Benjamin exchanged, replying, "And let it be a pledge of friendship forever."
"And a pledge, also, of faithful correspondence with each other," added Collinson, as they shook hands and parted.
TheBerkshire, Henry Clark, master, was eighty-two days on its voyage to Philadelphia. Benjamin landed there on the 11th day of October, 1726: and he was at home again.
[3] "Life and Times of Benjamin Franklin," vol. i. p. 136.
One of the first places that Benjamin visited was the printing house of Keimer, where he worked before leaving the country. Keimer had made up his mind that Benjamin would never return to America, so that when he entered the printing office he was startled.
"Why, Ben! can it be you?" he exclaimed in wonder. "I began to think that you would never be seen in Philadelphia again."
"Why did you think so?"
"Because you planned to be back here a long time ago; I concluded that you had forsaken us."
"Not yet; I have seen no place abroad quite equal to Philadelphia. I did not return as soon as I expected." And Benjamin rehearsed to Keimer substantially his experience with Governor Keith, that he might understand why his return was delayed.
"That is what you got for concealing your purpose," said Keimer. "I could have told you that Keith was wholly unreliable, and so could a good many other people. He has been turned out of office because of his rascality."
"I am glad to hear that. I am a little curious to see how he will act, and hear what he will say, when I meet him."
"He won't meet you if he can help it. I see him occasionally on the street, and he looks crestfallen."
"He will look more so, I imagine, when he meets me. I propose to talk matters over very plainly with him."
"That can do no good. The less breath you waste in that way, the better for you," replied Keimer. "But I suppose you want to go to work at your old trade? Plenty of work here, and you are just the man to do it."
Keimer's business had increased largely, and he had added many facilities for doing work, so that the establishment presented a more attractive appearance.
"No; I am a printer no longer," answered Benjamin. "I am booked for the mercantile business in Philadelphia"
"How is that? Were you not a printer in London?"
"Yes, I followed my trade there, and learned more about it than I ever knew before. London is a great place for printing. Two printing houses there, with more than fifty hands in each."
"Think you can do better in trading than printing?" asked Keimer, who was really anxious for Benjamin's services.
"Not exactly so. But I should be in London now, had not Mr. Denham's offer to become his clerk brought me home." And Benjamin told the story of his acquaintance with Mr. Denham and the outcome, which was his offer to make him his business manager.
"A good opportunity, I should think, if you like that business," answered Keimer; "but I should like to put you in manager of my printing office. You have had the experience, and understand the business much better than any man I have."
"That is out of the question now, of course, as I am under obligations to Mr. Denham."
"Of course; I only meant to tell you what I would do if you were at liberty."
Benjamin was anxious to learn about Miss Read, whom he was quite ashamed to meet because of his neglect. Keimer was acquainted with the family, and first introduced him to them, as was stated in a former chapter. So that he had no doubt he would know all about Deborah. He ventured to inquire:
"What can you tell me about Mrs. Read and her daughter?"
"Mrs. Read lives where she did, and continues to take a few boarders. Her daughter was married to a miserable fellow, nearly a year ago, but lived with him only a few weeks, when she left him."
"Indeed! That was unfortunate for her," Benjamin answered. "She deserves a better experience than that."
"She would not have married, had she been left to her own choice, but her mother and other friends persuaded her. Rogers was her husband's name, and he was a potter by trade, a first-class workman; and they thought he was capable of getting a good living, I suppose."
"A good character would have been of more service to him," suggestedBenjamin; "a very unfortunate affair."
"I was going to sway," continued Keimer, "that she had been married but a few weeks before she found that Rogers had another wife. Of course her marriage was not legal, and she left him at once."
"Probably her mother made no inquiry about Rogers' character beforehand," remarked Benjamin. "Mothers ought to be wiser than that."
"We all have to live and learn, and experience is our best schoolmaster," added Keimer.
Keimer knew nothing of Benjamin's relation to Deborah Read, so that he spoke freely. The revelation was startling to Benjamin, and it set him to thinking. He concluded that Mrs. Read inferred from his first and only letter to Deborah that he would never return, or never be in a situation to support a wife and family; and, as time went on, and no other letters were received, she became fixed in her conclusion that he would not return. Benjamin took all the blame upon himself; and the honest sympathy of his heart asserted itself for the girl. He resolved to call upon her as soon as possible and confess his wrong-doing, ask her forgiveness, and renew his attentions.
"I should have said," Keimer added, "that Deborah has not changed her name. She refuses to be called Mrs. Rogers, and is still called Miss Read by her friends. This is all right, I suppose, because her marriage was illegal."
"Very wise for her, I think," responded Benjamin. "But she may consider herself fortunate to get released from such a bondage."
He improved the first opportunity to call at Mrs. Read's, to whom he appeared as one from the dead. She had not heard of his arrival, nor that he was expected. TheAmerican Weekly Mercury, the only newspaper of the town, announced, "Entered inwards, shipBerkshire, Henry Clark, from London." That was all; nothing was said about any passengers.
"Benjamin Franklin!" exclaimed Mrs. Read in great astonishment, throwing up her hands at first, as if fearing it was his ghost, and then giving him a most cordial welcome. "Can it be you?"
"It can be," Benjamin replied, with his old-time familiarity, being reassured by Mrs. Read's friendly appearance. "If I know myself, this is Benjamin Franklin."
Deborah made her appearance before the last words were fairly off the lips of the new comer, equally surprised and glad to see her old friend.
