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 in 2017 with funding from 
 Duke University Libraries 
 
 https://archive.org/details/autobiographyofb01fran_0 
 
Benjamin Franklin. 
 
pgs' 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by 
 JOHN BIGELOW, 
 
 In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States, for the Southern 
 District of New York. 
 
 One hundred copies printed. 
 
 NO../Z 
 
 / 
 
 LIPPINCOTT’S PRESS, 
 
 PHILADELPHIA. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 INTRODUCTORY 7 
 
 FRANKLIN’S OUTLINE OF TOPICS 61 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF FRANKLIN 65 
 
 APPENDIX 361 
 
 INDEX 
 
 389 
 

I. 
 
 I T is proper that I state the circumstances which seem 
 to have imposed upon me the duty of adding another 
 to the already numberless editions of Dr. Franklin’s 
 Autobiography. 
 
 It is well known that Franklin prepared so much of 
 the celebrated Memoirs of his life as was originally in- 
 tended 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, 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 
 
 * Benjamin Franklin died on the 17th of April, 1790, aged eighty- 
 four years and three months. 
 
 7 
 
8 
 
 life and writings of his grandfather for a publishing house 
 in 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 
 the original autograph with Mrs. le Veillard, then a 
 widow, for her copy of the Memoirs ; and thus the auto- 
 graph passed out of the Franklin 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 in 1817, 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. 
 
9 
 
 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 is 
 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 the 
 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 Franklin was the Doctor’s only son, 
 and in 1771, 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 
 grandfather. The fact that the French version com- 
 mences with “Mon cher fils,” omitting the name and 
 title, leaves no doubt that the titles were added by the 
 editor in the edition of 1817* 
 
 A * 
 
{From the Edition of 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 born, and 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 even to an advaticed 
 period of life, my posterity will per- 
 haps be desirous of learning the 
 means which I etnployed, and which, 
 thanks to Providence, so well suc- 
 ceeded with me. They may also 
 deem them fit to be imitated, should 
 any of them find themselves in simi- 
 lar circumstances. 
 
 {From the Edition of 1817 , p. 4.) 
 
 My grandfather Thomas, who 
 was born 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. 1.) 
 
 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 week's un- 
 interrupted leisure in my present 
 coimtry 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 de- 
 gree of reputation in the world, 
 and having gone so far through life 
 with a considerable share of felicity, 
 the conducing mea>is 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 therefore fit to be imitated. 
 
 (From the Autograph, p. 1.) 
 
 My grandfather Thomas, who 
 was born in 1598, lived at Ecton 
 till he grew too old to follcnu busi- 
 ness longer when he went to live 
 with his son fokn, 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 1817, refer- 
 ence will be made to the American edition of this work, in six vols., 
 published in Philadelphia in 1818. 
 
II 
 
 (Edition of 1817, p. 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 
 find among them many more par- 
 ticulars. 
 
 [Omitted.] 
 
 (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 the 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 of 1817, p. 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. 3.) 
 
 I was named after this uncle, 
 there being a particular affection 
 between him and my father. 
 
 (From the Autograph, p. 7.) 
 
 I think you may like to know 
 something of his person and diame- 
 ter. He had an excellent constitu- 
 tion of body, was of middle stature, 
 but well set and very strong; he 
 was ingenious; 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 
 use of other tradesmen’s tools but 
 his great excellence lay in a sound 
 understanding, etc. 
 
 (Autograph, p. 13.) 
 
 About this time I met with an 
 odd volume of the Spectator. It 
 was the third. I had never before, 
 etc. 
 
12 
 
 {From Edition of 1817, p. 16.) 
 
 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. 
 
 {Editioti of 1817, p. 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 charac- 
 ter . , whose parents would compel 
 me to marry her ; and that I could 
 neither appear or come away pub- 
 licly. 
 
 [From the Edition of 1817, p. 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 Aiitograph, 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 stony beach, 
 so we dropped anchor and swung 
 around toward the 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- 
 
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 but 
 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 of 1817, /. 29.) 
 
 I was not a little surprised, and 
 Keimer stared with astonishment. 
 
 (. Edition of 1817 , p. 33.) 
 
 But during my absence he had ac- 
 quired a habit of drbiking 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 one, 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 1817, p. 34.) 
 
 The violation of my trust respect- 
 ing Vernon's money was, etc. 
 
 2 
 
 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 
 about books and authors. 
 
 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 money of 
 Vernon’s, was, etc. 
 
( Edition 1817 ,p. 47.) 
 
 I drank only water, the other 
 workmen, near fifty in number, 
 were great drinkers of beer. 
 
 (Edition 1817 , p. 55.) 
 
 At length, receiving his quar- 
 terly allowance of fifteen guineas, 
 instead of discharging his debts he 
 went out of town, hid his gown in 
 a furze bush and walked to London. 
 
 (Autograph, p. 53.) 
 
 I drank only water, the other 
 workmen, near fifty in number, 
 were great guzzlers of beer. 
 
 (Autograph, p. 62.) 
 
 At length, receiving his quar- 
 terly allowance of fifteen guineas, 
 instead of discharging his debts he 
 walked out of town, hid his gown 
 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 twenty-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 lay 
 before the reader such information as I have been able 
 to glean from a variety of sources, both published and 
 unpublished, leaving him to draw from them such con- 
 clusions as he thinks the testimony will warrant. The 
 array which I shall make, if it do not settle all these 
 questions, may lead, it is to be hoped, to the production 
 of latent testimony that will. 
 
i5 
 
 II. 
 
 Dr. Franklin informs us, in the very first paragraph ot 
 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 1771, 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 1784, 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 several 
 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 1817 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. 
 
iugly 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 1793. 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 contributing to the 
 happiness of others.* 
 
 * For the whole Preface, see Appendix, No. 1. It is a curious cir- 
 cumstance that the copy of the Memoirs given in this collection of Cas- 
 tera was translated from an English edition, which was itself only a 
 translation from the first French translation, thus removed by three 
 translations from the original. The gossips of Paris used to cir- 
 culate a story illustrative of Franklin’s constitutional propensity to 
 take cheerful views of things. The author of Correspondence secrete 
 inedite sur Louis XVI., Marie Antoinette, la Cour et la Ville, de 1777 
 1) 1792, edited by M. Lescure, and published by M. Henri Plon 
 in 1866, writing from Versailles the 6th February, 1777, says: “I fear 
 to speak to you of the Americans. The British Minister represents 
 them as beaten, destroyed, dispersed, annihilated even. Letters from 
 St. Domingo, from our own ports and to M. Franklin, assure us on 
 the contrary that the English are in a bad way ; that Howe has been 
 whipped, &c. We wait for confirmation of the news. Meantime I must 
 tell you that Franklin is not the medecui tant pis. For whenever they 
 speak to him at Paris of any check experienced by the Americans, 
 he cries out, ‘ tant jnieiix,' the English will be caught at last.” Vol. i. 
 p. 18. 
 
J 7 
 
 A comparison of dates will show that M. Castera’s 
 theory was purely imaginary. 
 
 * * * The self-torturing sophist, wild Rousseau, 
 
 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 176S and 
 1770. It was his intention that they should not be printed 
 until 1800, 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 
 Doctor’s reply : 
 
 “Philadelphia, 26 th November, 1785. 
 
 “ Dear Sir : 
 
 “I received your kind letter of September 5th, inform- 
 ing me 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 
 2 * 
 
i8 
 
 addition to my house, which will afford 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 myselt 
 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 offer of correcting it.* * * * * * 
 
 The Doctor’s hopes of completing the Memoirs during 
 the winter of 1785 were not realized, nor did he resume 
 work upon them until three years later. 
 
 “As to the little history f I promised you,” he writes to 
 his friend, Le Veillard, the 15th April, 1787, “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 
 
 * Sparks’ Works of Franklin, vol. x. p. 240. 
 
 t 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 your 
 Memoirs, and will send them to me.” Sparks’ Works of Franklin, vol. 
 x. p. 231. 
 
l 9 
 
 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, 17S8, 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, 1788: 
 
 “ Our new government goes on in its way. Many 
 
 * Le Veillard Collection. For the entire letter, see Appendix, 
 No. 2. 
 
 t Ibid. For the entire letter, see Appendix, No. 3. 
 
20 
 
 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, Alessrs. 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. F.”* 
 
 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, 1788, he writes: 
 
 “ I should have proceeded in the history you mention, 
 if I could w r ell have avoided accepting the chair of Presi- 
 dent for this third and last year ; to which I was again 
 elected by the u 7 ia. 7 ti?nous 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 work you do me the honor to urge 
 so earnestly.” f 
 
 * Le Veillard Collection. See Appendix, No. 4. 
 t Sparks’ Works of Franklin, vol. x. p. 336. 
 
2 1 
 
 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, 1787, in which you continue to urge me to finish the 
 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 course 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 
 bring 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 
 
 * Sparks’ Works of Franklin, vol. x. p. 345. 
 
22 
 
 age 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 
 affairs even if required ; but his countrymen will be too 
 reasonable to require 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 1788, 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 what 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 which 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 
 become totally emaciated, and little remains of me but a 
 skeleton covered with a skin. In this situation, I have 
 
 * Sparks’ Works of Franklin, vol. x. p. 349. 
 
23 
 
 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 friend 
 Vaughan, who, it appears, had been urging him to go on 
 with the Memoirs : 
 
 “ I received your kind letter of March 4th, and wish I 
 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 
 
 * Le Veillard Collection, Appendix, No. 5. 
 t Sparks’ Works of Franklin, vol. x. p. 393. 
 
2 4 
 
 is what 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 earnest 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 sutler any copy of it, or of any part of it, 
 to be taken for any purpose whatever.”* 
 
 This was the last allusion to the Memoirs of which I 
 find any trace in the Doctor’s correspondence. The only 
 evidence, beyond the promise contained in his letter of 
 the 3d of June, that he sent a copy to Mr. Vaughan, is a 
 statement made by the Due de la Rochefoucault in a eulo- 
 gium which he pronounced before a society in Paris on 
 the 13th of June, 1789. In this discourse he says: 
 
 “ The most voluminous of his works is the history of 
 
 * Sparks’ Works of Franklin, vol. x. p. 397. 
 
25 
 
 his own life, which he commenced for the use of his son, 
 and for the continuation of which 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 
 respite, 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 offence 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 after 
 his letter of the 2d of November to Mr. Vaughan. By his 
 will, made in the summer of 17S8, he bequeathed his books, 
 manuscripts, and papers, after deducting a few special be- 
 quests, to hisgrandson, William Temple Franklin. Among 
 the manuscripts was the original text of these Memoirs. 
 
 On the 22d of May, Wm. Temple wrote M. le Veil- 
 3 B 
 
2 6 
 
 lard, announcing his grandfather’s death 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 publication, and 
 requesting M. le Veillard to show them to no one unless 
 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 the 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, which 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 papers and manuscripts to me, with permission to 
 
 Le Veillard Collection. For the original see Appendix, No. 6. 
 
3 7 
 
 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 the 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 
 
2S 
 
 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 offer no apology for giving it entire : 
 
 “ I 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 lui 
 meme et addressees a son fils, suivis d’un precis historique de la vie 
 politique, et de plusieurs pieces, relatives, a ce pere de la liberte. A 
 Paris, chez 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 sent 
 
2 9 
 
 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 1730. 
 
 3 * 
 
3 ° 
 
 “ If my conjecture prove right ; if the Memoirs which 
 they are about to publish under the name of Franklin 
 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 affected 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. 
 
 u As these Memoirs reach no farther than his marriage, 
 
3 * 1 
 
 I have made use of other materials in order to complete 
 so interesting a history, and I have also added a number 
 of anecdotes and remarks relative to this philosophical 
 American. The Editor.” 
 
 Querard* attributes this translation to a Dr. Jaques 
 Gibelin, who, it appears, was a naturalist of some repute ; 
 had been occasionally in England ; had translated from 
 
 * Querard, La France Litteraire. 
 
 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, 21 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 Memoires de la Vie Privee de Benjamin Franklin , 
 ecrits par lui-meme et addressees h son jils. 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. 
 
 I 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 
 two volumes, which may be obtained separately. 
 
 Le Veii.lard.' 
 
3 2 
 
 English philosojDhical writers, Priestly 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 
 1791, 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 1 2th 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 between 
 Gibelin and many of Franklin’s English friends whose works he had 
 translated, naturally leads to the suspicion that the copy promised Mr. 
 Vaughan, if ever made and sent, may in some way have fallen into 
 Gibelin’s hands. If so, Mr. Vaughan must have construed the 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 such was the 
 case, however, why did he not produce an English edition ? 
 
 In a notice which Cabanis prepared shortly after the news of Dr. 
 Franklin’s death reached Paris, the following allusion is made to this 
 edition of the Memoirs : 
 
 “Benjamin Franklin, s’est peint lui-meme dans des Memoires dont il 
 n’a paru jusq’ici qu’un fragment ; mais ce sont ses ennemis ou des pen- 
 sionnaires du cabinet de Saint James qui Font publie. Ils y ont joint 
 de plates notes auxquelles la famille aurait du repondre plus tot par la 
 publication du reste de l’ouvrage. En attendant qu’elle remplisse ce 
 devoir, nous allons rassembler ici quelques traits, que nous avons re- 
 cueillis de la bouche meme de Franklin dans une commerce intime de 
 plusieurs annees .” — (Euvres de Cabanis, vol. v. p. 221. 
 
33 
 
 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, I shall certainly 
 leave London for Paris in the course of a fortnight. But 
 my wish is, if possible, to finish 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. 
 B* 
 
34 
 
 It appeared in London in 1793,* and was not only the 
 only English version in print until 1 S 1 7, but continues to 
 this day to be republished by some of the largest houses, 
 not only in Europe, but in America, under the impres- 
 sion that it is both genuine and complete. What meas- 
 ures 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, 14 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 
 
 * “ The Private Life of the late Benjamin Franklin, LL.D., late Min- 
 ister Plenipotentiary from the United States of America to France, etc., 
 etc., etc., originally written by himself, and now translated from the 
 French. To which are added some account of his public life, a variety 
 of anecdotes concerning him, by MM. Brissot, Condorcet, Rochefou- 
 cault, Le Roy, etc., etc., and the Eulogium of M. Fauchet, Constitutional 
 Bishop of the Department of Calvados and a Member of the National 
 Convention. Eripuitfulmen Ccelo , mox sceptra tyrannis. — Turgot. A 
 Paris ce grand hotnme dans notre ancien regime serait rest£ dans Pobscurite , 
 comment employer le fils d'un Chandelier." — Le Roy. 
 
 London : Printed for J. Parsons, No. 31 Pater Noster Row. 1793. 
 
35 
 
 I rec’d a salary and which, being now completed, affords 
 me a profit of seven thousand pounds 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 furnish 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. 
 
36 
 
 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 assure 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 pursuits 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 sa??ie 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. 
 
37 
 
 “ 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 heal'd, 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, as has been 
 already stated, until 1817. 
 
 But, as I have before intimated, this editio princeps 
 of 1817 was not printed from the original manuscripts, 
 but from the copy presented to M. le Veillard. The evi- 
 
 4 
 
 * Le Veillard Collection. 
 
38 
 
 deuce of this may be found in the omission of the last 
 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 only Manuscript Entirely of his own Handwriting. 
 
 “Dr. Franklin, when Ambassador in France, was 
 very intimate with M. le Veillard, gentilhomme oi-di- 
 naire du Rot , 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 
 1S02, informs us that he was shown the autograph ; that 
 
39 
 
 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. Franklin’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. 
 
4 ° 
 
 manuscript for the copy sent to M. le Veillard, without 
 being aware that, between the time that copy was made 
 and its author’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 been 
 altogether unable to account for the imperfect and un- 
 satisfactory manner in which the work has now been per- 
 
 See Edinburgh Review, July, 1806. 
 
4 1 
 
 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 his 
 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 e?nissary 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 remuneration 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 seiwice. It is 
 iudicrous to talk of the danger of disclosing, in 1795, any 
 secrets of State with regard to the war of American Inde- 
 pendence ; and as to any anecdotes or observations that 
 might give offence to individuals, we think it should 
 always be remembered that public functionaries are the 
 property of the public ; that their character belongs to 
 4 * 
 
42 
 
 history and to posterity, and that it is equally absurd and 
 discreditable to think of suppressing 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 vicinage.” 
 
 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 his 
 grandfather which he did not assign in his preface. He 
 says :f 
 
 “ 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 7. 
 
 t Sparks’ Life of Franklin, vol. vii. Preface. 
 
43 
 
 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 grandfather’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 1816, 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 very 
 satisfactory, and there were doubtless others. His father, 
 William Franklin, died in 1S13. 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- 
 
44 
 
 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.” 
 
 The conjecture of Mr. Sparks is, no doubt, correct so 
 far as it goes. There can be no question with any person 
 cognizant of the state of feeling which prevailed at the 
 time in England toward the revolted Colonies, that the 
 publication of an elaborate edition of Franklin’s works 
 would have been unacceptable to the governing classes ; 
 nor can there be much doubt that such a publication 
 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 
 
45 
 
 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 chose, 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 certainty. Every one’s conclusions will be 
 more or less affected 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 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.” 
 
 When this was written, Dr. Franklin had been dead 
 
4 6 
 
 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 this seemed to be, which imposed so slight a 
 restraint upon the movements of its beneficiary. 
 
 From whatever source this £7000 came, and however 
 little or much the acquisition of it had to do with the 
 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.” 
 
 * CEuvres de Cabanis, vol. v. p. 223. 
 
 t New Jersey. 
 
47 
 
 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’s 
 correspondence was compiled and published in Paris, in 
 2 vols., by M. Charles Malo.* The Preface of this book 
 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?”! 
 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 employments. 
 
 * Correspondence Inedite et Secrete de Docteur B. Franklin, Ministre 
 Plenipotentiaire des Etats-Unis d’Amerique pres la Cour de France 
 depuis l’annee 1753 jusque en 1790 offrant, en trois parties completes et 
 bien distinctes. 
 
 i°. Les Memoires de sa Vie privee ; 
 
 2°. Les causes premieres de la Revolution d’Amerique ; 
 
 3°. L’Histoire des diverses negotiations entre l’Angleterre, la France et 
 des Etats-Unis, publiee pour la premiere fois en France, avec des notes, 
 additions, &c. Paris, Janet pere, Libraire Editeur, Rue Saint-Jacques, 
 No. 59. MDCCCXVII. 
 
 t For a translation of this diatribe, see the Appendix, No. 8. The 
 author of it, M. Charles Malo, was a voluminous writer, something of 1 
 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 
 
48 
 
 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 
 
 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 in 
 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 upper 
 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 
 of humorous approval the following lines from an old song : 
 
 “ With a courage undaunted may I face my last day, 
 
 And when 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 governed his passions.” 
 
 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 pared au monde ! Car il avait sur ses passions un 
 pouvoir absolu.’” 
 
49 
 
 chirography that all the MS. is legible, though abound- 
 ing with interlineations and erasures. The last eight 
 pages only, betray what Cicero terms the vacillantibus 
 litterzilis 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 red 
 morocco, with a memorandum, which has already been 
 cited, inscribed on fly-leaves in French and in English, 
 in the handwriting, I presume, of M. le Veillard. 
 
 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 manuscript 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 Passy, 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 country 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 
 5 C 
 
5 ° 
 
 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. Tenqrle had not verified. Proof of this 
 may be found in the second volume of the small edition 
 of the Memoirs, in two volumes in iSmo., 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 1, 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, 
 and 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, we presume, was the father of the M. 
 P. de Senarmont from whom I received the Memoirs and the memo- 
 randum now under the reader’s eye. 
 
5 * 1 
 
 " 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 1791.* 
 
 “M. le Veillard, who is the author of the French trans- 
 lation of the Memoirs of Franklin, f has preserved the 
 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 1794, the MS. went to his 
 
 * 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 
 their 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 June, 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- 
 changed for the' autograph. 
 
 On the other hand, M. le Veillard, in his note to the Journal du 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 
 
 t 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 
 all 
 
52 
 
 daughter. At her death, in 1834, it 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, ijth 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- 
 lard 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- 
 tion 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 — ma?i?ier of conducting the project — its 
 plan 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. 
 
53 
 
 It will be found extremely interesting, first, as showing 
 how 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 1 757? while the 
 Outline comes down to the conclusion of his diplomatic 
 career, of course embracing the most interesting portion of 
 his life. No one can glance over the subjects that were 
 to have been treated in the succeeding pages of the 
 Memoirs without experiencing a new pang of regret at 
 their incompleteness. How precious would have been 
 the personal sketches which he promised to leave of 
 many of the distinguished people among whom he spent 
 the latter years of his life ; how interesting the impres- 
 sions which he would have thought worth recording of 
 his first visit to the Continent in 1766, ’67 and ’69 ; of the 
 entertainment given him by the French Academy ; of his 
 mode of prosecuting his electrical discoveries ; his anal- 
 ysis of his own character ; and, above all, his account of 
 his last residence in France, and of his negotiations for 
 the recognition of the Colonies. 
 
 Rich and charming as is his correspondence upon 
 many of these subjects, we miss the limpid narrative. 
 
 * 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. What 
 he says will help the reader to comprehend the uses for which the Out- 
 line referred to in the text was prepared. See Appendix, No. 9. 
 
 5 * 
 
54 
 
 gemmed all over, like a cloudless firmanent at night, with 
 the pertinent anecdote, curious observation and sage 
 reflections which constitute the unspeakable charm of his 
 Memoirs. 
 
 But though it was ordained that this Autobiography 
 should take its place among the famous unfinished pro- 
 jects of human genius, it is a great satisfaction to know, 
 as this document permits us to know, what were the ex- 
 periences of the most momentous period of his life which 
 Dr. Franklin thought most worthy of being rescued from 
 oblivion, even though, like some familiar memorial of a 
 departed friend, they renew the sense of a loss to which 
 time was beginning to bring its consolations. 
 
 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 inscription 
 upon the frame : 
 
 “BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, 
 
 “A 77 ANS, 
 
 “ Peiut par J k S d Duplessis, 
 
 “ 1783. 
 
 “ Donnd par Franklin lui-meme.” 
 
 On the back is the following memorandum, placed 
 there, doubtless, by M. le Veillard: 
 
 Benjamin Franklin, & 77 ans ; peint en 1783 par Duplessis; 
 donnd par Franklin lui-meme k M. Louis le Veillard, genti' 
 homme ordinaire de la Reine, son ami et son voisin k Passy. 
 
55 
 
 Joseph Sifired Duplessis, Academicien, nd h Carpentrar, 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 posds avec noblesse et dans des altitudes bien choisies. II 
 h peint le portrait de Louis XVI., ceux de M. et Mme. Neckar, 
 et de plusieurs grands de la Cour. — Les trois sideles de la peint- 
 ure la France, par Gault de St. Germain. 1808. — Swiback l’eleve 
 le plus distingud de Duplessis, h surpasse son maitre. 
 
 It will be observed that, unmindful of the example ol 
 previous editors of these Memoirs, I have limited myself 
 strictly to a reproduction of their text, without attempting 
 to continue and complete the narrative of the Autobiog- 
 rapher’s life. I have one sufficient excuse, if any is 
 needed, for this course which none of my predecessors 
 could have pleaded. The delightful and comparatively 
 recent work of Mr. Parton has left no place in English 
 literature for another biography of this most illustrious 
 of our countrymen. 
 
 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 1 866.* 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 preservation of our Federal Union, to 
 keep alive in France that friendship for the United States 
 
 * Memoires de Benjamin Franklin, ecrits par lui-meme, traduits de 
 l’Anglais et annotes par Edouard Laboulaye, de l’Institut de France 
 Paris, Libraire de L. Hachette & Cie. 1866. 
 
5 6 
 
 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. 
 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 shrewd 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 
 
57 
 
 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 
 most correct life there is always many a page to correct. 
 It is thus that he humbles himself to us to encourage 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 
 perusing 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 1783, 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 
 
 C * 
 
5 § 
 
 in a secret with which he himself succeeded. In our 
 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 
 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 Franklin, or to be favored as 
 he was 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.” 
 
 I will venture to add that in my judgment there never 
 was a time in the history of our country when the lessons 
 of humility, economy, industry, toleration, charity, and 
 patriotism, which are made so captivating in this Auto- 
 biography, could be studied with more profit by tire rising 
 generation of Americans than now. They have burdens 
 to bear unknown to their ancestors, and problems of gov- 
 ernment to solve unknown to history. All the qualities, 
 moral and intellectual, that are requisite for a successful 
 encounter with these portentous responsibilities were sin- 
 gularly united in the character 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 coun- 
 try’s greatness. 
 
 All the notes to this volume, not credited to other 
 sources, are from the manuscript, and, of course, in 
 Franklin’s handwriting. 
 
59 
 
 The notes signed “ B.” are by the Editor. 
 
 Those signed “ W. T. F.” are by William Temple 
 Franklin. 
 
 Those signed “ Sparks,” are from Dr. Sparks’ precious 
 Collection of the Writings of Franklin. 
 
 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 satisfactory to many readers to see with what 
 defects of early education its author had successfully con- 
 tended in reaching a celebrity as yet attained by none of 
 his countrymen. 
 
 It will be observed that Franklin followed no system 
 of orthography very strictly. He would spell fublic with 
 a “ k,” and niusic without a “ k.” In some participles 
 and adjectives ending in “ ed” he would substitute an 
 apostrophe for the final “ e in others he would give 
 the final syllable in full. Though is almost uniformly 
 spelt “ tho job with two “ b’s,” and surf with two “ f’s” 
 — extreme , “ extream.” 
 
 A few gross mistakes occur, such as “ sope,” for “ soap,” 
 etc. ; yet as a general rule his orthography conformed to 
 that of his time. It may be said, with entire justice, that 
 he spelled the king’s English very much better than the 
 king himself did. 
 
 JOHN BIGELOW. 
 
 The Squirrels, December 28, 1867. 
 
[ Copie d'un Projit tres Curieux de Benjamin Franklin — i ere 
 Esquisse de ses Memoires. Les additions cL Fencre rouge 
 sont de la main 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 road. 
 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. 
 
 6 
 
 61 
 
62 
 
 Debt. Ralph and I go to England. Disappointment of Governor’s 
 Letters. Colonel French his Friend. Cornwallis’s Letters. Cabbin. 
 Denham. Hamilton. Arrival in England. Get employment. Ralph 
 not He is an expense to me. Adventures in England. Write a Pam- 
 phlet and print ioo. Schemes. Lyons. Dr. Pemberton. My diligence, 
 and yet poor through Ralph. My Landlady. Her character. Wygate. 
 Wilkes. Cibber. 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 History. 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-oflice. 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- 
 
6 3 
 
 marks upon it. It fails, and how. Journey to Boston in 1754. Dis- 
 putes about it in our AssemDly. My part in them. New Governor. 
 Disputes with him. His character and sayings to me. Chosen Aider- 
 man. Project of Hospital. My share in it. Its success. Boxes. Made 
 a Commissioner of the Treasury. My commission to defend the frontier 
 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 delenda 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, Nollet. 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. 
 
6 4 
 
 Charles Townsend’s Act. Opposition to it. Stoves and chimney-plates. 
 Armonica. Acquaintance with Ambassadors. Russian Intimation. 
 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. 
 
 D EAR SON : I have ever had pleasure in ob- 
 taining any little anecdotes of my ancestors. 
 You may remember the inquiries I made among the 
 
 * The country-seat of the Bishop of St. Asaph, Dr. Jonathan Shipley, 
 the “good Bishop,” as Dr. Franklin used to style him. Their relations 
 were intimate and confidential. In his pulpit, and in the House of 
 Lords, as well as in society, the Bishop always opposed the harsh mea- 
 sures of the Crown toward the Colonies. Franklin thus refers to one 
 of his friendly sermons in a letter to his son William : 
 
 “ I have sent to Mr. Galloway one of the Bishop of St. Asaph’s ser- 
 mons before your Society for Propagating the Gospel. I would have 
 sent you one, but you will receive it of course as a member. It contains 
 such liberal and generous sentiments relating to the conduct of govern- 
 ment here toward America that Sir John Pringle says it was written in 
 compliment to me. But from the intimacy of friendship in which I live 
 with the author, I know he has expressed nothing but what he thinks 
 0 * 65 
 
66 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 remains of my relations when you were with me in 
 England, and the journey I undertook for that pur- 
 
 and feels ; and I honor him the more that through the mere hope of 
 doing good he has hazarded the displeasure of the Court, and of course 
 the prospect of further preferment.” Sparks' Works of Franklin , vol. 
 viii. p. 40. 
 
 The following extract from a letter written to his wife by the Doctor, 
 just after one of his visits to Twyford in 1771, reveals the kind of con- 
 sideration in which the Doctor was held in that household : 
 
 “ I spent three weeks in Hampshire at my friend the Bishop of St. 
 Asaph’s. The Bishop’s lady knows what children and grandchildren I 
 have, and their ages ; so, when I was to come away on Monday, the 12th, 
 in the morning, she insisted on me staying that one day longer, that we 
 might together keep my grandson’s birthday. At dinner, among other 
 nice things, we had a floating island, which they always particularly have 
 on the birthdays of any of their own six children, who were all but one 
 at table, where there was also a clergyman’s widow, now above one hun- 
 dred years old. The chief toast of the day was Master Benjamin Bache, 
 which the venerable old lady began in a bumper of Mountain. The 
 Bishop’s lady politely added : ‘ And that he may be as good a man as 
 his grandfather.’ I said I hoped he would be much better. The Bishop, 
 still more complaisant than his lady, said, We will compound the matter 
 and be contented if he should not prove quite so good. This chit-chat 
 is to yourself only, in return for some of yours about your grandson, and 
 must not be read to Sally, and must not be spoken of to anybody else ; 
 for you know how people add and alter silly stories that they hear, and 
 make them appear ten times more silly.” Sparks' Works of Franklin , 
 vol. vii. p. 538. 
 
 The “good Bishop” died on the 9th of December, 1788. In reply to 
 a note from his gifted daughter, Miss Catharine Louisa Shipley, an- 
 nouncing her father’s death, Dr. Franklin wrote : 
 
 “Philadelphia, 27 April . 1789. 
 
 “ It is only a few days since the kind letter of my dear young friend, 
 dated December 24th, came to my hand. I had before, in the public 
 papers, met with the afflicting news that letter contained. That excel- 
 lent man has then left us ! His departure is a loss not to his family and 
 friends only, but to his nation and to the world ; for he was intent on 
 doing good — had wisdom to devise the means and talents to promote 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 67 
 
 pose. Imagining it may be equally agreeable to* * 
 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 
 I made use of, which with the blessing of God so 
 
 them. His ‘ sermon before the Society for Propagating the Gospel,’ and 
 his speech intended to have been spoken (on the bill for altering the 
 Charters of the Colony of Massachusetts Bay), are proofs of his ability 
 as well as of his humanity. Had his counsels in those pieces been 
 attended to by ministers, how much bloodshed might have been pre- 
 vented, and how much expense and disgrace to the nation avoided ! 
 
 “Your reflections on the constant calmness and composure attending 
 his death are very sensible. Such instances seem to show that the good 
 sometimes enjoy in dying a foretaste of the happy state they are about 
 to enter. 
 
 “ According to the course of years, I should have quitted this world 
 long before him. I shall, however, not be long in following. I am 
 now in my eighty-fourth year, and the last year has considerably en- 
 feebled me, so that I hardly expect to remain another. You will then, 
 my dear friend, consider this as probably the last.” B. 
 
 * After the words “ agreeable to” the words “ some of” were interlined 
 and afterward effaced. The Doctor probably had it in his mind to 
 address his Memoirs to his children or family, but finally concluded to 
 address them to his son, perhaps to secure a freedom in treating the 
 events of his life which he would not have had were he addressing his 
 daughter. The words “ some of” may not have been effaced until after 
 he had determined to allow the Memoirs to be printed, which there is 
 reason to believe he had not originally contemplated. B. 
 
