is easy for those who make virtue and them-
selves in countenance by examples of other truly
great men, of whom patience is so often the charac-
teristic. Your Quaker correspondent, sir (for here
again I will suppose the subject of my letter resem-
bling Dr. Franklin), praised your frugality, dili-
gence and temperance, which he considered as a
pattern for all youth ; but it is singular that he
should have forgotten your modesty and your dis-
interestedness, without which you never could have
waited for your advancement, or found your situa-
tion in the mean time comfortable ; which is a strong
lesson to show the poverty of glory and the importance
of regulating our minds. If this correspondent had
known the nature of your reputation as well as I
do, he would have said, Your former writings and
measures would secure attention to your Biography,
and Art of Virtue ; and your Biography and Art of
Virtue, in return, would secure attention to them.
This is an advantage attendant upon a various cha-
racter, and which brings all that belongs to it into
greater play ; and it is the more useful, as perhaps
more persons are at a loss for the means of improv-
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 21/
ing theii minds and characters, than they are for
the time or the inclination to do it. But there is
one concluding reflection, sir, that will shew the
use of your life as a mere piece of biography. This
style of writing seems a little gone out of vogue,
and yet it is a very useful one ; and your specimen
of it may be particularly serviceable, as it will make
a subject of comparison with the lives of various public
cut-throats and intriguers, and with absurd monastic
self-tormentors or vain literary triflers. If it encour-
ages more writings of the same kind with your own,
and induces more men to spend lives fit to be written,
it will be worth all Plutarch's Lives put together.
But being tired of figuring to myself a character
of which every feature suits only one man in the
world, without giving him the praise of it, I shall
end my letter, my dear Dr. Franklin, with a per-
sonal application to your proper self. I am earn-
estly desirous, then, my dear sir, that you should
let the world into the traits of your genuine cha-
racter, as civil broils may otherwise tend to disguise
or traduce it. Considering your great age, the
caution of your character, and your peculiar style
of thinking, it is not likely that any one besides
yourself can be sufficiently master of the facts of
your life, or the intentions of your mind. Besides
all this, the immense revolution of the present
period, will necessarily turn our attention towards
the author of it, and when virtuous principles have
been pretended in it, it will be highly important to
19 K
2l8 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
shew that such have really influenced ; and, as your
own character will be the principal one to receive a
scrutiny, it is proper (even for its effects upon your
vast and rising country, as well as upon England
and upon Europe) that it should stand respectable
and eternal. For the furtherance of human happi-
ness, I have always maintained that it is necessary
to prove that man is not even at present a vicious
and detestable animal ; and still more to prove that
good management may greatly amend him ; and it
is for much the same reason, that I am anxious to
see the opinion established, that there are fair cha-
racters existing among the individuals of the race ;
for the moment that all men, without exception,
shall be conceived abandoned, good people will
cease efforts deemed to be hopeless, and perhaps
think of taking their share in the scramble of life,
or at least of making it comfortable principally for
themselves. Take then, my dear sir, this work
most speedily into hand : shew yourself good as
you are good ; temperate as you are temperate ; and
above all things, prove yourself as one, who from
your infancy have loved justice, liberty and concord,
in a way that has made it natural and consistent for
you to have acted, as we have seen you act in the
last seventeen years of your life. Let Englishmen
be made not only to respect, but even to love you.
When they think well of individuals in your native
country, they will go nearer to thinking well of
your country ; and when your countrymen see them-
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 219
selves well thought of by Englishmen, they will go
nearer to thinking well of England. Extend your
views even further ; do not stop at those who speak
the English tongue, but after having settled so many
points in nature and politics, think of bettering the
whole race of men. As I have not read any part
of the life in question, but know only the character
that lived it, I write somewhat at hazard. I am
sure, however, that the life and the treatise I allude
to (on the Art of Virtue) will necessarily fulfil the
chief of my expectations ; and still more so if you
take up the measure of suiting these performances to
the several views above stated. Should they even
prove unsuccessful in all that a sanguine admirer of
yours hopes from them, you will at least have framed
pieces to interest the human mind ; and whoever
gives a feeling of pleasure that is innocent to man,
has added so much to the fair side of a life otherwise
too much darkened by anxiety and too much injured
by pain. In the hope, therefore, that you will
listen to the prayer addressed to you in this letter, I
beg to subscribe myself, my dearest sir, etc., etc.,
"Signed, Benj. Vaughan."
Continuation of the Account of 7ny Life, begun at
Passy, near Paris, 1784'
It is some time since I receiv'd the above letters,
but I have been too busy till now to think of com-
220 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
plyiriT with the request they contain. It might, too,
be much better done if I were at home among my
papers, which would aid my memory, and help to
ascertain dates ; but my return being unceitain, and
having just now a little leisuie, I will endeavor to
recollect and write wliaf; I can ; if I live to get home,
it may there be corrected and improv'd.
Not having any copy here of what is already writ-
ten, I know not whether an account is given of the
means I used to establish the Philadelphia pubhc
library, which, from a small beginning, is now be-
come 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.
At the time I establish'd myself in Pennsylvania,
there was not a good bookseller's shop in any of the
colonies to the southward of Boston. In New York
and Philad'a the printers were indeed stationers ;
they sold only paper, etc., almanacs, ballads, and a
few common school-books. Those who lov'd read-
ing were obllg'd to send for their books from Eng-
land ; 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'd 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'd
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 221
to read at home. This was accordingly done, and
for some time contented us.
Finding the advantage of this little collection, I
propos'd to render the benefit from books more com-
mon, 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 arti-
cles of agreement to be subscribed, by which each
subscriber engag'd to pay a certain sum down for
the first purchase of books, and an annual contribu-
tion for increasino; 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 trades-
men, willing to pay down for this purpose forty
shillings each, and ten shillings per annum. On
this litde fund we began. The books were im-
ported ; the library was opened one day in the
week for lending to the subscribers, on their pro-
missory 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 ; read-
ing 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'd by strangers to be better
instructed and more intelligent than people of the
same rank generally are in other countries.
iy«
222 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
When we were about to sign the above-mentioned
articles, which were to be binding on us, our heirs,
etc., for fifty years, Mr. Brockden, the scrivener,
said to us, "You are young men, but it is scarcely
probable that any of you will live to see the expira-
tion of the term fix'd in the instrument." A num-
ber of us, however, are yet living ; but the instru-
ment was after a few years rendered null by a
charter that incorporated and gave perpetuity to the
company.*
The objections and reluctances I met with in so-
liciting the subscriptions, made me soon feel the im-
propriety of presenting one's self as the proposer of
any useful project, that might be suppos'd to raise
one's reputation in the smallest degree above that of
one's neighbors, when one has need of their assist-
ance to accomplish that project. I therefore put
myself as much as I could out of sight, and stated it
as a scheme of a nuinhc7' of friends, who had re-
quested 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'd it on such occasions ; and, from my fre-
quent successes, can heartily recommend it. The
present little sacrifice of your vanity will afterwards
be amply repaid. If it remains a while uncertain
* This library was founded in 1731, and incorporated in 1742. By the
addition made to it of the library left by Mr. James Logan, and by an-
nual purchases, the Philadelphia Library now numbers between 70,00c
and bc,occ volumes. — Ed.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN 223
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.*
This library afforded me the means of improve-
ment by constant study, for which I set apart an
hour or two each day, and thus repair'd in some
degree the loss of the learned education my father
once intended for me. Reading was the only amuse-
ment I allow'd myself. I spent no time in taverns,
games, or frolicks of any kind ; and my industry in
my business continu'd as indefatigable as it was
necessary. I was indebted for my printing-house :
I had a young family coming on to be educated, and
T 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, " Seest
thou a man diligent in his calling, he shall stand
before kings, he shall not stand before mean men,"
I from thence considered industry as a means of
obtaining wealth and distinction, which encourag'd
me, tho' I did not think that I should ever liter-
* This was a wise application of one of the most cynical precepts ol
Ovid in his banishment: " Crede mihi, bene qui latiiit bene vixit." This
line was subsequently adopted as his motto by the illustrious author
of the Cartesian philosophy. — Tristia Elc^a, iv. 25. — Ed.
224 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
ally stand before kings, which, however, has since
happened ; for I have stood before Jive, and even
had the honor of sitting down with one, the King
of Denmark, to dinner.
We have an English proverb that says, '-'-He that
would thrive, must ask his zvife.''' It was lucky for
me that I had one as much dispos'd to industiy and
frugality as myself. She assisted me cheerfully in
my business, folding and stitching pamphlets, tend-
ing shop, purchasing old linen rags for the paper-
makers, 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 famihes, and make a progress,
in spite of principle : being call'd 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'd a silver
spoon and China bowl as well as any of his neigh-
bors. This was the first appearance of plate and
China in our house, which afterward, in a course of
years, as our wealth increas'd, augmented gradu-
ally to several hundred pounds in value.
I had been religiously educated as a Presbyte-
rian ; and tho' some of the dogmas of that persua-
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 22$
sion, such as the etc7'nal 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 ex-
istence of the Deity ; that he made the world, and
govern'd it by his Providence ; that the most accept-
able 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'd the essentials of every
religion ; and, being to be found in all the religions
we had in our country, I respected them all, tho'
with different degrees of respect, as I found them
more or less mix'd with other articles, which, with-
out any tendency to inspire, promote, or confirm
morality, serv'd 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'd 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'd in
people, and new places of worship were continually
wanted, and generally erected by voluntary contri-
bution, my mite for such purpose, whatever might
be the sect, was never refused.
Tho' 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
226 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
annual subscription for the support of the only Pres-
byterian minister or meeting we had in Philadelphia.
He us'd to visit me sometimes as a friend, and ad-
monish me to attend his administrations, and I was
now and then prevail'd 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's
leisure in my course of study ; but his discourses
were chiefly either polemic arguments, or explica-
tions 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'd, their aim seeming to be rather to make us
Presbyterians than good citizens.
At length he took for his text that verse of the
fourth chapter of Philippians, '''•Finally^ brethren^
whatsoever things are true, honest, just, ^ure,
lovely, or of good re-port, if there be any virtue,
or any -praise, think on these things." And I
imagin'd, in a sermon on such a text, we could not
miss of having some morality. But he confin'd
himself to five points only, as meant by the apostle,
viz. : I. Keeping holy the Sabbath day. 2. Being
diligent in reading the holy Scriptures. 3. Attend-
ing duly the publick worship. 4. Partaking of the
Sacrament. 5. Paying a due respect to God's
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
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 22"]
meeting with them from any other, was disgusted,
and attended his preaching no more. I had some
years before compos'd a httle Liturgy, or form of
prayer, for my own private use (viz., in 1728), en-
titled, Articles of Belief and Acts of Religion. I
return'd to the use of this, and went no more to the
pubhc assembhes. My conduct might be blame-
able, but I leave it, without attempting further to
excuse it ; my present purpose being to relate facts,
and not to make apologies for them.*
It was about this time I conceiv'd the bold and
arduous project of arriving at moral perfection. 1
wish'd to live without committing any fault at any
time ; I would conquer all that either natural incli-
nation, 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
* Giving some advice to his daughter Sarah, in a letter written on the
eve of his departure for England in 1764, the Doctor refers more at
length to the subject of church ministration. He writes :
" Go constantly to church, whoever preaches. The act of devotion in
the common prayer-book is your principal business there, and, if pro-
perly attended to, will do more towards amending the heart than ser-
mons generally can do. For they were composed by men of much
greater piety and wisdom than our common composers of sermons can
pretend to be ; and therefore I wish you would never miss the prayer
days ; yet I do not mean you should despise sermons even of the
preachers you dislike, for the discourse is often much better than the
man, as sweet and clear waters come through very dirty earth. I am
the more particular on this head as you seemed to express a little before
I came away, some inclination to leave our church, which I would not
have you do."^Eu.
228 AUTOBIOGRAPIir OF
undertaken a task of more difficulty than I had
imagined. While my care was employ'd in guard-
ing against one fault, I was often surprised by an-
other; habit took the advantage of inattention; in-
clination was sometimes too strong for reason. I
concluded, at length, that the mere speculative con-
viction that it was our interest to be completely vir-
tuous, 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 recdtude
of conduct. For this purpose I therefore contrived
the following method.
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. Tem-
perance, for example, was by some confined to eat-
ing and drinking, while by others it was extended
to mean the moderating every other pleasure, appe-
tite, inclination, or passion, bodily or mental, even
to our avarice and ambition. I propos'd to myself,
for the sake of clearness, to use rather more names,
with fewer ideas annex'd to each, than a few names
with more ideas; and I included under thirteen
names of virtues all that at that dme occurr'd to me
as necessary or desirable, and annexed to each a
short precept, which fully express'd the extent I
gave to its meaning.
These names of virtues, with their precepts were :
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 229
I. Temperance.
Eat not to dullness ; drink not to elevation.
2. Silence.
Speak not but what may benefit others or your-
self: avoid trifling conversation.
3. Order.
Let all your things have their places ; let each
part of your business have its time.
4. Resolution.
Resolve to perform what you ought; perform
without fail what you resolve.
5. Frugality.
Make no expense but to do good to others or
yourself; /. e.^ waste nothing.
6. Industry.
Lose no time ; be always employ'd in somethmg
useful ; cut off all unnecessary actions.
7. Sincerity.
Use no hurtful deceit ; think innocently and justly •
and, if you spealc, speak accordingly.
8. Justice.
Wrong none by doing injuries, or omitting the
benefits that are your auty.
20
230 AUTOBIOGRAPHT OF
9. Moderation.
Avoid extreams ; forbear resenting injuries so
much as you think they deserve.
10. Cleanliness.
Tolerate no uncleanhness in bodv, cloaths, or
habitation.
11. Tranquillity.
Be not disturbed at trifles, or at accidents com-
mon or unavoidable.
12. Chastity.
Rarely use venery but for health or offspring,
never to dulness, weakness, or the injury of your
own or another's peace or reputation.
13. Humility.
Imitate Jesus and Socrates.