"I am really ashamed to meet you, Deborah, after my inexcusable neglect," he said, "and first of all I ask you to forgive me. It scarcely seems possible to myself that I should treat you so."
Before Deborah had time to reply her mother spoke:
"If there is any blame to be attached to any one, it is to me; for I opposed your engagement, and entreated Deborah to marry that apology for a man Rogers."
"But all that does not excuse me for not writing to Deborah," responded Benjamin "It was very wrong in me to treat her with such neglect. And I did not intend to do so; I meant to continue the correspondence, but one thing and another prevented for so long a time, that I really was ashamed to write."
"Well, it is all over now, and there is no help for what has been done, except to learn a good lesson from it for the future, if we are all bright enough to do that."
Mrs. Read swept the deck by these last remarks. There was no obstacle now to consummate an engagement with Deborah. She did not tell Benjamin to go ahead and make sure of his bird now, that she would not interpose the slightest objection; but she might as well have said so; and he so understood it, so that he felt perfectly at ease.
Deborah Read had never lost her first love, and never wholly abandoned the idea that her lover would return. She had no love for Rogers when she married him; she married him to please her mother. Now, her love for Benjamin was as fresh and strong as ever; and so was his love for her. Their intimacy was renewed, an engagement consummated.
Benjamin was twenty years old—a fine-appearing, handsome young man. Mr. Denham thought so, and so did Deborah Read. The first was fortunate in securing him for his clerk, and the second was equally fortunate in securing him for her future husband. And Benjamin himself was as fortunate as either of them in having such an employer as Denham, and such a betrothed as Deborah. It was a tidal wave of good fortune now.
"And I am prepared to go to work at once."
"I will pay you extra wages to take the whole charge of the printing office, so that I can give my attention to the stationer's shop."
"I can do that, or any thing else you desire; am not at all particular. I am now twenty-one years old, and ought to be a man any way, and do the best I can wherever I am put."
Keimer's offer was liberal, and Benjamin accepted it, and entered upon his work as superintendent of the printing house, a very responsible position. But, in a short time, he had good reason to believe that Keimer paid him so liberal wages because he wanted the poor printers to improve under his superintendence; and when that end was accomplished, he would cut down his wages, or hire another man for less money. However, he went to work with a will, as he always did, resolved to do the best he could for his employer.
As the workmen improved under Benjamin's supervision, Keimer evidently began to think of discharging him, or cutting down his wages. On paying his second quarter's wages, he told him that he could not continue to pay him so much. He became uncivil in his treatment, frequently found fault with him, and plainly tried to make his situation uncomfortable so that he would leave. At length a rare opportunity offered for him to make trouble. An unusual noise in the street one day caused Benjamin to put his head out of the window to learn what was the matter. Keimer happened to be in the street, and seeing him, cried out:
"Put your head in and attend to your business," adding some reproachful words which all the people around him heard. Then hastening up stairs into the office, he continued his insulting language.
"Men who work for me must give better heed to their business. If they care more for a noise in the street than they do for their work, it is high time they left."
"I am ready to leave any time you please," retorted Benjamin, nettled by such uncalled-for treatment. "I am not dependent on you for a living, and I shall not bear such treatment long, I assure you."
"That, indeed!" replied Keimer, derisively. "You would not stay another day were it not for our agreement, in accordance with which I now warn you that, at the end of this quarter, I shall cease to employ you."
"And I will notify you that I shall not work another minute for you. A man who is neither honest, nor a gentleman, does not deserve the service of decent men." Benjamin was aroused.
And, as he spoke these last cutting words, he took his hat and left.As he passed down, he said to Meredith:
"Bring all my things to my lodgings."
In the evening, Meredith carried all the articles belonging toBenjamin to his boarding-place, where he had a long interview.
"Keimer lost the last claim for respect that he had on his men to-day," said Meredith. "Not a man in his establishment, who does not condemn his course."
"Just what I expected. He does not want to pay me my price, now that the men have learned their business. This was the first occasion he has had to drive me off." Benjamin spoke with the utmost coolness.
"It is the worst act for himself that he has done," continued Meredith. "Every man he employs would leave him if work could be had elsewhere."
"I think I shall return to Boston, whether I remain there or not. It is a good time for me to visit my friends."
"I have something better than that to suggest. My thoughts have been busy on it all day, and I wanted to see you about it to-night before you laid any plans." Meredith's manner indicated something of importance.
"What have you to propose? I am ready for any practicable enterprise you can name."
"I want to set up the printing business for myself, and I am not sufficiently acquainted with it, and you are. Can we not arrange to go into business together?"
Meredith's proposition took Benjamin by surprise, and evidently seemed impracticable to him.
"And have poverty for our capital?" replied Benjamin with a laugh. "I am about as rich as you are."
"No; have money for our capital, all that is necessary to start us well in business," answered Meredith.
"That would be fine, I declare; but I would like to see the money first," added Benjamin, before Meredith could explain.
"Hold on a minute, let me explain, and you will see that my plan is not so impracticable as you seem to think. My father has money; and he has always said that he would start me in business whenever I got a good knowledge of it. He knows, of course, that I have not that knowledge yet; but he knows, too, that a man who can run Keimer's establishment has the requisite knowledge, and would be a good partner for me."
"But your father will never advance the necessary capital," interrupted Benjamin. "If I was ten years older he might do it."
"I am confident that he will; at any rate, I will consult him about the matter, and learn just what he will do. I have told him all about you, and he will think it is a good opportunity for me."
Meredith consulted his father, and received the prompt answer:
"Yes, I will do it gladly. I know of no young man I would select for your partner in preference to Franklin."