68 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 well succeeded, my posterity may like to know, as 
 they may find some of 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 
 words, “ 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. 
 
 69 
 
 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 within 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 12th, 1731. 
 
 “ Dear Sir : 
 
 ******** 
 
 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 kind 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 , w'hich 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 pius lEneas * * * 
 
 * * * fama super aethera 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 own 
 praise, etc. But 
 
 Naturam espellas furca, tamen usque recurret. 
 
 Being forbid to praise themselves, they learn instead of it to censure 
 
7o 
 
 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, I 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.” 
 
 — Sparks' Works of Franklin, vol. viii. p. 52. 
 
 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. 
 
 71 
 
 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 knowing 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 the 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 
 
72 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 tnem success. My belief of this induces me to hofe, 
 though I must not presume, that the same goodness 
 
 our ancestors the qualities that best promote the interests of society ; 
 and to pronounce the descendant of a king less truly noble than the off- 
 spring of a man of genius, whose writings 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 two 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 Den- 
 bigh, who draw their origin from the Counts of Denbigh, who draw 
 their origin from the Counts of Hapsburg, the lineal descendants of 
 Enrico, in the seventh century, 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 glory 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 scanty 
 
 * Nor less praiseworthy are the ladies three, 
 
 The honor of that noble familie, 
 
 Of which I meanest boast myself to be. 
 
 Spencer, Colin Clout , &C., v. 538. 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 73 
 
 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 the student of every class may derive a lesson, or an 
 example, from the lives most similar to his own. 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 
 sufficient 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 Montagne 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 Cibber. 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.” 
 
 7 D 
 
74 
 
 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 : 
 
 “ I am, or rather was (for that is the style I must now use in speak- 
 ing of myself, which emboldens me the more to speak my sentiments) ; 
 I was, I say, a man of mild dispositions, of command of temper, of an 
 open, social and cheerful humor, capable of attachment, but little sus- 
 ceptible of enmity, and of great moderation in all my passions. Even 
 my love of literary fame, my ruling passion, never soured my temper, 
 notwithstanding my frequent disappointments. My company was not 
 unacceptable to the young and careless, as well as to the studious and 
 literary ; and as I took a particular pleasure in the company of modest 
 women, I had no reason to be displeased with the reception I met with 
 from them. In a word, though most men anywise eminent have found 
 reason to complain of calumny, I never was touched, or even attacked 
 by her baleful 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 pro- 
 pagate 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 ; and this is a matter of fact which is easily 
 cleared and ascertained” B. 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 75 
 
 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 Laudibns Legicm Anglia, 
 written about the year 1412, in which is the following passage, to show 
 that good juries might easily be formed in any part of England : “ Regio 
 etiam 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, 
 rnagnis ditatus possessionibus, nec non libere tenentes et alii valecti 
 plurimi, suis patrimoniis sufficientes ad faciendum juratam, in forma 
 praenotata.” Moreover, the same country is so filled and replenished 
 with landed menne, that therein so small a thorpe cannot be found 
 wherein dweleth not a knight, an esquire, or such an householder, as is 
 there commonly called a Franklin, enriched with great possessions ; and 
 also other freeholders and many yeomen able for their livelihoodes tc 
 make a jury in form aforementioned . — Old Translation. 
 
 Chaucer, too, calls his country gentleman a Franklin, and, after de- 
 scribing 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.” 
 
 
76 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY 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.* 
 
 * The following is a copy of an original letter, which is in the hands 
 of the publisher in Philadelphia; it is a curious relic, and was found 
 among the wreck of Dr. Franklin’s papers several years ago : 
 
 “ From Josiah 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 
 French extract, which was formerly called Franks ; some of a free line, 
 a line free from that vassalage which was common to subjects in days 
 of old ; some from a bird of long red legs. Your uncle Benjamin made 
 inquiry of one skilled in heraldry, who told him there is two coats of 
 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. 
 
 77 
 
 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 
 ac 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 was discovered they 
 would be in hazard of their lives. My grandfather was a smith also, 
 ana 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 
 toucned 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 tne 18th of October, 1698; married to Miss Jane White, niece to 
 Coh. 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 
 so well. Son John received the letter, but is so busy just now that he 
 cannot write you an answer, but will do the best he can. Now with 
 hearty love to, and prayer for you all, I rest your affectionate father, 
 
 “ Josiah Franklin. 
 
 “ Boston, May 26, 1 739.” W. T. F. 
 
 7 * 
 
7 S 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY 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 follows 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. 
 
 79 
 
 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 effects of desolating wars.” 
 
 “ ACROSTIC, 
 
 “ Sent to Benjamin Franklin in New England, July 15th, 1710 : 
 
 “Be to thy parents an obedient son ; 
 
 Each day let duty constantly be done ; 
 
 Never give way to sloth, or lust, or pride, 
 
 If free you’d be from thousand ills beside ; 
 
 Above all ills be sure avoid the shelf ; 
 
 Man’s danger lies in Satan, sin, and self. 
 
 In virtue, learning, wisdom, progress make ; 
 
 Ne’er shrink at suffering for thy Saviour’s sake. 
 
 “ Fraud and all falsehood 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 friend ; 
 
 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 years old. 
 It would appear that he had received from him some evidence of his 
 juvenile skill in composition : 
 
8o 
 
 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 
 
 “ Sent to Benjamin Franklin, 1713 : 
 
 “ ’Tis time for me to throw aside my pen, 
 
 When hanging sleeves read, write, and rhyme like men. 
 
 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 ! 
 
 If trees good fruit un’noculated bear, 
 
 You may be sure ’twill afterward be rare. 
 
 If fruits are sweet before they’re time to yellow, 
 
 How luscious will they be when they are mellow 1 
 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 Marcoe ; William, who married Catha- 
 rine Wistar ; Deborah, who married William J. Duane; Richard, who 
 married a daughter of Alexander J. Dallas ; Sarah, who married Thomas 
 Sargeant, together with their children. B. 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 81 
 
 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 1715. 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 1716 
 or 1717, 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, 
 
 U 
 
 D * 
 
 B. 
 
 B. Franklin. 
 
82 
 
 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 was turned 
 down again upon its feet, when the Bible remained 
 concealed under it as before. This anecdote I had 
 from my uncle Benjamin. The family continued 
 all of the Church of England till about the end of 
 Charles the Second’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 FR ANEMIA. S3 
 
 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 1 
 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 born 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 re- 
 corded under the date of January 6th, 1706. At this time his father 
 occupied a house in Milk street, opposite to the Old South Church, 
 but he removed shortly afterward to a house at the corner of Hanover 
 and Union streets, where it is believed he resided the remainder of his 
 life, and where the son passed his early years. — Sparks. 
 
84 
 
 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 I 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. 
 
 S5 
 
 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.” — Sparks. 
 
 8 
 
86 
 
 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- 
 age 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 wharff there fit for us to stand 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 87 
 
 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 wharf!'. Inquiry was made after the removers ; 
 we were discovered and complained of ; several of 
 us w'ere 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, hewas never 
 employed, the numerous family he had to educate 
 
ss 
 
 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 indifferent what kind of food 
 was set before me, and so unobservant of it, that to 
 this day if I am asked I can scarce tell a few hours 
 after dinner what I dined upon. This has been a 
 convenience to me in travelling, where my 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. 
 
 89 
 
 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. bom 1655, died 1744, yEtat 89. 
 
 A. F. born 1667, died 1752, S5.* 
 
 * 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 
 8 * 
 
9 ° 
 
 A UTOBIO GRAPH T OF 
 
 By my rambling digressions I perceive myself 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. MDCCVI., 
 
 Erected this 
 Obelisk 
 
 Over the grave of his parents, 
 
 MDCCCXXVII. 
 
 A silver plate was deposited under the corner-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. ” — Sparks. 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 9» 
 
 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. My 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 
 
9 2 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 out in books. Pleased with the Pilgrim’s Progress, 
 my first collection was of John Banyan’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 little library consisted 
 chiefly of books in polemic divinity, most of which 
 I read, and have since often regretted that, at a time 
 when I had such a thirst for knowledge, more proper 
 books had not fallen in my way, since it was now 
 resolved I should not be a clergyman. Plutarch’s 
 Lives there was in which I read abundantly, and I 
 still think that time spent to great advantage. There 
 was also a book of De Foe’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- 
 ing that had an influence on some of the principal 
 future events of my life. 
 
 This bookish inclination at length determined my 
 father to make me a printer, though he had already 
 one son (James) of that profession. In 1717 m y 
 brother James returned from England with a press 
 and letters to set up his business in Boston. I liked 
 it much better than that of my father, but still had a 
 hankering for the sea. To prevent the apprehended 
 effect of such an inclination, my father was 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. 
 
 93 
 
 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 
 
94 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 me verse-makers were generally beggars. So I 
 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 extremely disagreeable in company by 
 the contradiction that is necessary to bring it into 
 practice ; and thence, besides souring and spoiling 
 the conversation, is productive of disgusts and, 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, university 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. 
 
 95 
 
 of words ; and sometimes, as I thought, bore me 
 down more by his fluency than by the strength of 
 his reasons. As we parted without settling the 
 point, and were not to see one another again for 
 some time, I sat down to put my arguments in 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 
 
9 6 
 
 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 well 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 f 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, f discovered many faults 
 and amended them ; but I sometimes had the pleasure 
 of fancying that, in certain particulars of small im- 
 port, I had been lucky enough to improve the 
 method or the language, and this encouraged me to 
 think 1 might possibly in time come to be a tolerable 
 English writer, of which I was extreamly ambitious. 
 My time for these exercises and for reading was at 
 night, after work or before it began in the morning, 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 97 
 
 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 16 years of age I happened to 
 meet with a book, written by one Tryon, 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 Try on’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 greatei 
 
 9 E 
 
9§ 
 
 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 I 
 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 Thinking, by Messrs, du Port Royal.* 
 
 * Cabanis, in the notice which he prepared of Franklin 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. Pie was ravished by 
 them. He read them over many times. They were one of the French 
 books he most esteemed .” — CEuvres Complets , 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 
 conlributed 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, I 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 weapon 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 99 
 
 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 Collins, become a real doubter in 
 many points of our religious doctrine, I found this 
 method safest for myself and very embarassing to 
 those against 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 because 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 writing can bind, and when 
 you think you have finished with them, they come with demands after 
 demands, sans fin. He was continually saying of himself, Je suis honnete 
 homme, je suis honnete homme. But I always suspected he was mis- 
 taken ; and so it proves.” 
 
IOO 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY 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 n^self in 
 terms of modest diffidence ; never using, when I 
 advanced any thing that may possibly be disputed, 
 the words certainly , undoubtedly , or any others that 
 give the air of positiveness to an opinion ; but 
 rather say, I conceive or apprehend a thing to be so 
 and so ; it appears to me, or I should think it so or 
 so, for such and such reasons ; or I imagine it to be 
 so; or it is so, if I am not mistaken. This habit, I 
 believe, has been of great advantage to me when I 
 have had occasion to inculcate my opinions, and 
 persuade men into measures that I have been from 
 time to time engag’d in promoting ; and, as the chief 
 ends of conversation are to inform or to be informed, 
 to -please or to persuade, I wish well-meaning, 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 yet at the 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 IOI 
 
 same time express yourself as firmly fix’d in your 
 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 'pleasing your hearers, or to persuade 
 those whose concurrence you desire. Pope says, 
 judiciously : 
 
 “ Men should be taught as if you taught them not , 
 
 And things unknown propos' d as things forgot 
 
 farther recommending 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 zvant 
 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 print 
 a newspaper. It was the second that appeared in 
 America, and was called the New England Courant. 
 
102 
 
 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 likely 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, which gain’d it credit and made it more 
 in demand, and these gentlemen often visited us. 
 Hearing their conversations, and their accounts of 
 the approbation their papers were 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 Mercury, at Phila- 
 delphia, December 22d, 1719 ; the New England Courant, August 2lst, 
 1721. 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 published 
 in America.” — Sparks. 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 103 
 
 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 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 104 
 
 was either generally in the right, or else a better 
 pleader, because the judgment was generally in my 
 favor. But my brother was passionate, and had 
 often beaten me, which I took extreamly amiss ; 
 and, thinking my apprenticeship very tedious, I 
 was continually wishing for some opportunity of 
 shortening it, which at length offered in a manner 
 unexpected.* 
 
 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 tyrannical treatment of me might be a means 
 of impressing me with that aversion to arbitrary power that has stunk 
 to me through my whole life. 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 105 
 
 order of the House (a very odd one), that “ 'James 
 Franklin should no longer -print the paper called 
 the New England C our ant .” 
 
 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 
 
106 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 otherwise not an ill-natur’d man : perhaps I was 
 too saucy and provoking. 
 
 When he found I would leave him, he took care 
 to prevent my getting employment in any other 
 printing-house of the town, by going round and 
 speaking to every master, who accordingly refus’d 
 to give me work. I then thought of going to New 
 York, as the nearest place where there was a printer ; 
 and I was 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. 
 
 107 
 
 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. — B. 
 
io8 
 
 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 company 
 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 ; 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 surd' 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, 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 109 
 
 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 day, 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 myself 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 
 soak’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 
 Burlington, kept by one Dr. Brown. He entered 
 10 
 
I IO 
 
 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. 
 
 1 1 1 
 
 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 dirty 
 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 
 
I 12 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 refus’d it, on account of my rowing ; but I insisted 
 on theif taking it. A man being sometimes more 
 generous when he has but a little money than when 
 he has plenty, perhaps thro’ fear of being thought 
 to have but little. 
 
 Then I 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 puffy rolls. I was surpriz’d 
 at the quantity, but took it, and, having no room in 
 my pockets, walk’d off with a roll under each arm, 
 and eating the other. Thus I went up Market-street 
 as far as Fourth-street, passing by the door of Mr. 
 Read, my future wife’s father; when she, standing 
 at the door, saw me, and thought I made, as I 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, being 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 ”3 
 
 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 
 that entertains strangers, but it is not a reputable 
 house ; if thee wilt walk with me, I’ll show thee a 
 better. He brought me to the Crooked Billet in 
 Water-street. Here I got a dinner ; and, while I 
 was eating it, several sly questions were 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 
 10 * 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 ”4 
 
 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. 
 
 "5 
 
 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. 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 II 6 
 
 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 ; 
 was 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 Camisards or Pro- 
 testants of the Cevennes, so persecuted by Louis XIV. — B. 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 1 1 7 
 
 me back again much sooner than I had intended. 
 I had a brother-in-law, Robert Holmes, master of a 
 sloop that traded between Boston and Delaware. 
 He being at Newcastle, forty miles below 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, 
 
1 18 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 Fi-ench 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- 
 vailing 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 gover- 
 nor sending for me now and then to dine with him, 
 a very great honor I thought it, and conversing 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 119 
 
 with me in the most affable, familiar, 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 
 
120 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPIIT 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. 
 
 121 
 
 My friend 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 I had been 
 able to obtain so advantageous a character from a 
 person of such note where I had resided, and that 
 I had been so industrious and careful as to equip 
 myself so handsomely in so short a time ; therefore, 
 seeing no prospect of an accommodation between 
 my brother and me, he gave his consent to my 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-twenty to set me up ; and that, if I came near 
 the matter, he would help me out with the rest. This 
 was all I could obtain, except some small gifts as 
 tokens of his and my mother’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, 
 n F 
 
122 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 I visited my brother John, who had been married 
 and settled there some years. He received me very 
 affectionately, 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 
 see 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 some 
 things she had observ’d and heard that had escap’d 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 t2 3 
 
 my notice, but now convinc’d me she was right. I 
 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 
 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 es- 
 cap’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 
 I heard from others, that he had been drunk every 
 day since his arrival at New York, and behav’d 
 
124 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY 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 Horne, 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 ever 
 brought himself into difficulties by an inordinate care of souls ; and I 
 am sure that makes no part of your commission.” 
 
 For the best account of this worthy man, see Whitehead’s Contribu- 
 tions to East Jersey History , pp. 156-168. — B. 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 I2 5 
 
 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 
 in his turn. “I will be row’d home,” says he. 
 “We will not row you,” says I. “You must, or 
 stay all night on the water,” says he, “just as you 
 n * 
 
126 
 
 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. 
 
 127 
 
 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.” 1 agreed that this might be 
 
123 
 
 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 oft' 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 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 vege- 
 table diet. So convenient a thing it is to be a rea- 
 sonable creature , since it enables one to find oi 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 129 
 
 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 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 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,” 
 
 F * 
 
I 3° 
 
 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 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 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 13 1 
 
 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 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 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 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 
 
IV 
 
 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. 
 
 r 33 
 
 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 !” 
 When we next met, Ralph discovered the trick we 
 had plaid him, and Osborne was a little laught at. 
 
 12 
 
*34 
 
 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 Pope 
 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 iii. line 165. 
 
 To this the poet adds the following note : 
 
 “James Ralph, a name inserted after the first editions, not known till 
 he writ a swearing-piece called Sawney, very abusive of Dr. Swift, 
 Mr. Gay and myself. These lines 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 Arnal, 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 the poet appends the following note : 
 
 “ Gazetteers . — A band of ministerial writers hired at the price men- 
 tioned in the note on book II, 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 Pope 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. 
 
 r 35 
 
 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 the 
 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 io, 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 and win without a bribe.” — B. 
 
136 
 
 A UTOBIGGRAPHT 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. 137 
 
 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- 
 ent, and we proceeded on our voyage. We had a 
 12 * 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 I3S 
 
 sociable company in the cabin, and lived 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 turn’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 
 his sincerity. I found my friend Denham, and 
 
 * Evidently intended for “ some.” — 15. 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 r 39 
 
 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, I 
 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 of a governor’s playing 
 
140 
 
 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 pleased 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. — B. 
 
V 
 
 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 141 
 
 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 
 vacancy. 
 
 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 “ Religion of 
 Nature.” Some of his reasonings not appearing to 
 me well founded, I wrote a little metaphysical piece 
 in which I made remarks on them. It was entitled 
 “ A Dissertation on Liberty and Necessity, Pleasure 
 and Pain.” I inscribed it to my friend Ralph ; I 
 printed a small number. It occasion’d my being 
 more consider’d by Mr. Palmer as a young man 
 of some ingenuity, tho’ he seriously expostulated 
 
142 
 
 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 
 door. He had an immense collection of second- 
 hand books. Circulating libraries were not then in 
 use ; but we agreed that, on certain reasonable 
 terms, which I have now forgotten, I might take, 
 read, and return any of his books. This I esteem’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 
 Newton, of which I was extreamely desirous ; but 
 this never happened. 
 
 I had brought over a few curiosities, among which 
 
 * No copy of this tract is now known to be in existence. See Frank- 
 lin to Vaughan, Sparks' Works of Franklin, vol. viii. p. 405. — B. 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 M3 
 
 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 
 
 * The following letter to Sir Hans Sloane is published in the Sparks’ 
 Collection of Correspondence, Works of Franklin, vol. vii. p. i. Frank- 
 lin was then 19 years of age : 
 
 “London, 2 June, 1725. 
 
 “ Sir : Having latety been in the northern parts of America, I have 
 brought from thence a purse made of the Asbetos, a piece of the stone, 
 and a piece of the wood, the pithy part of which is of the same nature, 
 and called by the inhabitants Salamander Cotton. As you are noted to 
 be a lover of curiosities, I have informed you of thesfe ; 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.” — B. 
 
i 4 4 
 
 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 Muses with 
 any hope of advancement by them.* All was 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. 
 
 H5 
 
 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 full conscious of his injur’d purse, 
 
 Lintot relents, nor Cecil 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 burn 
 The noblest works, his envy’d genius writ, 
 
 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 ! 
 
 Fontaine and Chaucer, dying, wish’d unwrote 
 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, voh iii. Epist. ii., p. 70. — B. 
 
 13 
 
 G 
 
146 
 
 A UTOBIO GRAPH T 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 little 
 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 work- 
 men. My companion at the press drank every day 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 147 
 
 a pint before breakfast, a pint at breakfast with his 
 bread and cheese, a pint between breakfast and 
 dinner, a pint at dinner, a pint in the afternoon 
 about six o’clock, and another when he had done 
 his day’s work. I thought it a detestable custom ; 
 but it was necessary, he suppos’d, to drink strong 
 beer, that he might be strong to labor. I endeavored 
 to convince him that the bodily strength afforded by 
 beer could only be in proportion to the grain or flour 
 of the barley dissolved in the water of which it was 
 made ; that there was more flour in a pennyworth 
 of bread ; and therefore, if he would eat that with a 
 pint of water, it would give him more strength than 
 a quart of beer. He drank on, however, and had 
 four or five shillings to pay out of his wages every 
 Saturday night for that muddling liquor ; an expense 
 I was free from. And thus these poor devils keep 
 themselves always under. 
 
 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 I were ever so little out of the room, and all 
 ascribed to the chappel ghost, which they said ever 
 
148 
 
 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 with 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 entirety 
 in the United States.” — W. T. F. 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 H9 
 
 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 riggite, 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 
 13 * 
 
15° AUTOBIOGRAPHY 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. 
 
 l 5 I 
 
 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. “I have ask’d 
 her,” says my landlady, “ how she, as she liv’d, 
 could possiby 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, 
 
r 5 2 
 
 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 delighted 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 53 
 
 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 
 
 G * 
 
x 54 
 
 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. 
 
 155 
 
 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 1 787 ; the original is probably lost. See Sparks' Memoir of Fra?ik- 
 lin. Appendix II. — B. 
 
AUTOBIO GRAPH T OF 
 
 * 5 $ 
 
 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 counselfd 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, 172-f-, 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 for- 
 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 employment under 
 him ended. 
 
 My brother-in-law, Holmes, being now at Phila- 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 157 
 
 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 solid 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 
 u 
 
A UTOBIO GRAPH Y OF 
 
 158 
 
 for a compositor, of whom more presently ; and 
 David Harry, a country boy, whom he had taken 
 apprentice. 
 
 I 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 gowm 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. 
 
 x 59 
 
 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 (economist. 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, 
 
i6o 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY 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 went 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. 161 
 
 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 I 
 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- 
 14 * 
 
1 62 
 
 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 remain’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 I 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. 
 
 163 
 
 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 
 
164 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY 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. 
 
 165 
 
 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 wisdom, 
 goodness and power, concluded that nothing could 
 possibly be wrong in the world, and that vice and 
 virtue were empty distinctions, no such things 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 infinitely 
 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 
 friends, 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, ha\ie at times made use of prayer.’ Thence I reasoned, 
 that if all things are ordained, prayer must among the rest be ordained. 
 But 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 
 I found in metaphysical reasonings disgusted me, and I quitted that 
 kind of reading and study for others more satisfactory.” — B. 
 
1 66 A UTOBIOGRAPH T OF 
 
 in g, 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 truth , 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. — B. 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 167 
 
 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 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 1 68 
 
 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. 
 
 169 
 
 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- 
 ject 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. 
 
 15 11 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 170 
 
 William Parsons, 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 philosophy, morality, and politics that 
 then existed in the province ; for our queries, which 
 were read the week preceding their discussion, put 
 us upon reading with attention 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 I 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 171 
 
 shall have frequent occasion to speak further of 
 hereafter.* 
 
 * In a careful and interesting paper read before the American 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 w 7 as, 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 
 
 “ 1 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. 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 172 
 
 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 find 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 observations 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 are 
 able to crawl together.’ ” 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 J 73 
 
 exerting: themselves in recommending business to us. 
 
 o o 
 
 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 formerly 
 enjoyed.” To this letter Franklin answers 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 an 
 error, proper for us to be warned against and avoid ? 
 
 * Sparks' Works of Franklin, vol. ii. p. 9. 
 
 ] 5 * 
 
r 74 
 
 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 yonr 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 arrived 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- 
 vice of the Junto may be of service ? 
 
 22. What benefits have you lately received from any man not pre- 
 sent ? 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 J 75 
 
 work’d exceeingly 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 ?” — B. 
 
1 76 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY 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. 
 
 177 
 
 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 in 
 hand directly ; and it prov’d in a few years ex- 
 tremely profitable to me.* 
 
 * This paper was called The Universal I>utructor in all Arts and 
 Sciences and Pennsylvania Gazette. Keimer printed his last number, the 
 39th, on the 25th day of September, 1729. — B. 
 
 II * 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 I 7 S 
 
 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. Burnet 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 
 office, 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 creditors, etc., etc. 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 179 
 
 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. 
 
 “ U pon 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 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 I So 
 
 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 as agreeable and 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. — B. 
 
 * 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 rewarding 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 own 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 181 
 
 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 new r s. 
 
 “ 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 w'ith 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. 
 
 16 
 
182 
 
 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 differ- 
 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 ^500 [marg. note]. 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 1S3 
 
 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 this 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 upon myself, if that 
 should be practicable ; but they did not like my 
 continuing the partnership with Meredith, who, as 
 they said, was often seen drunk in the 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 
 
184 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 to my partner, “ Perhaps your father is dissatisfied 
 at the part you have undertaken in this affair of 
 ours, and is unwilling to advance for you and me 
 what he would for you 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 unwilling 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 recurr’d to my two 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 185 
 
 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 oft' 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. — Sparks. 
 
 16 * 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 i86 
 
 Our debates possess’d me so fully of the subject, 
 that I wrote and printed an anonymous pamphlet on 
 it, entitled “ The Nature and Necessity of a Pamper 
 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 tit 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. 187 
 
 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 with books, and I went on 
 swimmingly. In the mean time, Keimer’s credit 
 and business declining daily, he was at last forc’d 
 to sell his printing-house to satisfy his creditors. He 
 
iS8 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 went to 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. 
 I was at first apprehensive of a powerful rival in 
 Harry, as his friends were very able, and had a good 
 deal of interest. I therefore propos’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-office, 
 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. 
 
 189 
 
 him, and a disadvantage to me; for, tho’ I did 
 indeed receive and send papers by the post, yet the 
 publick opinion was otherwise, for what I did send 
 was by bribing the riders, who took them privately, 
 Bradford being unkind enough to forbid it, which 
 occasion’d some resentment on my part ; and I 
 thought so meanly of him for it, that, when I 
 afterward came into his situation, I took care never 
 to imitate it. 
 
 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 sei'ious 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. 
 I let her know that I expected as much money with 
 their daughter as would pay off my remaining debt 
 for the printing-house, which I believe was not then 
 above a hundred pounds. She brought me word 
 they had no such sum to spare ; I said they might 
 mortgage their house in the loan-office. The an- 
 swer to this, after some days, was, that they did not 
 approve the match ; that, on inquiry of Bradford, 
 they had been inform’d the printing business was 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 190 
 
 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 change of sentiment or 
 only artifice, on a supposition of our being too far 
 engaged in affection to retract, and therefore that 
 we should steal a marriage, which would leave them 
 at liberty to give or withhold what they 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 ; 
 but 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 
 
BENJA MIN FRA NKL IN. 1 9 1 
 
 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 lodging 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 difficulties, and I took her to wife, Sep- 
 tember 1 st, i73°- 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 
 
192 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 happy. 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 faults 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 
 she 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,” written 
 for the Junto. It has been printed in Professor McVickar’s Life of Dr. 
 Samuel Bard : 
 
 “ My Plain Country Joan ; 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 that 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 ; 
 
 I beauty admire, but virtue I prize, 
 
 That fades not in seventy year. 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 193 
 
 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 my 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.” — B. 
 
 I 
 
 17 
 
i 9 4 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 each owned the whole. It was lik’d and agreed 
 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 was the 
 mother of all the North American subscription 
 libraries, now so numerous. It is become a gi'eat 
 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 
 
 ✓ 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 * 9 * 
 
 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 fames , with Notes of my 
 Life ( received in Paris'). 
 
 “ IV J Y Dear and Honored Friend: I have 
 1V1 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 busy-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 
 
 196 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 197 
 
 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 : 
 
 17 * 
 
198 
 
 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 to 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 country, which will very 
 much tend to invite to it settlers of virtuous and 
 manly minds. And considering the eagerness with 
 which such information is sought by them, and the 
 extent of your reputation, I do not know of a more 
 efficacious advertisement than your biography would 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 i 99 
 
 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 De 
 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 
 
200 
 
 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. 
 
 201 
 
 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 much fixed to the moment, we 
 
202 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY 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. 
 
 203 
 
 ing their 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 
 
204 
 
 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. 
 
 205 
 
 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 my 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- 
 
 1S 
 
206 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 plying 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 uncertain, and 
 having just now a little leisure, I will endeavor to 
 recollect and write what 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 public 
 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 oblig’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. 207 
 
 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 increasing them. So few were the readers 
 at that time in Philadelphia, and the majority of us 
 so poor, that I was not able, with great industry, to 
 find more than fifty persons, mostly young trades- 
 men, willing to pay down for this purpose forty 
 shillings each, and ten shillings per annum. On 
 this little 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. 
 
2oS 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 number 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 Dr. James Logan, and by an- 
 nual purchases, the Philadelphia Library now numbers between 70,00c 
 and 80,000 volumes. — B. 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 209 
 
 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 
 I had to contend with for business two printers, 
 who were established in the place before me. My 
 circumstances, however, grew daily easier. My 
 original habits of frugality continuing, and my father 
 having, among his instructions to me when a boy, 
 frequently repeated a proverb of Solomon, “ 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 of 
 Ovid in his banishment : “ Crede mihi , bene qui latnit bene vixit." This 
 line was subsequently adopted as his motto by the illustrious authoT 
 of the Cartesian philosophy. — Tristia Elegia, iv. 25. 
 
 18 * 
 
210 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 ally stand before king's , which, however, has since 
 happened ; for I have stood before five, and even 
 had the honoi of sitting down with one, the King 
 of Denmark, to dinner. 
 
 We have an English proverb that says, “ He that 
 zvould thrive, must ask his -wife” It was lucky for 
 me that I had one as much dispos’d to industry 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 families, 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. 
 
 21 I 
 
 sion, such as the eternal decrees of God , election, 
 reprobation, etc., appeared to me unintelligible, 
 others doubtful, and I early absented myself from 
 the public assemblies of the sect, Sunday being my 
 studying day, I never was without some religious 
 principles. I never doubted, for instance, the 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 
 
212 
 
 A UTOBIO GRAPHT 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 trzie , honest, just, jure, 
 lovely, or of good report, 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. 
 
 213 
 
 meeting with them from any other, was disgusted, 
 and attended his preaching no more. I had some 
 years before compos’d a little 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 
 public assemblies. 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. I 
 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.” — Sparks' Works of Franklin, vol. vii. p. 269. — B. 
 
214 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY 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 rectitude 
 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 time 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. 
 
 3I 5 
 
 i. Temperance. 
 
 Eat not to dullness ; drink not to elevation. 
 
 2. Silence. 
 
 Speak not but what may benefit others or )^our- 
 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; i. e., waste nothing. 
 
 6. Industry. 
 
 Lose no time ; be always employ’d in something 
 useful ; cut off all unnecessary actions. 
 
 7. Sincerity. 
 
 Use no hurtful deceit ; think innocently and justly ; 
 and, if you speak, speak accordingly. 
 
 8. Justice. 
 
 Wrong none by doing injuries, or omitting the 
 benefits that are your duty. 
 
2l6 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 9. Moderation. 
 
 Avoid extreams ; forbear resenting injuries so 
 much as you think they deserve. 
 
 10. Cleanliness. 
 
 Tolerate no uncleanliness in body, 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. 
 
 217 
 
 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 or bed-time, that we may conclude the action of the day 
 19 K 
 
2lS 
 
 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? 
 What have I done ? What duty have I omitted ? So shall we measure 
 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 commit 
 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 as 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. 
 