My intention being to acquire the habitude of all
these virtues, I judg'd it would be well not to dis-
tract 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' the thirteen ;
and, as the previous acquisition of some might facili-
tate the acquisition of certain others, I arrang'd
them with that view, as they stand above. Tem-
perance first, as it tends to procure that coolness and
clearness of head, which is so necessary where con-
stant vigilance was to be kept up, and guard main-
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 23 I
tained against the unremitting attraction of ancient
habits, and the force of perpetual temptations. This
being acquir'd and establish'd, Silence would be
more easy ; and my desire being to gain knowledge
at the same time that I improv'd in virtue, and con-
sidering that in conversation it was obtain'd rather
by the use of the ears than of the tongue, and there-
fore 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 ex-
pected would allow me more time for attending to
my project and my studies. Resolution, once be-
come 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 exami-
* The verses here referred to are thus given as Englished from the
version of Hierocles :
" In this place you should collect together the sense of all the fore-
going precepts, that so giving heed to them as to the laws of God in the
inward judicature of the soul, you may make a just examination of what
you have done well or ill. For how will our remembrance reprehend us
for doing ill, or praise us for doing well, unless the preceding meditation
receive some laws, according to which the whole tenor of our life should
be ordered, and to which we should conform the very private recesses
of conscience all our lives long } He requires also that this examina-
tion be daily repeated, that by continual returns of recollection we may not
be deceived in our judgment. The time which he recommends for this
work is about even jr bed-time, that we may conclude the action of the day
232 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
nation would be necessary, I contrived the following
method for conducting that examination.
with the judgment of conscience, making the examination of our con
versation an evening song to God Wherein have I transgressed i
What have I done ? What duty have I omitted ? So shall we meas irt
our lives by the rules above mentioned, if to the law of the mind we
join the judgment of reason.
" What then does the law of the mind say ? That we should honor
the more excellent natures according to their essential order, that we
should have our parents and relations in high esteem, love and embrace
good men, raise ourselves above corporeal affections, everywhere stand
in awe of ourselves, carefully observe justice, consider the frailty of
riches and momentary life, embrace the lot which falls to us by divine
judgment, delight in a divine frame of spirit, convert our mind to what
is most excellent, love good discourses, not lie open to impostures, not
be servilely affected in the possession of virtue, advise before action to
prevent repentance, free ourselves from uncertain opinions, live with
knowledge, and lastly, that we should adapt our bodies and the things
without to the exercise of virtue. These are the things which the law-
giving mind has implanted in the souls of men, which when reason ad-
mits, it becomes a most vigilant judge of itself, in this manner, Wherein
have I transgressed .'' what have I done ? and if afterwards she finds her-
self to have spent the whole day agreeably to the foregoing rules, she is
rewarded with a divine complacency. And if she find anything done
amiss, she corrects herself by the restorative of an after admonition.
" Wherefore he would have us keep off sleep by the readiness and
alacrity of reason. And this the body will easily endure, if temperately
dieted it has not contracted a necessity of sleeping. By which means
even our most natural appetites are subjected to the empire of reason.
" Do not admit sleep (says he) till you have examin'd every action of
the day. And what is the form of examination ? Wherein have I trans-
gress'd? what have I done? what duty have I omitted.'' For we sin
two ways. By doing what we should not, and by not doing what we
should. For 'tis one thing not to do well, and another thing to conunit
evil. One is a sin of omission, and the other of commission.
" For instance, 'tis our duty to pray, but not to blaspheme ; to nourish
our parents but not to revile them. He that does the former of these
does what he ought, he that does the latter what he ought not Though
there is aj much guilt in a sin of omission as in a sin of commission.
"He exhorts also that we proceed methodically in our examination
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 233
I made a little book, in which I allotted a page
for each of the virtues. I rul'd each page with red
ink, so as to have seven columns, one for each day
of tlie week, marking each column with a letter for
the day. I cross'd 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.*
from the beginning to the end, leaving nothing out in the middle, which
is implied by the word, runover. For oftentimes change of order deceives
the judgment, and makes us favorable to our ill actions through dis-
order of memory. Besides, a daily recollection of our actions begets
care and studiousness of conversation, and a sense of our immortality.
And this is worth our admiration, that when he bid us recollect every-
thing, yet he added not. Wherein have I done well ? or what duty have
I perform'd ? But he turn'd the memory to what was a less occasion of
pride, requiring a scrutiny only of our sins. And as for the judge, he
has constituted that which is most just and impartial, and most intimate
and domestick, the conscience, right reason, or a man's self, which he
had before caution'd us to stand in awe of above all things. For
who can so admonish another as every man can himself ? For he
that is at his own liberty will use the freedom of nature, and shake off
the admonitions of others, when he is not minded to follow them. But
reason, which is within us, cannot chuse but hear itselt God has set
this over us as a guardian, instructor and schoolmaster. And this the
verse makes the judge of the day's action, acquiesces in its determina-
tion whether it condemns or approves itself. For when it reads over
what is done in the register of memory, then, looking to the exemplar of
the law, it pronounces itself worthy of honor or dishonor. This course,
if daily follow'd, perfects the divine image in them that use it, leading
them by additions and subtractions to the beauty of virtue, and all attain,
able perfection. For here end the instructions about civil virtue."— Ed.
* This "little book" is dated ist of July, 1733.— W. T. F.
20*
^34
AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
Fonn of the ^ages.
TEMPERANCE.
EAT NOT TO DULNESS ;
DRINK NOT TO ELEVATION.
S.
M.
T.
W.
T.
K
S.
T.
S.
*
*
*
*
o.
* *
*
*
*
*
*
R.
*
*
F.
*
*
I.
*
S.
J-
M.
C.
T.
C.
H.
I determined to give a week's strict attention to
each of the virtues successively. Thus, in the first
week, my great guard was to avoid every the least
offence against Tanperance, leaving the other vir-
tues 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'd the habit of that virtue so much
strengthen'd, and its opposite weaken'd, 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' a course compleat in thirteen weeks, and four
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 235
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'd the first, proceeds to
a second, so I should have, I hoped, the encourag-
ing 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' daily examination.
This my little book had for its motto these lines
from Addison's Cato :
" Here will I hold. If there's a power above us
(And that there is, all nature cries aloud
Thro' all her works), He must delight in virtue ;
And that which he delights in must be happy."
Another from Cicero,
" O vitje Philosophia dux ! O virtutum indagatrix expultrixque vitio-
rum ! Unus dies, bene et ex prseceptis tuis actus, peccanti immortalitati
est anteponendus."
Another from the Proverbs of Solomon, speaking
of wisdom or virtue :
" Length of days is in her right hand, and in her left hand riches and
honour. Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are
peace." iii. 16, 17.
And conceiving God to be the fountain of wisdom,
I diought it right and necessary to solicit his assist-
ance for obtaining it ; to this end I formed the
236
AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
following' little prayer, which was prefix'd to my
tables of examination, for daily use.
" O powerful Goodness ! bountiful Father ! merciful Guide ! Increase
in me that wisdom which discovers my truest interest. Strengthen my
resolutions to perform what that wisdom dictates. Accept my kind ojices
to thy other children as the only return in my power for thy continual
favours to ;«<?."
I used also sometimes a little prayer which I took
from Thomson's Poems, viz. :
" Father of light and life, thou Good Supreme !
O teach me what is good ; teach me Thyself!
Save me from folly, vanity, and vice,
From every low pursuit ; and fill my soul
With knowledge, conscious peace, and virtue pure ;
Sacred, substantial, never-fading bliss !"
The precept of Order requiring that every -part
of my business should have its allotted time, one
page in my little book contain'd the following
scheme of employment for the twenty-four hours of
a natural day.
The Morning.
Question. What good shall I
do this day ?
Noon.
51
6
8
9
10
II
12
{.}
Rise, wash, and address Pow-
erfid Goodness! Contrive day's
business, and take the resolution
of the day ; prosecute the pre-
sent study, and breakfast
Work.
Read, or overlook my ac-
counts, and dine.
2
4
5.
■ Work.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
237
EVENINO.
Questioi. What good
done to-day ?
have
I
6
7
8
. 9.
10
II
Put things in their places.
Supper. Music or diversion,
or conversation. Examinatioa
of the day.
Night.
12
I
2
3
. 4J
• Sleep.
I enter'd upon the execution of this plan for self-
examination, and continu'd it with occasional inter-
missions for some time. I was surpris'd 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'd my
tables and precepts to the ivory leaves of a memo-
randum book, on which the lines were drawn with
red ink, that made a durable stain, and on those
lines I mark'd my faults with a black-lead pencil,
which marks I could easily wipe out with a wet
sponge. After a while I went thro' one course only
in a year, and afterward only one in several years,
till at length I omitted them entirely, being employ'd
in voyages and business abroad, with a multiplicity
of affairs that interfered ; but I always carried my
little book with me.
My scheme of Order gave me the most trouble ;
238 AUTOBIOGRAPHr OF
and I found that, tho' it might be practicable where
a man's business was such as to leave him the dis-
position of his time, that of a journeyman printer,
for instance, it was not possible to be exactly ob-
served 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 at-
tention, 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 buy-
ing 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'd, while the smith
press'd 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 far-
ther grinding. "No," said the smith, "turn on,
turn on ; we shall have it bright by-and by ; as yet,
it is only speckled." " Yes," says the man, " but I
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 239
think I like a speckled ax best." And I believe this
may have been the case with many, who, having,
for want of some such means as I employ'd, 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 "« speckled
ax was besi;'^ 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 incon-
venience of being envied and hated ; and that a
benevolent man should allow a few faults in himself,
to keep his friends in countenance.
In truth, I found myself incorrigible with respect
to Order ; and now I am grown old, and my me-
mory bad, I feel very sensibly the want of it. But,
on the whole, tho' 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 per-
fect writing by imitating the engraved copies, tho'
they never reach the wish'd-for excellence of those
copies, their hand is mended by the endeavor, and
is tolerable while it continues fair and legible.
It may be well my posterity should be informed
that to this little artifice, with the blessing of God,
their ancestor ow'd the constant felicity of his life,
240 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
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 reflec-
tion on past happiness enjoy'd ought to help his
bearing them with more resignation. To Tempe-
rance 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 citi-
zen, and obtained for him some degree of reputation
among the learned ; to Sincerity and Justice, the
confidence of his country, and the honorable em-
ploys it conferred upon him ; and to the joint influ-
ence 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 con-
versation, which makes his company still sought
for, and agreeable even to his younger acquaint-
ance. I hope, therefore, that some of my descend-
ants may follow the example and reap the benefit.
It will be remark'd that, tho' m}'^ 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 m}
method, and that it might be serviceable to people
in all religions, and intending some time or other to
* This was written, therefore, in 1785, the year the Doctor returned
from Paris. — Ed.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 24 1
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 oppo-
site 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's 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. —
James ii. 15, 16.
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 con-
nected in my mind with a great and extensive -pro-
ject, that required the whole man to execute, and
which an unforeseen succession of employs pre-
vented my attending to, it has hitherto remain'd
unfinish'd.
* Nothing so likely to make a man's fortune as virtue. — Marg. note.
21 L
242 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
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's in-
terest to be virtuous who wish'd 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 endea-
vored to convince young persons that no qualities
were so likely to make a poor man's fortune as those
of probity and integrity.
My list of virtues contain'd at first but twelve ;
but a Quaker friend having kindly informed me that
I was generally thought proud ; that my pride
show'd 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'd 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.
I cannot boast of much success in acquiring the
reality of this virtue, but I had a good deal with
regard to the af;pearance 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
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 243
forbid myself, agreeably to the old laws of our
Junto, the use of every word or expression in the
language that imported a fix'd opinion, such as
certainly^ undoubtedly^ etc., and I adopted, instead
of them, / conceive^ I apprehend, or / imagine a
thing to be so or so ; or it so appears to me at pre-
sent. When another asserted something that I
thought an error, I deny'd myself the pleasure of
contradicting him abruptly, and of showing imme-
diately 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 appeared or seemed to me
some difference, etc. I soon found the advantage
of this change in my manner ; the conversations I
engag'd in went on more pleasantly. The modest
way in which I propos'd my opinions procur'd 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'd with others to
give up their mistakes and join with me when I
happened to be in the right.
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 altera-
244 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
tions 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 hesi-
tation in my choice of words, hardly correct in lan-
guage, and yet I generally earned my points.
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.
[Thus far written at Passy, 1784.]
[*' / am now about to -write at home, August ^
1788, btct can not have the help expected from
my papers, many of them being lost in the war,
I have, however, found the following "~\ *
H
AVING mentioned a great and extensive
project which I had conceiv'd, it seems pro-
per that some account should be here given of that
project and its object. Its first rise in my mind ap-
pears in the following little paper, accidentally pre-
serv'd, viz. :
Observations on my reading history, in Library,
May 19th, 1731.
"That the great affairs of the world, the wars,
revolutions, etc., are carried on and effected by
parties.
* This is a marginal memorandum. — Ed.
21* 245
246 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
*' That the view of these parties is their present
general interest, or what they take to be such.
*'That the different views of these different par
ties occasion all confusion.
"That while a party is carr^'ing on a general
design, each man has his particular private interest
in view.
"That as soon as a party has gain'd its general
point, each member becomes intent upon his par-
ticular interest; which, thwarting others, breaks
that party into divisions, and occasions more con-
fusion.
" That few in public affairs act from a meer view
of the good of their country, whatever they may
pretend ; and, tho' their actings bring real good to
their country, yet men primarily considered that
their own and their country's interest was united,
and did not act from a principle of benevolence.
"That fewer still, in public affairs, act with a
view to the good of mankind.
" There seems to me at present to be great occa-
sion for raising a United Party for Virtue, by form-
ing the virtuous and good men of all nations into a
regular body, to be govern'd by suitable good and
wise rules, which good and wise men may probably
be more unanimous in their obedience to, than com-
mon people are to common laws.
" I at present think that whoever attempts this
aright, and is well qualified, can not fail of pleasing
God, and of meeting with success. B. F."
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 247
Revolving this project in my mind, as to be under-
taken hereafter, when my circumstances should
afford me the necessary leisure, I put down from
time to time, on pieces of paper, such thoughts as
occurr'd to me respecting it. Most of these are
lost ; but I find one purporting to be the substance
of an intended creed, containing, as I thought, the
essentials of every known religion, and being free
of every thing that might shock the professors of
any religion. It is express'd in these words, viz. :
" That there is one God, who made all things.
** That he governs the world by his providence.
" That he ought to be worshiped by adoration,
prayer, and thanksgiving.
" But that the most acceptable service of God is
doing good to man.
" That the soul is immortal.
' ' And that God will certainly reward virtue and
punish vice, either here or hereafter."*
My ideas at that time were, that the sect should
be begun and spread at first among young and single
men only ; that each person to be initiated should
not only declare his assent to such creed, but should
have exercised himself with the thirteen weeks' ex-
amination and practice of the virtues, as in the be-
fore-mention'd model ; that the existence of such a
society should be kept a secret, till it was become
* In the Middle Ages, Franklin, if such a phenomenon as Franklin
were possible in the Middle Ages, would probably have been the founder
of a monastic order. — Ed.