In a subsequent interview with Benjamin, Mr. Meredith said:
"I am all the more ready to furnish the capital, because your influence over my son has been so good. You influenced him to stop drinking when he was fast becoming intemperate, and I shall always feel grateful for it. You are just the one to be intimately associated with him."
It was settled that they should enter into partnership, and start their business as soon as the necessary outfit could be obtained from England.
Benjamin began to reflect much upon his religious opinions (or, rather, irreligious), on his return voyage from England, as related to the errors and mistakes of his life. He had much time, during those three long, wearisome months, to study himself, past and present. Evidently he came to possess a more correct knowledge of himself on that voyage than he ever had before. He was so sincere in the matter that he drew up a number of rules by which to regulate his future life. A year and more afterwards he enlarged and perfected this code of morals. The rules which he adopted on theBerkshirewere prefaced with the following paragraph:
"Those who write of the art of poetry teach us that, if we would write what may be worth reading, we ought always, before we begin, to form a regular plan and design of our piece, otherwise we shall be in danger of incongruity. I am apt to think it is the same as to life. I have never fixed a regular design of life, by which means it has been a confused variety of different scenes. I am now entering upon a new one; let me, therefore, make some resolutions, and form some scheme of action, that thenceforth I may live like a rational creature."
The closing sentence shows that his conscience was making him considerable trouble, and that he concluded his life had been very irrational. Perhaps he thought of Collins, whom he made a free thinker, and of Ralph, whom he corrupted in the same way. One of them became a drunkard, and the other a polygamist; both of them cheating him out of a sum of money; might not their free thinking be related to their immoralities? He could not help thinking of these things, and so he wrote down the following rules:
"1. It is necessary for me to be extremely frugal for some time till I have paid what I owe.
"2. To endeavor to speak truth in every instance; to give nobody expectations that are not likely to be answered, but aim at sincerity in every word and action; the most amiable excellence in a rational being.
"3. To apply myself industriously to whatever business I take in hand, and not divert my mind from my business by any foolish project of growing suddenly rich; for industry and patience are the surest means of plenty.
"4. I resolve to speak ill of no man whatever, not even in a matter of truth; but rather by some means excuse the faults I hear charged upon others, and, upon proper occasions, speak all the good I know of every body."
This was not all he wrote to guide his future career; but we have cited enough to show the current of Benjamin's thoughts at the time of which we are speaking. We shall see hereafter that he did not cease to reflect upon his career, and resolve upon a nobler life.
Soon after his return from England, perhaps after the death of Mr. Denham, Benjamin organized a literary club, composed, at first, of eleven members, all of them more or less talented and desirous of self-improvement, and nearly all of them mechanics, which fact caused the institution to be christened "THE LEATHERN-APRON CLUB," although the real name of it, as suggested by Franklin, was "THE JUNTO."
The society was patterned after one formed by Cotton Mather in Boston. The first thing done at their meetings was to read the following questions, pausing after reading each for any remarks or propositions members might desire to make. The principal questions were as follows:
"1. Is there any remarkable disorder in the place that requires our endeavor for the suppression of it? And in what fair, likely way may we endeavor it?
"2. Is there any particular person, whose disorderly behavior may be so scandalous and notorious that we may do well to send unto the said person our charitable admonitions? Or, are there any contending persons whom we should admonish to quench their contentions?
"3. Is there any special service to the interest of Religion which we may conveniently desire our ministers to take notice of?
"4. Is there any thing we may do well to mention unto the justices for the further promoting good order?
"5. Is there any sort of officers among us to such a degree unmindful of their duty that we may do well to mind them of it?
"6. Can any further methods be devised that ignorance and wickedness may be chased from our people in general, and that household piety in particular may flourish among them?
"7. Does there appear any instance of oppression or fraudulence in the dealings of any sort of people that may call for our essays to get it rectified?
"8. Is there any matter to be humbly moved unto the Legislative Power, to be enacted into a Law for the public benefit?
"9. Do we know of any person languishing under sore and sad affliction; and is there any thing we can do for the succor of such an afflicted neighbor?
"10. Has any person any proposal to make for our own further advantage and assistance, that we ourselves may be in a probable and regular capacity to pursue the intention before us?"
"I should pronounce that an ingenious society for doing good and getting good," said Coleman, after the questions were read.
"It was so, and Cotton Mather himself was a member of twenty of these societies," said Benjamin. "They became very popular, and I recall with what interest my father participated in the meetings. I often accompanied him, and, young as I was, they were very interesting to me. It was that fact which suggested the questions I have reported for our club."
When a person united with the Junto, he was required to stand up, lay his hand on his heart, and answer the following questions:
"1. Have you any particular disrespect to any present member?
"Answer. I have not.
"2. Do you sincerely declare that you love mankind in general, of what profession or religion soever?
"Answer. I do.
"3. Do you think any person ought to be harmed in his body, name, or goods, for mere speculative opinion, or his external way of worship?
"Answer. No.
"4. Do you love truth for truth's sake; and will you endeavor impartially to find and receive it yourself, and communicate it to others?
"Answer. Yes."
At one of their earliest meetings Benjamin proposed that each member (the number of members was limited to twelve) should bring his books to the club-room for reference during their discussions.
"A capital idea," said Coleman, "and I would suggest that each member have the privilege of reading the books belonging to other members."
"Another good idea," rejoined Benjamin; "I second that motion with all my heart."
"It will not take any one of us a great while to read all the books we can muster," suggested Potts.
