The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin (6 page)

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 judgment when he suppos'd me too young to manage business
of importance. But Sir William, on reading 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 inventory 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 believ'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 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 Collins
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 resolution of not eating animal food, and on this
occasion 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 mayn'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 vegetable diet.
So convenient a thing it is to be a reasonable creature, since it
enables one to find or make a reason for everything one has a mind
to do.

Keimer and I liv'd on a pretty good familiar footing, and agreed
tolerably well, for he suspected nothing of my setting up.
He retained a great deal of his old enthusiasms and lov'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 cautious, and would hardly answer
me the most common question, without asking first, "What do you
intend to infer from that?" However, it gave him so high an opinion
of my abilities in the confuting way, that he seriously proposed my
being his colleague in a project he had of setting up a new sect.
He was to preach the doctrines, and I was to confound all opponents.
When he came to explain with me upon the doctrines, I found several
conundrums which I objected to, unless I might have my way a little too,
and introduce some of mine.

Keimer wore his beard at full length, because somewhere 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," 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 prepar'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 eighteenpence sterling each per week.
I have since kept several Lents most strictly, leaving the common
diet for that, and that for the common, abruptly, without the
least inconvenience, so that I think there is little in the advice
of making those changes by easy gradations. I went on pleasantly,
but poor Keimer suffered grievously, tired of the project,
long'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 above eighteen,
it was thought most prudent by her mother to prevent our going too
far at present, as a marriage, if it was to take place, would be
more convenient after my return, when I should be, as I expected,
set up in my business. Perhaps, too, she thought my expectations
not so well founded as I imagined them to be.

My chief acquaintances at this time were Charles Osborne, Joseph Watson,
and James Ralph, all lovers of reading. The two first were clerks
to an eminent scrivener or conveyancer in the town, Charles Brogden;
the other was clerk to a merchant. Watson was a pious, sensible
young man, of great integrity; the others rather more lax in their
principles of religion, particularly Ralph, who, as well as Collins,
had been unsettled by me, for which they both made me suffer.
Osborne was sensible, candid, frank; sincere and affectionate
to his friends; but, in literary matters, too fond of criticising.
Ralph was ingenious, genteel in his manners, and extremely eloquent;
I think I never knew a prettier talker. Both of them great
admirers of poetry, and began to try their hands in little pieces.
Many pleasant walks we four had together on Sundays into the woods,
near Schuylkill, where we read to one another, and conferr'd on what
we read.

Ralph was inclin'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 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 advis'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 observations, 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 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. Osborne's was read; it was much better;
Ralph did it justice; remarked some faults, but applauded
the beauties. He himself had nothing to produce. I was backward;
seemed desirous of being excused; had not had sufficient time
to correct, 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!"
When we next met, Ralph discovered the trick we had plaid him,
and Osborne was a little laught at.

This transaction fixed Ralph in his resolution of becoming a poet.
I did all I could to dissuade him from it, but he continued
scribbling verses till Pope cured him. He became, however, a pretty
good prose writer. More of him hereafter. But, as I may not have
occasion again to mention the other two, I shall just remark here,
that Watson died in my arms a few years after, much lamented,
being the best of our set. Osborne went to the West Indies,
where he became an eminent lawyer and made money, but died young.
He and I had made a serious agreement, that the one who happen'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 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 delivered to me.

Ralph, though married, and having one child, had determined to
accompany me in this voyage. It was thought he intended to establish
a correspondence, and obtain goods to sell on commission; but I
found afterwards, that, thro' some discontent with his wife's relations,
he purposed to leave her on their hands, and never return again.
Having 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 me, being engaged in business
of the utmost importance, 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 Philadelphia, 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 persons.
But Mr. Hamilton and his son (it was James, since governor)
return'd from Newcastle to Philadelphia, 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.
Accordingly, 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 present, and we proceeded on our voyage.
We had a sociable company in the cabin, and lived uncommonly well,
having the addition of all Mr. Hamilton's stores, who had laid
in plentifully. In this passage Mr. Denham contracted a friendship
for me that continued during his life. The voyage was otherwise
not a pleasant one, as we had a great deal of bad weather.