248 AUTOBIOGRAPHT OF
considerable, to prevent solicitations for the admis-
sion of improper persons, but that the members
should each of them search among his acquaintance
for ingenuous, well-disposed youths, to whom, with
prudent caution, the scheme should be gradually
communicated ; that the members should engage to
afford their advice, assistance, and support to each
other in promoting one another's interests, business,
and advancement in life ; that, for distinction, we
should be call'd The Society of the Free and Easy :
free, as being, by the general practice and habit
of the virtues, free from the dominion of vice ; and
particularly by the practice of industry and frugality,
free from debt, which exposes a man to confinement,
and a species of slavery to his creditors.
This is as much as I can now recollect of the
project, except that I communicated it in part to two
young men, who adopted it with some enthusiasm;
but my then narrow circumstances, and the neces-
sity I was under of sticking close to my business,
occasion'd my postponing the further prosecution
of it at that time ; and my multifarious occupations,
public and private, induc'd me to continue postpon-
ing, so that it has been omitted till I have no longer
strength or activity left sufficient for such an enter-
prise ; tho' I am still of opinion that it was a practi-
cable scheme, and might have been very useful, by
forming a great number of good citizens ; and I was
not discourag'd by the seeming magnitude of the
undertaking, as I have always thought that one
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 249
man of tolerable abilities may work great changes,
and accomplish great affairs among mankind, if he
first forms a good plan, and, cutting off all amuse-
ments or other employments that would divert his
attention, makes the execution of that same plan his
sole study and business.
In 1732 I first publish'd my Almanack, under the
name of Richard Saunders; it was continu'd by
me about twenty-five years, commonly call'd Poor
Richard's Almanac. I endeavor'd to make it both
entertaining and useful, and it accordingly came to
be in such demand, that I reap'd considerable profit
from it, vending annually near ten thousand.* And
observing that it was generally read, scarce any
* The advertisement to the first number of this the most celebrated
of Almanacs was printed in the Pennsylvania Gazette on the 19th of
December, 1732. Though appearing thus late in the season, three
editions of No. i vk-ere sold before the end of January. The advertise-
ment ran as follows :
"Just published, for 1733, An Almanack, containing the Lunations,
Eclipses, Planets' Motions and Aspects, Weather, Sun and Moon's
Rising and Setting, High Water, etc. ; besides many pleasant and witty
Verses, Jests, and Sayings ; Author's Motive of Writing ; Prediction of
the Death of his Friend, Mr. Titan Leeds ; Moon no Cukold ; Bache-
lor's Folly ; Parson's Wine and Baker's Pudding ; Short Visits ; Kings
and Bears ; New Fashions ; Game for Kisses ; Katherine's Love ; Dif-
ferent Sentiments ; Signs of a Tempest ; Death of a Fisherman ; Con-
jugal Debate ; Men and Melons ; The Prodigal ; Breakfast in Bed ;
Oyster Law-suit, etc. By Richard Saunders, Philomat. Printed and
Sold by B. Franklin."
I believe there is no complete collection of this Almanac in exist,
ence. The most complete one that I have any knowledge of was made
by Mr. Doggett, for some years the publisher of a New York Directory.
At his death, however, the collection was dispersed. — Ed.
250 AUTOBIOGRAPHT OF
neighborhood in the province being without it, 1
consider'd it as a proper vehicle for conveying in-
struction among the common people, who bought
scarcely any other books ; I therefore filled all the
little spaces that occurr'd between the remarkable
days in the calendar with proverbial sentences,
chiefly such as inculcated industry and frugality, as
the meansof procuring wealth, and thereby securing
virtue ; it being more difficult for a man in want, to
act always honestly, as, to use here one of those
proverbs, it is hard for an empty sack to stand uf-
right.
These proverbs, which contained the wisdom of
many ages and nations, I assembled and form'd into
a connected discourse prefix'd to the Almanack of
1757, as the harangue of a wise old man to the
people attending an auction. The bringing all
these scatter'd counsels thus into a focus enabled
them to make greater impression. The piece, being
universally approved, was copied in all the news-
papers of the Continent ; reprinted in Britain on a
broad side, to be stuck up in houses ; two transla-
tions were made of it in French, and great numbers
bought by the clergy and gentry, to distribute gratis
among their poor parishioners and tenants. In
Pennsylvania, as it discouraged useless expense in
foreign superfluities, some thought it had its share
of influence in producing that growing plenty of
money which was observable for several years after
its publication.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 2$!
I considered my newspaper, also, as another
means of communicating instruction, and in that
view frequently reprinted in it extracts from the
Spectator, and other moral writers ; and sometimes
publish'd little pieces of my own, which had been
first compos'd for reading in our Junto. Of these
are a Socratic dialogue, tending to prove that, what-
ever might be his parts and abilities, a vicious man
could not properly be called a man of sense ; and a
discourse on self-denial, showing that virtue was
not secure till its practice became a habitude, and
was free from the opposition of contrary inclinations.
These may be found in the papers about the begin-
ning of 1735.
In the conduct of my newspaper, I carefully ex-
cluded all libelling and personal abuse, which is of
late years become so disgraceful to our country.
Whenever I was solicited to insert any thing of that
kind, and the writers pleaded, as they generally did,
the liberty of the press, and that a newspaper was
like a stage-coach, in which any one who would pay
had a right to a place, my answer was, that I would
print the piece separately if desired, and the author
might have as many copies as he pleased to distri-
bute himself, but that I would not take upon me to
spread his detraction ; and that, having contracted
with my subscribers to furnish them with what might
be either useful or entertaining, I could not fill their
papers v^'ith private altercation, in which they had
no concern, without doing them manifest injustice.
252 ATITOBIOGRAPHT OF
Now, many of our printers make no scruple of grati-
fying the malice of individuals by false accusations
of the fairest characters among ourselves, augment-
ing animosity even to the producing of duels ; and
are, moreover, so indiscreet as to print scurrilous
reflections on the government of neighboring states,
and even on the conduct of our best national allies,
which may be attended with the most pernicious
consequences. These things I mention as a caution
to young printers, and that they may be encouraged
not to pollute their presses and disgrace their pro-
fession by such infamous practices, but refuse stead-
ily, as they may see by my example that such a
course of conduct will not, on the whole, be injurious
to their interests.
In 1733 I sent one of my journeymen to Charles-
ton, South Carolina, where a printer was wanting.
I furnish'd him with a press and letters, on an agree-
ment of partnership, by which I was to receive one-
third of the profits of the business, paying one-third
of the expense. He was a man of learning, and
honest but ignorant in matters of account ; and, tho'
he sometimes made me remittances, I could get no
account from him, nor any satisfactory state of our
partnership while he lived. On his decease, the
business was continued by his widow, who, being
born and bred in Holland, where, as I have been
inform'd, the knowledge of accounts makes a part
of female education, she not only sent me as clear a
state as she could find of the transactions past, but
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 253
continued to account with the greatest regularity
and exactness every quarter afterwards, and managed
the business with such success, that she not only
brought up reputably a family of children, but, at
the expiration of the term, was able to purchase of
me the printing-house, and establish her son in it.
I mention this affair chiefly for the sake of recom-
mending that branch of education for our young
females, as likely to be of more use to them and
their children, in case of widowhood, than either
music or dancing, by preserving them from losses
by imposition of crafty men, and enabling them to
continue, perhaps, a profitable mercantile house,
with establish'd correspondence, till a son is grown
up fit to undertake and go on with it, to the lasting
advantage and enriching of the family.
About the year 1734 there arrived among us from
Ireland a young Presbyterian preacher, named
Hemphill, who delivered with a good voice, and
apparently extempore, most excellent discourses,
which drew tocrether considerable numbers of dif-
ferent persuasions, who join'd in admiring them.
Amoncr the rest, I became one of his constant
hearers, his sermons pleasing me, as they had little
of the dogmatical kind, but inculcated strongly the
practice of virtue, or what in the religious stile are
called good works. Those, however, of our con-
gregation, who considered themselves as orthodox
Presb3^terians, disapprov'd his doctrine, and were
Join'd by most of the old clergy, who arraign'd
22
254 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
him of heterodoxy before the synod, in order to
have him silenc'd. I became his zealous partisan,
and contributed all I could to raise a party in his
favour, and we combated for him a while with some
hopes of success. There was much scribbling pro
and con upon the occasion ; and finding that, tho'
an elegant preacher, he was but a poor writer, T
lent him my pen and wrote for him two or three
pamphlets, and one piece in the Gazette of April,
1735. Those pamphlets, as is generally the case
with controversial writings, tho' eagerly read at the
time, were soon out of vogue, and I question whe-
ther a single copy of them now exists.
During the contest an unlucky occurrence hurt
his cause exceedingly. One of our adversaries
having heard him preach a sermon that was much
admired, thought he had somewhere read the sermon
before, or at least a part of it. On search, he found
that part quoted at length, in one of the British
Reviews, from a discourse of Dr. Foster's. This
detection gave many of our party disgust, who
accordingly abandoned his cause, and occasion'd
our more speedy discomfiture in the synod. I stuck
b}^ him, however, as I rather approv'd his giving us
good sermons compos'd by others, than bad ones of
his own manufacture, tho' the latter was the practice
of our common teachers. He afterward acknow-
ledg'd to me that none of those he preach'd were his
own ; adding, that his memory was such as enabled
him to retain and repeat any sermon after one read-
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 255
ing only. On our defeat, he left us in search else-
where of better fortune, and I quitted the congrega-
tion, never joining it after, tho' I continu'd many
years my subscription for the support of its min-
isters.
I had begun in 1733 to study languages; I soon
made myself so much a master of the French as to
be able to read the books with ease. I then under-
took the Italian. An acquaintance, who was also
learning it, us'd often to tempt me to play chess with
him. Finding this took up too much of the time I
had to spare for study, I at length refus'd to play
any more, unless on this condition, that the victor
in every game should have a right to impose a task,
either in parts of the grammar to be got by heart,
or in translations, etc., which tasks the vanquish'd
was to perform upon honour, before our next meet-
ing. As we play'd pretty equally, we thus beat one
another into that language. I afterwards with a
little painstaking, acquir'd as much of the Spanish
as to read their books also.
I have already mention'd that I had only one
year's instruction in a Latin school, and that when
very young, after which I neglected that language
entirely. But, when I had attained an acquaintance
with the French, Italian, and Spanish, I was sur-
priz'd to find, on looking over a Latin Testament,
that I understood so much more of that language
than I had imagined, which encouraged me to apply
myself again to the study of it, and I met with more
256 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
success, as those preceding languages had greatly
smooth'd my way.
From these circumstances, I have thought that
there is some inconsistency in our common mode of
teaching languages. We are told that it is proper
to begin first with the Latin, and, having acquir'd
that, it will be more easy to attain those modern
languages which are deriv'd from it ; and yet we do
not begin with the Greek, in order more easily to
acquire the Latin. It is true that, if you can clamber
and get to the top of a staircase without using the
steps, you will more easily gain them in descending ;
but certainly, if you begin with the lowest you will
with more ease ascend to the top ; and I would
therefore offer it to the consideration of those who
superintend the education of our youth, whether,
since many of those who begin with the Latin quit
the same after spending som^e years without hav-
ing made any great proficiency, and what they
have learnt becomes almost useless, so that their
time has been lost, it would not have been better
to have begun with the French, proceeding to the
Italian, etc. ; for, tho', after spending the same time,
they should quit the study of languages and never
arrive at the Latin, they would, however, have
acquired another tongue or two, that, being in
modern use, might be serviceable to them in com-
mon life.*
* It may be doubted whether any thing more wise than this has been
written upon the much-vexed question to which it relates. The au-
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 257
After ten years' absence from Boston, and having
become easy in my circumstances, I made a journey
thither to visit my relations, which I could not sooner
well afford. In returning, I call'd at Newport to
see my brother, then settled there with his printing-
house. Our former differences were forgotten, and
our meeting was very cordial and affectionate. He
was fast declining in his health, and requested of me
that, in case of his death, which he apprehended
not far distant, I would take home his son, then but
thority of Franklin, the most eminently practical man of his age, in favor
of reserving the study of the dead languages until the mind has reached
a certain maturity, is confirmed by the confession of one of the most
eminent scholars of any age.
" Our seminaries of learning," says Gibbon, " do not exactly correspond
with the precept of a Spartan king, * that the child should be instructed in
the arts which will be useful to the man ;' since a finished scholar may
emerge fi-om the head of Westminster or Eton, in total ignorance of the
business and conversation of English gentlemen in the latter end of
the eighteenth century. But these schools may assume the merit of
teaching all that they pretend to teach, the Latin and Greek languages :
they deposit in the hands of a disciple the keys of two valuable chests ;
nor can he complain, if they are afterwards lost or neglected by his
own fault. The necessity of leading in equal ranks so many unequal
powers of capacity and application, will prolong to eight or ten years
the juvenile studies, which might be despatched in half that time by the
skilful master of a single pupil. Yet even the repetition of exercise
and discipline contiibutes to fix in a vacant mind the verbal science of
grammar and prosody : and the private or voluntary student, who
possesses the sense and spirit of the classics, may offend, by a false
quantity, the scrupulous ear of a well-flogged critic. For myself, I must
be content with a very small share of the civil and literary fi-uits of a
public school. In the space of two years (1749, 1750), interrupted by
danger and debility, I pamfully climbed into the third form ; and my
riper age was left to acquire the beauties of the Latin and the rudiments
of the Greek tongue." — Ed.
22*
258 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
ten years of age, and bring him up to the printing
business. This I accordingly perform'd, sending
him a few years to school before I took him into the
office. His mother carried on the business till he
was grown up, when I assisted him with an assort-
ment of new types, those of his father being in a
manner worn out. Thus it was that I made my
brother ample amends for the service I had depriv'd
him of by leaving him so early.
In 1736 I lost one of my sons, a fine boy of four
years old, by the small-pox, taken in the common
way. I long regretted bitterly, and still regret
that I had not given it to him by inoculation. This
I mention for the sake of parents who omit that
operation, on the supposition that they should never
forgive themselves if a child died under it ; my ex-
ample showing that the regret may be the same
either way, and that, therefore, the safer should be
chosen.