At that time there was no bookstore in Philadelphia, nor was there one of considerable note anywhere in the Colonies, except in Boston. The people of Philadelphia sent to England for the books they wanted, which was expensive and inconvenient.
After this plan had been successfully used for several months,Benjamin made another proposition.
"I propose that we establish a library, interesting parties outside to join us in the enterprise."
"Raising money for the same by subscription, do you mean?" inquiredMaugridge.
"Yes; unless there is a better way of doing it."
"I doubt if outsiders can be interested to join us in such a project," said Grace. "Few people care enough about books to put money into such an enterprise."
"Perhaps so; but we can try; if we fail we shall still be as well off as we are now," was Benjamin's answer. "Unless we make the effort we shall never know what we can do."
"And you are the one to solicit subscriptions, Ben," remarked Godfrey. "If anybody can succeed, you can. If I should undertake and fail, as I should, it would not prove that the scheme is impracticable."
"I am perfectly willing to solicit subscriptions, and I will begin at once and be able to report success or failure at the next meeting," was Benjamin's generous offer.
At the following meeting he was able to report success, so far as he had been able to work; and he continued until fifty young tradesmen had pledged forty shillings each as a subscription, and, in addition, ten shillings per annum. This was unexpected success, and the members of the Junto were highly elated. Thus was established the first circulating library in this country. Benjamin Franklin was the author of it; and that library numbers now one hundred thousand volumes. Since that day the library scheme has proved so beneficial to individuals and the public, that there are thousands of circulating libraries in the land. Almost every town of two or three thousand inhabitants has one. It must not be forgotten, however, that Benjamin Franklin conceived and reduced the idea to practice.
The following are some of the questions discussed by members of theJunto:
"Is sound an entity or body?
"How may the phenomenon of vapors be explained?
"Is self-interest the rudder that steers mankind, the universal monarch 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 possession of the lakes be improved to our advantage?
"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 the least criminal, abadaction joined with agoodintention, or agoodaction with abadintention?
"Is it inconsistent with the principles of liberty in a free government, to punish a man as a libeller when he speaks the truth?"
The foregoing Rules and Questions show that it could not have been an ordinary class of young men to meet and discuss such subjects. Benjamin's talent is manifest both in the organization and the themes considered.
Improvements have been the order of the day since the Junto was organized; but we doubt if there has been much improvement upon the Junto in literary organizations for the young. It is not surprising, that, of the original twelve members, two became surveyors-general; one the inventor of a quadrant; one a distinguished mechanic and influential man; one a merchant of great note and a provincial judge, and all but one respected and honored men. At the same time, Benjamin, the founder, became "Minister to the Court of St. James," "Minister Plenipotentiary to France," and the greatest Statesman and Philosopher of America, in the eighteenth century.
In old age Doctor Franklin said of the Junto: "It 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 on the several subjects, that we might speak more to the purpose; and here, too, we acquired better habits of conversation, every thing being studied in our rules which might prevent our disgusting each other."
The Junto was copied in England fifty years after Benjamin organized it in Philadelphia, by Cleming Jenkinson (who became Earl of Liverpool) and others; and, within it, they began careers that became illustrious. It has been copied in different parts of our own land down to the present day, blessing the people and the country in more ways than one.
"I can tell you how to get over the difficulty," said Benjamin: "let each member get up a club of twelve, and that will give a chance for one hundred and forty-four members."
"And when that number is attained, I suppose you will have each one of the one hundred and forty-four organize a Junto, and that will make the membership seventeen hundred and twenty-eight, enough to constitute a good township," suggested Coleman, who did not endorse Benjamin's plan.
"One Junto will be of more service to members, as well as to the public, than a dozen can be, only abolish the limit to twelve members, and allow all who desire to join," was Coleman's view.
"More interesting, also, to have a larger number of members," suggested Parsons. "Numbers create enthusiasm."
"And numbers often create friction, too," retorted Benjamin; "we want to avoid both shoals and rocks."
"Another thing that I object to very much is this: if each one of us organizes another Junto, we no longer associate with each other—the very thing for which this Junto was organized." This was the strongest objection that Coleman urged.
"That is the selfish side of the question," suggested Benjamin. "On the other hand, there will be twelve times as many persons to be benefited. If we twelve are benefited, how much better and grander to have one hundred and forty-four benefited!"
"Ben is right; and I am of the opinion that the sooner we adopt this plan the better. It will be unpleasant to sacrifice our social connections to form new ones, but the new ones may become equally pleasant." Scull thus supported Benjamin's proposition; and so did Meredith, Maugridge, and others.
This discussion arose from the popularity of the Junto. It became so popular that large numbers of persons wanted to join it, and besought the members to abolish the rule limiting the membership to twelve. Hence, Benjamin's proposition to meet the exigency, which was carried, with this amendment:
"The new clubs shall be auxiliary to this, the original one, each reporting its proceedings to the parent society, that one harmonious purpose and plan may characterize all."
All the members did not organize a club, but five or six did, and these clubs flourished for many years, blessing the town and the whole colony.
The Junto was not many months old, when Benjamin made another proposition.
"The books we read have words and phrases in other languages, and I do not know their meaning. I studied Latin some in Boston, before I was ten years old, and Latin words I can guess at, but French I can't. Suppose we study French."
"You can study it if you want to," replied Scull, "but I have not the time for another study."
"And I have not the taste for it," said Meredith. "One language is all that I can handle, and I can't handle that as I want to."
"I like the suggestion," responded Coleman "and can give a little time to French, though not a great deal. If Ben becomes an expert linguist he can translate the foreign words and phrases for us."