 219 
 
 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 the 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 itself. 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.” — B. 
 
 * This “little book” is dated 1st of July, 1733. — W. T. F. 
 
220 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Form of the pages. 
 
 TEMPERANCE. 
 
 EAT NOT TO DULNESS ; 
 
 DRINK NOT TO ELEVATION. 
 
 
 S. 
 
 M. 
 
 T. 
 
 W. 
 
 T. 
 
 F. 
 
 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 Temperance, 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 com pleat in thirteen weeks, and four 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 221 
 
 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 vitae Philosophia dux ! O virtutum indagatrix expultrixque vitio- 
 rum ! Unus dies, bene et ex praeceptis 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 thought it right and necessary to solicit his assist- 
 ance for obtaining it ; to this end I formed the 
 19 * 
 
222 
 
 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 offices 
 to thy other children as tlce only return in my power for thy continual 
 favours to me.” 
 
 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, vaftity, 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 ? 
 
 Rise, wash, and address Pow- 
 erful Goodness! Contrive day’s 
 “■ business, and take the resolution 
 of the day ; prosecute the pre- 
 sent study, and breakfast. 
 
 Noon. 
 
 Work. 
 
 Read, or over'ook my ac- 
 counts, and dine. 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 Work. 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 223 
 
 Evening. 
 
 Question. What good have I 
 done to-day ? 
 
 Night. 
 
 6 Put things in their places. 
 
 7 Supper. Music or diversion, 
 
 8 or conversation. Examination 
 
 9 J of the day. 
 
 10 
 
 11 
 
 12 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 • Sleep. 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 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 ; 
 
224 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY 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 1 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 225 
 
 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 “ a speckled 
 ax was best;” for something, that pretended to be 
 reason, w'as 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, 
 
 K * 
 
226 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 down to his 79*h 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’ my scheme was not 
 wholly without religion, there was in it no mark of 
 any of the distinguishing tenets of any particular 
 sect. I had purposely avoided them ; for, being 
 fully persuaded of the utility and excellency of my 
 method, and that it might be serviceable to people 
 in all religions, and intending some time or other to 
 
 * This was written, therefore, in 1785, the year the Doctor returned 
 from Paris. — B. 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 227 
 
 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. 
 
228 
 
 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 abearance 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. 
 
 229 
 
 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, I conceive, I apprehend, or I 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 appear’d or seem’d 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- 
 20 
 
2 3 ° 
 
 A UTOBIO GRAPH T. 
 
 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 carried my points. 
 
 In reality, there is, perhaps, no one of our natural 
 passions so hard to subdue as jiride. 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.] 
 
[“ I am now about to write at home , August , 
 1788, but can not have the help expected from 
 my papers , many of them being lost in the war. 
 I have j hozvevcr, found the following .”] * 
 
 H AVING mentioned « 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. — B. 
 
 231 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 23 2 
 
 “ 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 carrying 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. 
 
 2 33 
 
 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. 
 
 20 * 
 
2 34 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY 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 . 
 
 235 
 
 man of tolerable abilities may work great changes, 
 and accomplish great affairs among mankind, if he 
 first forms a good plan, and, cutting oft' 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. 1 were 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, eta ; 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; Bachelor’s 
 Folly; Parson’s Wine and Baker’s Pudding ; Short Visits : Kings and 
 Bears ; New Fashions ; Game for Kisses ; Katherine’s Love ; Different 
 Sentiments ; Signs of a Tempest ; Death of a Fisherman ; Conjugal De- 
 bate ; 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. , for some years the publisher of a New York Directory. 
 
 At his death, however, the collection, I am told, became dispersed. — B. 
 
22,6 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 neighborhood in the province being without it, I 
 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 means of 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 up- 
 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 37 
 
 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 with private altercation, in which they had 
 no concern, without doing them manifest injustice. 
 
2 3 S 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY 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. 
 
 2.39 
 
 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 together considerable numbers of dif- 
 ferent persuasions, who join’d in admiring them. 
 Among 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 
 Presbyterians, disapprov’d his doctrine, and were 
 join’d by most of the old clergy, who arraign’d 
 
2.[0 
 
 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, I 
 lent him my pen and wrote for him two or three 
 pamphlets, and one piece in the Gazette of April, 
 1:735. 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 
 by 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. 
 
 241 
 
 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 
 21 L 
 
242 
 
 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 some 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. 
 
 2 43 
 
 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 from 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 contributes 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 fruits of a 
 public school. In the space of two years (1749, 1750), interrupted by 
 danger and debility, I painfully 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.” — B. 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 244 
 
 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. 
 
 H5 
 
 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 
 21 * 
 
246 
 
 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. 247 
 
 This is another instance of the truth of an old maxim 
 I had learned, which says, il Ile that has once done 
 you a kindness -will be more ready to do you an- 
 other, than he zvhom you yourself have obliged .” 
 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. My 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, 
 that 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. 
 
248 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY 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. 249 
 
 approv'd by the Junto, was communicated to the 
 other clubs, 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 
 
250 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY 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 pri- 
 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 1791. 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 two 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. 
 
 251 
 
 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- 
 paratus and the Philadelphia Fire Department, between the years 1701 
 and 1802, written for the Philadelphia Sunday Dispatch, by Thompson 
 W estcott. 
 
 “ 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 will 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 
 
252 
 
 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 more 
 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.” — B. 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 3 53 
 
 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- 
 22 
 
2 5 + 
 
 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. 
 
 2 55 
 
 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 Hoftkinson, I would lend to thee 
 freely ; but 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 
 
256 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 suspicion of his integrity, but am to this day de- 
 cidedly of opinion that he was in all his conduct a 
 perfectly honest ?nan; 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 which 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, you 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 yotir 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 57 
 
 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 
 of Market-street, and on the west sideof 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, 
 22 * 
 
258 
 
 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 scrijita 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. 
 
 3 59 
 
 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 frst hun- 
 dred -pound , it is 7)iore easy to get the second ,” 
 money itself being of a prolific nature. 
 
 The partnership at Carolina 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. 
 
2(5o 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 I had, on the whole, abundant reason to be satis- 
 fied with my being established 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, in 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. 
 
 261 
 
 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- 
 ing investigations in botany ; in medicine ; in mineralogy and mining ; 
 in 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, 
 sit 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 
 
262 
 
 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 
 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 writer 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 Colden, 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 following 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. 
 
 263 
 
 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. — B. 
 
264 
 
 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. 265 
 
 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, I 
 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 
 
 23 M 
 
266 
 
 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 office, 
 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 
 refxise , 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. 
 
 267 
 
 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 joro 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’ w r e thought that some of the Quakers would 
 join us, we were by no means sure of a majority. 
 
26S 
 
 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. They 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 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 269 
 
 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 inclin’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 com- 
 23 * 
 
270 
 
 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 Friends , especially as it had not been 
 required by the captain. This reproof, being before 
 all the company, piqu’d the secretary, who answer’d, 
 “ I 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 Jight the ship when thee 
 thought there was danger .” 
 
 My being many years 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 military 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 “_/br 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 
 Louisburg), and the government of New England 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 271 
 
 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, 
 or 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 
 fire 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 fire-engine .” “ 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]. 
 
272 
 
 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 were 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. 
 
 273 
 
 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 “ An Account 
 of the new-invented Pennsylvania Fireplaces ; 
 
 wherein their Construction and Manner of Opera- 
 'll * 
 
274 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 tion is -particularly explained ; their Advantages 
 above every other Method of warming Rooms 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, zue 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 first 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 275 
 
 step I took was to associate in the design a number 
 of active friends, of whom the Junto furnished a good 
 part ; the next was to write and publish a pamphlet, 
 entitled Proposals relating to the Education of 
 Youth 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 
 ■puhlich-s^pirited gentlemen , 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, 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 -7 6 
 
 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 be- 
 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. 
 
 277 
 
 trustees had not been able to procure fresh contri 
 butions for 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 
 of 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 
 
 24 
 
278 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY 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 which 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 
 Ur. 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. 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 279 
 
 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 withdrew 
 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 
 
2So 
 
 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 bonfire 
 
 * See the votes to have this more correctly. — [Marg. note.] 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 281 
 
 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 
 every thing for some use , and whatever use he de- 
 sign'd any thing for , that use it should always be 
 ■put to. Now , when he made rum , he said, ‘ Let 
 this be 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, Dr. Thomas Bond, a particular friend 
 of mine, conceived the idea of establishing a hos- 
 pital in Philadelphia (a very beneficent design, 
 
 24 * 
 
282 
 
 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. 
 
 283 
 
 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 speaker of the Assembly for the time being , 
 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 
 
284 
 
 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 ; thus 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 was 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. 
 
 285 
 
 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 beautifull 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 
 
2S6 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY 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- 
 fit 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 day or two went round to see who 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 287 
 
 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 went 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 differing 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 above, but circulated in the globe, lodg’d on 
 
 * See votes. 
 
2SS 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 continu’d 
 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 I propos’d, when in London, to Dr. 
 Fothergill, who was among 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. 
 
 289 
 
 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 
 gi*eat 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 little 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 ; 
 at 12 she came for the shilling. From the slow- 
 ness I saw at first in her working, I could scarce 
 believe that 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. 
 
 25 N 
 
290 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY 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 here 
 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 usually opened, 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 291 
 
 when the scavengers, with close-covered carts, shall 
 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 
 lighter, 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 practicability 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 
 
292 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 littH 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. 
 
 293 
 
 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 
 England. 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. 
 
294 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 In 1754, war 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. 
 
 295 
 
 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 
 
296 
 
 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 forc'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. 22-55. 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 2 97 
 
 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 coun- 
 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 
 
29S 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY 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. 299 
 
 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. — [Marg. note.] 
 
3 °° 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 bend at last. At length Captain Denny, who was 
 Governor Morris’s successor, ventured to disobey 
 those instructions : how that was brought about I 
 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. Quincy labored hard with the governor to 
 obtain his assent, but he was obstinate. 
 
 I then suggested a method of doing the business 
 without the governor, by orders on the trustees of 
 the Loan Office, which, by law, the Assembly had 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 3 QI 
 
 the right of drawing. There was, indeed, little or 
 no money at that time in the office, and therefore I 
 propos’d that the orders should be payable in a year, 
 and to bear an interest of five per cent. With these 
 orders I suppos’d the provisions might easily be 
 purchas’d. The Assembly, with very little hesita- 
 tion, adopted the proposal. The orders were imme- 
 diately printed, and I was one of the committee 
 directed to sign and dispose of them. The fund 
 for paying them was the interest of all the paper 
 currency then extant in the province upon loan, 
 together with the revenue arising from the excise, 
 which being known to be more than sufficient, they 
 obtain’d instant credit, and were not only receiv’d 
 in payment for the provisions, but many money’d 
 people, who had cash lying by them, vested it in 
 those orders, which they found advantageous, as 
 they bore interest while upon hand, and might on 
 any occasion be used as money ; so that they were 
 eagerly all bought up, and in a few weeks none of 
 them were to be seen. Thus this important affair 
 was by my means compleated. Mr. Quincy re- 
 turn’d thanks to the Assembly in a handsome memo- 
 rial, went home highly pleas’d with the success of 
 his embassy, and ever after bore for me the most 
 cordial and affectionate friendship. 
 
 The British government, not chusing to permit 
 the union of the colonies as propos’d at Albany, and 
 to trust that union with their defense, lest they 
 should thereby grow too military, and feel their own 
 26 
 
3°2 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 strength, suspicions and jealousies at this time being 
 entertain’d of them, sent over General Braddock 
 with two regiments of regular English troops for 
 that purpose. He landed at Alexandria, in Virginia, 
 and thence march’d to Frederictown, in Maryland, 
 where he halted for carriages. Our Assembly ap- 
 prehending, from some information, that he had con- 
 ceived violent prejudices against them, as averse to 
 the service, wish’d me to wait upon him, not as 
 from them, but as postmaster-general, under the 
 guise of proposing to settle with him the mode of 
 conducting with most celerity and certainty the de- 
 spatches between him and the governors of the sev- 
 eral provinces, with whom he must necessarily have 
 continual correspondence, and of which they pro- 
 pos’d to pay the expense. My son accompanied 
 me on this journey. 
 
 We found the general at Frederictown, waiting 
 impatiently for the return of those he had sent thro’ 
 the back parts of Maryland and Virginia to collect 
 waggons. I stayed with him several days, din’d 
 with him daily, and had full opportunity of remov- 
 ing all his prejudices, by the information of what 
 the Assembly had before his arrival actually done, 
 and were still willing to do, to facilitate his opera- 
 tions. When I was about to depart, the returns of 
 waggons to be obtained were brought in, by which it 
 appear’d that they amounted only to twenty-five, and 
 not all of those were in serviceable condition. The 
 general and all the officers were surpris’d, declar’d 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 303 
 
 the expedition was then at an end, being impossible ; 
 and exclaim’d against the ministers for ignorantly 
 landing them in a country destitute of the means of 
 conveying their stores, baggage, etc., not less than 
 one hundred and fifty waggons being necessary. 
 
 I happen’d to say I thought it was pity they had 
 not been landed rather in Pennsylvania, as in that 
 country almost every farmer had his waggon. The 
 general eagerly laid hold of my words, and said, 
 “ Then you, sir, who are a man of interest there, 
 can probably procure them for us ; and I beg you 
 will undertake it.” I ask’d what terms were to be 
 offer’d the owners of the waggons ; and I was de- 
 sir’d to put on paper the terms that appeared to me 
 necessary. This I did, and they were agreed to, 
 and a commission and instructions accordingly pre- 
 par’d immediately. What those terms were will 
 appear in the advertisement I publish’d as soon as 
 I arriv’d at Lancaster, which being, from the great 
 and sudden effect it produc’d, a piece of some curi- 
 osity, I shall insert it at length, as follows : 
 
 ‘ ‘ Advertisement. 
 
 “ Lancaster, April 26, 1755. 
 
 “Whereas, one hundred and fifty waggons, with 
 four horses to each waggon, and fifteen hundred sad- 
 dle or pack horses, are wanted for the service of his 
 majesty’s forces now about to rendezvous at Will’s 
 Creek, and his excellency General Braddock having 
 been pleased to empower me to contract for the hire 
 
304 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 of the same, I hereby give notice that I shall attend 
 for that purpose at Lancaster from this day to next 
 Wednesday evening, and at York from next Thurs- 
 day morning till Friday evening, where I shall be 
 ready to agree for waggons and teams, or single 
 horses, on the following terms, viz. : 1. That there 
 shall be paid for each waggon, with four good horses 
 and a driver, fifteen shillings per diem ; and for each 
 able horse with a pack-saddle, or other saddle and 
 furniture, two shillings per diem ; and for each able 
 horse without a saddle, eighteen pence per diem. 
 2. That the pay commence from the time of their 
 joining the forces at Will’s Creek, which must be 
 on or before the 20th of May ensuing, and that a 
 reasonable allowance be paid over and above for the 
 time necessary for their travelling to Will’s Creek 
 and home again after their discharge. 3. Each 
 waggon and team, and every saddle or pack horse, 
 is to be valued by indifferent persons chosen be- 
 tween me and the owner ; and in case of the loss of 
 any waggon, team, or other horse in the service, the 
 price according to such valuation is to be allowed 
 and paid. 4. Seven days’ pay is to be advanced 
 and paid in hand by me to the owner of each waggon 
 and team, or horse, at the time of contracting, if 
 required, and the remainder to be paid by General 
 Braddock, or by the paymaster of the army, at the 
 time of their discharge, or from time to time, as it 
 shall be demanded. 5. No drivers of waggons, or 
 persons taking care of the hired horses, are on any 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 305 
 
 account to be called upon to do the duty of soldiers, 
 or be otherwise employed than in conducting or 
 taking care of their carriages or horses. 6. All oats, 
 Indian corn, or other forage that waggons or horses 
 bring to the camp, more than is necessary for the 
 subsistence of the horses, is to be taken for the use 
 of the army, and a reasonable price paid for the 
 same. 
 
 “Note. — My son, William Franklin, is empow- 
 ered to enter into like contracts with any person in 
 Cumberland county. B. Franklin.” 
 
 “ To the inhabitants of the Comities of Lancaster, 
 York, and Cumberland. 
 
 “ Friends and Countrymen, 
 
 “ Being occasionally at the camp at Frederic a 
 few days since, I found the general and officers ex- 
 tremely exasperated on account of their not being 
 supplied with horses and carriages, which had been 
 expected from this province, as most able to furnish 
 them ; but, through the dissensions between our 
 governor and Assembly, money had not been pro- 
 vided, nor any steps taken for that purpose. 
 
 “It was proposed to send an armed force imme- 
 diately into these counties, to seize as many of the 
 best carriages and horses as should be wanted, and 
 compel as many persons into the service as would 
 be necessary to drive and take care of them. 
 
 “ I apprehended that the progress of British sol- 
 diers through these counties on such an occasion, 
 26 * 
 
3°6 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 especially considering the temper they are in, and 
 their resentment against us, would be attended with 
 many and great inconveniences to the inhabitants, 
 and therefore more willingly took the trouble of 
 trying first what might be done by fair and equitable 
 means. The people of these back counties have 
 lately complained to the Assembly that a sufficient 
 currency was wanting ; you have an opportunity of 
 receiving and dividing among you a very consider- 
 able sum ; for, if the service of this expedition 
 should continue, as it is more than probable it will, 
 for one hundred and twenty days, the hire of these 
 waggons and horses will amount to upward of thirty 
 thousand pounds, which will be paid you in silver 
 and gold of the king’s money. 
 
 “The service will be light and easy, for the army 
 will scarce march above twelve miles per day, and 
 the waggons and baggage-horses, as they carry those 
 things that are absolutely necessary to the welfare 
 of the army, must march with the army, and no 
 faster ; and are, for the army’s sake, always placed 
 where they can be most secure, whether in a march 
 or in a camp. 
 
 “ If you are really, as I believe you are, good 
 and loyal subjects to his majesty, you may now do 
 a most acceptable service, and make it easy to your- 
 selves ; for three or four of such as can not separ- 
 ately spare from the business of their plantations a 
 waggon and four horses and a driver, may do it 
 together, one furnishing the waggon, another one or 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 307 
 
 two horses, and another the driver, and divide the 
 pay proportionally between you ; but if you do not 
 this service to your king and country voluntarily, 
 when such good pay and reasonable terms are 
 offered to you, your loyalty will be strongly sus- 
 pected. The king’s business must be done ; so 
 many brave troops, come so far for your defense, 
 must not stand idle through your backwardness to 
 do what may be reasonably expected from you ; 
 waggons and horses must be had ; violent measures 
 will probably be used, and you will be left to seek 
 for a recompense where you can find it, and your 
 case, perhaps, be little pitied or regarded. 
 
 “ I have no particular interest in this affair, as, 
 except the satisfaction of endeavoring to do good, I 
 shall have only my labor for my pains. If this 
 method of obtaining the waggons and horses is not 
 likely to succeed, I am obliged to send word to the 
 general in fourteen days; and I suppose Sir John 
 St. Clair, the hussar, with a body of soldiers, will 
 immediately enter the province for the purpose, 
 which I shall be sorry to hear, because I am very 
 sincerely and truly your friend and well-wisher, 
 
 “B. Franklin.” 
 
 I received of the general about eight hundred 
 pounds, to be disbursed in advance-money to the 
 waggon owners, etc. ; but that sum being insuffi- 
 cient, I advanc’d upward of two hundred pounds 
 more, and in two weeks the one hundred and fifty 
 
A UTOBIO GRAPH T OF 
 
 3° 8 
 
 waggons, with two hundred and fifty-nine carrying 
 horses, were on their march for the camp. The 
 advertisement promised payment according to the 
 valuation, in case any waggon or horse should be 
 lost. The owners, however, alleging they did not 
 know General Braddock, or what dependence might 
 be had on his promise, insisted on my bond for the 
 performance, which I accordingly gave them. 
 
 While I was at the camp, supping one evening 
 with the officers of Colonel Dunbar’s regiment, he 
 represented to me his concern for the subalterns, 
 who, he said, were generally not in affluence, and 
 could ill afford, in this dear country, to lay in the 
 stores that might be necessary in so long a march, 
 thro’ a wilderness, where nothing was to be pur- 
 chas’d. I commiserated their case, and resolved 
 to endeavor procuring them some relief. I said 
 nothing, however, to him of my intention, but wrote 
 the next morning to the committee of the Assembly, 
 who had the disposition of some public money, 
 warmly recommending the case of these officers to 
 their consideration, and proposing that a present 
 should be sent them of necessaries and refreshments. 
 My son, who had some experience of a camp life, 
 and of its wants, drew up a list for me, which I 
 enclos’d in my letter. The committee approv’d, 
 and used such diligence that, conducted by my 
 son, the stores arrived at the camp as soon as the 
 waggons. They consisted of twenty parcels, each 
 containing 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 3°9 
 
 6 lbs. loaf sugar. 
 
 6 lbs. good Muscovado do. 
 i lb. good green tea. 
 i lb. good bohea do. 
 
 6 lbs. good ground coffee. 
 
 6 lbs. chocolate. 
 
 1-2 cwt. best white biscuit. 
 
 1-2 lb. pepper. 
 
 i quart best white wine vinegar. 
 
 I Gloucester cheese. 
 
 1 kegg containing 20 lbs. good butter. 
 
 2 doz. old Madeira wine. 
 
 2 gallons Jamaica spirits. 
 
 1 bottle flour of mustard. 
 
 2 well-cur’d hams. 
 
 1-2 dozen dry’d tongues. 
 
 6 lbs. rice. 
 
 6 lbs. raisins. 
 
 These twenty parcels, well pack’d, were placed 
 on as many horses, each parcel, with the horse, 
 being intended as a present for one officer. They 
 were very thankfully receiv’d, and the kindness ac- 
 knowledg’d by letters to me from the colonels of 
 both regiments, in the most grateful terms. The 
 general, too, was highly satisfied with my conduct in 
 procuring him the waggons, etc., and readily paid my 
 account of disbursements, thanking me repeatedly, 
 and requesting my farther assistance in sending 
 provisions after him. I undertook this also, and 
 was busily employ’d in it till we heard of his defeat, 
 advancing for the service of my own money, upwards 
 of one thousand pounds sterling, of which I sent 
 him an account. It came to his hands, luckily for 
 me, a few days before the battle, and he return’d me 
 immediately an order on the paymaster for the round 
 sum of one thousand pounds, leaving the remainder 
 to the next account. I consider this payment as 
 good luck, having never been able to obtain that 
 remainder, of which more hereafter. 
 
 This general was, I think, a brave man, and 
 might probably have made a figure as a good officer 
 
3 IQ 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 in some European war. But he had too much self- 
 confidence, too high an opinion of the validity of 
 regular troops, and too mean a one of both Ameri- 
 cans and Indians. George Croghan, our Indian in- 
 terpreter, join’d him on his march with one hundred 
 of those people, who might have been of great use 
 to his army as guides, scouts, etc., if he had treated 
 them kindly ; but he slighted and neglected them, 
 and they gradually left him. 
 
 In conversation with him one day, he was giving 
 me some account of his intended progress. “ After 
 taking Fort Duquesne,” says he, “ I am to proceed 
 to Niagara ; and, having taken that, to Frontenac, 
 if the season will allow time ; and I suppose it will, 
 for Duquesne can hardly detain me above three or 
 four days ; and then I see nothing that can obstruct 
 my march to Niagara.” Having before revolv’d in 
 my mind the long line his army must make in their 
 march by a very narrow road, to be cut for them 
 thro’ the woods and bushes, and also what I had 
 read of a former defeat of fifteen hundred French, 
 who invaded the Iroquois country, I had conceiv’d 
 some doubts and some fears for the event of the 
 campaign. But I ventur’d only to say, “To be 
 sure, sir, if you arrive well before Duquesne, with 
 these fine troops, so well provided with artillery, 
 that place not yet compleatly fortified, and as we 
 hear with no very strong garrison, can probably 
 make but a short resistance. The only danger I 
 apprehend of obstruction to your march is from am- 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 3 ” 
 
 buscades of Indians, who, by constant practice, are 
 dexterous in laying and executing them ; and the 
 slender line, near four miles long, which your army 
 must make, may expose it to be attack’d by surprise 
 in its flanks, and to be cut like a thread into several 
 pieces, which, from their distance, can not come up 
 in time to support each other.” 
 
 He smil’d at my ignorance, and reply'd, “ These 
 savages may, indeed, be a formidable enemy to your 
 raw American militia, but upon the king’s regular 
 and disciplin’d troops, sir, it is impossible they should 
 make any impression.” I was conscious of an im- 
 propriety in my disputing with a military man in 
 matters of his profession, and said no more. The 
 enemy, however, did not take the advantage of his 
 army which I apprehended its long line of march 
 expos’d it to, but let it advance without interruption 
 till within nine miles of the place ; and then, when 
 more in a body (for it had just passed a river, where 
 the front had halted till all were come over) , and in 
 a more open part of the woods than any it had pass’d, 
 attack’d its advanced guard by a heavy fire from 
 behind trees and bushes, which was the first intel- 
 ligence the general had of an enemy’s being near 
 him. This guard being disordered, the general hur- 
 ried the troops up to their assistance, which was 
 done in great confusion, thro’ waggons, baggage, 
 and cattle ; and presently the fire came upon their 
 flank : the officers, being on horseback, were more 
 easily distinguish’d, pick’d out as marks, and fell 
 
312 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 very fast ; and the soldiers were crowded together 
 in a huddle, having or hearing no orders, and stand- 
 ing to be shot at till two-thirds of them were killed ; 
 and then, being seiz’d with a panick, the whole fled 
 with precipitation. 
 
 The waggoners took each a horse out of his team 
 and scamper’d ; their example was immediately fol- 
 lowed by others ; so that all the waggons, provisions, 
 artillery, and stores were left to the enemy. The 
 general, being wounded, was brought off with diffi- 
 culty ; his secretary, Mr. Shirley, was killed by his 
 side ; and out of eighty-six officers, sixty-three were 
 killed or wounded, and seven hundred and fourteen 
 men killed out of eleven hundred. These eleven 
 hundred had been picked men from the whole army ; 
 the rest had been left behind with Colonel Dunbar, 
 who was to follow with the heavier part of the 
 stores, provisions, and baggage. The flyers, not 
 being pursu’d, arriv’d at Dunbar’s camp, and the 
 panick they brought with them instantly seiz’d him 
 and all his people ; and, tho’ he had now above one 
 thousand men, and the enemy who had beaten 
 Braddock did not at most exceed four hundred 
 Indians and French together, instead of proceeding, 
 and endeavoring to recover some of the lost honour, 
 he ordered all the stores, ammunition, etc., to be 
 destroy’d, that he might have more horses to assist 
 his flight towards the settlements, and less lumber to 
 remove. He was there met with requests from the 
 governors of Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania, 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 3*3 
 
 that he would post his troops on the frontiers, so as 
 to afford some protection to the inhabitants ; but he 
 continu’d his hasty march thro’ all the country, not 
 thinking himself safe till he arriv’d at Philadelphia, 
 where the inhabitants could protect him. This 
 whole transaction gave us Americans the first sus- 
 picion that our exalted ideas of the prowess of 
 British regulars had not been well founded. 
 
 In their first march, too, from their landing till 
 they got beyond the settlements, they had plundered 
 and stripped the inhabitants, totally ruining some 
 poor families, besides insulting, abusing, and con- 
 fining the people if they remonstrated. This was 
 enough to put us out of conceit of such defenders, if 
 we had really wanted any. How different was the 
 conduct of our French friends in 1781, who, during 
 a march thro’ the most inhabited part of our country 
 from Rhode Island to Virginia, near seven hundred 
 miles, occasioned not the smallest complaint for the 
 loss of a pig, a chicken, or even an apple. 
 
 Captain Orme, who was one of the general’s 
 aids-de-camp, and, being grievously wounded, was 
 brought oft' with him, and continu’d with him to his 
 death, which happen’d in a few days, told me that 
 he was totally silent all the first day, and at night 
 only said, “ Who would have thought it P” That 
 he was silent again the following day, saying only 
 at last, “ We shall better know how to deal with 
 them another time and dy’d in a few minutes 
 after. 
 
 27 
 
 0 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 3*4 
 
 The secretary’s papers, with all the general’s or- 
 ders, instructions, and correspondence, falling into 
 the enemy’s hands, they selected and translated into 
 French a number of the articles, which they printed, 
 to prove the hostile intentions of the British court 
 before the declaration of war. Among these I saw 
 some letters of the general to the ministry, speaking 
 highly of the great service I had rendered the army, 
 and recommending me to their notice. David Hume, 
 too, who was some years after secretary to Lord 
 Hertford, when minister in France, and afterward 
 to General Conway, when secretary of state, told 
 me he had seen among the papers in that office, let- 
 ters from Braddock highly recommending me. But, 
 the expedition having been unfortunate, my service, 
 it seems, was not thought of much value, for those 
 recommendations were never of any use to me. 
 
 As to rewards from himself, I ask’d only one, 
 which was, that he would give orders to his officers 
 not to enlist any more of our bought servants, and 
 that he would discharge such as had been already 
 enlisted. This he readily granted, and several were 
 accordingly return’d to their masters, on my appli- 
 cation. Dunbar, when the command devolv’d on 
 him, was not so generous. He being at Philadel- 
 phia, on his retreat, or rather flight, I apply’d to him 
 for the discharge of the servants of three poor farmers 
 of Lancaster county that he had enlisted, reminding 
 him of the late general’s orders on that head. He 
 promised me that, if the masters would come to him 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 3*5 
 
 at Trenton, where he should be in a few days on 
 his march to New York, he would there deliver their 
 men to them. They accordingly were at the ex- 
 pense and trouble of going to Trenton, and there he 
 refus’d to perform his promise, to their great loss 
 and disappointment. 
 
 As soon as the loss of the waggons and horses was 
 generally known, all the owners came upon me for 
 the valuation which I had given bond to pay. Their 
 demands gave me a great deal of trouble, my ac- 
 quainting them that the money was ready in the 
 paymaster’s hands, but that orders for paying it must 
 first be otained from General Shirley, and my assur- 
 ing them that I had apply’d to that general by letter ; 
 but, he being at a distance, an answer could not 
 soon be receiv’d, and they must have patience, all 
 this was not sufficient to satisfy, and some began to 
 sue me. General Shirley at length relieved me from 
 this terrible situation by appointing commissioners 
 to examine the claims, and ordering payment. They 
 amounted to near twenty thousand pound, which to 
 pay would have ruined me. 
 
 Before we had the news of this defeat, the two 
 Doctors Bond came to me with a subscription paper 
 for raising money to defray the expense of a grand 
 firework, which it was intended to exhibit at a re- 
 joicing on receipt of the news of our taking Fort 
 Duquesne. I looked grave, and said it would, I 
 thought, be time enough to prepare for the rejoicing 
 when we knew we should have occasion to rejoice. 
 
3 l6 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 They seem’d surpris’d that I did not immediately 
 comply with their proposal. “Why the d — 1 !” says 
 one of them, “ you surely don’t suppose that the fort 
 will not be taken?” “ I don’t know that it will not 
 be taken, but I know that the events of war are sub- 
 ject to great uncertainty.” I gave them the reasons 
 of my doubting ; the subscription was dropt, and the 
 projectors thereby missed the mortification they 
 would have undergone if the firework had been pre- 
 pared. Dr. Bond, on some other occasion after- 
 ward, said that he did not like Franklin’s fore- 
 bodings. 
 