Our club, the Junto, was found so useful, and
afforded such satisfaction to the members, that se-
veral were desirous of introducing their friends,
which could not well be done without exceeding
what we had settled as a convenient number, viz.,
twelve. We had from the beginning made it a rule
to keep our institution a secret, which was pretty
well observ'd ; the intention was to avoid applica-
tions of improper persons for admittance, some of
whom, perhaps, we might find it difficult to refuse.
I was one of those who were against any addition
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 259
to our number, but, instead of it, made In writing a
proposal, that every member separately should en-
deavor to form a subordinate club, with the same
rules respecting queries, etc., and without informing
them of the connection with the Junto. The advan-
tages proposed were, the improvement of so many
more young citizens by the use of our institutions ;
our better acquaintance with the general sentiments
of the inhabitants on any occasion, as the Junto
member might propose what queries we should de-
sire, and was to report to the Junto what pass'd in
his separate club ; the promotion of our particular
interests in business by more extensive recommen-
dation, and the increase of our influence in public
affairs, and our power of doing good by spreading
thro' the several clubs the sentiments of the Junto.
The project was approv'd, and every member
undertook to form his club, but they did not all suc-
ceed. Five or six only were compleated, which
were called by different names, as the Vine, the
Union, the Band, etc. They were useful to them-
selves, and afforded us a good deal of amusement,
information, and instruction, besides answering, in
some considerable degree, our views of influencing
the public opinion on particular occasions, of which
I shall give some instances in course of time as
they happened.
My first promotion was my being chosen, in 1736,
clerk of the General Assembly. The choice was
made that year without opposition ; but the year
26o AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
following, when I was again propos'd (the choice,
like that of the members, being annual), a new
member made a long speech against me, in order to
favour some other candidate. I was, however,
chosen, which was the more agreeable to me, as,
besides the pay for the immediate service as clerk,
the place gave me a better opportunity of keeping
up an interest among the members, which secur'd
to me the business of printing the votes, laws, paper
money, and other occasional jobbs for the public,
that, on the whole, were very profitable.
I therefore did not like the opposition of this new
member, who was a gentleman of fortune and edu-
cation, with talents that were likely to give him, in
time, great influence in the House, which, indeed,
afterwards happened. I did not, however, aim at
gaining his favour by paying any servile respect to
him, but, after some time, took this other method.
Having heard that he had in his library a certain
very scarce and curious book, I wrote a note to him,
expressing my desire of perusing that book, and
requesting he would do me the favour of lending
it to me for a few days. He sent it immediately,
and I return'd it in about a week with another note,
expressing strongly my sense of the favour. When
we next met in the House, he spoke to me (which
he had never done before), and with great civility ;
and he ever after manifested a readiness to serve
me on all occasions, so that we became great
friends, and our friendship continued to his death.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 26 1
This is another instance of the truth of an old maxim
I had learned, which says, '■'■He that has once done
yotc a kindness will he more ready to do you an-
other^ tha?i he zvhom you yourself have obligedJ'^
And it shows how much more profitable it is pru-
dently to remove, than to resent, return, and con-
tinue inimical proceedings.
In 1737, Colonel Spotswood, late governor of
Virginia, and then postmaster-general, being dis-
satisfied with the conduct of his deputy at Philadel-
phia, respecting some negligence in rendering, and
inexactitude of his accounts, took from him the
commission and offered it to me. I accepted it
readily, and found it of great advantage ; for, tho'
the salary was small, it facilitated the correspond-
ence that improv'd my newspaper, increas'd the
number demanded, as well as the advertisements to
be inserted, so that it came to afford me a consider-
able income. M}'' old competitor's newspaper de-
clin'd proportionably, and I was satisfy'd without
retaliating his refusal, while postmaster, to permit
my papers being carried by the riders. Thus he
suffer'd greatly from his neglect in due accounting ;
and I mention it as a lesson to those young men who
may be employ'd in managing affairs for others,
tha\ they should always render accounts, and make
remittances, with great clearness and punctuality.
The character of observing such a conduct is the
most powerful of all recommendations to new em-
ployments and increase of business.
262 AUTOBIOGRAPHT OF
I began now to turn my thoughts a little to public
affairs, beginning, however, with small matters.
The city watch was one of the first things that I
conceiv'd to want regulation. It was managed by
the constables of the respective wards in turn ; the
constable warned a number of housekeepers to at-
tend him for the night. Those who chose never to
attend, paid him six shillings a year to be excus'd,
which was suppos'd to be for hiring substitutes, but
was, in reality, much more than was necessary for
that purpose, and made the constableship a place of
profit ; and the constable, for a little drink, often got
such ragamuffins about him as a watch, that respect-
able housekeepers did not choose to mix with.
Walking the rounds, too, was often neglected, and
most of the nights spent in tippling. I thereupon
wrote a paper to be read in Junto, representing
these irregularities, but insisting more particularly
on the inequality of this six-shilling tax of the con-
stables, respecting the circumstances of those who
paid it, since a poor widow housekeeper, all whose
property to be guarded by the watch did not per-
haps exceed the value of fifty pounds, paid as much
as the wealthiest merchant, who had thousands of
pounds' worth of goods in his stores.
On the whole, I proposed as a more effectual
watch, the hiring of proper men to serve constantly
in that business ; and as a more equitable way of
supporting the charge, the levying a tax that should
be proportion'd to the property. This idea, being
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 263
approv'd by the Junto, was communicated to the
other chibs, but as arising in each of them ; and
though the plan was not immediately carried into
execution, yet, by preparing the minds of people for
the change, it paved the way for the law obtained a
few years after, when the members of our clubs
were grown into more influence.
About this time I wrote a paper (first to be read
in Junto, but it was afterward publish'd) on the dif-
ferent accidents and carelessnesses by which houses
were set on fire, with cautions against them, and
means proposed of avoiding them. This was much
spoken of as a useful piece, and gave rise to a pro-
ject, which soon followed it, of forming a company
for the more ready extinguishing of fires, and mutual
assistance in removing and securing of goods when
in danger. Associates in this scheme were presently
found, amounting to thirty. Our articles of agree-
ment oblig'd every member to keep always in good
order, and fit for use, a certain number of leather
buckets, with strong bags and baskets (for packing
and transporting of goods) , which were to be brought
to every fire ; and we agreed to meet once a month
and spend a social evening together, in discoursing
and communicating such ideas as occurred to us
upon the subject of fires, as might be useful in our
conduct on such occasions.
The utility of this institution soon appeared, and
many more desiring to be admitted than we thought
convenient for one company, they were advised to
264 AUTOBIOGRAPIir OF
form another, which was accordingly done ; and this
went on, one new company being formed after an-
other, till they became so numerous as to include
most of the inhabitants who were men of property ;
and now, at the time of my writing this, tho' up-
ward of fifty years since its establishment, that which
I first formed, called the Union Fire Company, still
subsists and flourishes, tho' the first members are all
deceas'd but myself and one, who is older by a year
than I am. The small fines that have been paid by
members for absence at the monthly meetings have
been apply'd to the purchase of fire-engines, lad-
ders, fire-hooks, and other useful implements for
each company, so that I question whether there is a
city in the world better provided with the means of
putting a stop to beginning conflagrations ; and, in
fact, since these institutions, the city has never lost
by fire more than one or two houses at a time, and
the flames have often been extinguished before the
house in which they began has been half consumed.*
* This fire company was formed Dec. 7, 1736. It was designed pn-
marily for the security of the property of its members, though they did
not limit their usefulness to their own members when their property was
not in danger. The Union Fire Company was in active service as late
as 1 79 1. In a roll of the companies of that day we find it heading the
list, having thirty members, one engine, two hundred and fifty buckets,
thirteen ladders, two hooks, no bags, and one eighty-foot rope.
It will be seen by the articles of association which follow, that the
number of members was restricted to thirty. The applicants in a year
or t^vo much exceeded this number, and there being no possibility of
uniting with it, measures were taken to form a new company, which re-
sulted in 1738 in the establishment of the second voluntary fire company,
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 26$
In 1739 arrived among us from Ireland the Rev-
erend Mr. Whitefield, who had made himself re-
" The Fellowship." See a series of interesting sketches of the fire ap-
paratds and the Philadelphia Fire Department, between the years 1701
and 1802, written for the Philadelphia Sunday Dispatchy by Thompson
Westcott.
" Articles of the Union Fire Company of Philadelphia, originally formed
Dec. 7, 1736.
" I. That we will each of us, at his own proper charge, provide six
leather buckets and two bags, the bags to be made of good ozenburgs or
wider linen, whereof each bag shall contain four yards at least, and shall
have a running cord near the mouth, which said buckets and bags shall
be marked with their own names respectively and company, and shall
be kept ready at hand, and shall be applied to no other use than for pre-
serving our own and our fellow-citizens' houses, goods and effects, in
case of fire as aforesaid.
" II. That if any of us shall neglect to provide his buckets and bags
as aforesaid, or when so provided shall neglect to keep them ready for
the uses herein mentioned, or shall apply them to any other purpose, he
shall forfeit and pay to the clerk for the time being, for the use of the
company, the sum of i-8th of a dollar for each bucket or bag misapplied
or wanting, except any of them happen to be lost at a fire.
" III. That if any of the buckets or bags so marked as aforesaid shall
be lost or damaged at any fire, the same shall be supplied or repaired
out of the stock of the company, provided notice be given thereof to the
company within four months after such loss or damage.
" IV. That we will, all of us, upon hearing of Fire breaking out, im-
mediately repair to the same with at least one-half of our buckets and
bags, and there exert our best endeavors to extinguish such fire, and
preserve the goods and effects of such of us as may be in danger.
And if more than one of us shall be in danger at one time, we will divide
ourselves with the remainder of our buckets and bags as nearly as may
be, to be equally helpful. And to prevent suspicious persons from
coming into or carrying any goods out of such houses as may be in
danger, two of our members shall constantly attend at the doors until all
the goods and effects that can be saved are packed up and carried to a
place of safety. And upon hearing the cry of Fire in the night-time
we \n\\ immediately cause sufficient lights to be distributed in such parts
of the houses of such of our company as may be thought in danger, in
23 • M
266 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
markable there as an itinerant preacher. He was
at first permitted to preach in some of our churches ;
but the clergy, taking a dislike to him, soon refus'd
him their pulpits, and he was oblig'd to preach in
the fields. The multitudes of all sects and denomi-
nations that attended his sermons were enormous,
order to prevent confusion and enable their friends to give them moie
speedy and effectual assistance. And moreover, as this association is
intended for a general benefit, we do further agree, that whenever a
Fire breaks out in any part of the city, though none of our houses, goods
or effects may be in apparent danger, we will nevertheless repair thither
with our buckets and bags as before mentioned, and give our utmost
assistance to such of our fellow-citizens as may stand in need of it, in the
same manner as if they belonged to this company.
" V. Provides for eight meetings during the year, and every member
shall pay three shillings for his share of the reckoning of the evening.
Members not there at the commencement of the evening to pay one
shilling ; those not there during the entire evening to pay four shilling.
" VI. Provides that each of us, in our turns, agreeable to the order
of our subscriptions, serve the company as clerk or get some other mem-
ber to serve in our stead, whose duty it shall be to inspect the condition
of all our buckets, bags, ladders and engine, and make report at each
meeting. The article also sets out the duties of the clerk, such as giv-
ing notice of meetings, keeping minutes, etc.
"VII. Provides for the election of treasurer and prescribes his duties.
"VIII. Provides that the company shall not consist of more than
thirty members, etc.
" IX. Provides that each member shall keep a copy of these articles
and a list of all the members' names fixed in open view near his buckets,
on pain of forfeiture for each, as often as the same is reported to the
company.
" X. Provides that all fines shall be paid to the treasurer for the use
of the company.
" XI. That upon the death of any of our company the survivors shall,
in time of danger as aforesaid, be aiding and assisting the widow of such
decedent during her widowhood, as if her husband had been living — she
only keeping her buckets and bags in repair, and causing them to be
sent to every fire aforesaid." — Ed.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 267
and it was matter of speculation to me, who was one
of the number, to observe the extraordinary influ-
ence of his oratory on his hearers, and how much
they admir'd and respected him, notwithstanding
his common abuse of them, by assuring them they
were naturally half beasts and half devils. It was
wonderful to see the change soon made in the
manners of our inhabitants. From being thought-
less or indifferent about religion, it seem'd as if
all the world were growing religious, so that one
could not walk thro' the town in an evening without
hearing psalms sung in different families of every
street.
And it being found inconvenient to assemble in
the open air, subject to its inclemencies, the build-
ing of a house to meet in was no sooner propos'd,
and persons appointed to receive contributions, but
sufficient sums were soon receiv'd to procure the
ground and erect the building, which was one hun-
dred feet long and seventy broad, about the size of
Westminster Hall ; and the work was carried on
with such spirit as to be finished in a much shorter
time than could have been expected. Both house
and ground were vested in trustees, expressly for
the use of any preacher of any religious persuasion
who might desire to say something to the people at
Philadelphia ; the design in building not being to
accommodate any particular sect, but the inhabitants
in general ; so that even if the Mufti of Constanti-
nople were to send a missionary to preach Moham-
268 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
medanism to us, he would find a pulpit at his
service.
Mr. Whitefield, in leaving us, went preaching all
the way thro' the colonies to Georgia. The set-
tlement of that province had lately been begun, but,
instead of being made with hardy, industrious hus-
bandmen, accustomed to labor, the only people fit
for such an enterprise, it was with families of broken
shop-keepers and other insolvent debtors, many of
indolent and idle habits, taken out of the jails, who,
being set down in the woods, unqualified for clear-
ing land, and unable to endure the hardships of a
new settlement, perished in numbers, leaving many
helpless children unprovided for. The sight of their
miserable situation inspir'd the benevolent heart of
Mr. Whitefield with the idea of building an Orphan
House there, in which they might be supported and
educated. Returning northward, he preach'd up
this charity, and made large collections, for his
eloquence had a wonderful power over the hearts
and purses of his hearers, of which I myself was
an instance.