"That last suggestion is best of all," remarked Parsons. "Ben can go ahead and become a linguist for our benefit. That is the benevolent side of this question," punning on his argument for the benevolent side of the club question.
Whether other members of the Junto studied the languages we have no means of knowing, but Benjamin did, with remarkable success. First he studied French, and when he could read it quite well, he took up Italian and Spanish. By this time he became so interested in foreign languages that he revived his acquaintance with Latin, becoming quite a good scholar therein. It was a mystery to his companions how he found time to accomplish so much; but he did it by method and industry, improving the smallest fragments of time, working early and late. He was very fond of playing chess; but he denied himself the pleasure wholly in order that he might have the more time for study. While at Keimer's he found more time for reading and hard study, because his employer observed Saturday as his Sabbath, giving only five days in the week to work.
It would require several months for the printing outfit ordered from England to reach Philadelphia. In the mean time, Benjamin was considering what to do; and, while canvassing the field, he received the following note from Keimer:
"PHILADELPHIA, 10 Dec., 1727.
"Dear Sir,—It is not wise for old friends like you and I to separate for a few words spoken in passion. I was very hasty, and am sorry for it. I want my old foreman back again at the old price. I have plenty of work, and if you think well of my proposition, come and see me.
"Yours truly,
Benjamin's first impulse was to destroy the letter and take no further notice of it. But the second, sober thought led him to consult Meredith, who continued to work for Keimer. Meredith read the letter, and said:
"I should advise you to accept his proposition, as you have nothing to do."
"But can you tell me what selfish end he has in view, for Keimer would never come down like that unless he had an axe to grind?" Benjamin said.
"Most certainly I can. He can have a government job if he can do the work. The Province of New Jersey is going to make a new issue of paper money, and he can get the job; but you are the only printer in Philadelphia who can do that work, so he wants you."
"I knew there must be something of that sort, or he never would have asked for my work again. He is too contemptible a man to work for." Benjamin spoke with much feeling; and he was right, too.
"But here is the point," continued Meredith. "I am poorly equipped to set up business for myself, and you can teach me. It will be anywhere from six to eight months before our outfit arrives from England, so here is a good opportunity for me to improve."
"I suppose that is the best way of looking at it; but Keimer has so little manhood about him that I have no respect for him. I dislike to work for a man whom I despise, and can't help it." Benjamin's language showed that it was almost too much to ask him to return to Keimer's printing office; but Meredith persevered.
"For my sake, I want you should decide to accept the proposition. Keimer has made an apology, so that you can return without compromising your manhood at all. It looks to me as if it were wiser to accept his proposal than to decline it."
"I will sleep over it to-night before I decide, and let you know in the morning," replied Benjamin, as he took his leave.
In the morning Benjamin put in his appearance at Keimer's office, ready for work. He received a hearty welcome, and was at once apprized of the paper-money job of New Jersey.
Benjamin succeeded in contriving and completing a copper-plate press; and when cuts and ornaments were all ready, Keimer and he proceeded to Burlington, N.J., where they remained three months to fulfill the contract. It proved a rare school for Benjamin. It brought him in contact with many prominent men, who were of much assistance to him afterwards. He was so much more intelligent than Keimer, that the latter was of little consequence, as very little notice was taken of him. One day Isaac Decon, the surveyor-general, said to him:
"You are complete master of your business, and success is before you."
"I have improved my opportunities," modestly answered Benjamin, "and done the best I could to learn my trade. I don't like the half-way method of doing business."
"I commenced business in a very humble way," continued Decon, "without dreaming that I should ever possess such an estate as I do now."
"What was your business?"
"I wheeled clay for the brickmakers, and had no opportunity of going to school in my boyhood. I did not learn to write until I became of age. I acquired my knowledge of surveying when I carried a chain for surveyors, who were pleased with my desire to learn the business, and assisted me. By constant industry, and close application, and not a little perseverance, I have succeeded in reaching the place where you now see me."
"That is the only way any person ever reached an honorable position," remarked Benjamin, after listening to the interesting story of success.
"You are right in that view, and one-half of the battle is fought when correct views of life are fixed. When an employer like Keimer is inferior to his employee in ability, tact, and enterprise, there is a very poor show for him. If you set up for yourself in Philadelphia, you will work him completely out of his business."
Late in the spring of 1728 the printing outfit arrived from England. Benjamin and Meredith had settled with Keimer, who was unusually happy because his profits on his paper-money job in New Jersey had tided him over very discouraging embarrassments. Keimer knew nothing of their plans, however, when a settlement was consummated, as both had kept the secret. The first intimation that he, or the public, had of such an enterprise, was the opening of their printing house in the lower part of Market Street—"FRANKLIN & MEREDITH."
"Here's a man looking for a printer," said George House, an old friend of Benjamin. "He inquired of me where he could get a job done, and I told him that here was the place above all others."
"Thank you for the advertisement, George. Yes, sir, we can serve you here at short notice. What will you have done?" Benjamin won the customer over at once by his genial, familiar way.
The man made known his wants; and it proved to be a five-shilling job, all the more acceptable because it was the first.
With the members of the Junto all interested in his success, and the public men of New Jersey, who made his acquaintance at Burlington, Benjamin's business was soon well advertised. Many people were taken by surprise, and most of them predicted a failure, since there were two printers in town already. One day Samuel Nickle, an old citizen of the town, known somewhat as a croaker, was passing by, and, looking up, he read the sign.