 Governor Morris, who had continually worried 
 the Assembly with message after message before the 
 defeat of Braddock, to beat them into the making 
 of acts to raise money for the defense of the province, 
 without taxing, among others, the proprietary es- 
 tates, and had rejected all their bills for not having 
 such an exempting clause, now redoubled his attacks 
 with more hope of success, the danger and necessity 
 being greater. The Assembly, however, continu’d 
 firm, believing they had justice on their side, and 
 that it would be giving up an essential right if they 
 suffered the governor to amend their money-bills. 
 In one of the last, indeed, which was for granting 
 fifty thousand pounds, his propos’d amendment was 
 only of a single word. The bill express’d “ that all 
 estates, real and personal, were to be taxed, those 
 of the proprietaries not excepted.” His amendment 
 was, for not read only : a small, but very material 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 3 r 7 
 
 alteration. However, when the news of this dis- 
 aster reached England, our friends there, whom we 
 had taken care to furnish with all the Assembly’s 
 answers to the governor’s messages, rais’d a clamor 
 against the proprietaries for their meanness and in- 
 justice in giving their governor such instructions ; 
 some going so far as to say that, by obstructing the 
 defense of their province, they forfeited their right 
 to it. They were intimidated by this, and sent 
 orders to their receiver-general to add five thousand 
 pounds of their money to whatever sum might be 
 given by the Assembly for such purpose. 
 
 This, being notified to the House, was accepted 
 in lieu of their share of a general tax, and a new 
 bill was form’d, with an exempting clause, which 
 passed accordingly. By this act I was appointed 
 one of the commissioners for disposing of the money, 
 sixty thousand pounds. I had been active in mo- 
 delling the bill and procuring its passage, and had, 
 at the same time, drawn a bill for establishing and 
 disciplining a voluntary militia, which I carried thro’ 
 the House without much difficulty, as care was 
 taken in it to leave the Quakers at their liberty. To 
 promote the association necessary to form the militia, 
 I wrote a dialogue,* stating and answering all the 
 objections I could think of to such a militia, which 
 was printed, and had, as I thought, great effect. 
 
 * This dialogue and the militia act are in the Gentleman’s Magazine 
 for February and March, 1756. — \Marg. note.] 
 
 27 * 
 
3 i 3 autobiography of 
 
 While the several companies in the city and 
 country were forming, and learning their exercise, 
 the governor prevail’d with me to take charge of 
 our North-western frontier, which was infested by 
 the enemy, and provide for the defense of the in- 
 habitants by raising troops and building a line of 
 forts. I undertook this military business, tho’ I 
 did not conceive myself well qualified for it. He 
 gave me a commission with full powers, and a parcel 
 of blank commissions for officers, to be given to 
 whom I thought fit. I had but little difficulty in 
 raising men, having soon five hundred and sixty 
 under my command. My son, who had in the pre- 
 ceding war been an officer in the army rais’d against 
 Canada, was my aid-de-camp, and of great use to 
 me. The Indians had burned Gnadenhut, a village 
 settled by the Moravians, and massacred the in- 
 habitants ; but the place was thought a good situation 
 for one of the forts. 
 
 In order to march thither, I assembled the com- 
 panies at Bethlehem, the chief establishment of those 
 people. I was surprised to find it in so good a pos- 
 ture of defense ; the destruction of Gnadenhut had 
 made them apprehend danger. The principal build- 
 ings were defended by a stockade ; they had pur- 
 chased a quantity of arms and ammunition from 
 New York, and had even plac’d quantities of small 
 paving stones between the windows of their high 
 stone houses, for their women to throw down upon 
 the heads of any Indians that should attempt to 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 V9 
 
 force into them. The armed brethren, too, kept 
 watch, and reliev’d as methodically as in any gar- 
 rison town. In conversation with the bishop, Span- 
 genberg, I mention’d this my surprise ; for, know- 
 ing they had obtained an act of Parliament exempt- 
 ing them from military duties in the colonies, I had 
 suppos’d they were conscientiously scrupulous of 
 bearing arms. He answer’d me that it was not one 
 of their established principles, but that, at the time 
 of their obtaining that act, it was thought to be a 
 principle with many of their people. On this occa- 
 sion, however, they, to their surprise, found it 
 adopted by but a few. It seems they were either 
 deceiv’d in themselves, or deceiv’d the Parliament ; 
 but common sense, aided by present danger, will 
 sometimes be too strong for whimsical opinions. 
 
 It w r as the beginning of January when we set out 
 upon this business of building forts. I sent one de- 
 tachment toward the Minisink, with instructions to 
 erect one for the security of that upper part of the 
 country, and another to the lower part, with similar 
 instructions ; and I concluded to go myself with the 
 rest of my force to Gnadenhut, where a fort was 
 tho’t more immediately necessary. The Moravians 
 procur’d me five waggons for our tools, stores, 
 baggage, etc. 
 
 Just before we left Bethlehem, eleven farmers, 
 who had been driven from their plantations by the 
 Indians, came to me requesting a supply of firearms, 
 that they might go back and fetch oft' their cattle. 
 
3 2 ° 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 I gave them each a gun with suitable ammunition. 
 We had not march’d many miles before it began 
 to rain, and it continued raining all day ; there were 
 no habitations on the road to shelter us, till we ar- 
 riv’d near night at the house of a German, where, 
 and in his barn, we were all huddled together, as 
 wet as water could make us. It was well we were 
 not attack’d in our march, for our arms were of the 
 most ordinary sort, and our men could not keep 
 their gun locks dry. The Indians are dextrous 
 in contrivances for that purpose, which we had not. 
 They met that day the eleven poor farmers above 
 mentioned, and killed ten of them. The one who 
 escap’d inform’d that his and his companions’ guns 
 would not go off, the priming being wet with the 
 rain. 
 
 The next day being fair, we continu’d our march, 
 and arriv’d at the desolated Gnadenhut. There was 
 a saw-mill near, round which were left several piles 
 of boards, with which we soon hutted ourselves; an 
 operation the more necessary at that inclement sea- 
 son, as we had no tents. Our first work was to 
 bury more effectually the dead we found there, who 
 had been half interr’d by the country people. 
 
 The next morning our fort was plann’d and mark’d 
 out, the circumference measuring four hundred and 
 fifty-five feet, which would require as many palisades 
 to be made of trees, one with another, of a foot 
 diameter each. Our axes, of which we had seventy, 
 were immediately set to work to cut down trees. 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 3 21 
 
 and, our men being dextrous in the use of them, 
 great despatch was made. Seeing the trees fall so 
 fast, I had the curiosity to look at my watch when 
 two men began to cut at a pine ; in six minutes they 
 had it upon the ground, and I found it of fourteen 
 inches diameter. Each pine made three palisades 
 of eighteen feet long, pointed at one end. While 
 these were preparing, our other men dug a trench 
 all round, of three feet deep, in which the palisades 
 were to be planted ; and, our waggons, the bodys 
 being taken off, and the fore and hind wheels sepa- 
 rated by taking out the pin which united the two 
 parts of the perch, we had ten carriages, with two 
 horses each, to bring the palisades from the woods 
 to the spot. When they were set up, our carpen- 
 ters built a stage of boards all round within, about 
 six feet high, for the men to stand on when to fire 
 thro’ the loopholes. We had one swivel gun, which 
 we mounted on one of the angles, and fir’d it as soon 
 as fix’d, to let the Indians know, if any were within 
 hearing, that we had such pieces ; and thus our fort, 
 if such a magnificent name may be given to so 
 miserable a stockade, was finish’d in a week, though 
 it rain’d so hard every other day that the men could 
 not work. 
 
 This gave me occasion to observe, that, when 
 men are employ’d, they are best content’d; for on 
 the days they worked they were good-natur’d and 
 cheerful, and, with the consciousness of having done 
 a good day’s work, they spent the evening jollily ; 
 
3 22 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 but on our idle days they were mutinous and quar- 
 relsome, finding fault with their pork, the bread, etc., 
 and in continual ill-humor, which put me in mind 
 of a sea-captain, whose rule it was to keep his men 
 constantly at work ; and, when his mate once told 
 him that they had done every thing, and there was 
 nothing further to employ them about, “ Oh ,” says 
 he , “ make them scorer the anchor .” 
 
 This kind of fort, however contemptible, is a suf- 
 ficient defense against Indians, who have no cannon. 
 Finding ourselves now posted securely, and having 
 a place to retreat to on occasion, we ventur’d out in 
 parties to scour the adjacent country. We met with 
 no Indians, but we found the places on the neigh- 
 boring hills where they had lain to watch our pro- 
 ceedings. There was an art in their contrivance of 
 those places that seems worth mention. It being 
 winter, a fire was necessary for them ; but a com- 
 mon fire on the surface of the ground would by its 
 light have discover’d their position at a distance. 
 They had therefore dug holes in the ground about 
 three feet diameter, and somewhat deeper ; we saw 
 where they had with their hatchets cut off the char- 
 coal from the sides of burnt logs lying in the woods. 
 With these coals they had made small fires in the 
 bottom of the holes, and we observ’d among the 
 weeds and grass the prints of their bodies, made by 
 their laying all round, with their legs hanging down 
 in the holes to keep their feet warm, which, with 
 them, is an essential point. This kind of fire, so 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 323 
 
 manag’d, could not discover them, either by its light, 
 flame, sparks, or even smoke : it appear’d that their 
 number was not great, and it seems they saw we 
 were too many to be attacked by them with prospect 
 of advantage. 
 
 We had for our chaplain a zealous Presbyterian 
 minister, Mr. Beatty, who complained to me that 
 the men did not generally attend his prayers and 
 exhortations. When they enlisted, they were prom- 
 ised, besides pay and provisions, a gill of rum a day, 
 which was punctually serv’d out to them, half in 
 the morning, and the other half in the evening ; and 
 I observ’d they were as punctual in attending to re-* 
 ceive it; upon which I said to Mr. Beatty, “ It is, 
 perhaps, below the dignity of your profession to act 
 as steward of the rum, but if you were to deal it out 
 and only just after prayers, you would have them 
 all about you.” He liked the tho’t, undertook the 
 office, and, with the help of a few hands to measure 
 out the liquor, executed it to satisfaction, and never 
 were prayers more generally and more punctually 
 attended ; so that I thought this method preferable 
 to the punishment inflicted by some military laws for 
 non-attendance on divine service. 
 
 I had hardly finish’d this business, and got my 
 fort well stor’d with provisions, when I receiv’d a 
 letter from the governor, acquainting me that he had 
 call’d the Assembly, and wished my attendance 
 there, if the posture of affairs on the frontiers was 
 such that my remaining there was no longer neces- 
 
3 H A UTOBIOGRAPHT OF 
 
 sary. My friends, too, of the Assembly, pressing 
 me by their letters to be, if possible, at the meeting, 
 and my three intended forts being now compleated, 
 and the inhabitants contented to remain on their 
 farms under that protection, I resolved to return ; the 
 more willingly, as a New England officer, Colonel 
 Clapham, experienced in Indian war, being on a 
 visit to our establishment, consented to accept the 
 command. I gave him a commission, and, parad- 
 ing the garrison, had it read before them, and intro- 
 duc’d him to them as an officer who, from his skill 
 in military affairs, was much more fit to command 
 them than myself; and, giving them a little exhor- 
 tation, took my leave. I was escorted as far as 
 Bethlehem, where I rested a few days to recover 
 from the fatigue I had undergone. The first night, 
 being in a good bed, I could hardly sleep, it was 
 so different from my hard lodging on the floor of 
 our hut at Gnaden wrapt only in a blanket or 
 two. 
 
 While at Bethlehem, I inquir’d a little into the 
 practice of the Moravians : some of them had 
 accompanied me, and all were very kind to me. I 
 found they work’d for a common stock, eat at 
 common tables, and slept in common dormitories, 
 great numbers together. In the dormitories I ob- 
 served loopholes, at certain distances all along just 
 under the ceiling, which I thought judiciously 
 placed for change of air. I was at their church, 
 where I was entertain’d with good musick, the 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 325 
 
 organ being accompanied with violins, hautboys, 
 flutes, clarinets, etc. I understood that their sermons 
 were not usually preached to mixed congregations 
 of men, women, and children, as is our common 
 practice, but that they assembled sometimes the 
 married men, at other times their wives, then the 
 young men, the young women, and the little chil- 
 dren, each division by itself. The sermon I heard 
 was to the latter, who came in and were plac’d in 
 rows on benches ; the boys under the conduct of a 
 young man, their tutor, and the girls conducted 
 by a young woman. The discourse seem’d well 
 adapted to their capacities, and was delivered in a 
 pleasing, familiar manner, coaxing them, as it were, 
 to be good. They behav’d very orderly, but looked 
 pale and unhealthy, which made me suspect they 
 were kept too much within doors, or not allow’d 
 sufficient exercise. 
 
 I inquir’d concerning the Moravian marriages, 
 whether the report was true that they were by lot. 
 I was told that lots were us’d only in particular 
 cases ; that generally, when a young man found 
 himself dispos’d to marry, he inform’d the elders 
 of his class, who consulted the elder ladies that 
 govern’d the young women. As these elders of the 
 different sexes were well acquainted with the tem- 
 pers and dispositions of their respective pupils, they 
 could best judge what matches were suitable, and 
 their judgments were generally acquiesc’d in ; but 
 if, for example, it should happen that two or three 
 28 
 
326 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 young women were found to be equally proper for 
 the young man, the lot was then recurred to. I 
 objected, if the matches are not made by the mutual 
 choice of the parties, some of them may chance to 
 be very unhappy. “And so they may,” answer’d 
 my informer, “ if you let the parties chuse for them- 
 selves which, indeed, I could not deny. 
 
 Being returned to Philadelphia, I found the asso- 
 ciation went on swimmingly, the inhabitants that 
 were not Quakers having pretty generally come into 
 it, formed themselves into companies, and chose 
 their captains, lieutenants, and ensigns, according 
 to the new law. Dr. B. visited me, and gave me 
 an account of the pains he had taken to spread a 
 general good liking to the law, and ascribed much to 
 those endeavors. I had had the vanity to ascribe all 
 to my Dialogue ; however, not knowing but that he 
 might be in the right, I let him enjoy his opinion, 
 which I take to be generally the best way in such 
 cases. The officers, meeting, chose me to be colo- 
 nel of the regiment, which I this time accepted. I 
 forget how many companies we had, but we paraded 
 about twelve hundred well-looking men, with a 
 company of artillery, who had been furnished with 
 six brass field-pieces, which they had become so 
 expert in the use of as to fire twelve times in a 
 minute. The first time I reviewed my regiment 
 they accompanied me to my house, and would salute 
 me with some rounds fired before my door, which 
 shook down and broke several glasses of my elec- 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 327 
 
 trical apparatus. And my new honour proved not 
 much less brittle ; for all our commissions were soon 
 after broken by a repeal of the law in England. 
 
 During this short time of my colonelship, being 
 about to set out on a journey to Virginia, the officers 
 of my regiment took it into their heads that it would 
 be proper for them to escort me out of town, as far 
 as the Lower Ferry. Just as I was getting on horse- 
 back they came to my door, between thirty and 
 forty, mounted, and all in their uniforms. I had 
 not been previously acquainted with the project, or 
 I should have prevented it, being naturally averse 
 to the assuming of state on any occasion ; and I was 
 a good deal chagrin’d at their appearance, as I 
 could not avoid their accompanying me. What 
 made it worse was, that, as soon as we began to 
 move, they drew their swords and rode with them 
 naked all the way. Somebody wrote an account 
 of this to the proprietor, and it gave him great 
 offense. No such honor had been paid him when 
 in the province, nor to any of his governors ; and 
 he said it was only proper to princes of the blood 
 royal, which may be true for aught I know, who 
 was, and still am, ignorant of the etiquette in such 
 cases. 
 
 This silly affair, however, greatly increased his 
 rancour against me, which was before not a little, 
 on account of my conduct in the Assembly respect- 
 ing the exemption of his estate from taxation, which 
 I had always oppos’d very warmly, and not with- 
 
$28 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 out severe reflections on his meanness and injustice 
 of contending for it. He accused me to the minis- 
 try as being the great obstacle to the king’s service, 
 preventing, by my influence in the House, the proper 
 form of the bills for raising money, and he instanced 
 this parade with my officers as a proof of my having 
 an intention to take the government of the province 
 out of his hands by force. He also applied to Sir 
 Everard Fawkener, the postmaster-general, to de- 
 prive me of my office ; but it had no other effect 
 than to procure from Sir Everard a gentle ad- 
 monition. 
 
 Notwithstanding the continual wrangle between 
 the governor and the House, in which I, as a mem- 
 ber, had so large a share, there still subsisted a civil 
 intercourse between that gentleman and myself, and 
 we never had any personal difference. I have some- 
 times since thought that his little or no resentment 
 against me, for the answers it was known I drew up 
 to his messages, might be the effect of professional 
 habit, and that, being bred a lawyer, he might con- 
 sider us both as merely advocates for contending 
 clients in a suit, he for the proprietaries and I for 
 the Assembly. He would, therefore, sometimes call 
 in a friendly way to advise with me on difficult 
 points, and sometimes, tho’ not often, take my 
 advice. 
 
 We acted in concert to supply Braddock’s army 
 with provisions ; and, when the shocking news ar- 
 rived of his defeat, the governor sent in haste for 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 329 
 
 me, to consult with him on measures for preventing 
 the desertion of the back counties. I forget now 
 the advice I gave ; but I think it was, that Dunbar 
 should be written to, and prevail’d with, if possible, 
 to post his troops on the frontiers for their protec- 
 tion, till, by re-enforcements from the colonies, he 
 might be able to proceed on the expedition. And, 
 after my return from the frontier, he would have had 
 me undertake the conduct of such an expedition 
 with provincial troops, for the reduction of Fort Du- 
 quesne, Dunbar and his men being otherwise em- 
 ployed ; and he proposed to commission me as 
 general. I had not so good an opinion of my mili- 
 tary abilities as he profess’d to have, and I believe 
 his professions must have exceeded his real senti- 
 ments ; but probably he might think that my popu- 
 larity would facilitate the raising of the men, and 
 my influence in Assembly, the grant of money to 
 pay them, and that, perhaps, without taxing the 
 proprietary estate. Finding me not so forward to 
 engage as he expected, the project was dropt, 
 and he soon after left the government, being super- 
 seded by Captain Denny. 
 
 Before I proceed in relating the part I had in 
 public affairs under this new governor’s administra- 
 tion, it may not be amiss here to give some account 
 of the rise and progress of my philosophical repu- 
 tation. 
 
 In 1746, being at Boston, I met there with a Dr. 
 Spence, who was lately arrived from Scotland, and 
 
 28 * 
 
330 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 show’d me some electric experiments. They were 
 imperfectly perform’d, as he was not very expert ; 
 but, being on a subject quite new to me, they 
 equally surpris’d and pleased me. Soon after my 
 return to Philadelphia, our library company receiv’d 
 from Mr. P. Collinson, Fellow of the Royal Society 
 of London, a present of a glass tube, with some ac- 
 count of the use of it in making such experiments. 
 I eagerly seized the opportunity of repeating what 
 I had seen at Boston ; and, by much practice, ac- 
 quir’d great readiness in performing those, also, 
 which we had an account of from England, adding 
 a number of new ones. I say much practice, for 
 my house was continually full, for some time, with 
 people who came to see these new wonders. 
 
 To divide a little this incumbrance among my 
 friends, I caused a number of similar tubes to be 
 blown at our glass-house, with which they furnish’d 
 themselves, so that we had at length several per- 
 formers. Among these, the principal was Mr. 
 Kinnersley, an ingenious neighbor, who, being out 
 of business, I encouraged to undertake showing 
 the experiments for money, and drew up for him 
 two lectures, in which the experiments were rang’d 
 in such order, and accompanied with such explana- 
 tions in such method, as that the foregoing should as- 
 sist in comprehending the following. He procur’d 
 an elegant apparatus for the purpose, in which all the 
 little machines that I had roughly made for myself 
 were nicely form’d by instrument-makers. His 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 331 
 
 lectures were well attended, and gave great satis- 
 faction ; and after some time he went thro’ the 
 colonies, exhibiting them in every capital town, and 
 pick’d up some money. In the West India islands, 
 indeed, it was with difficulty the experiments could 
 be made, from the general moisture of the air. 
 
 Oblig’d as we were to Mr. Collinson for his pre- 
 sent of the tube, etc., I thought it right he should be 
 inform’d of our success in using it, and wrote him 
 several letters containing accounts of our experi- 
 ments. He got them read in the Royal Society, 
 where they were not at first thought worth so much 
 notice as to be printed in their Transactions. One 
 paper, which I wrote for Mr. Kinnersley, on the 
 sameness of lightning with electricity, I sent to Dr. 
 Mitchel, an acquaintance of mine, and one of the 
 members also of that society, who wrote me word 
 that it had been read, but was laughed at by the 
 connoisseurs. The papers, however, being shown 
 to Dr. Fothergill, he thought them of too much 
 value to be stifled, and advis’d the printing of them. 
 Mr. Collinson then gave them to Cave for publica- 
 tion in his Gentleman’s Magazine ; but he chose to 
 print them separately in a pamphlet, and Dr. Foth- 
 ergill wrote the preface. Cave, it seems, judged 
 rightly for his profit, for by the additions that arrived 
 afterward, they swell’d to a quarto volume, which 
 has had five editions, and cost him nothing for 
 copy-money. 
 
 It was, however, some time before those papers 
 
332 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 were much taken notice of in England. A copy of 
 them happening to fall into the hands of the Count 
 de Buffon, a philosopher deservedly of great reputa- 
 tion in France, and, indeed, all over Europe, he 
 prevailed with M. Dalibard to translate them into 
 French, and they were printed at Paris. The pub- 
 lication offended the Abbe Nollet, preceptor in 
 Natural Philosophy to the royal family, and an able 
 experimenter, who had form’d and publish’d a 
 theory of electricity, which then had the general 
 vogue. He could not at first believe that such a 
 work came from America, and said it must have 
 been fabricated by his enemies at Paris, to decry 
 his system. Afterwards, having been assur’d that 
 there really existed such a person as Franklin at 
 Philadelphia, which he had doubted, he wrote and 
 published a volume of Letters, chiefly address’d to 
 me, defending his theory, and denying the verity 
 of my experiments, and of the positions deduc’d 
 from them. 
 
 I once purpos’d answering the abbd, and actually 
 began the answer ; but, on consideration that my 
 writings contain’d a description of experiments 
 which any one might repeat and verify, and if not 
 to be verifi’d, could not be defended ; or of observa- 
 tions offer’d as conjectures, and not delivered dog- 
 matically, therefore not laying me under any obliga- 
 tion to defend them ; and reflecting that a dispute 
 between two persons, writing in different languages, 
 might be lengthened greatly by mistranslations, and 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 333 
 
 thence misconceptions of one another’s meaning, 
 much of one of the abbe’s letters being founded on 
 an error in the translation, I concluded to let my 
 papers shift for themselves, believing it was better 
 to spend what time I could spare from public busi- 
 ness in making new experiments, than in disputing 
 about those already made. I therefore never an- 
 swered M. Nollet, and the event gave me no cause 
 to repent my silence ; for my friend M. le Roy, of 
 the Royal Academy of Sciences, took up my cause 
 and refuted him ; my book was translated into the 
 Italian, German, and Latin languages ; and the doc- 
 trine it contain’d was by degrees universally adopted 
 by the philosophers of Europe, in preference to that 
 of the abbe ; so that he lived to see himself the last 
 
 of his sect, except Monsieur B , of Paris, his 
 
 eleve and immediate disciple. 
 
 What gave my book the more sudden and gen- 
 eral celebrity, was the success of one of its proposed 
 experiments, made by Messrs. Dalibard and De Lor 
 at Marly, for drawing lightning from the clouds. 
 This engag’d the public attention every where. M. 
 de Lor, who had an apparatus for experimental 
 philosophy, and lectur’d in that branch of science, 
 undertook to repeat what he called the Philadelphia 
 Experiments ; and, after they were performed be- 
 fore the king and court, all the curious of Paris 
 flocked to see them. I will not swell this narrative 
 with an account of that capital experiment, nor of 
 the infinite pleasure I receiv’d in the success of a 
 
334 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 similar one I made soon after with a kite at Phila- 
 delphia, as both are to be found in the histories of 
 electricity. 
 
 Dr. Wright, an English physician, when at Paris, 
 wrote to a friend, who was of the Royal Society, an 
 account of the high esteem my experiments were in 
 among the learned abroad, and of their wonder that 
 my writings had been so little noticed in England. 
 The society, on this, resum’d the consideration of 
 the letters that had been read to them ; and the cele- 
 brated Dr. Watson drew up a summary account of 
 them, and of all I had afterwards sent to England on 
 the subject, which he accompained with some praise 
 of the writer. This summary was then printed in 
 their Transactions ; and some members of the society 
 in London, particularly the very ingenious Mr. Can- 
 ton, having verified the experiment of procuring 
 lightning from the clouds by a pointed rod, and ac- 
 quainting them with the success, they soon made me 
 more than amends for the slight with which they 
 had before treated me. Without my having made 
 any application for that honor, they chose me a 
 member, and voted that I should be excus’d the 
 customary payments, which would have amounted 
 to twenty-five guineas ; and ever since have given 
 me their Transactions gratis.* They also pre- 
 
 * Dr. Franklin gives a further account of his election in a letter to his 
 son, Governor Franklin, from which the following is an extract : 
 
 “ London, 19 Deceiiiber^ 1767. 
 
 “We have had an ugly affair at the Royal Society lately. One 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 335 
 
 sented me with the gold medal of Sir Godfrey Cop- 
 ley for the year 1753, the delivery of which was 
 accompanied by a very handsome speech* of the 
 president, Lord Macclesfield, wherein I was highly 
 honoured. 
 
 Our new governor, Captain Denny, brought over 
 
 Dacosta, a Jew, who, as our clerk, was intrusted with collecting our 
 moneys, has been so unfaithful as to embezzle near thirteen hundred 
 pounds in four years. Being one of the Council this year, as well as 
 the last, I have been employed all the last week in attending the inquiry 
 into, and unravelling, his accounts, in order to come at a full knowledge 
 of his frauds. His securities are bound in one thousand pounds to the 
 Society, which they will pay, but we shall probably lose the rest. lie 
 had this year received twenty-six admission payments of twenty-five 
 guineas each, which he did not bring to account. 
 
 “ While attending to this affair, I had an opportunity of looking over 
 the old Council books and journals of the Society, and, having a 
 curiosity to see how I came in, of which I had never been informed, I 
 looked back for the minutes relating to it. You must know, it is not 
 usual to admit persons that have not requested to be admitted ; and a 
 recommendatory certificate in favor of the candidate, signed by at least 
 three of the members, is by our rule to be presented to the Society, 
 expressing that he is desirous of that honor, and is so and so qualified. 
 As I never had asked or expected the honor, I was, as I said before, 
 curious to see how the business was managed. I found that the certifi- 
 cate, worded very advantageously for me, was signed by Lord Maccles- 
 field, then president, Lord Parker, and Lord Willoughby ; that the 
 election was by a unanimous vote ; and, the honor being voluntarily 
 conferred by the Society, unsolicited by me, it was thought wrong to 
 demand or receive the usual fees or composition ; so that my name was 
 entered on the list, with a vote of Council that I was not to pay any 
 thing, and accordingly nothing has ever been demanded of me. Those 
 who are admitted in the common way, pay five guineas admission fees, 
 and two guineas and a half yearly contribution, or twenty-five guineas 
 down in lieu of it. In my case a substantial favor accompanied the 
 honor.” — W. T. F. 
 
 * See this speech in vol. v. p. 499, Sparks' Works of Franklin. — I!. 
 
336 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 for me the before-mentioned medal from the Royal 
 Society, which he presented to me at an entertain- 
 ment given him by the city. He accompanied it 
 with very polite expressions of his esteem for me, 
 having, as he said, been long acquainted with my 
 character. After dinner, when the company, as 
 was customary at that time, were engag’d in drink- 
 ing, he took me aside into another room, and ac- 
 quainted me that he had been advis’d by his friends 
 in England to cultivate a friendship with me, as one 
 who was capable of giving him the best advice, and 
 of contributing most effectually to the making his 
 administration easy ; that he therefore desired of all 
 things to have a good understanding with me, and 
 he begg’d me to be assur’d of his readiness on all 
 occasions to render me every service that might be 
 in his power. He said much to me, also, of the 
 proprietor’s good disposition towards the province, 
 and of the advantage it might be to us all, and to 
 me in particular, if the opposition that had been 
 so long continu’d to his measures was dropt, and 
 harmony restor’d between him and the people ; in 
 effecting which, it was thought no one could be 
 more serviceable than myself; and I might depend 
 on adequate acknowledgments and recompenses, 
 etc., etc. The drinkers, finding we did not return 
 immediately to the table, sent us a decanter of Ma- 
 deira, which the governor made liberal use of, 
 and in proportion became more profuse of his solici- 
 tations and promises. 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 337 
 
 My answers were to this purpose : that my cir- 
 cumstances, thanks to God, were such as to make 
 proprietary favours unnecessary to me ; and that, 
 being a member of the Assembly, I could not possi- 
 bly accept of any ; that, however, I had no personal 
 enmity to the proprietary, and that, whenever the 
 public measures he propos’d should appear to be 
 for the good of the people, no one should espouse 
 and forward them more zealously than myself ; my 
 past opposition having been founded on this, that 
 the measures which had been urged were evidently 
 intended to serve the proprietary interest, with great 
 prejudice to that of the people ; that I was much 
 obliged to him (the governor) for his professions of 
 regard to me, and that he might rely on every thing 
 in my power to make his administration as easy as 
 possible, hoping at the same time that he had not 
 brought with him the same unfortunate instruction 
 his predecessor had been hamper’d with. 
 
 On this he did not then explain himself; but 
 when he afterwards came to do business with the 
 Assembly, they appear’d again, the disputes were 
 renewed, and I was as active as ever in the opposi- 
 tion, being the penman, first, of the request to have 
 a communication of the instructions, and then of 
 the remarks upon them, which may be found in the 
 votes of the time, and in the Historical Review I 
 afterward publish’d. But between us personally 
 no enmity arose ; we were often together ; he was a 
 man of letters, had seen much of the world, and 
 
 29 p 
 
33S 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 was very entertaining and pleasing in conversation. 
 He gave me the first information that my old friend 
 Jas. Ralph was still alive ; that he was esteem’d one 
 of the best political writers in England ; had been em- 
 ploy’d in the dispute between Prince Frederic and the 
 king, and had obtain’d a pension of three hundred a 
 year ; that his reputation was indeed small as a poet, 
 Pope having damned his poetry in the Dunciad ; but 
 his prose was thought as good as any man’s. 
 
 * The Assembly finally finding the proprietary 
 obstinately persisted in manacling their deputies with 
 instructions inconsistent not only with the privileges 
 of the people, but with the service of the crown, 
 resolv’d to petition the king against them, and 
 appointed me their agent to go over to England, to 
 present and support the petition. The House had 
 sent up a bill to the governor, granting a sum of 
 sixty thousand pounds for the king’s use (ten thou- 
 sand pounds of which was subjected to the orders 
 of the then general, Lord Loudoun), which the 
 governor absolutely refus’d to pass, in compliance 
 with his instructions. 
 
 I had agreed with Captain Morris, of the paquet 
 at New York, for my passage, and my stores were 
 put on board, when Lord Loudoun arriv’d at Phila- 
 delphia, expressly, as he told me, to endeavor an 
 accommodation between the governor and Assem- 
 
 * The many unanimous resolves of the Assembly — what date ? — 
 [Marg. note.] 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 339 
 
 bly, that his majesty’s service might not be ob- 
 structed by their dissensions. Accordingly, he 
 desir’d the governor and myself to meet him, that 
 he might hear what was to be said on both sides. 
 We met and discuss’d the business. In behalf of 
 the Assembly, I urg’d all the various arguments that 
 may be found in the public papers of that time, 
 which were of my writing, and are printed with the 
 minutes of the Assembly ; and the governor pleaded 
 his instructions ; the bond he had given to observe 
 them, and his ruin if he disobey’d, yet seemed not 
 unwilling to hazard himself if Lord Loudoun would 
 advise it. This his lordship did not chuse to do, 
 though I once thought I had nearly prevail’d with 
 him to do it ; but finally he rather chose to urge the 
 compliance of the Assembly ; and he entreated me 
 to use my endeavours with them for that purpore, 
 declaring that he would spare none of the king’s 
 troops for the defense of our frontiers, and that, if 
 we did not continue to provide for that defense our- 
 selves, they must remain expos’d to the enemy. 
 