I did not disapprove of the design, but, as Georgia
was then destitute of materials and workmen, and
it was proposed to send them from Philadelphia at a
great expense, I thought it would have been better
to have built the house here, and brought the chil-
dren to it. This I advis'd ; but he was resolute in
his first project, rejected my counsel, and I there-
fore refus'd to contribute. I happened soon after to
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 269
attend one of his sermons, in the course of which I
perceived he intended to finish with a collection,
and I silently resolved he should get nothing from
me. I had in my pocket a handful of copper
money, three or four silver dollars, and five pistoles
in gold. As he proceeded I began to soften, and
concluded to give the coppers. Another stroke of
his oratory made me asham'd of that, and deter-
min'd me to give the silver ; and he finish'd so
admirably, that I empty 'd my pocket wholly into the
collector's dish, gold and all. At this sermon there
was also one of our club, who, being of my senti-
ments respecting the building in Georgia, and sus-
pecting a collection might be intended, had, by pre-
caution, emptied his pockets before he came from
home. Towards the conclusion of the discourse,
however, he felt a strong desire to give, and apply 'd
to a neighbour, who stood near him, to borrow
some money for the purpose. The application was
unfortunately [made] to perhaps the only man in the
company who had the firmness not to be affected by
the preacher. His answer was, '■'• At any other
time, Friend Hoptinson, J would lend to thee
freely ; hut not now, for thee seems to be out of
thy right senses."
Some of Mr. Whitefield's enemies affected to sup-
pose that he would apply these collections to his
own private emolument; but I, who was intimately
acquainted with him (being employed in printing
his Sermons and Journals, etc.), never had the least
23*
270 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
suspicion of his integrity, but am to this day de-
cidedly of opinion that he was in all his conduct a
perfectly //(?«^5^ man; and methinks my testimony
in his favour ought to have the more weight, as we
had no religious connection. He us'd, indeed,
sometimes to pray for my conversion, but never had
the satisfaction of believing that his prayers were
heard. Ours was a mere civil friendship, sincere
on both sides, and lasted to his death.
The following instance will show something of
the terms on wdiich we stood. Upon one of his
arrivals from England at Boston, he wrote to me
that he should come soon to Philadelphia, but knew
not where he could lodge when there, as he under-
stood his old friend and host, Mr. Benezet, was
removed to Germantown. My answer was, "You
know my house ; if you can make shift with its
scanty accommodations, 3'ou will be most heartily
welcome." He reply 'd, that if I made that kind
offer for Christ's sake, I should not miss of a reward.
And I returned, '■'■ Don't let me be mistaken; it was
not for Christ's sake, but for your sake." One of
our common acquaintance jocosely remark'd, that,
knowing it to be the custom of the saints, when
they received any favour, to shift the burden of
the obligation from off their own shoulders, and
place it in heaven, I had contriv'd to fix it on
earth.
The last time I saw Mr. Whitefield was in Lon-
don, when he consulted me about his Orphan House
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 2/1
concern, and his purpose of appropriating it to the
establishment of a college.
He had a loud and clear voice, and articulated his
words and sentences so perfectly, that he might be
heard and understood at a great distance, especially as
his auditories, however numerous, observ'd the most
exact silence. He preach'd one evening from the top
of the Court-house steps, which are in the middle of
Market-street, and on the west side of Second-street,
which crosses it at right angles. Both streets were
fill'd with his hearers to a considerable distance.
Being among the hindmost in Market-street, I had
the curiosity to learn how far he could be heard, by re
tiring backwards down the street towards the river ;
and I found his voice distinct till I came near Front-
street, when some noise in that street obscur'd it.
Imagining then a semicircle, of which my distance
should be the radius, and that it were fill'd with
auditors, to each of whom I allow'd two square feet,
I computed that he might well be heard by more
than thirty thousand. This reconcil'd me to the
newspaper accounts of his having preach'd to
twenty-five thousand people in the fields, and to
the antient histories of generals haranguing whole
armies, of which I had sometimes doubted.
By hearing him often, I came to distinguish easily
between sermons newly compos'd, and those which
he had often preach'd in the course of his travels.
His delivery of the latter was so improv'd by fre-
quent repetitions that every accent, every emphasis,
272 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
every modulation of voice, was so perfectly well
turn'd and well plac'd, that, without being interested
in the subject, one could not help being pleas'd
with the discourse ; a pleasure of much the same
kind with that receiv'd from an excellent piece of
musick. This is an advantage itinerant preachers
have over those who are stationary, as the latter
can not well improve their delivery of a sermon by
so many rehearsals.
His writing and printing from time to time gave
great advantage to his enemies ; unguarded expres-
sions, and even erroneous opinions, delivered in
preaching, might have been afterwards explain'd or
qualifi'd by supposing others that might have ac-
compani'd them, or they might have been deny'd ;
but litera serif ta manet. Critics attack'd his writ-
ings violently, and with so much appearance of
reason as to diminish the number of his votaries and
prevent their encrease ; so that I am of opinion if
he had never written any thing, he would have left
behind him a much more numerous and important
sect, and his reputation might in that case have been
still growing, even after his death, as there being
nothing of his writing on which to found a censure
and give him a lower character, his proselytes would
be left at liberty to feign for him as great a variety
of excellences as their enthusiastic admiration might
wish him to have possessed.
My business was now continually augmenting,
and my circumstances growing daily easier, my
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. ' 2/3
newspaper having become very profitable, as being
for a time almost the only one in this and the neigh-
bouring provinces. I experienced, too, the truth of
the observation, " that after getting the first hun-
dred found, it is 7nore easy to get the second^
money itself being of a prolific nature.
The partnership at CaroHna having succeeded. I
was encourag'd to engage in others, and to promote
several of my workmen, who had behaved well, by
establishing them with printing-houses in different
colonies, on the same terms with that in Carolina.
Most of them did well, being enabled at the end of
our term, six years, to purchase the types of me and
go on working for themselves, by which means
several families were raised. Partnerships often
finish in quarrels ; but I was happy in this, that
mine were all carried on and ended amicably,
owing, I think, a good deal to the precaution of
having very explicitly settled, in our articles, every
thing to be done by or expected from each partner,
so that there was nothing to dispute, which precau-
tion I would therefore recommend to all who enter
into partnerships ; for, whatever esteem partners-
may have for, and confidence in each other at the
time of the contract, little jealousies and disgusts
may arise, with ideas of inequality in the care and
burden of the business, etc., which are attended
often with breach of friendship and of the connec-
tion, perhaps with lawsuits and other disagreeable
consequences.
M*
274 ' AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
I had, on the whole, abundant reason to be satis-
fied with my being estabhshed in Pennsylvania.
There were, however, two things that I regretted,
there being no provision for defense, nor for a com-
pleat education of youth ; no militia, nor any col-
lege. I therefore, in 1743, drew up a proposal for
establishing an academy ; and at that time, thinking
the Reverend Mr. Peters, who was out of employ,
a fit person to superintend such an institution, I
communicated the project to him ; but he, having
more profitable views in the service of the propri-
etaries, which succeeded, declin'd the undertaking ;
and, not knowing another at that time suitable for
such a trust, I let the scheme lie a while dormant.
I succeeded better the next year, 1744, i^ proposing
and establishing a Philosophical Society. The
paper I wrote for that purpose will be found among
my writings, when collected.*
* The paper here referred to will be found in the 4th vol. of Sparks'
Works of Franklin, p. 14. It bears date the 14th of May, 1743, Old
Style. It is entitled, " A proposal for promoting useful knowledge
among the British Plantations in America." It commences by speaking
of the great extent of the colonial possessions, " having different cli-
mates and different soils, producing different plants, mines, and mine-
rals, and capable of different improvements, manufactures," etc.
It then says : " The first drudgery of settling new colonies, which
confines the attention of people to mere necessaries, is now pretty well
over ; and there are many in every province in circumstances that set
them at ease, and afford leisure to cultivate the finer arts, and improve
the common stock of knowledge. To such of these who are men of
speculation, many hints must from time to time arise, many observations
occur, which if well examined, pursued, and improved, might produce
discoveries to the advantage of some or all of the British Plantations, or
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 275
With respect to defense, Spain having been sev-
eral years at war against Great Britain, and being
to the benefit of mankind in general But as, from the extent of
the country, such persons are widely separated, and seldom can see and
converse or be acquainted with each other, so that many useful particu-
lars remain uncommunicated, die with the discoverers, and are lost to
mankind ; it is to remedy this inconvenience for the future, proposed —
" That one society be formed of virtuosi, or ingenious men, residing
in the several colonies, to be called The American Philosophical So-
ciety, who are to maintain constant correspondence.
" That Philadelphia, being the city nearest to the centre of the con-
tinent colonies, communicating with all of them northward and south-
ward by post, and with all the islands by sea, and having the advantage
of a good growing library, be the centre of the Society.
" That at Philadelphia there be always at least seven members, viz.
a physician, a botanist, a mathematician, a chemist, a mechanician, a
geographer, and a general natural philosopher, besides a president, trea-
surer, and secretary.
" That these members meet once a month, or oftener, at their own
expense, to communicate to each other their observations and experi-
ments ; to receive, read, and consider such letters, communications, or
queries as shall be sent from distant members ; to direct the dispersing
of the copies of such communications as are valuable, to other distant
members, in order to procure their sentiments thereupon."
Then follows an enumeration, made with some detail, of the subjects
on which it was proposed that the Society should be occupied : includ-
mg investigations in botany ; in medicine ; in mineralogy and mining ;
ni mathematics ; in chemistry ; in mechanics ; in arts, trades, and
manufactures ; in geography and topography ; in agriculture ; and " all
philosophical experiments that let light into the nature of things, tend
to increase the power of man over matter, and multiply the conveniences
or pleasures of life."
The circular proposes that " a correspondence be kept up with the
Royal Society of London, and the Dublin Society ; that abstracts of
the communications be sent quarterly to all the members ; and that,
at the end of every year, collections be made and printed of such expe-
riments, discoveries, and improvements, as may be thought of public
advantage."
The duties of the secretary are particularly laid down, and they are
2/6 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
at length join'd by France, which brought us into
great danger ; and the laboured and long-continued
very arduous; requiring that he attend to all the correspondence,
" abstract, correct, and methodize such papers as require it, and as
he shall be directed to do by the president, after they have been con-
sidered, debated, and digested in the Society ; to enter copies thereof
in the Society's books, and make out copies for distant members."
And after enumerating these difficult duties, the circular closes by
saying :
" Benjamin Franklin, the WTiter of this proposal, offers himself to
serve the Society as their secretary, till they shall be provided with
one more capable."
In this projet will be found all the leading features of the present
American Philosophical Society. There can be no doubt that from the
day when it was proposed the necessary measures for carrying it into
execution were taken. Dr. Thomas Bond (himself one of the original
members), in an oration delivered before the Society in 1782, says: —
"Franklin gradually established many necessary institutions, among
which was this Philosophical Society, so early as 1743, when the plan
was formed and published, the members chosen, and an invitation given
to all ingenious persons to co-operate and correspond with them on the
laudable occasion." It is true that Franklin, in his Autobiography, gives
the date 1744, saying, "in that year I succeeded in proposing and
establishing a Philosophical Society. The paper I wrote for that pur-
pose will be found among my writings, if not lost with many others."
But Franklin wrote from memory, and the date of the paper referred to,
which was doubtless the proposal of 1743, shows that he had made a
mistake in the year.
In a letter to Cadwallader Golden, dated New York, 5th April, 1744,
Dr. Franklin acquaints him "that the Society, as far as relates to Phi-
ladelphia, was actually formed, and had had several meetings to mutual
satisfaction."
In this letter the follovnng list is presented of the original members :
Dr. Thomas Bond, as Physician.
Mr. John Bartram. as Botanist
Mr. Thomas Godfrey, as Mathematician.
Mr. Samuel Rhoads, as Mechanician.
Mr. William Parsons, as Geographer.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 2//
endeavour' of our governor, Thomas, to prevail with
our Quaker Assembly to pass a militia law, and
make other provisions for the security of the pro-
vince, having proved abortive, I determined to try
what might be done by a voluntary association of
the people. To promote this, I first wrote and pub-
lished a pamphlet, entitled Plain Truth, in which
I stated our defenceless situation in strong lights,
with the necessity of union and discipline for our
defense, and promis'd to propose in a few days an
association, to be generally signed for that purpose.
The pamphlet had a sudden and surprising effect.
I was call'd upon for the instrument of association,
and having settled the draft of it with a few friends, I
appointed a meeting of the citizens in the large build-
ing before mentioned. The house was pretty full ; I
had prepared a number of printed copies, and pro-
vided pens and ink dispers'd all over the room. I
Dr. Phineas Bond, as General Natural Philosopher.
Mr. Thomas Hopkinson, President.
Mr. William Coleman, Treasurer.
Benjamin Franklin, Secretary.
Though the American Philosophical Society was not, strictly speak-
ing, the organic continuation of the Junto, there can be no doubt that
the plan of establishing it had been often brought before the Junto for
consideration, for we know that it was the practice of Franklin, when
he had new projects to propose, to have them first discussed in the
Club. But a stronger evidence still of the part which they took in form-
ing the new institution is presented by the fact that of the nine original
members of the Philosophical Society, six, including the three officers,
are known to have belonged to the Junto, — namely, Franklin, Hopkin-
son, Coleman, Godfrey, Rhoads, and Parsons. — Ya>.
24
2/8 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
harangued them a little on the subject", read the
paper, and explained it, and then distributed the
copies, which were eagerly signed, not the least
objection being made.
When the company separated, and the papers
were collected, we found above twelve hundred
hands ; and, other copies being dispersed in the
country, the subscribers amounted at length to up-
ward of ten thousand. These all furnished them-
selves as soon as they could with arms, formed
themselves into companies and regiments, chose
their own officers, and met every week to be in-
structed in the manual exercise, and other parts of
military discipline. The women, by subscriptions
among themselves, provided silk colors, which they
presented to the companies, painted with different
devices and mottos, which I supplied.
The officers of the companies composing the
Philadelphia regiment, being met, chose me for
their colonel ; but, conceiving myself unfit, I de-
clin'd that station, and recommended Mr. Lawrence,
a fine person, and man of influence, who was ac-
cordingly appointed. I then propos'd a lottery to
defray the expense of building a battery below the
town, and furnishing it with cannon. It filled ex-
peditiously, and the battery was soon erected, the
merlons being fram'd of logs and fill'd with earth.
We bought some old cannon from Boston, but, these
not being sufficient, we wrote to England for more,
soliciting, at the same time, our proprietaries for
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 279
some assistance, tho' without much expectation of
obtaining it.
Meanwhile, Colonel Lawrence, William Allen,
Abram Taylor, Esqr., and myself were sent to
New York by the associators, commission'd to bor-
row some cannon of Governor Clinton. He at first
refus'd us peremptorily ; but at dinner with his coun-
cil, where there was great drinking of Madeira wine,
as the custom of that place then was, he softened by
degrees, and said he would lend us six. After a
few more bumpers he advanc'd to ten ; and at length
he very good-naturedly conceded eighteen. They
were fine cannon, eighteen-pounders, with their car-
riages, which we soon transported and mounted
on our battery, where the associators kept a nightly
guard while the war lasted, and among the rest I
regularly took my turn of duty there as a common
soldier.