"Another printing house!" he said to himself. "And two in town already! Who can be so thoughtless?" He stopped and mused a few moments, and then entered.
"Are you the young man who has opened this printing house?" he inquired of Benjamin.
"I am, sir."
"I am very sorry for you. You are throwing away your money; you can't succeed with two old printing houses here. You will fail."
"What makes you think so?"
"Because Philadelphia is degenerating, and half the people are now bankrupt, or nearly so, and how can they support so many printers?"
"But the appearance of Philadelphia indicates thrift," answered Benjamin. "See how many buildings are going up, and how rents are rising every month. This does not look like going backward, it seems to me."
"These are the very things that will ruin us," responded Nickle. "They are no evidence of prosperity, but of extravagance, that will bring disaster sooner or later."
"That sort of disaster is what we want," suggested Benjamin; "the more of it the better. If Philadelphia ever becomes much of a town, it will be in just that way." Benjamin saw at once that he was talking with a croaker and treated him accordingly.
There was an organization of business men in Philadelphia at that time, known as the "Merchants' Every-Night Club," answering, perhaps, to a "Board of Trade" of our day. Its purpose was to advance the business interests of the town. A member raised the question, "Can another printing house prosper in town?"
"Not with the present population," was the view of one member.
"It will be a long time before three printing houses will be required," remarked another.
"They could not have had very discreet advisers, it seems to me," still another remarked.
In this manner the subject was canvassed, every member but one predicting the failure of the enterprise. That one was Doctor Baird, a prominent physician, and he said:
"It will prove a success. For the industry of that Franklin is superior to any thing 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."
"Doctor, I guess you are right, I did not think of that when I spoke," remarked one who had predicted failure. This member was so much impressed by Doctor Baird's remark that he subsequently went to Benjamin and made this proposition:
"I think you can add a stationer's department to your business, and thus increase your profits; and if you think so, I will furnish you with stock on credit."
"Your offer is a very generous one, and I thank you for it," answered Benjamin; "but I think we had better stick to our trade at present and not put too many irons in the fire at once."
"That is a wise caution, I think, and I am all the more impressed that you are a young man of sound judgment, and you will succeed."
He had no doubt now that the printing house would succeed.
"Your good opinion encourages me very much, and I shall do my best to have it realized," replied Benjamin. "I thank you very much for your generous offer, and, perhaps, at some future day, I shall wish to accept it."
"Let me know whenever you are ready for it," said the gentleman as he took his departure.
"We will start a weekly paper as soon as we are able," said Benjamin to Meredith one day; "theMercuryis as near nothing as it can be. I believe that an able paper here, abreast with the times, will succeed."
"You can make it succeed if any one can," replied Meredith, to whom his partner had given a full account of his connection with theNew England Courantin Boston.
They canvassed the subject until it was decided to start a weekly paper as soon as their pecuniary condition would permit. Just then the Oxford student, whose time Keimer had bought, called upon Benjamin.
"Will you employ me as journeyman printer?" he asked.
"Employ you?" responded Benjamin with much surprise. "I thought your time was Keimer's for four years."
"It was; but it is not now; I have bought it back."
"I am glad to hear that; you will be more of a man for it; and, before long, I think we should like your work; just now we are not in want of more help."
"Your work is increasing, I suppose?" said Webb; "hope I shall not have to wait long."
"If you can keep a secret, Webb, I will let you into it," continued Benjamin. "I expect to start a weekly paper before many weeks have passed; and then I shall have plenty of work."
"How long shall I have to wait?"
"I can't say. It is possible I may want you before I start the newspaper; work is coming in very well. But you must not let Keimer know about the paper. When it starts I want it should be a surprise to him and the public."
"I will not divulge your secret," was Webb's ready promise.
Nevertheless, Webb did disclose the secret to Keimer himself, who proceeded to start a paper of his own, called thePennsylvania Gazette, and he hired Webb, at good wages, to work on it. It proved to be a miserable affair, without ability or intelligent enterprise, so that a sharp, witty young man like Benjamin could readily make it a "laughing-stock."
"I will show up his ignorance and conceit in theMercury" (name of the paper already published by Bradford), he said to Meredith. "See if I don't."
"A good idea, Ben; go ahead; it will create a sensation. Bradford will be glad to publish any thing you may write."
"I will see him at once." And Benjamin hastened to the office of theMercury, made known his purpose to Bradford, who caught at it at once."
"Just the thing I want," responded Bradford. "Let me have something for the next issue."
"Certainly; you shall have the first article to-morrow morning."
Benjamin hurried away with his mind completely absorbed upon the subjects he should take up. The result was a series of amusing articles, in which he burlesqued Keimer's proposals, and ridiculed his editorials, which really deserved nothing better. He continued to write in this way several months, signing all his articles "Busy Body." The public were greatly interested in the communications, because of their real merit. They were bright, even sparkling, full of humor, logical to sharpness, and charged with ability. They drew public attention to Bradford's paper, and public ridicule to Keimer's; so that the subscription list of the former increased, while that of the latter never had over ninety subscribers. People on every hand inquired, "Who isBusy Body?" And, finally, the public learned that it was "that young Franklin, the printer." Keimer learned who his critic was; and, after the lapse of six or eight months from the time the first number was issued, who should appear before Benjamin at his office but him, saying:
"I understand that you think of starting a weekly newspaper; and I have come to sell you mine."
"How is that? Can't you make it go?" Benjamin replied in a familiar way.
"No, not as I want to. I don't think I am exactly qualified to run a newspaper."
"How many subscribers have you?"
"Ninety."