 I acquainted the House with what had pass’d, 
 and, presenting them with a set of resolutions I had 
 drawn up, declaring our rights, and that we did 
 not relinquish our claim to those rights, but only 
 suspended the exercise of them on this occasion 
 thro’ force , against which we protested, they at 
 length agreed to drop that bill, and frame another 
 conformable to the proprietary instructions. This 
 of course the governor pass’d, and I was then at 
 
340 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 liberty to proceed on my voyage. But, in the mean 
 time, the paquet had sailed with my sea-stores, 
 which was some loss to me, and my only recom- 
 pense was his lordship’s thanks for my service, all 
 the credit of obtaining the accommodation falling to 
 his share. 
 
 He set out for New York before me ; and, as the 
 time for dispatching the paquet-boats was at his dis- 
 position, and there were two then remaining there, 
 one of which, he said, was to sail very soon, I re- 
 quested to know the precise time, that I might not 
 miss her by any delay of mine. His answer was, 
 “ I have given out that she is to sail on Saturday 
 next ; but I may let you know, entre nous, that if 
 you are there by Monday morning, you will be in 
 time, but do not delay longer.” By some accidental 
 hinderance at a ferry, it was Monday noon before I 
 arrived, and I was much afraid she might have 
 sailed, as the wind was fair ; but I was soon made 
 easy by the information that she was still in the 
 harbor, and would not move till the next day. One 
 would imagine that I was now on the very point of 
 departing for Europe. I thought so ; but I was not 
 then so well acquainted with his lordship’s character, 
 of which indecision was one of the strongest fea- 
 tures. I shall give some instances. It was about 
 the beginning of April that I came to New York, 
 and I think it was near the end of June before we 
 sail’d. There were then two of the paquet-boats, 
 which had been long in port, but were detained for 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 34 1 
 
 the general’s letters, which were always to be ready 
 to-morrow. Another paquet arriv’d ; she too was 
 detain’d; and, before we sail’d, a fourth was ex- 
 pected. Ours was the first to be dispatch’d, as 
 having been there longest. Passengers were en- 
 gag’d in all, and some extremely impatient to be 
 gone, and the merchants uneasy about their letters, 
 and the orders they had given for insurance (it being 
 war time) for fall goods ; but their anxiety avail’d 
 nothing ; his lordship’s letters were not ready ; and 
 yet whoever waited on him found him always at his 
 desk, pen in hand, and concluded he must needs 
 write abundantly. 
 
 Going myself one morning to pay my respects, I 
 found in his antechamber one Innis, a messenger of 
 Philadelphia, who had come from thence express with 
 a paquet from Governor Denny for the General. He 
 delivered to me some letters from my friends there, 
 which occasion’d my inquiring when he was to re- 
 turn, and where he lodg’d, that I might send some 
 letters by him. He told me he was order’d to call 
 to-morrow at nine for the general’s answer to the 
 governor, and should set off immediately. I put my 
 letters into his hands the same day. A fortnight 
 after I met him again in the same place. “ So, you 
 are soon return’d, Innis ?” “ Return'd ! no, I am 
 
 not gone yet.” “ How so?” “ I have called here 
 by order every morning these two weeks past for his 
 lordship's letter, and it is not yet ready.” “Is it 
 possible, when he is so great a writer? for I see him 
 
 29 * 
 
34 2 
 
 A UTOBIOGRAPHT OF 
 
 constantly at his escritoire.” “ Yes,” says Innis, 
 “ but he is like St. George on the signs, always on 
 horseback , and never rides on." This observation 
 of the messenger was, it seems, well founded ; for, 
 when in England, I understood that Mr. Pitt gave 
 it as one reason for removing this general, and send- 
 ing Generals Amherst and Wolfe, that the minister 
 never heard from him , and could not know what he 
 was doing. 
 
 This daily expectation of sailing, and all the three 
 paquets going down to Sandy Hook, to join the 
 fleet there, the passengers thought it best to be on 
 board, lest by a sudden order the ships should sail, 
 and they be left behind. There, if I remember right, 
 we were about six weeks, consuming our sea-stores, 
 and oblig’d to procure more. At length the fleet 
 sail’d, the General and all his army on board, bound 
 to Louisburg, with intent to besiege and take that 
 fortress ; all the paquet-boats in company ordered to 
 attend the General’s ship, ready to receive his dis- 
 patches when they should be ready. We were out 
 five days before we got a letter with leave to part, 
 and then our ship quitted the fleet and steered for 
 England. The other two paquets he still detained, 
 carried them with him to Halifax, where he stayed 
 some time to exercise the men in sham attacks upon 
 sham forts, then alter’d his mind as to besieging Lou- 
 isburg, and return’d to New York, with all his troops, 
 together with the two paquets above mentioned, and 
 all their passengers ! During his absence the French 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 343 
 
 and savages had taken Fort George, on the frontier 
 of that province, and the savages had massacred 
 many of the gari'ison after capitulation. 
 
 I saw afterwards in London Captain Bonnell, who 
 commanded one of those paquets. He toid me that, 
 when he had been detain’d a month, he acquainted 
 his lordship that his ship was grown foul, to a de- 
 gree that must necessarily hinder her fast sailing, a 
 point of consequence for a paquet-boat, and re- 
 quested an allowance of time to heave her down and 
 clean her bottom. He was asked how long time 
 that would require. He answer’d, three days. 
 The general replied, “ If you can do it in one day, 
 I give leave ; otherwise not ; for you must certainly 
 sail the day after to-morrow.” So he never obtain’d 
 leave, though detained afterwards from day to day 
 during full three months. 
 
 I saw also in London one of Bonnell’s passengers, 
 who was so enrag’d against his lordship for deceiv- 
 ing and detaining him so long at New York, and 
 then carrying him to Halifax and back again, that 
 he swore he would sue him for damages. Whether 
 he did or not, I never heard ; but, as he represented 
 the injury to his affairs, it was very considerable. 
 
 On the whole, I wonder’d much how such a 
 man came to be intrusted with so important a 
 business as the conduct of a great army ; but, 
 having since seen more of the great world, and 
 the means of obtaining, and motives for giving 
 places, my wonder is diminished. General Shirley, 
 
344 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 on whom the command of the army devolved upon 
 the death of Braddock, would, in my opinion, if 
 continued in place, have made a much better cam- 
 paign than that of Loudoun in 1757, which was 
 frivolous, expensive, and disgraceful to our nation 
 beyond conception ; for, tho’ Shirley was not a 
 bred soldier, he was sensible and sagacious in him- 
 self, and attentive to good advice from others, capa- 
 ble of forming judicious plans, and quick and active 
 in carrying them into execution. Loudoun, instead 
 of defending the colonies with his great army, left 
 them totally expos’d, while he paraded idly at Hali- 
 fax, by which means Fort George was lost, besides 
 he derang’d all our mercantile operations, and dis- 
 tress’d our trade, by a long embargo on the expor- 
 tation of provisions, on pretence of keeping supplies 
 from being obtain’d by the enemy, but in reality for 
 beating down their price in favor of the contractors, 
 in whose profits, it was said, perhaps from suspicion 
 only, he had a share. And, when at length the em- 
 bargo was taken oft', by neglecting to send notice of 
 it to Charlestown, the Carolina fleet was detain’d 
 near three months longer, whereby their bottoms 
 were so much damaged by the worm that a great 
 part of them foundered in their passage home. 
 
 Shirley was, I believe, sincerely glad of being re- 
 lieved from so burdensome a charge as the conduct 
 of an army must be to a man unacquainted with 
 military business. I was at the entertainment given 
 by the city of New York to Lord Loudoun, on his 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 345 
 
 taking upon him the command-. Shirley, tho’ 
 thereby superseded, was present also. There was 
 a great company of officers, citizens, and strangers, 
 and, some chairs having been borrowed in the 
 neighborhood, there was one among them very low, 
 which fell to the lot of Mr. Shirley. Perceiving it 
 as I sat by him, I said, “ They have given you, sir, 
 too low a seat.” “ No matter,” says he, “ Mr. 
 Franklin, I find a low seat the easiest.” 
 
 While I was, as afore mention’d, detain’d at 
 New York, I receiv’d all the accounts of the pro- 
 visions, etc., that I had furnish’d to Braddock, some 
 of which accounts could not sooner be obtain’d from 
 the different persons I had employ’d to assist in 
 the business. I presented them to Lord Loudoun, 
 desiring to be paid the ballance. He caus’d them 
 to be regularly examined by the proper officer, who, 
 after comparing every article with its voucher, cer- 
 tified them to be right ; and the balance due for 
 which his lordship promis’d to give me an order on 
 the paymaster. This was, however, put off from 
 time to time ; and, tho’ I call’d often for it by 
 appointment, I did not get it. At length, just be- 
 fore my departure, he told me he had, on better 
 consideration, concluded not to mix his accounts 
 with those of his predecessors. “ And you,” says 
 he, “when in England, have only to exhibit your 
 accounts at the treasury, and you will be paid 
 immediately.” 
 
 I mention’d, but without effect, the great and unex- 
 
 p * 
 
346 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 pected expense I had been put to by being detain’d 
 so long at New York, as a reason for my desiring to 
 be presently paid ; and on my observing that it was 
 not right I should be put to any further trouble or 
 delay in obtaining the money I had advanc’d, as I 
 charged no commission for my service, “ O, sir,” 
 says he, “ you must not think of persuading us that 
 you are no gainer ; we understand better those affairs, 
 and know that every one concerned in supplying 
 the army finds means, in the doing it, to fill his own 
 pockets.” I assur’d him that was not my case, and 
 that I had not pocketed a farthing ; but he appear’d 
 clearly not to believe me ; and, indeed, I have since 
 learnt that immense fortunes are often made in 
 such employments. As to my ballance, I am not 
 paid it to this day, of which more hereafter. 
 
 Our captain of the paquet had boasted much, be- 
 fore we sailed, of the swiftness of his ship ; unfor- 
 tunately, when we came to sea, she proved the 
 dullest of ninety-six sail, to his no small mortifica- 
 tion. After many conjectures respecting the cause, 
 when we were near another ship almost as dull as 
 ours, which, however, gain’d upon us, the captain 
 ordered all hands to come aft, and stand as near the 
 ensign staff as possible. We were, passengers in- 
 cluded, about forty persons. While we stood there, 
 the ship mended her pace, and soon left her neigh- 
 bour far behind, which prov’d clearly what our 
 captain suspected, that she was loaded too much by 
 the head. The casks of water, it seems, had been 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 347 
 
 all plac’d forward ; these he therefore order’d to be 
 mov’d further aft, on which the ship recover’d her 
 character, and proved the best sailer in the fleet. 
 
 The captain said she had once gone at the 
 rate of thirteen knots, which is accounted thir- 
 teen miles per hour. We had on board, as a pas- 
 senger, Captain Kennedy, of the Navy, who con- 
 tended that it was impossible, and that no ship 
 ever sailed so fast, and that there must have been 
 some error in the division of the log-line, or some 
 mistake in heaving the log. A wager ensu’d be- 
 tween the two captains, to be decided when there 
 should be sufficient wind. Kennedy thereupon ex- 
 amin’d rigorously the log-line, and, being satisfi’d 
 with that, he determin’d to throw the log himself. 
 Accordingly some days after, when the wind blew 
 very fair and fresh, and the captain of the paquet, 
 Lutwidge, said he believ’d she then went at the rate 
 of thirteen knots, Kennedy made the experiment, 
 and own’d his wager lost. 
 
 The above fact I give for the sake of the follow- 
 ing observation. It has been remark’d, as an im- 
 perfection in the art of ship-building, that it can 
 never be known, till she is tried, whether a new 
 ship will or will not be a good sailer ; for that the 
 model of a good-sailing ship has been exactly 
 follow’d in a new one, which has prov’d, on the 
 contrary, remarkably dull. I apprehend that this 
 may partly be occasion’d by the different opinions 
 of seamen respecting the modes of lading, rigging, 
 
34§ 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 and sailing of a ship ; each has his system ; and the 
 same vessel, laden by the judgment and orders of 
 one captain, shall sail better or worse than when by 
 the orders of another. Besides, it scarce ever hap- 
 pens that a ship is form’d, fitted for the sea, and 
 sail’d by the same person. One man builds the 
 hull, another rigs her, a third lades and sails her. 
 No one of these has the advantage of knowing all 
 the ideas and experience of the others, and, there- 
 fore, can not draw just conclusions from a combina- 
 tion of the whole. 
 
 Even in the simple operation of sailing when at 
 sea, I have often observ’d different judgments in the 
 officers who commanded the successive watches, the 
 wind being the same. One would have the sails 
 trimm’d sharper or flatter than another, so that they 
 seem’d to have no certain rule to govern by. Yet 
 I think a set of experiments might be instituted, 
 first, to determine the most proper form of the hull 
 for swift sailing ; next, the best dimensions and pro- 
 perest place for the masts ; then the form and quan- 
 tity of sails, and their position, as the wind may be ; 
 and, lastly, the disposition of the lading. This is an 
 age of experiments, and I think a set accurately 
 made and combin’d would be of great use. I am 
 persuaded, therefore, that ere long some ingenious 
 philosopher will undertake it, to whom I wish 
 success. 
 
 We were several times chas’d in our passage, but 
 outsail’d every thing, and in thirty days had sound- 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 349 
 
 ings. We had a good observation, and the captain 
 judg’d himself so near our port, Falmouth, that, if 
 vve made a good run in the night, we might be off 
 the mouth of that harbor in the morning, and by 
 running in the night might escape the notice of the 
 enemy’s privateers, who often cruis’d near the en- 
 trance of the channel. Accordingly, all the sail 
 was set that we could possibly make, and the wind 
 being very fresh and fair, we went right before it, 
 and made great way. The captain, after his ob- 
 servation, shap’d his course, as he thought, so as to 
 pass wide of the Scilly Isles ; but it seems there is 
 sometimes a strong indraught setting up St. George’s 
 Channel, which deceives seamen and caused the loss 
 of Sir Cloudesley Shovel’s squadron. This in- 
 draught was probably the cause of what happened 
 to us. 
 
 We had a watchman plac’d in the bow, to whom 
 they often called, “ Look well out before there," 
 and he as often answered, “Ay, ay;” but perhaps 
 had his eyes shut, and was half asleep at the time, 
 they sometimes answering, as is said, mechanically ; 
 for he did not see a light just before us, which had 
 been hid by the studding-sails from the man at the 
 helm, and from the rest of the watch, but by an 
 accidental yaw of the ship was discover’d, and 
 occasion’d a great alarm, we being very near it, 
 the light appearing to me as big as a cart-wheel. 
 It was midnight, and our captain fast asleep ; but 
 Captain Kennedy, jumping upon deck, and seeing 
 
 30 
 
35o 
 
 A U T OBIO GRAPH Y. 
 
 the danger, ordered the ship to wear round, all sails 
 standing ; an operation dangerous to the masts, but 
 it carried us clear, and we escaped shipwreck, for we 
 were running right upon the rocks on which the light- 
 house was erected. This deliverance impressed me 
 strongly with the utility of light-houses, and made 
 me resolve to encourage the building more of them 
 in America, if I should live to return there. 
 
 In the morning it was found by the soundings, etc., 
 that we were near our port, but a thick fog hid the 
 land from our sight. About nine o’clock the fog 
 began to rise, and seem’d to be lifted up from the 
 water like the curtain at a play-house, discovering 
 underneath, the town of Falmouth, the vessels in its 
 harbor, and the fields that surrounded it. This was 
 a most pleasing spectacle to those who had been so 
 long without any other prospects than the uniform 
 view of a vacant ocean, and it gave us the more 
 pleasure as we were now free from the anxieties 
 which the state of war occasion’d. 
 
 I set out immediately, with my son, for London, 
 and we only stopt a little by the way to view 
 Stonehenge on Salisbury Plain, and Lord Pem- 
 broke’s house and gardens, with his very curious 
 antiquities at Wilton. We arrived in London the 
 27th of July, 1757.* 
 
 * Here terminates the Autobiography, as published by Wm. Temple 
 Franklin and his successors. What follows was written the last year of 
 Dr. Franklin’s life, and was never before printed in English. — B. 
 
S soon as I was settled in a lodging Mr. 
 
 il Charles had provided for me, I went to visit 
 Dr. Fothergill, to whom I was strongly recommended, 
 and whose counsel respecting my proceedings I was 
 advis’d to obtain. He was against an immediate 
 complaint to government, and thought the proprie- 
 taries should first be personally appli’d to, who 
 might possibly be induc’d by the interposition and 
 persuasion of some private friends, to accommodate 
 matters amicably. I then waited on my old friend 
 and correspondent, Mr. Peter Collinson, who told 
 me that John Hanbury, the great Virginia merchant, 
 had requested to be informed when I should arrive, 
 that he might carry me to Lord Granville’s, who was 
 then President of the Council and wished to see me 
 as soon as possible. I agreed to go with him the 
 next morning. Accordingly Mr. Hanbury called 
 
 351 
 
352 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 for me and took me in his carriage to that noble- 
 man’s, who receiv’d me with great civility ; and 
 after some questions respecting the present state of 
 affairs in America and discourse thereupon, he said 
 to me : “You Americans have wrong ideas of the 
 nature of your constitution ; you contend that the 
 king’s instructions to his governors are not laws, 
 and think yourselves at liberty to regard or dis- 
 regard them at your own discretion. But those 
 instructions are not like the pocket instructions given 
 to a minister going abroad, for regulating his con- 
 duct in some trifling point of ceremony. They are 
 first drawn up by judges learned in the laws ; they 
 are then considered, debated, and perhaps amended 
 in Council, after which they are signed by the king. 
 They are then, so far as they relate to you, the law 
 of the land , for the king is the Legislator of the 
 Colonies.” I told his lordship this was new doc- 
 trine to me. I had always understood from our 
 charters that our laws were to be made by our As- 
 semblies, to be presented indeed to the king for his 
 royal assent, but that being once given the king 
 could not repeal or alter them. And as the Assem- 
 blies could not make permanent laws without his 
 assent, so neither could he make a law for them 
 without theirs. He assur’d me I was totally mis- 
 taken. I did not think so, however, and his lord- 
 ship’s conversation having a little alarm’d me as to 
 what might be the sentiments of the court concern- 
 ing us, I wrote it down as soon as I return’d to my 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 353 
 
 lodgings.* I recollected that about 20 years before, 
 a clause in a bill brought into Parliament by the 
 
 * An account of this conversation with Granville is given in the fol- 
 lowing letter from Franklin to Mr. James Bowdoin: 
 
 “ London, 13 January , 1772. 
 
 “ Dear Sir : I should very readily have recommended your son to the 
 cure of my friend, Dr. Priestly, if he had continued to superintend the 
 academy at Warrington; but he has left that charge some time since, 
 and is now pastor of a congregation at Leeds in Yorkshire. I am much 
 obliged to you for introducing me to the acquaintance of Mr. Erving, 
 who appears a very intelligent, sensible man. The governing of colo- 
 nies by instruction has long been a favorite point with ministers here. 
 About thirty years since, in a bill brought into Parliament relating to 
 America, they inserted a clause to make the king’s instructions laws in 
 the colonies, which, being opposed by the then agents, was thrown out. 
 
 “ And I well remember a conversation with Lord Granville, soon 
 after my arrival here, in which he expressed himself on that subject in 
 the following terms. ‘Your American Assemblies slight the king’s 
 instructions, pretending that they are not laws. The instructions sent 
 over to your governors are not like the pocket instructions given to 
 ambassadors, to be observed at their discretion, as circumstances may 
 require. They are drawn up by grave men, learned in the laws and 
 constitutions of the realm ; they are brought into Council, thoroughly 
 weighed, well considered, and amended if necessary, by the wisdom of 
 that body, and, when received by the governors, they are the laws of 
 the land ; for the king is the legislator of the colonies.’ I remember 
 this the better, because, being a new doctrine to me, I put it down as 
 soon as I returned to my lodgings. To be sure, if a governor thinks 
 himself obliged to obey all instructions, whether consistent or inconsis- 
 tent with the constitution, laws, and rights of the country he governs, 
 and can proceed to govern in that train, there is an end of the constitu- 
 tion, and those rights are abolished. But I wonder that any honest 
 gentleman can think there is honor in being a governor on such terms. 
 And I think the practice cannot possibly continue, especially if opposed 
 with spirit by our Assemblies. At present no attention is paid by the 
 American ministers to any agent here whose appointment is not ratified 
 by the governor’s assent ; and, if this is persisted in, you can have none 
 to serve you in a public character, that do not render themselves agree- 
 30 * 
 
354 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 ministry had propos’d to make the king’s instruc- 
 tions laws in the colonies, but the clause was thrown 
 out by the Commons, for which we adored them as 
 our friends and friends of liberty, till by their con- 
 duct towards us in 1765 it seem’d that they had 
 refus’d that point of sovereignty to the king only 
 that they might reserve it for themselves. 
 
 After some days, Dr. Fothergill having spoken to 
 the proprietaries, they agreed to a meeting with me 
 at Mr. T. Penn’s house in Spring Garden. The 
 conversation at first consisted of mutual declarations 
 of disposition to reasonable accommodations, but I 
 suppose each party had its own ideas of what should 
 be meant by reasonable. We then went into con- 
 sideration of our several points of complaint, which 
 I enumerated. The proprietaries justify’d their con- 
 duct as well as they could, and I the Assembly’s. 
 We now appeared very wide, and so far from each 
 other in our opinions as to discourage all hope of 
 agreement. However, it was concluded that I 
 should give them the heads of our complaints in 
 writing, and they promis’d then to consider them. 
 
 able to these ministers, and those otherwise appointed can only promote 
 your interests by conversation as private gentlemen or by writing. Vir- 
 ginia had, as you observe, two agents, one for the Council, the other for 
 the Assembly ; but I think the latter only was considered as agent for 
 the Province. 
 
 “ He was appointed by an act, which expired in the time of Lord 
 Botetourt, and was not revived. The other, I apprehend, continues ; 
 but I am not well acquainted with the nature of his appointment. I 
 only understand that he does not concern himself much with the general 
 affairs of the colony.” — Sparks' Works of Franklin, vol. vii. p. 549- — B. 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 355 
 
 I did so soon after, but they put the paper into the 
 hands of their solicitor, Ferdinand John Paris, who 
 managed for them all their law business in their 
 great suit with the neighbouring proprietary of 
 Maryland, Lord Baltimore, which had subsisted 70 
 years, and wrote for them all their papers and mes- 
 sages in their dispute with the Assembly. He was 
 a proud, angry man, and as I had occasionally in 
 the answers of the Assembly treated his papers with 
 some severity, they being really weak in point of 
 argument and haughty in expression, he had con- 
 ceived a mortal enmity to me, which discovering 
 itself whenever we met, I declin’d the proprietary’s 
 proposal that he and I should discuss the heads of 
 complaint between our two selves, and refus’d treat- 
 ing with any one but them. They then by his ad- 
 vice put the paper into the hands of the Attorney 
 and Solicitor-General for their opinion and counsel 
 upon it, where it lay unanswered a year wanting 
 eight days, during which time I made frequent 
 demands of an answer from the proprietaries, but 
 without obtaining any other than that they had not 
 yet received the opinion of the Attorney and Soli- 
 citor-General. What it was when they did receive 
 it I never learnt, for they did not communicate it to 
 me, but sent a long message to the Assembly drawn 
 and signed by Paris, reciting my paper, complaining 
 of its want of formality, as a rudeness on my part, 
 and giving a flimsy justification of their conduct, 
 adding that they should be willing to accommodate 
 
35 6 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 matters if the Assembly would send out some person 
 of candour to treat with them for that purpose, inti- 
 mating thereby that I was not such. 
 
 The want of formality or rudeness was, probably, 
 my not having address’d the paper to them with 
 their assum’d titles of True and Absolute Proprie- 
 taries of the Province of Pennsylvania, which I 
 omitted as not thinking it necessary in a paper, the 
 intention of which was only to reduce to a certainty 
 by writing, what in conversation I had delivered 
 viva voce. 
 
 But during this delay, the Assembly having pre- 
 vailed with Gov’r Denny to pass an act taxing the 
 proprietary estate in common with the estates of 
 the people, which was the grand point in dispute, 
 they omitted answering the message. 
 
 When this act however came over, the proprieta- 
 ries, counselled by Paris, determined to oppose its 
 receiving the royal assent. Accordingly they pe- 
 tition’d the king in Council, and a hearing was 
 appointed in which two lawyers were employ’d by 
 them against the act, and two by me in support of 
 it. They alledg’d that the act was intended to load 
 the proprietary estate in order to spare those of the 
 people, and that if it were suffer’d to continue in 
 force, and the proprietaries who were in odium with 
 the people, left to their mercy in proportioning the 
 taxes, they would inevitably be ruined. We reply’d 
 that the act had no such intention, and would have 
 no such effect. That the assessors were honest and 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 357 
 
 discreet men under an oath to assess fairly and 
 equitably, and that any advantage each of them 
 might expect in lessening his own tax by augment- 
 ing that of the proprietaries was too trifling to induce 
 them to perjure themselves. This is the purport of 
 what I remember as urged by both sides, except 
 that we insisted strongly on the mischievous conse- 
 quences that must attend a repeal, for that the 
 money, £100,000, being printed and given to the 
 king’s use, expended in his service, and now spread 
 among the people, the repeal would strike it dead 
 in their hands to the ruin of many, and the total 
 discouragement of future grants, and the selfishness 
 of the proprietors in soliciting such a general catas- 
 trophe, merely from a groundless fear of their estate 
 being taxed too highly, was insisted on in the 
 strongest terms. On this, Lord Mansfield, one of 
 the counsel rose, and beckoning me took me into 
 the clerk’s chamber, while the lawyers were plead- 
 ing, and asked me if I was really of opinion that no 
 injury would be done the proprietary estate in the 
 execution of the act. I said certainly. “Then,” 
 says he, “ you can have little objection to enter into 
 an engagement to assure that point.” I answer’d, 
 “None at all.” He then call’d in Paris, and after 
 some discourse, his lordship’s proposition was ac- 
 cepted on both sides ; a paper to the purpose was 
 drawn up by the Clerk of the Council, which I 
 sign’d with Mr. Charles, who was also an Agent 
 of the Province for their ordinary affairs, when Lord 
 
3S8 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Mansfield returned to the Council Chamber, where 
 finally the law w f as allowed to pass. Some changes 
 were however recommended and we also engaged 
 they should be made by a subsequent law, but the 
 Assembly did not think them necessary ; for one 
 year’s tax having been levied by the act before the 
 order of Council arrived, they appointed a committee 
 to examine the proceedings of the assessors, and on 
 this committee they put several particular friends of 
 the proprietaries. After a full enquiry, they unani- 
 mously sign’d a report that they found the tax had 
 been assess’d with perfect equity. 
 
 The Assembly looked into my entering into the 
 first part of the engagement, as an essential service 
 to the Province, since it secured the credit of the 
 paper money then spread over all the country. They 
 gave me their thanks in form when I return’d. 
 But the proprietaries were enraged at Governor 
 Denny for having pass’d the act, and turn’d him 
 out with threats of suing him for breach of instruc- 
 tions which he had given bond to observe. He, 
 however, having done it at the instance of the 
 General, and for His Majesty’s service, and having 
 some powerful interest at court, despis’d the threats 
 and they were never put in execution.* 
 
 * The following allusion to Gov’r Denny’s removal occurs in a letter 
 which Franklin wrote to his wife while the negotiations here described 
 were progressing. — B. 
 
 “ I see the governor’s treatment of his wife makes all the ladies angry. 
 If it is on account of the bad example, that will soon be removed ; for 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 359 
 
 the Proprietors are privately looking out for another ; being determined 
 to discard him, and the place goes a-begging. One, to whom it was 
 offered, sent a friend to make some inquiries of me. The Proprietors 
 told him they had there a city-house and a country-house, which he 
 might use rent free ; that everything was so cheap he might live on 
 five hundred pounds sterling a year, keep a genteel table, a coach, etc., 
 and his income would be at least nine hundred pounds. If it fell short 
 of that, the Proprietors would engage to make it up. For the truth of 
 his being able to live genteelly, and keep a coach for five hundred 
 pounds a year, the Proprietors referred him to Mr. Hamilton, who, it 
 seems, told him the same story ; but, on inquiry of Mr. Morris, he had 
 quite a different account, and knew not which to believe. The gentle- 
 man is one Mr. Graves, a lawyer of the Temple. He hesitated a good 
 while, and I am now told has declined accepting it. I wish that may 
 not be true, for he has the character of being a very good sort of man : 
 though while the instructions continue, it matters little who is our 
 governor. It was to have been kept a secret from me, that the Pro- 
 prietors were looking out for a new one ; because they would not have 
 Mr. Denny know any thing about it, till the appointment was actually 
 made, and the gentleman ready to embark. So you may make a secret 
 of it too, if you please, and oblige all your friends with it.” — Sparks' Edi- 
 tion of Franklin's Works, vol. vii. p. 170. 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 No. i. Preface to Castera’s Edition of Franklin’s Works .... 365 
 No. 2. Letter of Franklin to Le Veillard, April 15, 1787. From 
 
 the Le Veillard Collection 367 
 
 No. 3. Letter from Franklin to Le Veillard, October 24, 1788. 
 
 From the Le Veillard Collection 371 
 
 No. 4. Letter from Wm. Temple Franklin to M. le Veillard, Nov. 
 
 17, 1788. From the Le Veillard Collection 373 
 
 No. 5. Letter from Benjamin Franklin to M. le Veillard, Sept. 5, 
 
 1789. From the Le Veillard Collection 376 
 
 No. 6. Letter from Wm. Temple Franklin to M. le Veillard, dated 
 
 22 May, 1790. Le Veillard Collection 378 
 
 No. 7. Preface to Wm. T. Franklin’s Edition of Franklin’s 
 
 Works 379 
 
 No. 8. Charles St. Malo’s Preface to “ Correspondance Inedite de 
 
 Franklin, etc.” 384 
 
 No. 9. Letter from Benjamin Franklin to B. Vaughan, Nov. 2, 
 
 1789 386 
 
 31 * 363 
 
APPENDIX No. i. 
 
 Vie de Franklin, dcrite par lui-meme, suivie de ses CEuvres 
 morales, politiques et litteraires, dont la plus grand partie n’avait 
 pas encore etd publiee. Traduit de 1 ’ Anglais, avec des notes, 
 par J. Castera. Eripuit ccelo fulmen , sceptrumque tyrannis. 
 Paris, chez F. Buisson. Imp. Lib., rue Hautefeuille, No. 20. An 
 VI. de la Republique (1799). 
 
 Preface of the Translator. 
 
 “During the last years that Benjamin Franklin passed in 
 France, much was said in the circles he frequented of the 
 Confessions of Jean Jacques Rousseau, the first part of which had 
 just appeared. This work, of which one may say as much good 
 as ill, and which is sometimes so attractive by the charms and 
 sublimity of its style, sometimes so repulsive by the impropriety 
 of its revelations of facts, induced some of the friends of Frank- 
 lin to counsel him also to write the memoirs of his life. He 
 consented to do so. 
 