My activity in these operations was agreeable to
the governor and council ; they took me into con-
fidence, and I was consulted by them in every mea-
sure wherein their concurrence was thought useful
to the association. Calling in the aid of religion, 1
propos'd to them the proclaiming a fast, to promote
reformation, and implore the blessing of Heaven on
our undertaking. They embrac'd the motion ; but,
as it was the first fast ever thought of in the province,
the secretary had no precedent from which to draw
the proclamation. My education in New England,
where a fast is proclaimed every year, was here of
28o AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
some advantage : I drew it in the accustomed stile ,
it was translated into German, printed in both lan-
guages, and divulg'd thro' the province. This gave
the clergy of the different sects an opportunity of
influencing their congregations to join in the asso-
ciation, and it would probably have been general
among all but Quakers if the peace had not soon
interven'd.
It was thought by some of my friends that, by
my activity in these affairs, I should offend that sect,
and thereby lose my interest in the Assembly of
the province, where they formed a great majority.
A young gentleman who had likewise some friends
in the House, and wished to succeed me as their
clerk, acquainted me that it was decided to displace
me at the next election ; and he, therefore, in good
will, advis'd me to resign, as more consistent with
my honour than being turn'd out. My answer to
him was, that I had read or heard of some public
man who made it a rule never to ask for an oflice,
and never to refuse one when offer'd to him. " I
approve," says I, "of his rule, and will practice it
with a small addition ; I shall never ask, never
refuse, nor ever resign an office. If they will have
my office of clerk to dispose of to another, they
shall take it from me. I will not, by giving it up,
lose my right of some time or other making reprisals
on my adversaries." I heard, however, no more of
this ; I was chosen again unanimously as usual at
the next election. Possibly, as they dislik'd my
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 28 1
late intimacy with the members of council, who
had join'd the governors in all the disputes about
military preparations, with which the House had
long been harass'd, they might have been pleas'd
if I would voluntarily have left them ; but they did
not care to displace me on account merely of my
zeal for the association, and they could not well
give another reason.
Indeed I had some cause to believe that the de-
fense of the country was not disagreeable to any of
them, provided they were not requir'd to assist in
it. And I found that a much greater number
of them than I could have imagined, tho' against
offensive war, were clearly for the defensive. Many
pamphlets -pro and con were publish'd on the sub-
ject, and some by good Quakers, in favour of de-
fense, which I believe convinc'd most of their
younger people.
A transaction in our fire company gave me some
insight into their prevailing sentiments. It had been
propos'd that we should encourage the scheme for
building a battery by laying out the present stock,
then about sixty pounds, in tickets of the lottery.
By our rules, no money could be dispos'd of till the
next meeting after the proposal. The company
consisted of thirty members, of which twenty-two
were Quakers, and eight only of other persuasions.
We eight punctually attended the meeting ; but,
tho' we thought that some of the Quakers would
join us, we were by no means sure of a majority.
24*
282 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
Only one Quaker, Mr. James Morris, appear'd to
oppose the measure. He expressed much sorrow
that it had ever been propos'd, as he said Friends
were all against it, and it would create such discord
as might.break up the company. We told him that
we saw no reason for that ; we were the minority,
and if Friends were against the measure, and out-
voted us, we must and should, agreeably to the
usage of all societies, submit. When the hour for
business arriv'd it was mov'd to put the vote ; he
allow'd we might then do it by the rules, but, as he
could assure us that a number of members intended
to be present for the purpose of opposing it, it
would be but candid to allow a little time for their
appearing.
While we were disputing this, a waiter came to
tell me two gentlemen below desir'd to speak with
me. I went down, and found they were two of our
Quaker members. Thc^ told me there were eight
of them assembled at a tavern just by ; that they
were determin'd to come and vote with us if there
should be occasion, which they hop'd would not
be the case, and desir'd we would not call for their
assistance if we could do without it, as their voting
for such a measure might embroil them with their
elders and friends. Being thus secure of a ma-
jority, I went up, and after a little seeming hesita-
tion, agreed to a delay of another hour. This Mr.
Morris allow'd to be extreamly fair. Not one of his
opposing friends appear'd, at which he express'd
v."
'<z/My
(From a painting in possession of the Loganian Library.)
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 283
great surprize ; and, at the expiration of the hour,
we carry'd the resolution eight to one ; and as, of
the twenty-two Quakers, eight were ready to vote
with us, and thirteen, by their absence, manifested
that they were not indin'd to oppose the measure,
I afterward estimated the proportion of Quakers
sincerely against defense as one to twenty-one only ;
for these were all regular members of that society,
and in good reputation among them, and had due
notice of what was propos'd at that meeting.
The honorable and learned Mr. Logan, who had
always been of that sect, was one who wrote an
address to them, declaring his approbation of defen-
sive war, and supporting his opinion by many strong
arguments. He put into my hands sixty pounds to
be laid out in lottery tickets for the battery, with
directions to apply what prizes might be drawn
wholly to that service. He told me the following
anecdote of his old master, William Penn, respect-
ing defense. He came over from England, when a
young man, with that proprietary, and as his secre-
tary. It was war-time, and their ship was chas'd by
an armed vessel, suppos'd to be an enemy. Their
captain prepar'd for defense ; but told William Penn,
and his company of Quakers, that he did not expect
their assistance, and they might retire into the cabin,
which they did, except James Logan, who chose to
stay upon deck, and was quarter'd to a gun. The
suppos'd enemy prov'd a friend, so there was no
fighting ; but when the secretary went down to r
284 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
municate the intelligence, William Penn rebuk'd
him severely for staying upon deck, and undertak-
ing to assist in defending the vessel, contrary to the
principles of 1^7'tends, especially as it had not been
required by the captain. This reproof, being before
all the company, piqu'dthe secretary, who answer'd,
" / being thy servant, why did thee not order me
to come down f But thee was willing enough that
I should stay and help to fight the ship when thee
thought there was danger.''^
My being many j-ears in the Assembly, the ma-
jority of which were constantly Quakers, gave me
frequent opportunities of seeing the embarrassment
given them by their principle against war, when-
ever application was made to them, by order of the
crown, to grant aids for militar}^ purposes. They
were unwilling to offend government, on the one
hand, by a direct refusal ; and their friends, the
body of the Quakers, on the other, by a compliance
contrary to their principles ; hence a variety of eva-
sions to avoid complying, and modes of disguising
the compliance when it became unavoidable. The
common mode at last was, to grant money under
the phrase of its being '■'-for the king's use" and
never to inquire how it was applied.
But, if the demand was not directly from the
crown, that phrase was found not so proper, and
some other was to be invented. As, when powder
was wanting (I think it was for the garrison at
'sburg), and the government of New England
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 285
solicited a grant of some from Pennsilvania, which
was much urg'd on the House by Governor Thomas,
they could not grant money to buy powder, because
that was an ingredient of war ; but they voted an
aid to New England of three thousand pounds, to
be put into the hands of the governor, and appro-
priated it for the purchasing of bread, flour, wheat,
ov other grain. Some of the council, desirous of
giving the House still further embarrassment, ad-
vis'd the governor not to accept provision, as not
being the thing he had demanded; but he reply'd,
" I shall take the money, for I understand very well
their meaning ; other grain is gunpowder," which
he accordingly bought, and they never objected
to it.*
It was in allusion to this fact that, when in our
tire company we feared the success of our proposal
in favour of the lottery, and I had said to my friend
Mr. Syng, one of our members, " If we fail, let us
move the purchase of a fire-engine with the money ;
the Quakers can have no objection to that: and
then, if you nominate me and I you as a committee
for that purpose, we will buy a great gun, which is
certainly a ^fre-^w^/w 5." "I see," says he, "you
have improv'd by being so long in the Assembly ;
your equivocal project would be just a match for
their wheat or other grain. ^'
These embarrassments that the Quakers sufFer'd
* See the votes. — \Marg. note.\
286 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
from having establish'd and published it as one of
their principles that no kind of war was lawful, and
which, being once published, they could not after-
wards, however they might change their minds,
easily get rid of, reminds me of what I think a more
prudent conduct in another sect among us, that of
the Dunkers. I was acquainted with one of its
founders, Michael Welfare, soon after it appear'd.
He complain'd to me that they w^ere grievously
calumniated by the zealots of other persuasions, and
charg'd with abominable principles and practices, to
which they were utter strangers. I told him this
had always been the case with new sects, and that,
to put a stop to such abuse, I imagin'd it might be
well to publish the articles of their belief, and the
rules of their discipline. He said that it had been
propos'd among them, but not agreed to, for this
reason: "When we were first drawn together as a
society," says he, " it had pleased God to enlighten
our minds so far as to see that some doctrines,
which we once esteemed truths, were errors ; and that
others, which we had esteemed errors, were real
truths. From time to time He has been pleased to
afford us farther light, and our principles have been
improving, and our errors diminishing. Now we
are not sure that we are arrived at the end of this
progression, and at the perfection of spiritual or
theological knowledge ; and we fear that, if we
should once print our confession of faith, we should
feel ourselves as if bound and confin'd by it, and
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 287
perhaps be unwilling to receive farther improve-
ment, and our successors still more so, as conceiv-
ing what we their elders and founders had done, to
be something sacred, never to be departed from."
This modesty in a sect is perhaps a singular in-
stance in the history of mankind, every other sect
supposing itself in possession of all truth, and that
those who differ are so far in the wrong ; like a man
traveling in foggy weather, those at some distance
before him on the road he sees wrapped up in the
fog, as well as those behind him, and also the people
in the fields on each side, but near him all appears
clear, tho' in truth he is as much in the fog as any
of them. To avoid this kind of embarrassment,
the Quakers have of late years been gradually de-
clining the public service in the Assembly and in
the magistracy, choosing rather to quit their power
than their principle.
In order of time, I should have mentioned before,
that having, in 1742, invented an open stove for the
better warming of rooms, and at the same time sav-
ing fuel, as the fresh air admitted was warmed in
entering, I made a present of the model to Mr.
Robert Grace, one of my early friends, who, having
an iron-furnace, found the casting of the plates for
these stoves a profitable thing, as they were grow-
ing in demand. To promote that demand, I wrote
and published a pamphlet, entitled "^« Account
of the new-invented Pennsylvania Fire-places;
•wherein their Construction and Manner of Op'cra-
288 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
tion is particularly explained ; their Advantages
above every other Method of warming Hooms de-
monstrated; and all Objections that have been
raised against the Use of them answered and ob-
viated^'' etc. This pamphlet had a good effect.
Gov'r. Thomas was so pleas'd with the construction
of this stove, as described in it, that he offered to
give me a patent for the sole vending of them for a
term of years ; but I declin'd it from a principle
which has ever weighed with me on such occasions,
viz., That, as we enjoy great advantages from the
inventions of others, we should be glad of an op-
■portunity to serve others by any invention of ours;
and this we should do freely and generously.
An ironmonger in London however, assuming a
good deal of my pamphlet, and working it up into
his own, and making some small changes in the
machine, which rather hurt its operation, got a
patent for it there, and made, as I was told, a little
fortune by it. And this is not the only instance of
patents taken out for my inventions by others, tho'
not always with the same success, which I never
contested, as having no desire of profiting by patents
myself, and hating disputes. The use of these fire-
places in very many houses, both of this and the
neighboring colonies, has been, and is, a great
saving of wood to the inhabitants.
Peace being concluded, and the association busi-
ness therefore at an end, I turn'd my thoughts again
to the affair of establishing an academy. The firet
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 289
step I took was to associate in the design a number
of active friends, of whom the Junto furnished <x good
part ; the next was to write and publish a pamphlet,
entitled Proposals relating to the Education of
Touth in Pennsylvania. This I distributed among
the principal inhabitants gratis ; and as soon as I
could suppose their minds a little prepared by the
perusal of it, I set on foot a subscription for opening
and supporting an academy : it was to be paid in
quotas yearly for five years ; by so dividing it, I
judg'd the subscription might be larger, and I be-
lieve it was so, amounting to no less, if I remember
right, than five thousand pounds.
In the introduction to these proposals, I stated
their publication, not as an act of mine, but of some
■publick-sfiritcd gentle7nen, avoiding as much as I
could, according to my usual rule, the presenting
myself to the publick as the author of any scheme
for their benefit.
The subscribers, to carry the project into imme-
diate execution, chose out of their number twenty-
four trustees, and appointed Mr. Francis, then at-
torney-general, and myself to draw up constitutions
for the government of the academy ; which being
done and signed, a house was hired, masters en-
gag'd, and the schools opened, I think, in the same
year, 1749.
The scholars increasing fast, the house was soon
found too small, and we were looking out for a piece
of ground, properly situated, with intention to build,
jf 25
290 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
when Providence threw into our way a large house
ready built, which, with a few alterations, might
well serve our purpose. This was the building l)e-
fore mentioned, erected by the hearers of Mr. White-
field, and was obtained for us in the following
manner.
It is to be noted that the contributions to this
building being made by people of different sects,
care was taken in the nomination of trustees, in
whom the building and ground was to be vested,
that a predominancy should not be given to any
sect, lest in time that predominancy might be a
means of appropriating the whole to the use of such
sect, contrary to the original intention. It was there-
fore that one of each sect was appointed, viz., one
Church-of-England man, one Presbyterian, one
Baptist, one Moravian, etc., those, in case of va-
cancy by death, were to fill it by election from
among the contributors. The Moravian happen'd
not to please his colleagues, and on his death they
resolved to have no other of that sect. The diffi-
culty then was, how to avoid having two of some
other sect, by means of the new choice.