"Only ninety?" exclaimed Benjamin. "That number will be of no aid in starting a paper; might as well start new; new paper, new title, new editor, new every thing."
The conclusion of the interview was, however, that Benjamin purchased the paper, took possession immediately, advertised his literary enterprise, and "it proved," as he said, "in a few years extremely profitable to me."
His economy was equal to his industry. He arrayed himself in the plainest manner, although he aimed to look neat and tidy. His board was simple and cheap, and every thing about his business was conducted on the most economical principles. He wheeled home the paper which he bought, boarded himself some of the time, sleeping in the office, and never stopped to consider whether it was compromising the dignity of a printer to do such things.
Keimer left no stone unturned to secure business and cripple Franklin and Meredith. He was never half so active and enterprising as he became after these two young men set up for themselves. One day Keimer was in Benjamin's printing office to transact some business, when the latter said to him:
"Look here, Keimer; come with me into the back room."
"What you got there?" Keimer answered, following.
"See that!" Benjamin said, pointing to a half-devoured loaf and pitcher of water, that he had just made a meal off.
"What of that?" said Keimer, not comprehending the drift of Benjamin's remark.
"Unless you can live cheaper than I can, it is no use for you to attempt to run me out of business."
Both laughed, and Keimer departed.
TheGazetteflourished finely from the time it came under Benjamin's management. He was able to discuss public questions of importance with manifest ability, and his articles created interest and discussion among public men, who became subscribers in consequence. A dispute was going on between Governor Burnett and the Massachusetts Assembly, and Benjamin commented upon it with so much wisdom and originality that his intimate acquaintance was sought by the most distinguished men.
Benjamin's work as a printer excelled that of either Keimer or Bradford. The latter did the government printing, and often it was done in a very bungling manner. This was notably so when he printed an address of the House to the Governor. It was a very inferior job; whereupon Benjamin printed it elegantly and correctly and sent a copy to each member of the House. The House voted to give him the government printing thereafter. By his method of doing thebesthe could every time, he built up a business rapidly, and won a reputation for industry, integrity, and ability that was worth more than money.
To return to Meredith. He had become more intemperate than ever. His father, too, did not find relief from pecuniary embarrassment as he expected. He was to pay two hundred pounds currency for the printing house, and had paid one-half of it. But the other half was not paid when due, for which all three were sued.
"Perhaps your father is not pleased with your partner," said Benjamin to Meredith. "If that is the reason he does not advance the money, I will retire, and you shall run the whole thing."
"No; my father is well satisfied with my partner, and so am I; so that you need not think he is withholding money for the purpose of getting rid of you. He is really embarrassed."
"Then he could not take the concern into his own hands for you to run?"
"No, indeed; that would be quite impossible. Besides, I do not want it on my hands."
"Why?" inquired Benjamin.
"Because I am satisfied that I am not adapted to this business. I was bred a farmer, and ought not to have left that occupation."
"Drink water, as I do, and you may succeed as well at printing as farming. A farmer who drinks to excess never succeeds."
"Drink or no drink," retorted Meredith, "I am sick of this business and shall quit. Many of our Welsh people are going to settle in North Carolina, where land is cheap, and I am going with them, and shall follow my old employment."
"Then you will sell out your interest to me, if I understand you?"That was what Benjamin wanted.
"Certainly; you can get enough friends to help you. If you will take the debts of the company upon you, return to my father the hundred pounds 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 will accept your proposition, and we will draw up the papers at once," said Benjamin.
The bargain was consummated; and the proper papers were prepared, signed, and sealed. Benjamin accepted the generous aid of Coleman and Grace, and became sole proprietor of the printing house andPennsylvania Gazette. This was near the close of the year 1729, a few months after theGazettecame into his hands.
A few months more elapsed, when he concluded to accept the offer of the gentleman, spoken of on a previous page, to provide a stock of stationery, and opened a stationer's shop in his building. This proved a good investment, and led to his marriage, September 1, 1730, to Miss Deborah Read.
While Benjamin was thus prospering, Keimer was going to the wall; and finally his printing office, with all its furniture, was sold under the hammer to pay his creditors; and he went to Barbadoes, where he lived in poverty.
Thus changes brought Benjamin to the front, and his printing house was the best, doing the most business, of any one in the whole country, except Boston. True, Bradford continued his business and paper; but in a very small way, in no sense a rival to our hero. He stood at the head.
"Time is money," Doctor Franklin wrote in age. It was what he practised when he conducted his printing business in Philadelphia. One day a lounger stepped into his shop, and, after looking over the articles, asked:
"What is the price of that book?" holding it up in his hand. Benjamin had commenced to keep a few books on sale.
"One dollar," answered the apprentice in attendance.
"One dollar," repeated the lounger; "can't you take less than that?"
"No less; one dollar is the price."
Waiting a few moments, and still looking over the book, he said, at length:
"Is Mr. Franklin at home?"
"He is in the printing office."
"I want to see him; will you call him?"
Franklin was called.
"Mr. Franklin, what is the lowest price you will take for this book?" at the same time holding up the book.
"One dollar and a quarter," answered Franklin, who had heard the lounger's parleying with his apprentice.
"One dollar and a quarter! Your young man asked but a dollar."
"True," answered Franklin, "and I could have better afforded to take a dollar then, than to have been called from my business."
The Customer seemed puzzled for a few moments, but, finally, concluded that the proprietor was joking. He had not been wont to place so great value upon time.
"Come, now, tell me just the lowest you will take for it," he said.
"One dollar and a half."