 31 * 
 
 365 
 
366 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 <■' These friends thought with reason that it would be curious to 
 compare the history of a writer who seems to have used his 
 brilliant imagination merely to render himself unhappy, with that 
 of a philosopher who incessantly employed all the resources of 
 his mind to assure his own happiness by contributing to the 
 happiness of all mankind. In effect, how interesting it is to con- 
 sider the different ways followed by these two men, both born in 
 the simple rank of artisans, both left to themselves from infancy 
 and almost without teachers ! Each educated himself and at- 
 tained great celebrity. But one indolently passed many years in 
 obscure servitude, where a sensual woman retained him, while the 
 other, relying entirely upon himself, labored constantly with his 
 hands, lived with the strictest temperance, the severest economy, 
 and at the same time supplied generally the needs, even the 
 fancies of his friends. 
 
 “ Let not this comparison, so entirely to the advantage of 
 Franklin, lead any one to suppose that I seek to depreciate Jean 
 Jacques. No one more than I loves or admires the rare talent 
 of this eloquent writer, but I have supposed his course, placed 
 in contrast with Franklin’s, might furnish a useful and grand 
 lesson for the young. 
 
 “ A part of the life of F ranklin had already been translated into 
 French, and in a sufficiently careful manner. Notwithstanding, 
 1 have dared to translate it anew. 
 
 “ The English editor has added to what he had been able to 
 procure of the MS. of Franklin, the continuation of his Life 
 composed in Philadelphia. I have been fortunate enough to 
 add to what this publisher has furnished me various pieces which 
 he has not known, and a second fragment of the original Memoirs, 
 but I have yet to regret not having had all these Memoirs, which 
 go, it is said, to 1757. It is not known why Mr. Benjamin 
 Franklin Bache,* who has them in his possession, and is now re- 
 
 * It was Win. T. Franklin who is here referred to. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 367 
 
 siding 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. 
 
 “Perhaps the reader will not be indisposed to run his eye 
 over a letter which the celebrated Dr. Price addressed to one of 
 his friends upon the subject of Franklin’s Memoirs. 
 
 “Hackney, 19 th June , 1790.” 
 
 APPENDIX No. 2. 
 
 Letter from Dr. Franklin to M. Ic Veillard. 
 
 [From the Le Veillard Collection.] 
 
 “ Philadelphia, April, 15, 1787. 
 
 “Dear Friend: I have received a number of letters from 
 you, which gave me great pleasure, tho’ I have not regularly an- 
 swered. When you shall consider the situation of a man who 
 had been many years absent from home, the multiplicity of pri- 
 vate affairs he must consequently have to settle, the public busi- 
 ness of a great government to be attended to, and this under the 
 frequent teasing of a painful disease, you will probably make 
 some charitable allowance for his delay in writing to his friends, 
 and not charge it all as the effect of forgetfulness and want of 
 affection. 
 
 “ I now have all your letters of the last year before me, and shall 
 go thro’ them in order. That of March 25, announced a M. de la 
 Villele, nephew of the late Madame de la Fretd, as intending a 
 voyage thither, but he has not yet appeared in these parts. If 
 he arrives while I live, he will be paid every attention and 
 civility in my power to show him. 
 
 “ I thank you for the trouble you have taken in selling my 
 forte piano and dividing the money as I desired. 
 
 “ The Lodge of the Nine Sisters have done me too much 
 honor in proposing the prize you mention. 
 
 “ As to the little history I promis’d you, my purpose still 
 
3 68 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 continues of completing it, and I hoped to do it this summer, 
 having built an addition to my house, in which I have plac’d my 
 library, and where I can write without being disturb’d by the 
 noise of the children, but the General Assembly having lately 
 desired my assistance in a great convention to be held here 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. 
 
 “Yours of the 23d of May did not arrive here till the 5th of 
 October, and this is not the only instance of the long time letters 
 are delayed in your seaports. It is true that we had, as you men- 
 tion, two parties in this State — one for preserving the Constitu- 
 tion as it is, and the other for adding an Upper House as a 
 check to the Assembly. But having try’d it seven years, the 
 strongest party was for continuing it, and since my arrival no 
 obstruction has happened in public business, such as you had 
 been informed of, by the seceding of one party from the Assem- 
 bly. Having served one year as President of Council, I had 
 not resolution enough to refuse serving another, and was again 
 chosen in November last, without a single dissenting voice but 
 my own. By our laws one cannot serve more than three years, 
 but I think I shall decline the third. 
 
 “ I am quite of your opinion that our independence is not 
 quite compleat till we have discharg’d our public debt. This 
 State is not behindhand in its proportion, and those who are in 
 arrear are actually employed in contriving means to discharge 
 their respective balances, but they are not all equally diligent in 
 the business, nor equally successful ; the whole will, however, be 
 paid, I am persuaded, in a few years. 
 
 “The English have not yet delivered up the ports on our 
 frontiers, agreeable to treaty ; the pretence is that our merchants 
 have not paid their debts. I was a little provok’d when I first 
 heard this, and I wrote some remarks upon it which I send you. 
 They have been written near a year, but I have not yet pub- 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 3 6 9 
 
 lished them, being unwilling to encourage any of our people who 
 may be able to pay in their neglect of that duty. This paper, 
 therefore, is only for your amusement and that of our excellent 
 friend, the Duke de Rochefoucault.* 
 
 “You blame me for writing three pamphlets and neglecting 
 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 writ- 
 ten there, for want of the documents that could only be had 
 here. 
 
 “ As to my malady, concerning which you so kindly inquire, 
 I have never had the least doubt of its being the stone. I am 
 sensible that it is grown heavier ; but on the whole it does not 
 give me more pain than when at Passy, and except in standing, 
 walking or making water, I am very little incommoded by it. 
 Sitting or lying in bed I am generally quite easy, God be thanked ; 
 and as I live temperately, drink no wine, and use daily the exer- 
 cise of the dumb-bell, I flatter myself that the stone is kept from 
 augmenting so much as it might otherwise do, and that I may 
 still continue to find it tolerable. People who live long, who 
 will drink of the cup of life to the very bottom, must expect to 
 meet with some of the usual dregs, and when I reflect on the 
 number of terrible maladies human nature is subject to, I think 
 myself favored in having to my share only the stone and the 
 gout. 
 
 “In yours of August 21st, you mention your having written 
 the 2 1 st and 29th of June, which letters were in a paquet, with 
 one from the Duke de Rochefoucault, two from M. and Mad. 
 Brillon, etc. I have not been so happy as to receive these let- 
 ters ; they never came to hand. 
 
 “You were right in conjecturing that I wrote the remarks on 
 the Thoughts concerning Executive Justice. I have no copy 
 of those remarks at hand, and forget how the saying was intro- 
 
 * The following was written in the margin : 
 time to copy it.” 
 
 Q* 
 
 “This omitted at present for want of 
 
37 ° 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 duced that it was better 1000 guilty persons should escape than 
 one innocent suffer. Your criticisms thereon appear to be just, 
 and I imagine you may have misapprehended my intention in 
 mentioning it. I always thought, with you, that the prejudice 
 in Europe which supposes a family dishonored by the punish- 
 ment of one of its members, was very absurd, it being, on the 
 contrary, my opinion that a rogue hanged out of a family does it 
 more honor than ten that live in it. 
 
 “ What you mention of our paper money, if you mean that of 
 this State, Pensilvania, is not well understood. It was made 
 before my arrival, and not being a legal tender can do no injus- 
 tice to anybody, nor does any one here complain of it, tho’ many 
 are justly averse to an increase of the quantity at this time, there 
 being a great deal of real money in the country, and one bank 
 in good credit. I have myself purchased ten actions in it, 
 which, at least, shows my good opinion of it. 
 
 “ Besides the addition to my house, mentioned above, I have 
 been building two new houses on my front, next the street. They 
 are of brick, and each 24 feet wide by 45 deep, and three stories 
 high. The affairs in dealing with so many workmen and fur- 
 nishers of materials, such as bricklayers, carpenters, stone-cutters, 
 painters, glaziers, lime-burners, timber-merchants, copper-smiths, 
 carters, laborers, etc., etc., have added not a little to the fatigu- 
 ing business I have gone through in the last year, as mentioned 
 above, and strengthen in some degree my apology for being so 
 bad a correspondent. 
 
 “ Mr. Brabanzon has requested me to send him some seeds in 
 time to plant this spring, but his letter came to hand too late. 
 They will be got the ensuing autumn and sent, so as to be ready 
 for planting next year. 
 
 “Temple and Benjamin will write to you. This letter goes 
 by Mr. Paine, one of our principal writers at the Revolution, 
 being the author of Common Sense , a pamphlet that had pro- 
 digious effects. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 37 1 
 
 “ He does not speak French, or I should recommend him to 
 your civilities, as I do to those of our friend the good Duke. 
 
 “ The last letter I have had the pleasure of receiving from you 
 is that of Nov. 19, 1786. I cannot give you a better idea of my 
 present happiness in my family than in telling you that my daugh- 
 ter has all the virtues of a certain good lady that you allow me 
 to love ; the same tender affections and intentions, ingenuity, in- 
 dustry, economy, etc., etc., etc. Embrace that good dame for me 
 very warmly, and the amiable daughter. My best wishes attend 
 the whole family, whom I shall never cease to love while I am 
 
 “B. Franklin.” 
 
 APPENDIX No. 3. 
 
 Benjamin Franklin to M. le Veillard. 
 
 [From the Le Veillard Collection.] 
 
 “Philadelphia, Oct 24, 1788. 
 
 “ My dear Friend : I have lately received your two kind 
 letters of June 18 and Aug. 6. I do not find that I ever re- 
 ceived those you mention of the 15th Septr. 
 
 “ I have been much afflicted the last summer with a long-con- 
 tinued fit of the gout, which I am not quite clear of, though 
 much better ; my other malady is not augmented. I have lately 
 made great progress in the work you so urgently demand, and 
 have come as far as my fiftieth year. Being now free from pub- 
 lic 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. 
 
 “ I am much concerned to hear the broils in your country, 
 but hope they will lead to its advantage. When this fermenta- 
 
37 2 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 tion is over and the troubling parts subsided, the wine will be 
 fine and good, and chear the hearts of those who drink of it. 
 
 “Our affairs mend daily and are getting into good order very 
 fast. Never was any measure so thoroughly discussed as our 
 proposed new constitution. Many objections were made to it 
 in the public papers, and answers to these objections. Much 
 party heat there was, and some violent personal abuse. I kept 
 out of the dispute and wrote only one little paper on the occa- 
 sion, which I enclose. You seem to me to be too apprehensive 
 about our President’s being perpetual. Neither he nor we have 
 any such intention. What danger there may be of such an 
 event, we are all aware of, and shall take care effectually to pre- 
 vent it. The choice is from four years to four years, the ap- 
 pointments will be small ; thus we may change our President if 
 we don’t like his conduct, and he will have less inducement to 
 struggle for a new election. As to the two Chambers, I am of 
 your opinion, that one alone would be better; but, my dear 
 friend, nothing in human affairs and schemes is perfect, and 
 perhaps that is the case of our opinions. 
 
 “It must have been a terrible tempest that devastated such 
 an extent of country. I have sometimes thought it might be 
 well to establish an office of insurance for farms against the 
 damage that may occur to them from storms, blight, insects, &c. 
 A small sum paid by a number would repair such losses and 
 prevent much poverty and distress. 
 
 “ Our adventurous merchants are hitherto successful in the East 
 India trade. Perhaps it would be better for us if we used none 
 of the commodities of those countries, but since we do use them, 
 it is an advantage that we have them cheaper than when they 
 came through Britain. As to the other merchandise she for- 
 merly supplied us with, our demand is daily diminishing. Our 
 people are more and more sensible of the mischievous conse- 
 quences of drinking rum ; the leaders of several religious sects 
 have warned their people against it, and the consumption has, 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 373 
 
 this last year, been less by one-third. This will affect her 
 islands. And the restraints she has laid on our trade have 
 contributed to raise a spirit of industry in families, who now 
 manufacture more than ever for themselves, that must lessen 
 greatly the importation. 
 
 “ Embrace for me bien tendrement your good dame and chil- 
 dren. With sincere esteem and hearty attachment, I am ever, 
 my dear friend, 
 
 “Yours, most affectionately, 
 
 “B. Franklin. 
 
 « M. le Veillard. 
 
 “P. S . — The wine is arriv’d, but it was not well secur’d or 
 bottled. One of the casks had leak’d a great deal, and the 
 case we have opened had two-thirds of the bottles empty or 
 broken. Temple is in the country; he has receiv’d your letters, 
 but does not know of this opportunity.” 
 
 APPENDIX No. 4. 
 
 Wtn. T. Franklin to M. le Veillard. 
 
 [From the Le Veillard Collection.] 
 
 “ PHILADELPHIE, 17 jV®"', 1788. 
 
 “La derniere lettre que j’ai reque de vous, mon cher ami, est 
 dattde le 6 Aout. Vous ne m’accusez pas la reception de la 
 mienne du mois de Fevrier,* et je crains qu’elle ne soit restde h 
 N. York avec plusieurs autres que j’ai dcrites en meme terns. 
 Vous savez sans doute que les Pacquetbots sont interrompus 
 depuis quelque terns, ce qui est cause j’imagine que je n’ai pas 
 encore requ la glace pour ma machine electrique que vous 
 m’anonqates au mois de Fevrier dernier. Voulez vous bien mon 
 
 * Je me trompe, en relisant votre lettre je vois que vous 1 ’avez re^iL 
 
 32 
 
374 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 ami, vous informer*' si elle est encore partie du Havre, et si elle y 
 reste encore, donnez des ordres pour qu’on me l’envoye par le 
 premier batiment marchand ou outre qui part pour Philadelphie 
 ou N. York ; et qu’on m’dcris une lettre d’avis en meme terns. 
 Actuellement que nous sommes sur les commissions, permittez 
 que je vous donnent encore quelques unes ; mais h cette con- 
 dition que si elle vous cause trop d’embarras vous ne les exe- 
 cuterez pas. Vous savez que j’ai une partie de la petite Bibli- 
 otheque des Theatres ; cette ouvrage me plait, et je voudrai 
 l’avoir complet. J’ai les treize volumes du i r annde, 1784, et 
 les N°- 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 9, 10, du 2<Je annde, 1785. II me 
 manque en consequence le N°- 8 du 2^ annde, et tous les N«s. 
 qui on parru depuis le N°- 10. Tachez je vous prie de mes les 
 procurer; je dois les avoir aux prix des souscripteurs. Je ne 
 sais si je n’ai pas souscrit pour la 2<>e annde ? Voici encore ce 
 que je desirerai avoir. i r - Memoire sur les moyens de con- 
 struire des planchers en bois avec plus de soliditd et d’economie 
 que l’on n’a fait jusqu’h present pour le Sieur Panseron ; chez 
 l’auteur, Rue des Masons i r - 4 e - 2de. Histoire japonoise de 
 Tangai et de Neardand, p r - Crebillon fils. 3 me - Une pinte des 
 plus beaux marrons de Lyons — pour planter. Tout cela peut 
 etre mise dans une petite boiette, et si elle est bien distinctement 
 addressee, elle me parviendra sans difficult^ ; mais il sera tou- 
 jours prudent que je rdcoive une lettre d’avis par la meme occa- 
 sion. Mon ayeul n’a regu que les 5 premiers volumes du 
 Dict e - d’Agric e - de l’Abbe Rozier, il desireroit avoir la suite ; 
 ainsi que la Bibliotheque Physyco Economique, depuis l’an 
 1785 — et ce qui a paru depuis la derniere envoye que vous ou 
 M. Grand lui a fait des Mdmoires des Chinois. Pour ce qui 
 regarde mes commissions les 69’ s que vous avez a moi seront, 
 
 * It will be perceived by the orthography of his letters, which I have deemed it my 
 duty to follow strictly, that Wm. Temple Franklin did not profit to the utmost, by his 
 opportunities of learning French during his eight years’ residence with his grandfather 
 at Passy. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 375 
 
 peutetre assez, si non vous vous addresserez a M. Grand, ainsi 
 que pour ce que vous debourserez pour mon ayeul. Nous 
 avons regu le vin de Cahusac qui est fort bon ; mais il faut que 
 celle dans les caisses ait etd mis en bouteille dans un terns de- 
 favorable attendu que, un tiers des bouteiUes etait cassds ou 
 vides, les bouchons etant partis. Celui en futaille h un peu 
 perdue en quantity mais rien en comparaison de celui en bouteille. 
 Le vin est en general bien goutd ici, mais il faut du terns pour 
 changer le gout de nos buveurs de Madere, et de Bordeaux. Je 
 me suis informe de plusieurs personnes au sujet de M. Bour- 
 goin, dont vous desirez avoir des nouvelles ; mais jusqu’h pre- 
 sent je n’ai pu savoir s’il est arrivd en Amerique. Nous avous 
 h Philadelphie plusieurs Frangois, entre autres un M. de 
 Ferriere qui connait tout le monde a Passy, et je me rapelle de 
 l’avoir vu chez M. Filleul, mais je crois qu’il portait alors un 
 autre nom. Il h la croix de St. Louis, et on dit qu’il h dtd 
 Prevot de Marechaux de France. Cest un homme d’environs 
 40 a 45 ans, d’une figure agreable, et il me parait ce qu’on ap- 
 pelle en France bonne enfant. Donnez moi un peu son His- 
 toire — il parle de s’etablir aux environs de Philadelphie et d’y 
 faire venir sa femme de Paris. Il est arrivd en Amerique avec 
 M. de St. Try et M. Brissot de Warville. Notre nouveau 
 Gouvernement va toujours son train — plusieurs Etats ont elu 
 leurs Senateurs, le peuple doivent elir leur Representatives dans 
 peu ; c’est au mois de Mars prochain qu’ils doivent s’assembler. 
 Il n’y-a qu’une voix pour le President General, 1’ilustre Wash- 
 ington ! h l’egard du Vice President les avis sont partagds entre 
 les General Knox, Messieurs Hancock, Adams, etc. Mon 
 ayeul ayant servi ses trois ans, comme President de cet Etat, 
 ou h elu if sa place le General Mifflin. Mon ayeul s’appelle 
 actuelment un free man , et je crois qu’il serait difficile de l’en- 
 gager a changer cet etat. Il parait on ne peut pas plus content 
 de jouir de la libertd et du repos. Il est maintenant occupd a 
 dcrire la suite de sa vie que vous avez desirez avec tant d’em- 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 37 6 
 
 pressement. Sa santd se retablit tous les jours. Adieu, mon 
 ami. Rapellez moi au souvenir de tous nos amis communs, et 
 dites mille choses tendre pour moi h toute votre famille. J’dcris 
 h M. votre fils. W. T. F. 
 
 “ M. le Veillard.” 
 
 APPENDIX No. 5. 
 
 Benjamin Franklin to M. le Veillard. 
 
 [From the Le Veillard Collection.] 
 
 “Philadelphia, Sept. 5, 1789. 
 
 “Dear Friend: I have had notice of sundry books sent out 
 by you, but none of them are come to hand except the Dictioti- 
 naire d’ Agriculture, by l’Abbd Rogier. My grandson also 
 complains of not receiving a package or case sent by you to 
 him, he knows not by what conveyance, nor where to enquire 
 for it. 
 
 “ It is long since I have had the pleasure of hearing from you, 
 the last letter I have received being dated the 21st of February, 
 but when I have no new letter from you, I console myself by 
 reading over some of the old ones, as I have lately done those 
 of the 1st April, ’88, and the 10th of Oct. and 27th Nov., ’88. 
 Every time I read what you write, I receive fresh pleasure. I 
 have already answered those last-mentioned letters, and now 
 have before me that of the 21st of February only. I am sorry 
 my friend Morris failed in the attention he ought to have shown 
 you, but I hope you will excuse it when you consider that an 
 American transported from the tranquil villages of his country 
 and set down in the tourbillon of such a great city as Paris 
 must necessarily be for some days half out of his senses. 
 
 “I hope you have perfectly recovered of yr. fall at Madam 
 Helvetius’s, and that you now enjoy perfect health ; as to mine, 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 377 
 
 I can give you no good account. I have a long time beer 
 afflicted with almost constant and grievous pain, to combat which 
 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 
 become totally emaciated, and little remains of me but a skele- 
 ton covered with a skin. In this situation I have not been able 
 to continue my Memoirs, and now I suppose 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. I make no 
 remarks to you concerning your public affairs, being too remote 
 to form just opinions concerning them ; indeed, I wonder that 
 you, who are at the same distance from us, make so very few 
 mistakes in your judgment of our affairs. At present we think 
 them in a good way, the Congress are employed in amending 
 some of their faults supposed to be in our constitution, and it is 
 expected that in a few weeks the machine will be in orderly 
 motion. The piece of M. Target, which you mention as having 
 sent me, is not come to hand. I am sorry to hear of the 
 scarcity which has afflicted your country. We have had here a 
 most plentiful harvest of all the productions of the earth without 
 exception, and I suppose some supplies will be sent you from 
 hence, tho’ the term during which the importation was admitted 
 was too short, considering the distance. 
 
 “ My family join in every affectionate sentiment respecting you 
 and yours, with 
 
 “Your sincere friend, 
 
 “B. Franklin.” 
 
 32 * 
 
37S 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 APPENDIX No. 6. 
 
 Win. Temple Franklin to M. le Veillard. 
 
 [From the Le Veillard Collection.] 
 
 “ Philadelphie, 22 Mai, 1790. 
 
 “Vous avez ddjk appris, mon cher ami, la perte que vous et 
 moi, et tout le monde a essuez dans la mort de ce bon et aimable 
 papa. Quoique nous l’attendions depuis longtemps, elle ne nous 
 a pas moins choqude lorsqu’elle est arrivde. II vous aimait bien 
 tendrement, ainsi que toute votre famille, et je ne doute pas que 
 vous ne partagerez mes justes douleurs. Je comptais vous dcrire 
 les details de la mort par M. de Chaumont, mais l’occupation 
 qu’elle me donne pour l’arrangement de ses affaires et surtout 
 de ses papiers, m'en ont empechd, et m’empeche meme k present 
 de rdpondre k vos dernieres lettres, ainsi qu’k celle que Mile, 
 votre fille a bien voulu m’dcrire, en m’envoyant de son ouvrage. 
 J’ai dte on ne peut pas plus touche de cette marque de sa con- 
 descendance et de son amitid, et je vous prie de lui en tdmoigner 
 ma reconnaissance en attendant que j’ai l’honneur de lui dcrire, 
 qui sera certainement par la premiere occasion pour France. 
 Tout paresseux que je suis pour dcrire, sa bontd m’dveillera. 
 Cette lettre vous arrivera par la voie d’Angleterre. J’ai cru de- 
 voir profiter de cette occasion pour vous apprendre que mon 
 ayeul, entre d’autres legs, m’a laisse toutes ses papiers et manu- 
 scrits, avec la permission d’en tirer tout le profit qui sera en mon 
 pouvoir. En consequence, je vous prie trds instament, mon 
 cher ami, de ne pas montrer a qui que ce soit, cette partie de sa 
 vie qu’il vous a envoyde il y k quelque terns, attendu que quel- 
 qu’un pourrait en tirer copie, et la publier, ce qui nuirait infini- 
 ment k la publication que je compte faire, aussitot qu’il sera 
 possible, de sa vie entidre, et de ses autres ouvrages. Comme 
 j’ai l’original ici de la partie que vous avez, il ne sera pas ndces- 
 saire de me l’envoyer, mais je vous prie toutefois de la mettre 
 sous envellope, bien cachetde, et k mon addresse, pour qu’en cas 
 
APPENDIX . 
 
 379 
 
 d’accident, elle ne passe pas en d’autres mains. Si, cependant, 
 elle est necessaire pour assister celui qui doit faire son dloge k 
 1’Academie, vous pouvez la preter pour cela, avec stipulation 
 qu’on n’en prendra pas copie, et d’autres precautions qui vous 
 paraitront necessaires. On n’a pas encore nomme aux emplois 
 en Europe ; il est possible que j’en aurai un, ce qui me mettrait 
 k meme d’assister k la publication des ouvrages de mon ayeul ; 
 mais quand meme on ne pense pas k moi, il est tres probable 
 que je me resous de faire le voyage d’Europe, attendu que je 
 suis bien persuade d’en tirer plus de bdndfice de la publication 
 en le faisant en Angleterre ou en France que dans ce pays-ci. 
 
 “Adieu pour cette fois, dans deux ou trois semaines j’espere 
 pouvoir vous ecrire directement, ainsi qu’a mes autres amis, et 
 atnies , en France. 
 
 “Aimez-moi, mon cher ami ; j’ai plus que jamais besoin de 
 votre amitid. 
 
 “W. T. Franklin.” 
 
 APPENDIX No. 7. 
 
 Preface to Memoirs of the Life and Writings of Ben- 
 jamin Franklin , by Win. Temple Franklin. Edi- 
 tion of 1 Si 7. 
 
 “An apology for presenting to the republic of letters the 
 authentic memorials of Benjamin Franklin, illustrative of his 
 life and times, written almost entirely with his own hands, would 
 be at once superfluous and disrespectful. If any observation 
 be at all requisite in the shape of explanations, it must be in 
 answer to the inquiry, why such interesting documents have been 
 so long withheld from public view? To this the editor has no 
 hesitation in replying, that were he conscious of having neglected 
 a solemn trust, by disobeying a positive injunction ; or could he 
 
3 So 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 be convinced that the world has sustained any real injury by the 
 delay of the publication, he certainly should take shame to him- 
 self for not having sooner committed to the press what at an 
 earlier period would have been much more to his pecuniary ad- 
 vantage ; but aware as he is, of the deference due to the general 
 feeling of admiration for the illustrious dead, he is not less sensi- 
 ble that there are times and seasons when prudence imposes the 
 restriction of silence in the gratification even of the most laud- 
 able curiosity. It was the lot of this distinguished character, 
 above most men, to move, in the prominent parts of his active 
 life, within a sphere agitated to no ordinary degree of heat by the 
 inflammatory passions of political fury ; and he had scarcely seated 
 himself in the shade of repose from the turmoil of public em- 
 ployment, when another revolution burst forth with far more 
 tremendous violence, during the progress of which his name 
 was adduced by anarchists as a sanction for their practices, and 
 his authority quoted by dreamy theorists in support of their 
 visionary projects. 
 
 “ Whether, therefore, the publication of his Memoirs and other 
 papers, amidst such a scene of perturbation, would have been 
 conducive to the desirable ends of peace, may be a matter of 
 question ; but, at all events, the sober and inquisitive part of 
 mankind can have no cause to regret the suspension of what 
 might have suffered from the perverted talents of designing par- 
 tisans and infuriated zealots. It may fairly be observed, that 
 the writings of Dr. Franklin are calculated to serve a far more 
 important purpose than that of ministering to the views of party 
 and keeping alive national divisions, which, however necessitated 
 by circumstances, ought to cease with the occasion, and yield to 
 the spirit of philanthropy. Even amidst the din of war and the 
 contention of faction, it was the constant aim of this excellent 
 man to promote a conciliatory disposition, and to correct the 
 acerbity of controversy. Though no one could feel more sensi- 
 bly for the wrongs of his country, or have more enlarged ideas 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 3^1 
 
 on the subject of general liberty, his powerful efforts to redress 
 the one and extend the other, were always connected with the 
 paramount object of social improvement, in the recommendation 
 of those habits which tend more effectually to unite men together 
 in the bonds of amity. Happening, however, to live himself in 
 a turbulent period, and called upon to take a leading part in those 
 scenes which produced a new empire in the Western World, 
 much of his latter Memoirs and correspondence will be to ex- 
 hibit his undisguised thoughts upon the public men and occur- 
 rences of the day. These sketches, anecdotes, and reflections 
 will now be read by men of opposite sentiments, without awaken- 
 ing painful recollections or rekindling the dying embers of ani- 
 mosity, while the historian and the moralist may learn from them 
 the secret springs of public events, and the folly of being carried 
 away by political prejudice. 
 
 “ While, therefore, some contracted minds in different coun- 
 tries may be querulously disposed to censure the delay that has 
 taken place in the publication of these posthumous papers, it is 
 presumed that the more considerate and liberal on either side of 
 the Atlantic will approve of the motives which have operated for 
 the procrastination, even though the period has so far exceeded 
 the nonum premaruni annum assigned by Horace, the oldest 
 and best of critics, for the appearance of a finished performance. 
 
 “ The editor, in offering this justificatory plea to the public, 
 and taking credit for having exercised so much discretion as to 
 keep these relics in his private custody till the return of halcyon 
 days and a brightened horizon, when their true value might be 
 best appreciated, feels that he has discharged his duty in that 
 manner which the venerable writer himself would have prescribed, 
 could he have anticipated the disorders which have ravaged the 
 most polished and enlightened states since his removal from this 
 scene of pride and weakness, where nations as well as individ- 
 uals have their periods of infancy and decrepitude, of moral vigor 
 and wild derangement. 
 
3 s 2 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 “Shortly after the death of Dr. Franklin, there were not want- 
 ing the usual train of literary speculators to exercise their indus- 
 try in collecting his avowed productions, together with those 
 which public rumor ascribed to his pen. These miscellanies 
 were printed in various forms, both in England and America, 
 greatly to the advantage of the publishers ; nor did the possessor 
 of the originals avail himself of the general avidity and the celeb- 
 rity of his ancestor, to deprive those persons of the profits 
 which they continued to reap from repeated editions of papers 
 that have cost them nothing. When, however, they had reason 
 to apprehend that the genuine Memoirs and other works of 
 Franklin, as written and corrected by himself, would be brought 
 forward in a manner suitable to their importance and the digni- 
 fied rank of the author in the political and literary world, in- 
 vidious reports were sent abroad, and circulated with uncommon 
 diligence; asserting that all the literary remains of Dr. Franklin 
 had been purchased at an enormous rate by the British ministry, 
 who (mirabile dictu ) it seems were more afraid of this arsenal 
 of paper than of the power of France, with all her numerous re- 
 sources and auxiliaries. This convenient tale, absurd as it was, 
 found reporters both in Europe and in the United States, who 
 bruited it about with so much art as to make many who were unac- 
 quainted with the legatee of the manuscripts, believe it to be true, 
 and to lament feelingly, that such inestimable productions should 
 be suppressed, and lost for ever, through the cupidity of the per- 
 son to whom they were bequeathed. Provoking as the story 
 was, the party whom it most affected, and whose interests it was 
 designed to injure, felt too much of the conscia mens recti to do 
 otherwise than treat the ridiculous invention with contempt, from 
 a persuasion that the refutation of an improbable falsehood is 
 beneath the dignity of truth. He, therefore, endured the oppro- 
 brium without complaint, and even suffered it to be repeated 
 without being goaded into an explanation ; contented to wait 
 for the time when he might best fulfill his duty and shame his 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 383 
 
 calumniators. That period has at length arrived, and the world 
 will now see whether an enlightened government could be weak 
 enough to be frightened by the posthumous works of a philoso- 
 pher ; or whether a man of integrity, bred under Franklin, bear- 
 ing his name, and entrusted with his confidence, could be bribed 
 into an act of treachery to his memory. 
 
 “ Of the present collection it remains to be observed, that the 
 only portion which has hitherto appeared in any form, is the first 
 fasciculus of the Memoirs of Dr. Franklin, extending from his 
 birth to the year 175 7, forming one hundred and seventy-five 
 pages only of the present volume. But even what has formerly 
 been printed of this part, can scarcely lay claim to originality , 
 since the English edition is no more than a translation from the 
 French, which of itself is a professed version of a transcription ; 
 so that the metamorphoses of this interesting piece of biography 
 may be said to resemble the fate of Milton’s epic poem, which a 
 French Abbd paraphrased into inflated prose, and which an Eng- 
 lish writer, ignorant of its origin, turned back again under the 
 double disguise into its native tongue. 
 
 “Admitting, however, that the small portion of the Memoir 
 given to the world, is substantially correct in the materials of 
 the narrative, the present publication of it must be infinitely 
 more estimable by being pritited literally from the original auto- 
 graph. 
 
 “ It is much to be regretted, that Dr. Frankiin was not enabled, 
 by his numerous avocations and the infirmities of old age, to 
 complete the narrative of his life in his own inimitable manner. 
 That he intended to have done this is certain, from his corres- 
 pondence, as well as from the parts in continuation of the Me- 
 moir which are now for the first time communicated to the world. 
 But the convulsed state of things during the American Revolution, 
 the lively concern which he had in that event, and his multiplied 
 public engagements, after contributing to the establishment of 
 the independence of his country, prevented him from indulging 
 
3§4 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 his own inclinations, and complying with the earnest desire of 
 his numerous friends. ” 
 
 APPENDIX No. 8. 
 
 Preface to “ Correspondance Inedite , etc., de B. 
 
 Franklin." By M. Charles Malo. 
 
 [Translation.] 
 
 “In publishing in France a complete Correspondence of Dr. 
 Franklin, I have intended to afford the public an opportunity of 
 enjoying the only part of the works of this celebrated man which 
 has remained unknown to us up to this time. This Correspond- 
 ence has the inappreciable advantage of being neither altered 
 nor abridged. France, England, America, there play a part 
 so important that I should reproach myself if I had suppressed 
 the smallest passage of it. Franklin will be found there in this 
 Correspondence complete and characteristic, with all that freedom 
 of speech so piquant and so noble which he indulged toward all 
 the courts of Europe. 
 
 “Two or three journals have announced a Select Correspond- 
 ence of Franklin. It is my duty to enlighten the public on this 
 fraudulent speculation of M. Temple (Franklin). Desirous of 
 prejudicing the interests of French booksellers, and at the same 
 time desperate at having been so unfortunately anticipated by 
 the appearance of a Complete Correspondence , this gentleman 
 had no other resource but to make a Selected Correspondence ; 
 but he has not foreseen that in reducing to one-half the work 
 which I publish to-day in two octavo volumes, he would really 
 give only an abridgment of it, an extract; that his boasted 
 Selection will be but an insignificant piece of claptrap, a thing 
 of shreds and patches. When, in fact, will the formidable scissors 
 stop of a foreigner who is directed by considerations of self-love, 
 and animated by local passions? In purchasing ‘the Abridged 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 385 
 
 Correspondence’ of M. Temple (Franklin), one will still not have 
 Franklin. But let us be just. If M. Temple (Franklin) cuts 
 up and pitilessly lacerates a Correspondence as yet entirely un- 
 published, and which was absolutely unknown in France, in 
 revenge, and by an equally reasonable calculation, he is about to 
 reproduce for the fourth time, that is to say to satiety, the 4 Me- 
 moirs of the Life of Franklin,’ printed at Paris, for the first 
 time, in 1791 (one volume in 8vo., by Buisson) ; for the second 
 time, in the year II. (one volume in iamo., Rue Therese) ; and 
 for the third time, in 1800 (two volumes in 8vo., by Buisson), 
 from the English edition of Dundee. 
 
 “ I owe this confidence to my readers, especially to that public 
 which M. Temple (Franklin) appeals to, that it may be duly 
 instructed as to the merit of the editions of which this person 
 wishes to give France the benefit. 
 
 “Since the month of January, and by many French book- 
 publishers, with a competition much more formidable than the 
 ‘ Extracts of Correspondence ,’ which M. Temple (Franklin) an- 
 nounces to-day, and to satisfy also the impatient subscribers of 
 this Complete Corresponderice , the literary gentleman charged 
 with it has judged proper to confide to two literary men, equally 
 known and esteemed, MM. Cohen and Breton, the translation 
 of a certain number of sheets of the second volume. 
 
 “The style of Franklin became, as he advanced in years, less 
 clear and less vigorous ; that of his correspondents also was 
 frequently diffuse and confused. In imposing upon himself the 
 rule never to depart from the original in any respect, the trans- 
 lator has necessarily encountered numberless difficulties, and has 
 seen himself forced to reproduce thousands of abstract ideas. 
 By the aid of a convenient selection he might easily have been 
 able to avoid the one, and substitute his own ideas for the others ; 
 but the glory of belittling a great man, of abridgmg Franklin, 
 was reserved for one of his descendants. Ought we to inherit 
 from one we have assassinated ?” 
 
 33 R 
 
3 S6 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 APPENDIX No. 9. 
 
 Extract from letter of Dr. Franklin to Benjamin 
 Vaughan , dated Nov. 2, 1789. 
 
 * “You request advice from me respecting your conduct, and 
 desire me to tell you their faults. As to your conduct, I know 
 nothing that looks like a fault, except yr. declining to act in any 
 public station, although you are qualified to do much public 
 good in many you must have had it in your power to occupy. 
 In respect to yr. writings, your language seems to me to be good 
 and pure, and your sentiments to be generally just ; but your 
 style or composition wants perspicuity, and this I think owing 
 principally to a neglect of method. What I would therefore 
 recommend to you is, that before you sit down to write on any 
 subject you would spend some days in considering it, putting 
 down at the same time, in short hints, every thought which oc- 
 curs to you as proper to make a part of yr. intended piece. 
 When you have thus obtained a collection of the thoughts, ex- 
 amine them carefully with this view, to find which of them is 
 properest to be presented first to the mind of the reader, that 
 he being possessed of that, may be better disposed to receive 
 what y r ou intend for the second ; and thus I would have you put 
 a figure before each thought to mark its future place in your 
 composition. For so every preceding composition preparing the 
 mind for that which is to follow, and the reader often anticipating 
 it, he proceeds with ease and pleasure and approbation, as seem- 
 ing continually to meet with his own thoughts. In this mode 
 you have a better chance for a perfect production ; because the 
 mind attending first to the sentiments alone, next to the method 
 alone each part is likely to be better performed, and I think, 
 too, in less time. 
 
 “ You see I give my counsel rather bluntly, without attempting 
 
 Sparks’ Works of Franklin, vol. x. p. 397. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 3S7 
 
 to soften my manner of finding fault by any apology, which would 
 give some people great offence ; but in the present situation of 
 affairs between us, when I am soliciting the advantage of your 
 criticism upon a work of mine , it is, perhaps, my interest that 
 you should be a little offended in order to produce a greater 
 degree of wholesome severity. I think with you that if my 
 Memoirs are to be published, an edition of them should be printed 
 in Efiglatid for that country , as well as here for this, and I 
 shall gladly leave it to your friendly ?nanagement." 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Academy founded by Franklin, 
 275 - 
 
 , the church built for White- 
 
 field purchased for, 276. 
 
 not sectarian, 276. 
 
 incorporated, 278. 
 
 became the University of 
 
 Pennsylvania, 278. 
 
 tom down, 278. 
 
 , French, entertainment 
 
 given Franklin by, 27, 53, 63. 
 
 Adams, John, 20. 
 
 , Matthew, lends Franklin 
 
 books, 93. 
 
 Albany, Congress of Commis- 
 sioners to treat with the Six 
 Nations held there, 295. 
 
 Alexander, James, 294. 
 
 Allen, William, 265. 
 
 America, Parliamentary plan to 
 tax, 295. 
 
 , Lord Granville’s view of 
 
 the rights of, 352. 
 
 33 * 
 
 Amherst, General, 342. 
 
 Art of Thinking, 98. 
 
 of Virtue, the title of a 
 
 work projected by Franklin, 
 227, 231. 
 
 Assembly, Franklin many years a 
 member of, 270. 
 
 , Franklin moves the pur- 
 chase of a fire-engine to get 
 , money for defence of the colony, 
 271. 
 
 , bill introduced to incor- 
 porate a hospital, 283. 
 
 , bill to pave and light the 
 
 streets, 287, 300, 301, 302. 
 
 petitions the King against 
 
 the pretensions of the Proprie- 
 taries, 338. 
 
 sends Franklin as its agent 
 
 to London, 338. 
 
 , Franklin’s interview with 
 
 Lord Granville about complaints 
 of, 352. 
 
 389 
 
39 ° 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Assembly, its action justified by 
 Franklin, 355. 
 
 Bache, Benjamin, grandson of 
 Dr. Franklin, toasted by the 
 Bishop of St. Asaph’s, 66. 
 
 Baird, Dr., his faith in Franklin, 
 176. 
 
 Baltimore, Lord, 355. 
 
 Bartram, John, botanist, 262. 
 
 Beatty, Mr., chaplain, complained 
 that troops did not attend his 
 prayers ; Franklin’s remedy, 
 323 - 
 
 Bethlehem, troops assembled 
 there, 318. 
 
 , ten farmers of, killed by 
 
 Indians, 320. 
 
 Bigelow, John, receives the MS. 
 Autobiography of Franklin, 
 52 - 
 
 Bishop of St. Asaph’s. See Dr. 
 Shipley. 
 
 Blackbeard, the pirate, 93. 
 
 Bond, Dr. Phineas, General Na- 
 tural Philosopher of the Phi- 
 losophical Society, 263. 
 
 , anecdote of, 315. 
 
 , Dr. Thomas, 262. 
 
 founds a hospital in Phila- 
 delphia, 281. 
 
 interview with Franklin, 
 
 282. 
 
 Bonnell, Captain, anecdote told 
 by, of Lord Loudoun, 343. 
 
 Boston News Letter, 102. 
 
 Botetourt, Lord, 354. 
 
 Bowdoin, James, letter from 
 Franklin to, about his interview 
 with Lord Granville, 353. 
 
 Brabanzon, Mr., 370. 
 
 Braddock, General, sent to Vir- 
 ginia, 302. 
 
 is visited at Frederictown 
 
 by Franklin, 302. 
 
 gives Franklin a commis- 
 sion to procure wagons, 303. 
 
 defeat and flight, 309-313. 
 
 account of, by Franklin, 
 
 3 ° 9 - 
 
 papers lost, comments of, 
 
 on Franklin’s services, 314. 
 Bradford, Andrew, 114. 
 
 , Franklin lodges with, 1 1 5. 
 
 , postmaster, 188. 
 
 forbids the postmen to 
 
 carry Franklin’s paper, 189. 
 Bradford, William, first printer 
 in Pennsylvania, 107. 
 
 removed to New York, 107. 
 
 advises Franklin to seek 
 
 employment with his son in 
 Philadelphia, 107. 
 
 Breintnal, Joseph, member of the 
 Junto, 169. 
 
 befriends Franklin, 187. 
 
 Brissot de Warville, M., 375. 
 Brogden, Charles, 131. 
 
 Brown, Dr., hotel of, at Burling- 
 ton, 109. 
 
 , his travestie of the Bible, 
 
 1 10. 
 
 Brownell, George, Franklin’s 
 teacher, 86. 
 
 Buisson publishes the first edition 
 of Memoirs of Franklin, 28. 
 
 wishes to purchase the 
 
 MS., 51. 
 
 Burnet, Governor, cultivates the 
 acquaintance of Franklin, 124. 
 
 , marriage of, 124. 
 
 , library of, 1 24. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 39 T 
 
 Burnet’s theological writings, 124. 
 
 , his censorship of the 
 
 cl erg)', 124. 
 
 , Franklin’s comments on 
 
 one of his messages, 181. 
 
 Bunyan’s Works purchased by 
 Franklin, 92. 
 
 Burton’s, R., historical collections 
 purchased by Franklin, 92. 
 
 Cabanis on the Memoirs of 
 Franklin, 32. 
 
 anecdote of Governor W m. 
 
 Franklin, 46. 
 
 , Franklin’s favorite read- 
 ing, 98. 
 
 Cambridge College confers de- 
 gree of Master of Arts on 
 Franklin, 293. 
 
 Canton, Mr., verified Franklin’s 
 experiment for procuring light- 
 ning from clouds by a pointed 
 rod, 334. 
 
 Carlisle, treaty with the Indians 
 at, 280. 
 
 , conduct of the Indians, 280. 
 
 Castera, M., translates Memoirs 
 of Franklin, 16. 
 
 , his theory of their origin 
 
 incorrect, 17. 
 
 preface to his edition, 365. 
 
 Charles, Mr., provides lodgings 
 for Franklin in London, 351. 
 
 Chapel, why so called, 148. 
 
 Clair, St, John, 307. 
 
 Clapham, Colonel, takes Frank- 
 lin’s command, 324. 
 
 Clifton, John, 287. 
 
 Clinton, Governor, Franklin dines 
 with, 265. 
 
 Cocker’s Arithmetic, 98. 
 
 Colden, Cadwallader, 262. 
 
 Coleman, William, 170. 
 
 befriends Franklin, 183, 
 
 185, 186. 
 
 , Treasurer of Philosophi- 
 cal Society, 263. 
 
 Collins, John, a bookish acquaint- 
 ance of Franklin, 94. 
 
 habits of disputation, 94. 
 
 dispute about the propriety 
 
 of educating the female sex, 94. 
 
 correspondence on the 
 
 subject, 95. 
 
 superiority of his style to 
 
 Franklin’s, 95. 
 
 engages a passage for 
 
 Franklin to go to New York, 
 106. 
 
 determines to go to Phila- 
 delphia, 1 2 1. 
 
 acquires bad habits, 123. 
 
 borrows money of Frank- 
 lin, 124. 
 
 , adventure of, in a boat, 
 
 125. 
 
 goes to Barbadoes as a 
 
 tutor, 126. 
 
 Collinson, Peter, sends a glass 
 tube, etc., to Philadelphia, 330. 
 
 , Franklin WTites to, 331. 
 
 gives letters to Cave to 
 
 publish, 331. 
 
 Congress, Franklin’s plan of a 
 union of the Colonies laid be- 
 fore, and approved, 204, 205. 
 
 Cooper’s Creek, Franklin enters, 
 in. 
 
 Copley medal, speech of Lord Mac- 
 clesfield on presenting, brought 
 over by Gov. Denny, 335. 
 
 Crusoe by De Foe, 108. 
 
39 2 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Dalibard, success of experiments 
 of, with De Lor, brought Frank- 
 lin’s letters on electricity into 
 notice, 333. 
 
 De Chaumont, M., 26. 
 
 , Le Ray, 99. 
 
 De Foe’s Robinson Crusoe ; Moll 
 Flanders ; Religious Courtship ; 
 Family Instructor, 108. 
 
 , Essay on Projects, 92. 
 
 De Lor, success of experiments 
 of with Dalibard, brought 
 Franklin’s letters on electricity 
 into notice, 333. 
 
 Denham, Dr., befriends Frank- 
 lin, 137, 138, 139. 
 
 advice to Franklin, 152. 
 
 , instance of his honesty, 
 
 152. 
 
 engages Franklin as clerk, 
 
 153 - 
 
 Denny, Captain, Governor of 
 Pennsylvania, 300. 
 
 — — disobeys instructions of the 
 Proprietaries, 300, 356. 
 
 arrival of, in the colony, 335. 
 
 brings Franklin the Cop- 
 ley medal, 335. 
 
 advances to Franklin, 336. 
 
 disputes with the Assem- 
 bly. 337- 
 
 , description of, 337. 
 
 — - — •, indignation of Proprie- 
 taries toward, 358. 
 
 letter about, from Frank- 
 lin, 358. 
 
 Dilly, Mr., projects a new edition 
 of Dr. Franklin’s writings, with 
 a life, 17. 
 
 , Franklin objects to the 
 
 life sketched for Dr. Lettsom, 18. 
 
 Dunbar, Colonel, 308. 
 
 , ignominious flight of, 312. 
 
 disregards his promise to 
 
 Franklin, 314. 
 
 Dunkers, 272. 
 
 Duplessis, Joseph Sifired, pastel 
 portrait of Franklin by, pre- 
 sented to M. le Veillard, 52, 54. 
 
 Ecton, in England, Franklin’s 
 family had lived there 300 years, 
 74- 
 
 , his grandfather was born 
 
 there, 76. 
 
 Edinburgh Review, on the charge 
 that Wm. Temple Franklin had 
 been hired by the British Gov- 
 ernment not to publish his 
 grandfather’s works, 40-42. 
 
 Electricity, origin of Franklin’s 
 experiments in, 329. 
 
 , letters on, to Collinson 
 
 and others, 331. 
 
 , Count Buffon persuades 
 
 Dalibard to translate them into 
 French, 332. 
 
 criticised by Abbe Nollet, 
 
 332 . 
 
 , summary of the experi- 
 ments printed among the Trans- 
 actions of the Royal Society, 334. 
 
 , chosen a member of the 
 
 Royal Society for, 334. 
 
 Elliott, Jared, letter to, from Frank- 
 lin in defence of vanity, 69. 
 
 Emmons, Mrs., great-granddaugh- 
 ter of Franklin, 79. 
 
 possesses the MS. volumes 
 
 of poetry of Benjamin Franklin, 
 the dyer, 78. 
 
 Erving, Mr., 353. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 393 
 
 Family Instructor, byDe Foe, 
 108. 
 
 Ferriere, M., 375. 
 
 Feuillet, M., cannot complete the 
 translation of Franklin’s Me- 
 moirs, 35. 
 
 Folger, Abiah, second wife of 
 Franklin’s father, 83. 
 
 , daughter of Peter Folger, 
 
 83 - 
 
 suckled her ten children, 
 
 89. 
 
 , epitaph on, 89. 
 
 Folger, Peter, father of Abiah 
 Folger, Franklin’s mother, 83. 
 
 — — - — honorably mentioned by 
 Cotton Mather, 83. 
 
 , specimen of his verses, 83. 
 
 Fothergill, Dr., Franklin’s opinion 
 of, 288. 
 
 Franklin’s proposal to, 
 
 289, 290. 
 
 advises publication of 
 
 Franklin’s letters to Collinson 
 and others on electricity, 331. 
 
 advice to Franklin on his 
 
 arrival in London as agent of 
 the Colonies, 351. 
 
 arranges a meeting of the 
 
 Proprietaries with Franklin, 354. 
 
 France, war with, apprehended, 
 294. 
 
 , war with, commenced, 300. 
 
 Francis, Mr., attorney-general, 
 helps Franklin draw up a con- 
 stitution for an academy, 275. 
 
 Francis, Dr. John W., saw Wm. 
 T. Franklin in London ; his ex- 
 planation of Wm. T. Franklin’s 
 delay in publishing his grand- 
 father’s works, 43. 
 
 Franklin, Benjamin, his age, 7, 25. 
 
 commenced his Memoirs, 
 
 78. 
 
 resumed at Passy in 1784, 
 
 15 - 
 
 , portrait of, by Duplessis, 
 
 presented to M. le Veillard, 8. 
 , changes made in his Me- 
 moirs by the editor of the edi- 
 tion of 1817, 9-14. 
 
 objects to a sketch made 
 
 for Dr. Lettsom, 18. 
 
 letters concerning his Me- 
 moirs to Edward Bancroft, 17. 
 
 letter to M. le Veillard, 
 
 18, 19, 20, 21, 22. 
 
 letter to Mr. Vaughan, 22, 
 
 23 - 
 
 letters from Wm. T. Frank- 
 lin, 19, 26, 32, 34, 35, 36, 37. 
 
 builds an addition to his 
 
 house, 18. 
 
 afflicted with gout, 19. 
 
 resolved to engage in no 
 
 new public employment, 19. 
 served three years as Presi- 
 dent of Pennsylvania, 20. 
 
 proposed to retire to his 
 
 grandson’s farm in New Jersey, 
 
 21. 
 
 resumes Memoirs in 1798, 
 
 22. 
 
 tortured by stone, 22. 
 
 — — — has recourse to opium, 22. 
 
 all hope of completing the 
 
 Memoirs abandoned, 22. 
 
 ask Mr. Vaughan’s advice 
 
 about the Memoirs, 23. 
 
 , eloge of, by Rochefou- 
 
 cault, 24. 
 
 not the tnedecin taut pis, 16. 
 
 * 
 
394 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Franklin’s, Benjamin, habits of 
 composition, 53. 
 
 , his Outline of Topics for 
 
 his Memoirs, 52, 60. 
 
 -, portrait of, by Duplessis, 
 
 54 - 
 
 , presented to M. le Veil- 
 
 lard, 54. 
 
 motives for writing his 
 
 Memoirs, 67. 
 
 would have no objection 
 
 to live his life over, 68. 
 
 considered vanity one of 
 
 the comforts of life, 69. 
 
 , receives from an uncle 
 
 some notes relating to his an- 
 cestors, 74. 
 
 , his family had lived in 
 
 Ecton, in Northamptonshire, 74. 
 
 , the ancient name of a rank 
 
 or order in England, 75. 
 
 named after his uncle Ben- 
 jamin, 79. 
 
 found a collection of pam- 
 phlets in London which this 
 uncle had made, 80. 
 
 family became Protestants 
 
 at an early period of the Refor- 
 mation, 82. 
 
 anecdote about reading the 
 
 Bible during the reign of Queen 
 Mary, 82. 
 
 , where born and when, 83. 
 
 put to a grammar-school 
 
 at eight years of age, 85. 
 
 at the head of his class, 85. 
 
 intended for the church, 85. 
 
 — — — sent to a school for writ- 
 ing and arithmetic, 85. 
 
 discontented with tallow 
 
 chandlery, 91. 
 
 Franklin, Benjamin, sent to learn 
 the cutlery trade with his cousin 
 Samuel, 91. 
 
 — - — taken home again, 91. 
 
 fond of reading, 91. 
 
 purchases Bunyan’s works, 
 
 92. 
 
 — sells them to buy R. Bur- 
 ton’s historical collections, 92. 
 
 failed in arithmetic, 86. 
 
 at ten leaves school and 
 
 assists his father to cut wicks 
 for candles, etc., 86. 
 
 dislikes his trade, 86. 
 
 inclination for the sea, 86. 
 
 discouraged by his father, 
 
 86 . 
 
 builds a fishing wharf with 
 
 stones intended for a house, 86. 
 
 censured by his father, 87. 
 
 description of his father, 87. 
 
 description of his mother, 
 
 89. 
 
 places a marble inscription 
 
 over his parents’ grave, 89. 
 
 reads Plutarch’s Lives, De 
 
 Foe’s Essay on Projects, and 
 Dr. Mather’s Essays to do 
 Good, 92. 
 
 bound as a printer’s ap- 
 prentice to his brother J ames, 92. 
 
 measures taken to gratify 
 
 his taste for reading, 93. 
 
 borrowed books of Mat- 
 thew Adams, 93. 
 
 writes ballads, “ The Light- 
 house Tragedy,” 93. 
 
 is sent to hawk them about 
 
 the streets, 93. 
 
 discouraged by his father 
 
 from verse-making, 93. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 395 
 
 Franklin, Benjamin, devotes him- 
 self to prose writing, 94. 
 
 makes the acquaintance of 
 
 John Collins, 94. 
 
 fondness for disputation 
 
 acquired. 94. 
 
 — , why discouraged, 94. 
 
 disputes with Collins about 
 
 the relative capacity of the two 
 sexes, 94. 
 
 correspondence on the 
 
 subject, 95. 
 
 criticisms of his father 
 
 thereupon, 95. 
 
 reads The Spectator, 95. 
 
 imitates it, 96. 
 
 advantages of these exer- 
 cises, 96. 
 
 spends Sundays in the 
 
 printing-office, 97. 
 
 adopts a vegetable diet, 97. 
 
 advantages it gave him 
 
 over the other apprentices, 97. 
 studies Cocker’s Arith- 
 metic, 98. 
 
 studies navigation, 98. 
 
 Locke on Human Under- 
 standing, 98. 
 
 Art of Thinking, 98. 
 
 Greenwood’s Eng. Gram- 
 mar, 99. 
 
 Xenophon’s Memorabilia, 
 
 99 - 
 
 — Shaftesbury and Collins, 
 
 99 - 
 
 bad translation of Provin- 
 cial Letters, 99. 
 
 adopts the Socratic me- 
 thod of disputation, 99. 
 
 abandoned it and why, 100. 
 
 specimen of his irony, 98. 
 
 Franklin, Benjamin, writes for his 
 brother’s newspaper, and carries 
 the paper to subscribers, 102. 
 
 encouraged by his success 
 
 as a writer, 103. 
 
 — , differences arise between 
 
 him and his brother, 103. 
 
 , his brother imprisoned 
 
 for an article in the paper, 104. 
 examined before the coun- 
 cil and admonished, 104. 
 
 manages the paper during 
 
 his brother’s imprisonment, 104. 
 
 , Courant published in the 
 
 name of, 105. 
 
 , old indentures returned to 
 
 him, 105. 
 
 , fresh differences with his 
 
 brother, 105. 
 
 , first erratum ofhislife, 105. 
 
 leaves his brother, 105. 
 
 — brother prevents his get- 
 
 ting work in Boston, 106. 
 
 determines to leave Bos- 
 ton, 106. 
 
 — father opposes his leaving, 
 
 106. 
 
 , Collins assists him, 106. 
 
 takes passage on a sloop 
 
 for New York, 106. 
 
 arrival m New York, 106. 
 
 offers his service to Wm. 
 
 Bradford, 107. 
 
 is advised to go to Phila- 
 delphia, to 7. 
 
 takes passage for Amboy, 
 
 107. 
 
 — is driven by a storm on 
 
 Long Island, 107. 
 
 — — — saves a drunken Dutch- 
 man from drowning, 107. 
 
39 6 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Franklin, Benjamin, Bunyan’s Pil- 
 grim’s Progress, 108. 
 
 — reaches Amboy in thirty 
 
 hours, 109. 
 
 journey to Burlington, 109. 
 
 , Dr. Brown, 109. 
 
 stay at Burlington, no. 
 
 — voyage to Philada., 1 1 1. 
 
 lands at Market street 
 
 wharf, hi. 
 
 situation and appearance 
 
 of, on arriving, hi. 
 
 first breakfast in Phila- 
 delphia, 1 1 2. 
 
 is seen by his future wife, 
 
 1 12. 
 
 first religious worship in 
 
 Philadelphia, 113. 
 
 first sleep in Philada., 113. 
 
 lodges at the Crooked Bil- 
 let, 113. 
 
 calls upon Andrew Brad- 
 ford, 1 14. 
 
 is employed by Keimer, 
 
 US- 
 
 boards with Mr. Read, 1 16. 
 
 is encouraged by Gover- 
 nor Keith, 1 1 7. 
 
 urged by him to set up a 
 
 printing-press, 118. 
 
 goes to Boston to consult 
 
 his father, 119. 
 
 — visits the printing-office, 
 
 1 19. 
 
 , anger of his brother, 120. 
 
 , his father discourages the 
 
 printing enterprise, 120. 
 
 visits his brother John at 
 
 Newport, 122. 
 
 adventure on the voyage 
 
 to New York, 122. 
 
 Franklin, Benjamin, lends money 
 to Collins, 124. 
 
 makes the acquaintance 
 
 of Governor Burnet, 124. 
 
 lends Vernon’s money to 
 
 Collins, 125. 
 
 adventure wi th Collins, 125. 
 
 engages with Sir William 
 
 Keith to go to London to buy 
 equipment of a printing-office, 
 
 127. 
 
 returns to eating meat, 
 
 128. 
 
 , intercourse of, with Kei- 
 mer, 129. 
 
 , intimate acquaintances of, 
 
 131- 
 
 literary exercises, 132. 
 
 sails for England, 137. 
 
 arrival in London, 138. 
 
 , no letters in the mail for 
 
 him from Governor Keith, 138. 
 , knavery of Keith disco- 
 vered, 138. 
 
 gets work in a printing- 
 
 office, 141. 
 
 writes a dissertation on 
 
 “ Liberty and Necessity, Plea- 
 sure and Pain,” 141. 
 
 new London acquaint- 
 ances, 142. 
 
 — sells an asbestos purse to 
 
 Sir Hans Sloane, 143. 
 
 attempts familiarities with 
 
 Ralph’s mistress, 145. 
 
 , its consequences, 146. 
 
 — — temperate habits in Lon- 
 don, 147. 
 
 difficulties with fellow- 
 
 workmen ; how he surmounted 
 them, 148. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 397 
 
 Franklin, Benjamin, his landlady 
 in Duke street, 149. 
 
 , a maiden lady his fellow- 
 
 lodger, 150. 
 
 teaches swimming, 151. 
 
 swims from Chelsea to 
 
 Blackfriars, 152. 
 
 is asked to teach the sons 
 
 of Sir William Windham, 154. 
 
 engaged by Mr. Denham 
 
 as clerk, 153. 
 
 returns to Phila., 155. 
 
 meets Keith, 155. 
 
 , death of Mr. Denham, 
 
 156. 
 
 , legacy from, 156. 
 
 takes the management of 
 
 Keimer’s printing-house, 157. 
 
 , his associates, 157. 
 
 quarrels with Keimer and 
 
 leaves him, 160. 
 
 projects a partnership with 
 
 Meredith, 161. 
 
 sends to England for a 
 
 printer’s equipment, 161. 
 returns to work for Kei- 
 mer, 162. 
 
 religious impressions, 164. 
 
 opens his new printing- 
 
 house, 167. 
 
 , his first job, 167. 
 
 industry and frugality, 176. 
 
 , their effect upon his 
 
 credit, 176. 
 
 projects a newspaper, 177. 
 
 writes the Busy Body, 177. 
 
 buys out Keimer’s paper, 
 
 177. 
 
 , his salutatory, 178. 
 
 attracts attention to his 
 
 paper, 180. 
 
 34 
 
 Franklin, Benjamin, is sued for 
 the price of their type, 183. 
 
 befriended by William 
 
 Coleman and Robert Grace, 
 183. 
 
 separation from Mere- 
 dith, 184. 
 
 , his habits at this time, 187. 
 
 marries Miss Read, 19 1. 
 
 projects the Philadelphia 
 
 Library, 194. 
 
 mode of getting subscri- 
 bers, 206-209. 
 
 prosperity, 209. 
 
 progress of luxury in his 
 
 family, 210. 
 
 views of religion, 210, 21 1. 
 
 disgusted with his minis- 
 ter, 212. 
 
 advice to his daughter, 213. 
 
 conceives the project of 
 
 arriving at perfection, 213. 
 
 mode of executing it, 214. 
 
 plans for self-examination, 
 
 223. 
 
 want of order, 224. 
 
 , pride of, 228. 
 
 , how he avoided dogma- 
 tism, 229. 
 
 projects a new sect, 233. 
 
 , its creed, 233. 
 
 publishes Poor Richard’s 
 
 Almanac, 235. 
 
 sends a journeyman to 
 
 South Carolina, 238 ; good re- 
 sults from it, 239. 
 
 becomes the champion 
 
 of Hemphill, a Presbyterian 
 preacher, 239. 
 
 quits the congregation on 
 
 Hemphill’s dismission, 241. 
 
39 § 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Franklin, Benjamin, leams the 
 French, Italian, Spanish and 
 Latin languages, 241. 
 
 advises the study of the 
 
 living languages before the 
 dead, 242. 
 
 revisits Boston, 243. 
 
 visits Newport, 243. 
 
 reconciliation with his 
 
 brother, 243. 
 
 makes amends to his 
 
 brother for breaking his inden- 
 tures, 244. 
 
 loses one of his sons, 244. 
 
 recommends inoculation, 
 
 244. 
 
 chosen clerk of the As- 
 sembly, 245. 
 
 , method of, to disarm an 
 
 opponent, 246. 
 
 appointed postmaster, 247. 
 
 organizes a city watch, 
 
 248. 
 
 organizes a fire company, 
 
 250. 
 
 , his account of White- 
 
 field, 251. 
 
 projects an academy, 260. 
 
 establishes a Philosophical 
 
 Society, 260. 
 
 original members, 262. 
 
 secretary of it, 263. 
 
 organizes the militia, 263. 
 
 declines office of colonel, 
 
 264 
 
 proposes a lottery to de- 
 fray expense of building and 
 equipping a battery, 264. 
 sent to New York to bor- 
 row cannon, 265. 
 
 proposes a fast, 265. 
 
 Franklin, Benjamin, why he would 
 not resign as clerk of Assem- 
 bly, 266. 
 
 invents a stove, 273. 
 
 presents the model to R. 
 
 Grace, 273. 
 
 writes a pamphlet about 
 
 it, 273. 
 
 is offered a patent for his 
 
 stove, 274. 
 
 declines it, and why, 274 
 
 writes proposals relating 
 
 to the education of youth in 
 Pennsylvania, 275. 
 
 formed a partnership with 
 
 David Hall, 277. 
 
 purchased Dr. Spence’s 
 
 philosophical apparatus, 278. 
 
 named a justice of the 
 
 peace, 279. 
 
 named a member of the 
 
 Common Council, 279. 
 
 named a burgess to the 
 
 Assembly, 279. 
 
 re-elected to the Assembly 
 
 ten years, 279. 
 
 declines to serve as jus- 
 tice of the peace, 279. 
 
 , his son appointed clerk 
 
 of the Assembly, 280. 
 
 named a commissioner to 
 
 treat with the Indians, 280. 
 reports a bill incorporat- 
 ing the Pennsylvania Hospital, 
 283. 
 
 , measures taken to clean 
 
 and pave the streets, 285. 
 , anecdote of street-sweep- 
 ing in London, 289. 
 
 proposal to Dr. Fother- 
 
 gill, 289. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 399 
 
 Franklin, Benjamin, appointed 
 postmaster-general, 293. 
 
 made Master of Arts, 293. 
 
 appointed to confer with 
 
 the Six Nations, 294. 
 
 projects a plan of union 
 
 of the Colonies, 294. 
 
 lays it before Congress, 
 
 294. 
 
 , it is reported, 295. 
 
 dictates Quincy’s address 
 
 to the Assembly of Pennsyl- 
 vania, asking aid, 300. 
 
 plan for Quincy’s relief, 
 
 3 01 - 
 
 their friendship, 301. 
 
 visits Gen. Braddock, 302. 
 
 receives a commission 
 
 from the general to purchase 
 horses, wagons, provisions, etc., 
 3 ° 3 - 
 
 , Braddock’s defeat, 309- 
 
 313 - 
 
 loss by, 309. 
 
 , his opinion of Braddock, 
 
 3 la 
 
 , the reward he asked for 
 
 his services, 314. 
 
 recommended by Brad- 
 dock to the government, 314. 
 
 appointed to superintend 
 
 the defence of the North-west- 
 ern frontier, 319. 
 
 measures for defence at 
 
 Gnadenhut, 318, 319. 
 
 resumes his seat in the 
 
 Assembly, 324. 
 
 chosen colonel of the first 
 
 regiment of militia, 326. 
 
 escorted to lower ferry on 
 
 his way to Lower Virginia, 327. 
 
 Franklin, Benjamin, indignation 
 of the proprietaries, 327. 
 
 they accuse him to the 
 
 ministry, 328. 
 
 declines a commission as 
 
 general, 329. 
 
 , progress of philosophical 
 
 experiments of, 329. 
 
 gives accounts of his ex- 
 periments to Mr. Collinson, 331. 
 
 , also to Mr. Kinnersley, 
 
 33i- 
 
 letters shown to Dr. 
 
 Fothergill, 331. 
 
 printed in a pamphlet by 
 
 editor of Gentleman' s Maga- 
 zine, 331. 
 
 elected a member of the 
 
 Royal Society free of expense, 
 
 334 - 
 
 presented with the Cop- 
 ley Medal, 334. 
 
 , advances of Governor 
 
 Denny, 335. 
 
 reply to the governor, 335. 
 
 sent to London as agent 
 
 of the colony, 335. 
 
 arrival at Falmouth, 350. 
 
 visits Stonehenge and 
 
 Lord Pembroke’s place at Wil- 
 ton, 350. 
 
 visits Dr. Fothergill in 
 
 London, 351. 
 
 visits Peter Collinson, 351. 
 
 calls with Mr. Hanbury 
 
 upon Lord Granville, 352. 
 
 important interview with, 
 
 352 - 
 
 conference at T. Penn’s 
 
 house in London with the pro- 
 prietaries, 354. 
 
400 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Franklin, Benjamin, consulted by 
 Lord Mansfield, 357. 
 
 satisfactory arrangement 
 
 negotiated, 358. 
 
 , indignation of the pro- 
 prietaries, 358. 
 
 Franklin, uncle of Dr. Franklin, 
 from whom he was named, 78. 
 
 , bred a silk dyer ; came to 
 
 America and lived with the 
 Doctor’s father in Boston to a 
 great age, 78. 
 
 left two MS. volumes of 
 
 poetry, 78. 
 
 , specimens, 79. 
 
 wrote short-hand, and had 
 
 taken down many volumes of 
 sermons, 80. 
 
 proposed to give them to 
 
 his nephew, 85. 
 
 collection of pamphlets, 
 
 80. 
 
 Franklin, J ames, brother of Benja- 
 min, 92. 
 
 projects a newspaper, 92. 
 
 , Benjamin apprenticed to 
 
 him, 92. 
 
 encourages Benjamin to 
 
 write poetry, 93 
 
 sends him about the town 
 
 to sell his ballads, 93. 
 
 starts the New England 
 
 Courant, 101. 
 
 encourages Benjamin to 
 
 write for him, 103. 
 
 — differences arise between 
 
 him and Benjamin, 103. 
 
 — sustained generally by his 
 
 father, 104. "■ 
 
 is imprisoned for an article 
 
 in his paper, 104. 
 
 Franklin, James, forbidden to pub- 
 lish the Cofirant, 103. 
 
 , Courant continued under 
 
 Benjamin Franklin’s name, 105. 
 new quarrel with Benja- 
 min, 105. 
 
 , Benjamin breaks his in- 
 dentures and leaves for New 
 York, 106. 
 
 , angry with Benjamin, 120. 
 
 Franklin, John, uncle of Doctor 
 Franklin, was bred a dyer of 
 woolens, 78. 
 
 Franklin, Josiah, father of Doctor 
 Franklin, 82. 
 
 , married young, 82. 
 
 moved with his family to 
 
 New England in 1682, 82. 
 
 had seventeen children, 83. 
 
 , Benjamin, the younger 
 
 son, 83. 
 
 , letter to, 76. 
 
 embarks in tallow chand- 
 lery, 86. 
 
 , description of, by Benja- 
 min, 87. 
 
 , epitaph on, 89. 
 
 discourages Benjamin 
 
 from writing verses, 93. 
 
 criticises his prose, 95. 
 
 opposes his going to New 
 
 York, 106. 
 
 Franklin, Mrs. Benjamin. See 
 Miss Read. 
 
 Franklin, Samuel, letter to, from 
 Dr. Franklin, 81. 
 
 Franklin, Thomas, uncle of Dr. 
 Franklin, bred a smith, 77. 
 
 became a scrivener, 78. 
 
 died in 1 702, four years be- 
 fore the Doctor was born, 78. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 401 
 
 Franklin, Wi/liam, Governor of 
 New Jersey; Dr. Franklin’s 
 Autobiography addressed to, 
 9, 66. 
 
 , not Governor of New Jer- 
 sey when the Autobiography 
 was revised by its author, 9. 
 appointed clerk of As- 
 sembly, 280. 
 
 supposed to have induced 
 
 delay in the publication of his 
 father’s works, 43, 44. 
 
 infatuated with the title of 
 
 Excellency, 46. 
 
 died in 1813, 43. 
 
 accompanies his father to 
 
 visit General Braddock, 302. 
 
 authorized to contract for 
 
 the purchase of horses, wagons, 
 provisions, etc., for Braddock’s 
 army, 305. 
 
 drew up a list of stores re- 
 quired for Braddock’s soldiers, 
 308. 
 
 aid-de-camp to his father, 
 
 318 - 
 
 Franklin, William Temple, grand- 
 son of Dr. Franklin, inherits the 
 papers of Dr. Franklin, 7, 25, 
 26, 27, 50. 
 
 exchanges original MS. of 
 
 Memoirs for copy in possession 
 of Madame le Veillard, 8, 38, 39. 
 
 , letters from, to M. le Veil- 
 
 lard, announcing his grand- 
 father’s death, 26. 
 
 requests the copy of his 
 
 grandfather’s Memoirs may not 
 be shown, 27. 
 
 expects a foreign appoint- 
 ment, 27. 
 
 34 * 
 
 Franklin, William Temple, pro- 
 poses to publish his grand- 
 father’s works in England or in 
 France, 27. 
 
 goes to London, 27. 
 
 receives a salary of £7000, 
 
 35 - 
 
 — letters to M. le Veillard, 
 19, 26, 32, 34, 35, 36, 37, 50, 51. 
 
 feels totally neglected by 
 
 his government, 37. 
 
 edition of Franklin’s works 
 
 do not appear till 1817, 37. 
 
 , this delay commented 
 
 upon, 40-47. 
 
 , vindication of himself, 42. 
 
 , its weakness, 45, 46. 
 
 , attack on him by M. 
 
 Charles Malo, 47. 
 
 overlooks eight MS. pages 
 
 of Autograph ; how it occurred, 
 39 , 40 . 
 
 , orthography of, 374. 
 
 Fire company, first one organized 
 by Franklin, 250. 
 
 , most of the members 
 
 Quakers, 267. 
 
 , anecdotes of, 267, 271. 
 
 Friends. See Quakers. 
 
 Gautier, Madame, procures for 
 Sir Samuel Romilly the privi- 
 lege of reading the Autobiogra- 
 phy of Franklin, 39. 
 
 Gentleman's Magazine, dialogue 
 by Franklin in, 317. 
 
 — , editor of, publishes Frank- 
 
 lin’s letters on electricity, 331. 
 Gibbon, Edward, view of vanity, 70. 
 , obligations to the Provin- 
 cial Letters, 98. 
 
402 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Gibbon, Edward, his views on the 
 study of the dead languages 
 cited, 243. 
 
 Gibelin, Jaques, translates first 
 edition of Memoirs of Frank- 
 lin, 31. 
 
 , how he got possession of 
 
 the MS., 32. 
 
 Gnadenhut, measures for defence 
 at, 318-324. 
 
 Godfrey, Thomas, a glazier, 167. 
 
 , Franklin boards with, 167. 
 
 , member of the Junto, 169, 
 
 262. 
 
 , marriage with his relative 
 
 projected for Franklin, 189. 
 
 , why abandoned, 190. 
 
 Grace, Robert, 170. 
 
 befriends Franklin, 183, 
 
 185, 1 86. 
 
 Graves, Mr., declined the gover- 
 norship of the Colony of Penn- 
 sylvania, 359. 
 
 Greenwood’s Grammar, 99. 
 
 Hall, David, Franklin’s part- 
 ner, 277. 
 
 Hamilton, Mr., sails with Frank- 
 lin to London, 137. 
 
 , interests himself forFrank- 
 
 lin, 182. 
 
 , governor names commis- 
 sioners to treat with Six Na- 
 tions, 294. 
 
 , superseded by Governor 
 
 Morris, 297. 
 
 quits the government, 299. 
 
 Hanbury, John, takes Franklin to 
 see Lord Granville, 352. 
 
 Hancock, John, 20. 
 
 Helvetius, Madame, 22. 
 
 Hemphill, Presbyterian preacher, 
 Franklin attends his church, 
 239- 
 
 convicted of preaching 
 
 borrowed sermons, 240. 
 
 dismissed, 241. 
 
 Holmes, Captain, brother-in-law 
 of Franklin, 117. 
 
 speaks of him to Governor 
 
 Keith, 1 1 7. 
 
 encourages Franklin to 
 
 establish a printing-press in 
 Philadelphia, 120. 
 
 Hopkinson, Thomas, president 
 of Philosophical Society, 263. 
 
 House, George, gives Franklin 
 his first job, 167. 
 
 Howe, Lord, paper relating to 
 negotiations with, supposed to 
 have been suppressed, 44. 
 
 Hume, David, his theory of vani- 
 ty. 73- 
 
 remembers seeing General 
 
 Braddock’s report highly re- 
 commending Franklin, 314. 
 
 Hunter, William, appointed post- 
 master jointly with Franklin, 
 293- 
 
 Innis, his opinion of Lord Lou- 
 doun, 341. 
 
 James, Abel, is shown Memoirs 
 of Franklin, 15. 
 
 Jefferson, Thomas, paper shown 
 him by Franklin supposed to 
 have been suppressed, 43. 
 
 Junto, the, 168. 
 
 , first members, 169. 
 
 , regulations and history, 
 
 171. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 403 
 
 Junto, plan to enlarge its use- 
 fulness, 245. 
 
 Keimer employs Franklin, 115. 
 one of the French pro- 
 phets, 1 16. 
 
 proposes to start a new 
 
 sect, 129. 
 
 , eccentricities of, 129. 
 
 engages Franklin again on 
 
 his return from England, 157. 
 , new quarrel and separa- 
 tion, 160. 
 
 , new engagement with, 162. 
 
 establishes a paper, 177. 
 
 sells it to Franklin, 177. 
 
 Keith, George, Governor of Penn- 
 sylvania, 107. 
 
 Keith, Sir William, visits Frank- 
 lin, and invites him to estab- 
 lish a printing-press, 118. 
 
 proposes to give Franklin 
 
 the money to go to England and 
 buy the equipment for a print- 
 ing-establishment, 127. 
 
 delay in furnishing the let- 
 ters of credit, 136. 
 
 goes to Barbadoes, 187. 
 
 Kennedy, Captain, wager of, 347. 
 
 saves the ship in which 
 
 Franklin sailed to England, 350. 
 Kennedy, Mr., 294. 
 
 Laboulaye, Edward, extract 
 from introduction to his edition 
 of the Autobiography of Dr. 
 Franklin, 55. 
 
 , his services to the United 
 
 States, 55. 
 
 La Rochefoucault, eloge on Frank- 
 lin, extract, 24. 
 
 Lawrence, Colonel, 265. 
 
 Le Veillard, Louis, Mayor of 
 Passy, 7. 
 
 , Franklin prepared his 
 
 Memoirs at request of, 7, 8, 15, 
 18, 25. 
 
 , copy of Memoirs sent to 
 
 himby Franklin, 9, 25, 49, 50, 5 1. 
 
 , letter from, to Dr. Frank- 
 lin, 18. 
 
 , letters to, from William T. 
 
 Franklin, 26, 32, 34-37, 373. 
 378. 
 
 denies all responsibility 
 
 for the first French translation 
 of the Memoirs, 31. 
 
 furnishes the copy from 
 
 which edition of 1817 is printed, 
 
 3 1 - 
 
 guillotined, 38, 51. 
 
 Le Veillard, Madame, exchanges 
 copy of the Autobiography for 
 the original manuscript, 38, 
 39- 
 
 Library, Philadelphia, projected 
 by Franklin, 194. 
 
 The Light-House Tragedy, 93. 
 
 Locke on Human Understanding, 
 98. 
 
 Lodge of Nine Sisters, 367. 
 
 Logan, James, anecdote of Wm. 
 Penn told by, 269. 
 
 Looking-Glass for the Times, 84. 
 
 Lottery proposed by Franklin, 
 264. 
 
 Loudoun, Lord, negotiates with 
 the Assembly, 340. 
 
 , his indecision of character 
 
 illustrated, 340. 
 
 , Pitt’s reason for remov- 
 ing, 342. 
 
4 o4 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Loudoun, Lord, expedition to 
 Louisburg, 342. 
 
 , criticism of his campaign, 
 
 343 - 
 
 , neglects to settle Frank- 
 lin’s accounts, 345, 346. 
 
 Lords of Trade order a congress 
 of commissioners to confer with 
 the Six Nations, 294. 
 
 reject Franklin’s plan of 
 
 a union of the Colonies, 295. 
 
 Macclesfield, Lord, address, as 
 President of the Royal Society, 
 to Dr. Franklin, on presenting 
 him the Copley medal, 335. 
 
 Magnalia Christi Americana, 83. 
 
 Malo, Charles, publishes a col- 
 lection of Franklin’s corres- 
 pondence in France, 47. 
 
 ruthless attack on William 
 
 Temple Franklin, 47, 384. 
 
 , voluminous writer, 47. 
 
 , specimens of his blun- 
 ders, 47. 
 
 Mandeville, Dr., Franklin intro- 
 duced to, 142. 
 
 Mansfield, Lord, negotiations with 
 Franklin, 357. 
 
 Manuscripts of Dr. Franklin left 
 to William Temple Franklin, 
 25, 26. 
 
 Mather, Cotton, 83. 
 
 Essays to do Good, 92. 
 
 Maugridge, William, 170. 
 
 Memoirs of Franklin, at whose 
 instance prepared, 7. 
 
 • left to his grandson, Wil- 
 
 liam Temple Franklin, 7. 
 
 exchanged for a fair copy 
 
 with widow Le Veillard, 8. 
 
 Memoirs of Franklin passed to 
 widow Le V eillard’s daughter, 8. 
 
 passed to M. de Senar- 
 
 mont, 8. 
 
 passed to M. P. de Senar- 
 
 mont, 8. 
 
 — — — passed to John Bigelow, 
 
 8 . 
 
 , collation of, 8. 
 
 , changes in by editors, 
 
 9-14. 
 
 • prepared for the edifica- 
 
 tion of his family, 15. 
 
 , first 87 pages written at 
 
 Twyford, 15. 
 
 shown to B. Vaughan, 
 
 Abel James and M. le Veillard, 
 i5- 
 
 resumed at Passy in 1784, 
 
 15 - 
 
 , reasons for continuing, 
 
 16, 30. 
 
 not mitten to counteract 
 
 Rousseau’s Confession, 17. 
 
 , translations of, 16. 
 
 , letters about, from Dr. 
 
 Franklin to E. Bancroft, 17. 
 
 , letters about, from Dr. 
 
 Franklin to M. le Veillard, 18- 
 22. 
 
 , letters about, from Dr. 
 
 Franklin to Mr. Vaughan, 22, 23. 
 , letters about, from Wil- 
 liam Temple Franklin to M. le 
 Veillard, 19, 26, 32, 34, 35. 
 
 continued in 1 788, 22. 
 
 , all hope of completing, 
 
 abandoned, 22. 
 
 taken to London to be 
 
 published, 19, 26, 32, 34, 35, 36, 
 
 37 - 
 
INDEX. 
 
 4°5 
 
 Memoirs, French translation ap- 
 pears, 28 
 
 , Preface of, 28-31. 
 
 , translation by Jaques Gib- 
 
 elin, 31. 
 
 , how did he obtain the 
 
 manuscript, 32, 
 
 , first English edition of, 34. 
 
 , Sir Samuel Romilly’s de- 
 scription of, 39. 
 
 , omission of eight pages 
 
 from previous editions ex- 
 plained, 39, 40. 
 
 , delay in the publication 
 
 of, by William Temple Frank- 
 lin discussed, 37-47. 
 
 , description of the manu- 
 script, 48. 
 
 , memorandum inscribed 
 
 on the fly-leaf by M. de Senar- 
 mont, 49. 
 
 , transfer of the MS. to 
 
 John Bigelow, 52. 
 
 , Outline of Topics, pre- 
 pared by Dr. Franklin, 52, 60. 
 
 , orthography of, 59, 
 
 , with what intention writ- 
 ten, 194, 
 
 , why interrupted, 194. 
 
 , letters concerning, from 
 
 Abel James and Benj. Vaughan, 
 196-205. 
 
 , Preface to Castera’s edi- 
 tion of, 365. 
 
 Meredith, Hugh, pressman in 
 Keimer’s printing-house, 157. 
 
 — contracts a partnership 
 
 with Franklin, 162. 
 
 , member of the Junto, 170. 
 
 , father of, unable to pay for 
 
 the type, 182. 
 
 Meredith, Hugh, and Franklin 
 sued, 183. 
 
 retires from the partner- 
 ship and goes to North Caro- 
 lina, 184. 
 
 Mickle, Samuel, a croaker ; his 
 advice to Franklin, 168. 
 
 Militia organized by Franklin, 263. 
 
 Mifflin, General, 20. 
 
 Moll Flanders, by De Foe, 108. 
 
 Moravians burned out by Indians 
 at Gnadenhut, 318. 
 
 , measures for defence of, 
 
 319 - 
 
 , Franklin’s account of, 
 
 3I9-32S- 
 
 Morris, James, opposed to a de- 
 fence of the country, anecdote 
 of, 268. 
 
 Morris, Governor, anecdote of, 
 297. 
 
 , disputes with the Assem- 
 bly, 298. 
 
 , friendly relations with 
 
 Franklin, 298. 
 
 , anecdote of, 299. 
 
 repla^d by Capt. Denny, 
 
 30°. 
 
 , anecdote of, 316. 
 
 Morris, Gouverneur, named Min- 
 ister to France, 37. 
 
 — , an appointment not agree- 
 
 able to the National Assembly, 
 
 37 - 
 
 New England Courant found- 
 ed by James Franklin, 101. 
 
 , James forbidden to print 
 
 it, 105. 
 
 New Jersey, William Franklin 
 governor of, 9. 
 
40 6 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Nollet, Abbe, writes a book ques- 
 tioning Franklin’s theory of 
 electricity, 332. 
 
 , Franklin declines to an- 
 swer him, 332. 
 
 , M. le Roy replies to him, 
 
 333- 
 
 Norris, Speaker of the Assembly, 
 280. 
 
 , named commissioner to 
 
 treat with the Indians, 280, 
 294. 
 
 Osborne, Charles, scrivener’s 
 clerk, 131. 
 
 , trick played on, 132. 
 
 , became an eminent law- 
 yer, 135- 
 
 , singular agreement with 
 
 Franklin, 135. 
 
 Ovid cited, 209. 
 
 Pamela of Richardson, 108. 
 
 Paine, Thomas, 370. 
 
 Palmer’s printing-house, where 
 Franklin first worked in Lon- 
 don, 141. 
 
 Paper money, clamor for more, 
 '185. 
 
 — , Franklin writes a pamph- 
 let on, 186. 
 
 Paris, Ferdinand John, Franklin’s 
 description of, 355. 
 
 writes the message of the 
 
 Proprietaries to the Assembly, 
 355- 
 
 Parsons, William, 170, 262. 
 
 Passy, M. le Veillard Mayor of, 
 and friend of Franklin, 7, 38, 
 39, 49- 
 
 Pembroke, Lord, Franklin visits 
 house and gardens of, at Wil- 
 ton, 350. 
 
 Poor Richard's Altnanac pro- 
 jected, 235. 
 
 , popularity of, 236. 
 
 Postmaster, Franklin appointed, 
 247, 293- 
 
 Pownall, Governor, sent to New 
 York for aid, 300. 
 
 Price, Dr., copy of Memoirs sent 
 to, 25. 
 
 Priestly, Dr. 353. 
 
 Proprietaries, hereditary quarrels, 
 299. 
 
 refused to have their 
 
 estates taxed for their defence, 
 299, 3 i6 > 317, 327- 
 
 , their instructions dis- 
 obeyed by Capt. Denny, 300. 
 
 indignant at military hon- 
 ors paid to Franklin, 327. 
 
 accuse Franklin to the 
 
 Ministry, 328. 
 
 meet with Franklin at T. 
 
 Penn’s house, 354. 
 
 ■ ■■ — , Franklin gives them, in 
 writing, heads of the colonists’ 
 complaints, 355. 
 
 -, they complain of rude- 
 ness to the Assembly, 355. 
 
 Provincial Letters, 98. 
 
 Pythagoras’ Golden Verses cited, 
 
 217. 
 
 “ Plain Truth ” written by Frank- 
 lin, 263. 
 
 Philadelphia regiment, 264. 
 
 Plutarch’s Lives, 92. 
 
 Philosophical Society projected, 
 260. 
 
 , history of, 261. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Philosophical Society, list of orig- 
 inal members of, 262. 
 
 Philadelphia, Franklin determines 
 to go there, 107. 
 
 , Franklin lands at Market 
 
 street wharf, in. 
 
 , Franklin projects the 
 
 Library in, 194. 
 
 , Philosophical Society 
 
 founded in, 262. 
 
 Penn, William, anecdote of, 269. 
 
 Penn, Thomas, commissioner to 
 treat with the Indians, 294. 
 
 Pennsylvania Gazette founded, 
 
 177 - 
 
 purchased by Franklin, 
 
 177. 
 
 , extracts from, 178. 
 
 , mode of conducting, 
 
 237 - 
 
 Pennsylvania, Governor of, ap- 
 proves Franklin’s plan of union 
 of the Colonies, 297. 
 
 Pennsylvania Hospital founded, 
 281. 
 
 ■ — , bill to incorporate intro- 
 duced, 283. 
 
 Peters, Rev. Mr., 260. 
 
 Peters, Mr., Secretary of Assem- 
 bly, commissioned to treat with 
 the Six Nations, 294. 
 
 Quakers, 266. 
 
 not opposed to the armed 
 
 defence of the Colony, 266. 
 
 , anecdote respecting, 266. 
 
 , address to them by Mr. 
 
 Logan in favor of defending the 
 Colony, 269. 
 
 , their embarrassments, 
 
 270, 271. 
 
 4°7 
 
 Quakers decline public service in 
 Assembly, 273. 
 
 Querard, 31. 
 
 Quincy, Mr., sent to Pennsylvania 
 for aid, 300. 
 
 , friendship for Franklin, 
 
 3 OI< 
 
 Ralph, James, 132. 
 
 , fond of writing verses, 
 
 132. 
 
 -, trick played by him on 
 
 Osborne, 132. 
 
 satirized in the Dunciad, 
 
 134 - 
 
 goes to England with 
 
 Franklin, 136. 
 
 borrows money of Frank- 
 lin, 140. 
 
 intrigue with a milliner, 
 
 143 - 
 
 opens a school, 144. 
 
 quarrels with Franklin, 
 
 146. 
 
 , Governor Denny’s opin- 
 ion of, 338. 
 
 Read, Miss, first sees Franklin, 
 
 1 12. 
 
 , Franklin goes to board 
 
 with her father, 116. 
 
 , courtship of, by Franklin 
 
 suspended, 130. 
 
 marries Rogers, a potter, 
 
 155 - 
 
 marries Franklin, 191. 
 
 , Franklin’s opinion of her, 
 
 192. 
 
 , poetry on her, 192. 
 
 Religious Courtship, by De Foe, 
 108. 
 
 Richardson’s Pamela, 10S. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 40S 
 
 Rhoads, Samuel, 262. 
 
 Rochefoucault. See La Roche- 
 foucault. 
 
 Rogers, first husband of Miss 
 Read, 155. 
 
 ran away to the West In- 
 dies, 156. 
 
 Rogier, Abbe, 376. 
 
 Romilly, Sir Samuel, inspects the 
 original MS. of Franklin’s Me- 
 moirs, 39. 
 
 Rousseau, Confessions of, 17,365. 
 
 Royal Society, a summary of 
 Franklin’s electrical experi- 
 ments published in Transac- 
 tions of, 334. 
 
 , flattering conditions of 
 
 Franklin’s election into, 334. 
 
 Rose, Aquila, Philadelphia prin- 
 ter, 107. 
 
 , his death, 107. 
 
 , Elegy on, 115. 
 
 Scull, Nicholas, 169. 
 
 Seller & Shermy’s Navigation, 98. 
 
 De Senarmont, M., 8, 31, 38, 49, 
 50, 51, 52. 
 
 Shaftesbury, 99. 
 
 Shipley, Dr., Franklin commenced 
 his Memoirs while visiting, 15, 
 65 - 
 
 , friend of Franklin and of 
 
 the Colonies, 65. 
 
 , letters about, from Dr. 
 
 Franklin, 65, 66. 
 
 , letters from the Doctor 
 
 about him on hearing of his 
 death, 66. 
 
 Shirley, Governor, 296. 
 
 • , secretary of General 
 
 Eraddock, killed, 312. 
 
 Shirley, General, appoints com- 
 missioners to examine Frank- 
 lin’s claims, 315. 
 
 , Franklin’s comparison of, 
 
 with Lord Loudoun, 343. 
 
 , anecdote of, 345. 
 
 Short, Mr., named minister to 
 Holland, 37. 
 
 Six Nations, conference with, 294. 
 
 Sloane, Sir Hans, purchases an 
 asbestos purse of P'ranklin, 143. 
 
 Socratic method, 99. 
 
 Sparks’, Jared, conjectures about 
 Wm. T. Franklin’s motives for 
 delaying the publication of his 
 grandfather’s works, 42-44, 59. 
 
 Spence, Dr., Franklin purchases 
 philosophical apparatus of, 278. 
 
 Spottiswood, Colonel, appoints 
 Franklin deputy postmaster, 
 247 - 
 
 Streets, cleaning, lighting and 
 paving of, 285, 287. 
 
 , sweeping of, proposal to 
 
 Dr. Fothergill, 288. 
 
 , anecdote respecting street- 
 sweeping, 289. 
 
 St. Clair. See Clair. 
 
 Taylor, Abram, 265. 
 
 Tennent, Gilbert, 285. 
 
 Thomas, Governor, 271. 
 
 offers Franklin a patent 
 
 for his stove, 274. 
 
 , conference at his house 
 
 in London, 354. 
 
 Tinck, Franklin’s maitre d’hotel, 
 anecdote of, 99. 
 
 De St. Try, M., 375. 
 
 Tryon, author of a book recom- 
 mending a vegetable diet, 97. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 University of Pennsylvania. 
 See Academy. 
 
 Union Fire Company projected 
 by Franklin, 250. 
 
 V anity considered by Dr. Frank- 
 lin one of the comforts of life, 
 68-73. 
 
 — , Gibbon’s view of, 70. 
 
 , Hume’s view of, 73. 
 
 Vaughan, Benj., is shown Memoirs 
 
 of Franklin, 15. 
 
 — , letters to, from Dr. Frank- 
 
 lin, 22, 23, 386. 
 
 — , Franklin asks his advice 
 
 about the Memoirs, 23. 
 Veillard. See Le Veillard. 
 Vernon gives Franklin an order 
 to collect some money, 122. 
 
 asks Franklin for it, 182. 
 
 Villele, M. de la, 367. 
 
 Washington, General, 20. 
 Water American, The, why so 
 called, 146. 
 
 Watson, Joseph, 13 1, 132. 
 
 , death of, 135. 
 
 Watson, Dr., prepared a sum- 
 mary of Franklin’s electrical 
 experiments for Royal Society, 
 334 - 
 
 Watts’ printing-house, Franklin 
 is employed in, 146, 147. 
 
 409 
 
 Webb, compositor in Keimer’s 
 printing-office, 157. 
 
 — , Franklin’s account of, 158. 
 
 Welfare, Michael, his account of 
 the creed of the Dunkers, 
 272. 
 
 Whitefield, Rev. Mr., visits Phil- 
 adelphia, 231. 
 
 , his popularity, 232. 
 
 , church built for him, 
 
 253 - 
 
 asks money to build an 
 
 orphan asylum in Georgia, 254. 
 
 , his success, 255. 
 
 , his oratory, 237. 
 
 Windham, Sir Wm., asks Frank- 
 lin to teach his sons to swim, 
 154. 
 
 Wolfe, General, 342. 
 
 Worthilake, Capt., drowning of, 
 93 - 
 
 Wright, Dr., wrote to a member 
 of the Royal Society about 
 Franklin’s electrical experi- 
 ments, 334. 
 
 Wygate, Franklin teaches to 
 swim, 151. 
 
 Xenophon’s Memorabilia, 99. 
 
 Young, Dr., satire on the folly 
 of pursuing the Muses quoted, 
 144. 
 
 THE END.