Several persons were named, and for that reason
not agreed to. At length one mention'd me, with
the observation that I was merely an honest man,
and of no sect at all, which prevail'd with them to
chuse me. The enthusiasm which existed when
the house was built had long since abated, and its
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 29 1
trustees had not been able to procure fresh contri-
butions lor paying the ground-rent, and discharging
some other debts the building had occasion'd, which
embarrass'd them greatly. Being now a member
of both setts of trustees, that for the building and
that for the academy, I had a good opportunity of
negotiating with both, and brought them finally to
an agreement, by which the trustees for the building
were to cede it to those of the academy, the latter
undertaking to discharge the debt, to keep for ever
open in the building a large hall for occasional
preachers, according to the original intention, and
maintain a free-school for the instruction of poor
children. Writings were accordingly drawn, and
on paying the debts the trustees of the academy
were put in possession of the premises ; and by di-
viding the great and lofty hall into stories, and dif-
ferent rooms above and below for the several schools,
and purchasing some additional ground, the whole
was soon made fit for our purpose, and the scholars
remov'd into the building. The care and trouble
^ii agreeing with the workmen, purchasing materials,
and superintending the work, fell upon me ; and I
went thro' it the more cheerfully, as it did not then
interfere with my private business, having the year
before taken a very able, industrious, and honest
partner, Mr. David Hall, with whose character I
was well acquainted, as he had work'd for me four
years. He took off my hands all care of the print-
ing-office, paying me punctually my share of the
292 AUTOBIOGRAPHT OF
profits. This partnership continued eighteen years,
successfully for us both.
The trustees of the academy, after a while, were
incorporated by a charter from the governor ; their
funds were increas'd by contributions in Britain and
grants of land from the proprietaries, to w^hich the
Assembly has since made considerable addition ;
and thus was established the present University of
Philadelphia, I have been continued one of its
trustees from the beginning, now near forty years,
and have had the very great pleasure of seeing a
number of the youth who have receiv'd their educa-
tion in it, distinguish'd by their improv'd abilities,
serviceable in public stations, and ornaments to their
country.*
When I disengaged myself, as above mentioned,
from private business, I flatter'd myself that, by the
sufficient tho' moderate fortune I had acquir'd, I had
secured leisure during the rest of my life for philo-
sophical studies and amusements. I purchased all
Dr. Spence's apparatus, who had come from Eng
land to lecture here, and I proceeded in my elec
trical experiments with great alacrity ; but the pub
lick, now considering me as a man of leisure, laid
hold of me for their purposes, every part of our
* The old "Academy," as the building of which Franklin speaks was)
called, has given place to a new and tasteful edifice. For many years
the new building had been occupied as an academy, preparatory to the
University, commodious buildings for which were erected in South
Ninth street, near Chestnut. — Ed.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 293
civil government, and almost at the same time, im-
posing some duty upon me. The governor put me
into the commission of the peace ; the corpora-
tion of the city chose me of the common council,
and soon after an alderman ; and the citizens at
large chose me a burgess to represent them in
Assembly. This latter station was the more agree-
able to me, as I was at length tired with sitting there
to hear debates, in which, as clerk, I could take no
part, and which were often so unentertaining that I
was induc'd to amuse myself with making magic
squares or circles, or any thing to avoid weariness ;
and I conceiv'd my becoming a member would
enlarge my power of doing good. I would not,
however, insinuate that my ambition was not flatter'd
by all these promotions ; it certainly was ; for, con-
sidering my low beginning, they were great things
to me ; and they were still more pleasing, as being
so many spontaneous testimonies of the public good
opinion, and by me entirely unsolicited.
The office of justice of the peace I try'd a little,
by attending a few courts, and sitting on the bench
to hear causes ; but finding that more knowledge of
the common law than I possess'd was necessary to
act in that station with credit, I gradually witlidrew
from it, excusing myself by my being oblig'd to
attend the higher duties of a legislator in the As-
sembly. My election to this trust was repeated
every year for ten years, without my ever asking
any elector for his vote, or signifying, either directly
25*
294 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
or indirectly, any desire of being chosen. On tak-
ing my seat in the House, my son was appointed
their clerk.
The year following, a treaty being to be held with
the Indians at Carlisle, the governor sent a message
to the House, proposing that they should nominate
some of their members, to be join'd with some
members of council, as commissioners for that pur-
pose.* The House named the speaker (Mr. Nor-
ris) and myself; and, being commission'd, we went
to Carlisle, and met the Indians accordingly.
As those people are extreamly apt to get drunk,
and, when so, are very quarrelsome and disorderly,
we strictly forbad the selling any liquor to them ;
and when they complain'd of this restriction, we
told them that if they would continue sober during
the treaty, we would give them plenty of rum when
business was over. They promis'd this, and they
kept their promise, because they could get no liquor,
and the treaty was conducted very orderly, and con-
cluded to mutual satisfaction. They then claim'd
and receiv'd the rum ; this was in the afternoon :
they were near one hundred men, women, and chil-
dren, and were lodg'd in temporary cabins, built in
the form of a square, just without the town. In the
evening, hearing a great noise among them, the
commissioners walk'd out to see what was the
matter. We found they had made a great bonhre
* See ihe votes to have this more correctly. — [Mai-g. uoit:]
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 295
in the middle of the square ; they were all drunk,
men and women, quarreling and fighting. Their
dark-colour'd bodies, half naked, seen only by the
gloomy light of the bonfire, running after and beat-
ing one another with firebrands, accompanied by
their horrid yellings, form'd a scene the most resem-
bling our ideas of hell that could well be imagin'd ;
there was no appeasing the tumult, and we retired
to our lodging. At midnight a number of them
came thundering at our door, demanding more rum,
of which we took no notice.
The next day, sensible they had misbehav'd in
giving us that disturbance, they sent three of their
old counselors to make their apology. The orator
acknowledg'd the fault, but laid it upon the rum ;
and then endeavored to excuse the rum by saying,
'''•The Great Spirit, who made all things, made
everything for some use, and whatever use he de-
signed any thing for, that use it should always be
put to. Nozv, when he made rum, he said, '■Let
this he for the Indians to get drunk with,' and it
must be so.'' And, indeed, if it be the design of
Providence to extirpate these savages in order to
make room for cultivators of the earth, it seems not
improbable that rum may be the appointed means.
It has already annihilated all the tribes who formerly
inhabited the sea-coast.
In 1751? Di*' Thomas Bond, a particular friend
of mine, conceived the idea of establishing a hos-
pital in Philadelphia (a very beneficent design,
296 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
which has been ascrib'd to me, but was originally
his), for the reception and cure of poor sick persons,
whether inhabitants of the province or strangers.
He was zealous and active in endeavouring to pro-
cure subscriptions for it, but the proposal being a
novelty in America, and at first not well understood,
he met but with small success.
At length he came to me with the compliment
that he found there was no such thing as carrying
a public-spirited project through without my being
concern'd in it. " For," says he, " I am often ask'd
by those to whom I propose subscribing. Have you
consulted Franklin upon this business? And what
does he think of it? And when I tell them that I
have not (supposing it rather out of your line), they
do not subscribe, but say they will consider of it."
I enquired into the nature and probable utility of his
scheme, and receiving from him a very satisfactory
explanation, I not only subscrib'd to it myself, but
engag'd heartily in the design of procuring sub-
scriptions from others. Previously, however, to the
solicitation, I endeavoured to prepare the minds of
the people by writing on the subject in the news-
papers, which was my usual custom in such cases,
but which he had omitted.
The subscriptions afterwards were more free and
generous ; but, beginning to flag, I saw they would
be insufficient without some assistance from the As-
sembly, and therefore propos'd to petition for it,
which was done. The country members did not at
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 2^/
first relish the project ; they objected that it could
only be serviceable to the city, and therefore the
citizens alone should be at the expense of it ; and
they doubted whether the citizens themselves gen-
erally approv'd of it. My allegation on the con-
trary, that it met with such approbation as to leave
no doubt of our being able to raise two thousand
pounds by voluntary donations, they considered as
a most extravagant supposition, and utterly impos-
sible.
On this I form'd my plan ; and, asking leave to
bring in a bill for incorporating the contributors ac-
cording to the prayer of their petition, and granting
them a blank sum of money, which leave was ob-
tained chiefly on the consideration that the House
could throw the bill out if they did not like it, I
drew it so as to make the important clause a condi-
tional one, viz., " And be it enacted, by the autho-
rity aforesaid, that when the said contributors shall
have met and chosen their managers and treasurer,
and shall have raised by their contributions a capi-
tal stock of value (the yearly interest of
which is to be applied to the accommodating of
the sick poor in the said hospital, free of charge
for diet, attendance, advice, and medicines), and
shall make the same a^^ear to the satisfaction
of the s-peaker of the Assembly for the time beings
that then it shall and may be lawful for the said
speaker, and he is hereby required, to sign an order
on the provincial treasurer for the payment of two
298 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
thousand pounds, in two yearly payments, to the
treasurer of the said hospital, to be applied to the
founding, building, and finishing of the same."
This condition carried the bill through ; for the
members, who had oppos'd the grant, and now con
ceiv'd they might have the credit of being charita-
ble without the expence, agreed to its passage ; and
then, in soliciting subscriptions among the people,
we urg'd the conditional promise of the law as an
additional motive to give, since every man's dona-
tion would be doubled ; thys the clause work'd both
ways. The subscriptions accordingly^ soon exceed-
ed the requisite sum, and we claim'd and receiv'd
the public gift, which enabled us to carry the design
into execution. A convenient and handsome build-
ing was soon erected ; the institution has by constant
experience been found useful, and flourishes to this
day ; and I do not remember any of my political
manoeuvres, the success of which gave me at the
time more pleasure, or wherein, after thinking of it,
I more easily excus'd myself for having made some
use of cunning.
It w^as about this time that another projector,
the Rev. Gilbert Tennent, came to me with a re-
quest that I would assist him in procuring a sub-
scription for erecting a new meeting-house. It was
to be for the use of a congregation he had gathered
among the Presbyterians, who were originally dis-
ciples of Mr. Whitefield. Unwilling to make my-
self disagreeable to my fellow-citizens by too fre-
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 299
quently soliciting their contributions, I absolutely
refus'd. He then desired I would furnish him with
a list of the names of persons I knew by experience
to be generous and public-spirited. I thought it
would be unbecoming in me, after their kind com-
pliance with my solicitations, to mark them out to
be worried by other beggars, and therefore refus'd
also to give such a list. He then desir'd I would
at least give him my advice. " That I will readily
do," said I ; " and, in the first place, I advise you to
apply to all those whom you know will give some-
thing ; next, to those whom you are uncertain
whether they will give any thing or not, and show
them the list of those who have given ; and, lastly,
do not neglect those who you are sure will give
nothing, for in some of them you may be mistaken."
He laugh'd and thank'd me, and said he would take
my advice. He did so, for he ask'd of everybody,
and he obtain'd a much larger sum than he expected,
with which he erected the capacious and very ele-
gant meeting-house that stands in Arch-street.
Our city, tho' laid out with a beautiful! regularity;
the streets large, strait, and crossing each othei
at right angles, had the disgrace of suffering those
streets to remain long unpav'd, and in wet weather
the wheels of heavy carriages plough'd them into a
quagmire, so that it was difficult to cross them ; and
in dry weather the dust was offensive. I had liv'd
near what was call'd the Jersey Market, and saw
with pain the inhabitants wading in mud while
300 AUTOBIOGRAPIir OF
purchasing their provisions. A strip of ground
down the middle of that market was at length pav'd
with brick, so that, being once in the market, they
had firm footing, but were often over shoes in dirt
to get there. By talking and writing on the subject,
I was at length instrumental in getting the street
pav'd with stone between the market and the brick'd
foot-pavement, that was on each side next the
houses. This, for some time, gave an easy access
to the market dry-shod ; but, the rest of the street
not being pav'd, whenever a carriage came out of
the mud upon this pavement, it shook off and left
its dirt upon it, and it was soon cover'd with mire,
which was not remov'd, the city as yet having no
scavengers.
After some inquiry, I found a poor, industrious
man, who was willing to undertake keeping the
pavement clean, by sweeping it twice a week, carry-
ing off the dirt from before all the neighbours' doors,
for the sum of sixpence per month, to be paid by
each house. I then wrote and printed a paper
setting forth the advantages to the neighbourhood
that might be obtain'd by this small expense ; the
greater ease in keeping our houses clean, so much
dirt not being brought in by people's feet ; the bene-
tit to the shops by more custom, etc., etc., as buyers
could more easily get at them ; and by not having,
in windy weather, the dust blown in upon their
goods, etc., etc. I sent one of these papers to each
house, and in a dav or two went round to see who
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 3OI
would subscribe an agreement to pay these six-
pences ; it was unanimously sign'd, and for a time
well executed. All the inhabitants of the city were
delighted with the cleanliness of the pavement that
surrounded the market, it being a convenience to
all, and this rais'd a general desire to have all the
streets paved, and made the people more willing to
submit to a tax for that purpose.
After some time I drew a bill for paving the city,
and brought it into the Assembly. It was just be-
fore I v^rent to England, in 1757, and did not pass
till I was gone,* and then with an alteration in the
mode of assessment, which I thought not for the
better, but with an additional provision for lighting
as well as paving the streets, which was a great im-
provement. It was by a private person, the late
Mr. John Clifton, his giving a sample of the utility
of lamps, by placing one at his door, that the people
were first impress'd with the idea of enlighting all the
city. The honour of this public benefit has also been
ascrib'd to me, but it belongs truly to that gentle-
man. I did but follow his example, and have only
some merit to claim respecting the form of our
lamps, as diflfering from the globe lamps we were
at first supply 'd with from London. Those we
found inconvenient in these respects : they admitted
no air below ; the smoke, therefore, did not readily
go out aoove, but circulated in the globe, lodg'd on
* .See votes.
26
302 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
its inside, and soon obstructed the light they were
intended to afford ; giving, besides, the daily trouble
of wiping them clean ; and an accidental stroke on
one of them would demolish it, and render it totally
useless. I therefore suggested the composing them
of four flat panes, with a long funnel above to draw
up the smoke, and crevices admitting air below, to
facilitate the ascent of the smoke ; by this means
they were kept clean, and did not grow dark in a
few hours, as the London lamps do, but continued
bright till morning, and an accidental stroke would
generally break but a single pane, easily repair'd.
I have sometimes wonder'd that the Londoners
did not, from the effect holes in the bottom of the
globe lamps us'd at Vauxhall have in keeping them
clean, learn to have such holes in their street lamps.
But, these holes being made for another purpose,
viz., to communicate flame more suddenly to the
wick by a little flax hanging down thro' them, the
other use, of letting in air, seems not to have been
thought of; and therefore, after the lamps have been
lit a few hours, the streets of London are very
poorly illuminated.
The mention of these improvements puts me in
mind of one 1 propos'd, when in London, to Dr.
Fotheririll who was amongr the best men I have
known, and a great promoter of useful projects. I
had observ'd that the streets, when dry, were never
swept, and the light dust carried away ; but it was
suffer'd to accumulate till wet weather reduc'd it to
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 303
mud, and then, after lying some days so deep on
the pavement that there was no crossing but in paths
kept clean by poor people with brooms, it was with
great labour rak'd together and thrown up into carts
open above, the sides of which suffer'd some of the
slush at every jolt on the pavement to shake out
and fall, sometimes to the annoyance of foot-pas-
sengers. The reason given for not sweeping the
dusty streets was, that the dust would fly into the
windows of shops and houses.
An accidental occurrence had instructed me how
much sweeping might be done in a litde time. I
found at my door in Craven-street, one morning, a
poor woman sweeping my pavement with a birch
broom ; she appeared very pale and feeble, as just
come out of a fit of sickness. I ask'd who employ'd
her to sweep there ; she said, " Nobody ; but I am
very poor and in distress, and I sweeps before gen-
tlefolkses doors, and hopes they will give me some-
thing." I bid her sweep the whole street clean, and
I would give her a shilling ; this was at nine o'clock j
at 12 she came for the shiUing. Fi'om the slow-
ness I saw at first in her working, I could scarce
believe th^t the work was done so soon, and sent
my servant to examine it, who reported that the
whole street was swept perfectly clean, and all the
dust plac'd in the gutter, which was in the middle ;
and the next rain wash'd it quite away, so that the
pavement and even the kennel were perfectly
clean.
304 AUTOBIOGRAPHT OF
I then judg'd that, if that feeble woman could
sweep such a street in three hours, a strong, active
man might have done it in half the time. And heie
let me remark the convenience of having but one
gutter in such a narrow street, running down its
middle, instead of two, one on each side, near the
footway ; for where all the rain that falls on a street
runs from the sides and meets in the middle, it forms
there a current strong enough to wash away all the
mud it meets with ; but when divided into two chan-
nels, it is often too weak to cleanse either, and only
makes the mud it finds more fluid, so that the
wheels of carriages and feet of horses throw and
dash it upon the foot-pavement, which is thereby
rendered foul and slippery, and sometimes splash it
upon those who are walking. My proposal, com-
municated to the good doctor, was as follows :
"For the more effectual cleaning and keeping
clean the streets of London and Westminster, it is
proposed that the several watchmen be contracted
with to have the dust swept up in dry seasons, and
the mud rak'd up at other times, each in the several
streets and lanes of his round ; that they be furnish'd
with brooms and other proper instruments for these
purposes, to be kept at their respective stands, ready
to furnish the poor people they may employ in the
service.
" That in the dry summer months the dust be all
swept up into heaps at proper distances, before the
shops and windows of houses are usual!}' opened.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 305
when the scavengers, with close-covered carts, shah
also carry it all away.
" That the mud, when rak'd up, be not left in
heaps to be spread abroad again by the wheels of
carriages and trampling of horses, but that the scav-
engers be provided with bodies of carts, not plac'd
high upon wheels, but low upon sliders, with lattice
bottoms, which, being cover'd with straw, will re-
tain the mud thrown into them, and permit the
water to drain from it, whereby it will become much
Hghter, water making the greatest part of its weight ;
these bodies of carts to be plac'd at convenient
distances, and the mud brought to them in wheel-
barrows ; they remaining where plac'd till the mud
is drain'd, and then horses brought to draw them
away."
I have since had doubts of the practicabilit}'- of
the latter part of this proposal, on account of the
narrowness of some streets, and the difficulty of
placing the draining-sleds so as not to encumber too
much the passage ; but I am still of opinion that
the former, requiring the dust to be swept up and
carry'd away before the shops are open, is very
practicable in the summer, when the days are long ;
for, in walking thro' the Strand and Fleet-street one
morning at seven o'clock, I observ'd there was not
one shop open, tho' it had been daylight and the
sun up above three hours ; the inhabitants of London
chusing voluntarily to live much by candle-light,
and sleep by sunshine, and yet often complain, a
26*
306 AUTOBIOGRAPHT OF
Httl'^ absurdly, of the duty on candles, and the high
price of tallow.
Some may think these trifling matters not worth
minding or relating ; but when they consider that
tho' dust blown into the eyes of a single person,
or into a single shop on a windy day, is but of small
importance, yet the great number of the instances
in a populous city, and its frequent repetitions give it
weight and consequence, perhaps they will not cen-
sure very severely those who bestow some attention
to affairs of this seemingly low nature. Human
felicity is produc'd not so much by great pieces of
good fortune that seldom happen, as by little advan-
tages that occur every day. Thus, if you teach a
poor young man to shave himself, and keep his
razor in order, you may contribute more to the hap-
piness of his life than in giving him a thousand
guineas. The money may be soon spent, the regret
only remaining of having foolishly consumed it ;
but in the other case, he escapes the frequent vexa-
tion of waiting for barbers, and of their sometimes
dirty fingers, offensive breaths, and dull razors ; he
shaves when most convenient to him, and enjoys
daily the pleasure of its being done with a good
instrument. With these sentiments I have hazarded
the few preceding pages, hoping they may afford
hints which some time or other may be useful to a
city I love, having lived many years in it very
happily, and perhaps to some of our towns in
America.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 30/
Having been for some time employed by the post-
master-general of America as his comptroller in
regulating several offices, and bringing the officers
to account, I was, upon his death in 1753, appointed,
jointly with Mr. William Hunter, to succeed him,
by a commission from the postmaster-general in
Enirland. The American office never had hitherto
paid any thing to that of Britain. We were to have
six hundred pounds a year between us, if we could
make that sum out of the profits of the office. To
do this, a variety of improvements were necessary ;
some of these were inevitably at first expensive, so
that in the first four years the office became above
nine hundred pounds in debt to us. But it soon
after began to repay us ; and before I was displac'd
by a freak of the ministers, of which I shall speak
hereafter, we had brought it to yield three times as
much clear revenue to the crown as the postoffice
of Ireland. Since that imprudent transaction, they
have receiv'd from it — not one farthing !
The business of the postoffice occasion'd my
taking a journey this year to New England, where
the College of Cambridge, of their own motion, pre-
sented me with the degree of Master of Arts. Yale
College, in Connecticut, had before made me a
similar compliment. Thus, without studying in any
college, I came to partake of their honours. They
were conferr'd in consideration of my improvements
and discoveries in the electric branch of natural phi-
losophy.
308 AUTOBIOGRAPH r OF
In 1754, ^^^ with France being again appre-
hended, a congress of commissioners from the differ-
ent colonies was, by an order of the Lords of Trade,
to be assembled at Albany, there to confer with the
chiefs of the Six Nations concerning the means of
defending both their country and ours. Governor
Hamilton, having receiv'd this order, acquainted the
House with it, requesting they would furnish proper
presents for the Indians, to be given on this occa-
sion ; and naming the speaker (Mr. Norris) and
myself to join Mr. Thomas Penn and Mr. Secretary
Peters as commissioners to act for Pennsylvania.
The House approv'd the nomination, and provided
the goods for the present, and tho' they did not much
like treating out of the provinces ; and we met the
other commissioners at Albany about the middle of
June.
In our way thither, I projected and drew a plan
for the union of all the colonies under one govern-
ment, so far as might be necessary for defense, and
other important general purposes. As we pass'd
thro' New York, I had there shown my project to
Mr. James Alexander and Mr. Kennedy, two gen-
tlemen of great knowledge in public affairs, and,
being fortified by their approbation, I ventur'd to
lay it before the Congress. It then appeared that
several of the commissioners had form'd plans of
the same kind. A previous question was first taken,
whether a union should be established, which pass'd
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 309
in the affirmative unanimously. A committee was
then appointed, one member from each colony, to
consider the several plans and report. Mine hap-
pen'd to be preferr'd, and, with a few amendments,
was accordingly reported.
By this plan the general government was to be
administered by a president-general, appointed and
supported by the crown, and a grand council was
to be chosen by the representatives of the people
of the several colonies, met in their respective as-
semblies. The debates upon it in Congress went
on daily, hand in hand with the Indian business.
Many objections and difficulties were started, but at
length they were all overcome, and the plan was
unanimously agreed to, and copies ordered to be
transmitted to the Board of Trade and to the assem-
blies of the several provinces. Its fate was singu-
lar : the assemblies did not adopt it, as they all
thought there was too much prerogative in it, and
in England it was judg'd to have too much of the
democratic. The Board of Trade therefore did not
approve of it, nor recommend it for the approbation
of his majesty ; but another scheme was form'd,
supposed to answer the same purpose better, where-
by the governors of the provinces, with some mem-
bers of their respective councils, were to meet and
order the raising of troops, building of forts, etc.,
and to draw on the treasury of Great Britain for the
expense, which was afterwards to be refunded by
an act of Parliament laying a tax on America. My
3IO AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
plan, with my reasons in support of it, is to be found
among my political papers that are printed.*
Being the winter following in Boston, I had much
conversation with Governor Shirley upon both the
plans. Part of what passed between us on the oc-
casion may also be seen among those papers. The
different and contrary reasons of dislike to my plan
makes me suspect that it was really the true me-
dium ; and I am still of opinion it would have been
happy for both sides the water if it had been adopted.
The colonies, so united, would have been sufficiently
strong to have defended themselves ; there would
then have been no need of troops from England ;
of course, the subsequent pretence for taxing Ame-
rica, and the bloody contest it occasioned, would
have been avoided. But such mistakes are not
new : history is full of the errors of states and
princes.
" Look round the habitable world, how few
Know their own good, or, knowing it, pursue !"
Those who govern, having much business on
their hands, do not generally like to take the trouble
of considering and carrying into execution new
projects. The best public measures are therefore
seldom adopted from previous -wisdom^ but ford d
by the occasion.
The Governor of Pennsylvania, in sending it
down to the Assembly, express'd his approbation
* See Sparks' Works of Franklin, vol. iii. pp. 22-51;. — Ed.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 3 I 1
of the plan, " as appearing to him to be drawn up
with great clearness and strength of judgment, and
therefore recommended it as well worthy of their
closest and most serious attention." The House,
however, by the management of a certain member,
took it up when I happen'd to be absent, which I
thought not very fair, and reprobated it without
paying any attention to it at all, to my no small
mortification.
In my journey to Boston this year, I met at New
York with our new governor, Mr. Morris, just
arriv'd there from England, with whom I had been
before intimately acquainted. He brought a com-
mission to supersede Mr. Hamilton, who, tir'd with
the disputes his proprietary instructions subjected
him to, had resign'd. Mr. Morris ask'd me if I
thought he must expect as uncomfortable an admin-
istration. I said, "No; you may, on the contrary,
have a very comfortable one, if you will only take
care not to enter into any dispute with the Assem-
bly." "My dear friend," says he, pleasantly, "how
can you advise my avoiding disputes? You know
I love disputing ; it is one of my greatest pleasures ;
however, to show the regard I have for your coim-
sel, I promise you I will, if possible, avoid them."
He had some reason for loving to dispute, being
eloquent, an acute sophister, and, therefore, gene-
rally successful in argumentative conversation. He
had been brought up to it from a boy, his father, as
I have heard, accustoming his children to dispute
312 AUTODIOGRAPIir OF
with one another for his diversion, while sitting at
table after dinner ; but I think the practice was not
wise ; for, in the course of my observation, these
disputing, contradicting, and confuting people are
generally unfortunate in their affairs. They get
victory sometimes, but they never get good will,
which would be of more use to them. We parted,
he going to Philadelphia, and I to Boston.
In returning, I met at New York with the votes
of the Assembly, by which it appear'd that, notwith-
standing his promise to me, he and the House were
already in high contention ; and it was a continual
battle between them as long as he retain'd the gov-
ernment. I had my share of it; for, as soon as I
got back to my seat in the Assembly, I was put on
every committee for answering his speeches and
messages, and by the committees always desired to
make the drafts. Our answers, as well as his mes-
sages, were often tart, and sometimes indecently
abusive ; and, as he knew I wrote for the Assembly,
one might have imagined that, when we met, we
could hardly avoid cutting throats ; but he was so
good-natur'd a man that no personal difference be-
tween him and me was occasion'd by the contest,
and we often din'd together.
One afternoon, in the height of this public quar-
rel, we met in the street. "Franklin," says he,
*'you must go home with me and spend the even-
ing ; I am to have some company that you will
like ;" and, taking me by the arm, he led me to his
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 3 I 3
house. In gay conversation over our wine, after
supper, he told us, jokingly, that he much admir'd
the idea of Sancho Panza, who, when it was pro-
posed to give him a government, requested it might
be a government of blacks, as then,* if he could not
agree with his people, he might sell them. One of
his friends, who sat next to me, says, " Franklin,
why do you continue to side with these damn'd
Quakers? Had not you better sell them? The
proprietor would give you a good price." "The
governor," says I, " has not yet blacked them
enough." He, indeed, had labored hard to blacken
the Assembly in all his messages, but they wip'd
off his coloring as fast as he laid it on, and plac'd
it, in return, thick upon his own face ; so that, find-
ing he was likely to be negrofied himself, he, as
well as Mr. Hamilton, grew tir'd of the contest, and
quitted the government.
* These public quarrels were all at bottom owing
to the proprietaries, our hereditary governors, who,
when any expense was to be incurred for the de-
fense of their province, with incredible meanness
instructed their deputies to pass no act for levying
the necessary taxes, unless their vast estates were
in the same act expressly excused ; and they had
even taken bonds of these deputies to observe
such instructions. The Assemblies for three years
held out against this injustice, tho' constrained to
* My acts in Morris's time, military, etc.— [Mar^. twte.^
27 o
314 AUTOBIOGRAPH7 OF
bend at last. At length Captain Denny, who was
Governor Morris's successor, ventured to disobey
those instructions : how that was brought about J
shall show hereafter.
But I am got forward too fast with my story :
there are still some transactions to be mention'd that
happened during the administration of Governor
Morris.
War being in a manner commenced with France,
the government of Massachusetts Bay projected an
attack upon Crown Point, and sent Mr. Quincy to
Pennsylvania, and Mr. Pownall, afterward Governor
Pownall, to New York, to solicit assistance. As I
was in the Assembly, knew its temper, and was Mr.
Quincy 's countryman, he appli'd to me for my in-
fluence and assistance. I dictated his address to
them, which was well receiv'd. They voted an aid
of ten thousand pounds, to be laid out in provisions.
But the governor refusing his assent to their bill
(which included this with other sums granted for
the use of the crown), unless a clause were inserted
exempting the proprietary estate from bearing any
part of the tax that would be necessary, the Assem-
bly, tho' very desirous of making their grant to New
England effectual, were at a loss how to accomplish
it. Mr 