"A dollar and a half! Why you offered it yourself for a dollar and a quarter."
"True, and I had better taken the price then, than a dollar and a half now," retorted Benjamin with a good deal of spirit.
The buyer got the truth into his head at last, paid the price of the book, and sneaked away, with the rebuke lying heavily on his heart.
Benjamin wrote of his industry at that time, as follows:
"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 thence considered industry as a means of obtaining wealth and distinction, which encouraged me; though I did not think that I should ever literallystand before kings,—which, however, has since happened; for I have stood beforefive, and even had the honor of sitting down with one, the King of Denmark, to dinner."
It is not strange that such a young man should write such maxims as the following, in his riper years:
"Pride breakfasts with plenty, dines with poverty, and sups with infamy."
"It is as truly folly for the poor to ape the rich, as for the frog to swell in order to equal the ox."
"It is easier to suppress the first desire, than to satisfy all that follow it."
His integrity was no less marked. Strict honesty characterized all his dealings with men. An exalted idea of justice pervaded his soul. His word of honor was as good as his note of hand. Even his disposition to castigate and censure in his writings, so manifest in Boston, at sixteen years of age, and which his father rebuked, was overcome. After he had set up a paper in Philadelphia, a gentleman handed him an article for its columns.
"I am very busy now," said Benjamin, "and you will confer a favor by leaving it for perusal at my leisure."
"That I will do, and call again to-morrow."
The following day the author put in his appearance quite early.
"What is your opinion of my article?" he asked.
"Why, sir, I am sorry to say that I can not publish it."
"Why not? What is the matter with it?"
"It is highly scurrilous and defamatory," replied Benjamin; "but being at a loss, on account of my poverty, whether to reject it or not, I thought I would put it to this issue. At night when my work was done, I bought a twopenny loaf, on which I supped heartily, and then, wrapping myself in my great coat, slept very soundly on the floor until morning, when another loaf and mug of water afforded a pleasant breakfast. Now, sir, since I can live very comfortably in this manner, why should I prostitute my press to personal hatred or party passion for a more luxurious living?"
We have seen that Benjamin began to revise his religious opinions on his return voyage from England. He continued to reflect much upon his loose ways; and there is no doubt that his integrity, industry, economy, and desire to succeed in business had something to do with his moral improvement. He confessed that, along from 1725 to 1730 he was immoral, and was sometimes led astray; but his conscience made him much trouble, and, finally, it asserted its supremacy, and he came off conqueror over his evil propensities. A change from skepticism or deism to a decided belief in the Christian Religion, no doubt exerted the strongest influence in making him a better man.
In 1728 he prepared "Articles of Belief and Acts of Religion" for his own use every day. This was his ritual, beginning and closing with an humble prayer.
Three or four years later, he appears to have taken up this thought of a religious life anew; and he prepared a code of morals, perhaps a revision of his former Articles of Faith, wrote them out carefully in a blank book for use, as follows:
"1. TEMPERANCE.—Eat not to dulness; drink not to elevation.
"2. SILENCE.—Speak not but what may benefit others or yourself; avoidtrifling conversation.
"3. ORDER.—Let all your things have their places; let each part ofyour business have its time.
"4. RESOLUTION.—Resolve to perform what you ought; perform withoutfail what you resolve.
"5. FRUGALITY.—Make no expense but to do good to others or yourself;that is, waste nothing.
"6. INDUSTRY.—Lose no time; be always employed 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 benefitsthat are your duty.
"9. MODERATION.—Avoid extremes; forbear resenting injuries so much asyou think they deserve.
"10. CLEANLINESS.—Tolerate no uncleanliness in body, clothes, or habitation.
"11. TRANQUILITY.—Be not disturbed at trifles, or at accidents common or unavoidable.
"13. HUMILITY.—Imitate Jesus and Socrates."
At one time he seriously thought of organizing a "United Party forVirtue," in connection with which he prepared this religious creed:
"That there is one God, who made all things.
"That he governs the world by his providence.
"That he ought to be worshipped by adoration, prayer and thanksgiving.
"But that the most acceptable service to 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."
His letters to relatives and friends, from this time, contained strong words for the Christian Religion, and for the imitation of the virtues practised by its Author. Through his long and useful life, he continued to observe the doctrines and precepts that he named in the foregoing extracts. He was a delegate to the convention for forming a Constitution of the United States, which met at Philadelphia, May, 1787, and he introduced the motion for daily prayers, with remarks thus:
"In the beginning of the contest with Britain, when we were sensible of danger, we had daily prayers in this room for the Divine protection. Our prayers, Sir, were heard; and they were graciously answered. All of us, who were engaged in the struggle, must have observed frequent instances of a superintending Providence in our favor. To that kind Providence we owe this happy opportunity of consulting in peace on the means of establishing our future national felicity. And have we now forgotten that powerful Friend? or do we imagine we no longer need his assistance? I have lived, Sir, a long time; and, the longer I live, the more convincing proofs I see of this truth,thatGODgoverns in the affairs of men. And, if a sparrow can not fall to the ground without his notice, is it probably that an empire can rise without his aid? We have been assured, Sir, in the sacred writings, that 'except the Lord build the house, they labor in vain that build it.' I firmly believe this; and I also believe that, without His concurring aid, we shall succeed in this political building no better than the builders of Babel; we shall be divided by our little, partial, local interests, our projects will be confounded, and we ourselves shall become a reproach and a by-word down to future ages."
We will only add here an epitaph that he wrote for his own monument at twenty-three years of age, supposed to have been a paper for the Junto: