Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin
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 sometimes quarrel'd; for, when
a little intoxicated, he was very fractious. Once, in a boat on the
Delaware 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 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
dripping 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 Barbados, 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 judgment when he suppos'd me too young to manage business
of importance. But Sir William, on reading his letter, said he was too
prudent. There was great difference in persons; and discretion did not
always accompany years, nor was youth always without it. "And since he
will not set you up," says he, "I will do it myself. Give me an
inventory of the things necessary to be had from England, and I will
send for them. You shall repay me when you are able; I am resolv'd to
have a good printer here, and I am sure you must succeed." This was
spoken with such an appearance of cordiality, that I had not the least
doubt of his meaning what he said. I had hitherto kept the proposition
of my setting up, a secret in Philadelphia, and I still kept it. Had
it been known that I depended on the governor, probably some friend,
that knew him better, would have advis'd me not to rely on him, as I
afterwards heard it as his known character to be liberal of promises
which he never meant to keep. Yet, unsolicited as he was by me, how
could I think his generous offers insincere? I believ'd him one of the
best men in the world.
I presented him an inventory of a little print'-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 everything was good of the kind, might not be of some
advantage. "Then," says he, "when there, you may make acquaintances,
and establish correspondences in the bookselling and stationery way."
I agreed that this might be advantageous. "Then," says he, "get
yourself ready to go with Annis;" which was the annual ship, and the
only one at that time usually passing between London and Philadelphia.
But it would be some months before Annis sail'd, so I continued
working with Keimer, fretting about the money Collins had got from me,
and in daily apprehensions of being call'd upon by Vernon, which,
however, did not happen for some years after.
I believe I have omitted mentioning that, in my first voyage from
Boston, being becalm'd off Block Island, our people set about catching
cod, and hauled up a great many. Hitherto I had stuck to my resolution
of not eating animal food, and on this occasion 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 vegetable diet. So
convenient a thing is it to be a _reasonable creature_, since it
enables one to find or make a reason for everything one has a mind to
do.
V
EARLY FRIENDS IN PHILADELPHIA
Keimer and I liv'd on a pretty good familiar footing, and agreed
tolerably well, for he suspected nothing of my setting up. He retained
a great deal of his old enthusiasms and lov'd argumentation. We
therefore had many disputations. I used to work him so with my
Socratic method, and had trepann'd him so often by questions
apparently so distant from any point we had in hand, and yet by
degrees led to the point, and brought him into difficulties and
contradictions, that at last he grew ridiculously cautious, and would
hardly answer me the most common question, without asking first,
"_What do you intend to infer from that_?" However, it gave him so
high an opinion of my abilities in the confuting way, that he
seriously proposed my being his colleague in a project he had of
setting up a new sect. He was to preach the doctrines, and I was to
confound all opponents. When he came to explain with me upon the
doctrines, I found several conundrums which I objected to, unless I
might have my way a little too, and introduce some of mine.
Keimer wore his beard at full length, because somewhere in the Mosaic
law it is said, "_Thou shalt not mar the corners of thy beard_." He
likewise kept the Seventh day, Sabbath; and these two points were
essentials with him. I dislik'd both; but agreed to admit them upon
condition of his adopting the doctrine of using no animal food. "I
doubt," said he, "my constitution will not bear that." I assur'd him
it would, and that he would be the better for it. He was usually a
great glutton, and I promised myself some diversion in half starving
him. He agreed to try the practice, if I would keep him company. I did
so, and we held it for three months. We had our victuals dress'd, and
brought to us regularly by a woman in the neighborhood, who had from
me a list of forty dishes, to be prepar'd for us at different times,
in all which there was neither fish, flesh, nor fowl, and the whim
suited me the better at this time from the cheapness of it, not
costing us above eighteenpence sterling each per week. I have since
kept several Lents most strictly, leaving the common diet for that,
and that for the common, abruptly, without the least inconvenience, so
that I think there is little in the advice of making those changes by
easy gradations. I went on pleasantly, but poor Keimer suffered
grievously, tired of the project, long'd for the flesh-pots of Egypt,
and order'd a roast pig. He invited me and two women friends to dine
with him; but, it being brought too soon upon table, he could not
resist the temptation, and ate the whole before we came.
I had made some courtship during this time to Miss Read. I had a great
respect and affection for her, and had some reason to believe she had
the same for me; but, as I was about to take a long voyage, and we
were both very young, only a little above eighteen, it was thought
most prudent by her mother to prevent our going too far at present, as
a marriage, if it was to take place, would be more convenient after my
return, when I should be, as I expected, set up in my business.
Perhaps, too, she thought my expectations not so well founded as I
imagined them to be.
My chief acquaintances at this time were Charles Osborne, Joseph
Watson, and James Ralph, all lovers of reading. The two first were
clerks to an eminent scrivener or conveyancer in the town, Charles
Brockden; the other was clerk to a merchant. Watson was a pious,
sensible young man, of great integrity; the others rather more lax in
their principles of religion, particularly Ralph, who, as well as
Collins, had been unsettled by me, for which they both made me suffer.
Osborne was sensible, candid, frank; sincere and affectionate to his
friends; but, in literary matters, too fond of criticizing. Ralph was
ingenious, genteel in his manners, and extremely eloquent; I think I
never knew a prettier talker. Both of them were great admirers of
poetry, and began to try their hands in little pieces. Many pleasant
walks we four had together on Sundays into the woods, near
Schuylkill, where we read to one another, and conferr'd on what we
read.
Ralph was inclin'd to pursue the study of poetry, not doubting but he
might become eminent in it, and make his fortune by it, alleging that
the best poets must, when they first began to write, make as many
faults as he did. Osborne dissuaded him, assur'd him he had no genius
for poetry, and advis'd him to think of nothing beyond the business he
was bred to; that, in the mercantile way, tho' he had no stock, he
might, by his diligence and punctuality, recommend himself to
employment as a factor, and in time acquire wherewith to trade on his
own account. I approv'd the amusing one's self with poetry now and
then, so far as to improve one's language, but no farther.
On this it was propos'd that we should each of us, at our next
meeting, produce a piece of our own composing, in order to improve by
our mutual observations, criticisms, and corrections. As language and
expression were what we had in view, we excluded all considerations of
invention by agreeing that the task should be a version of the
eighteenth Psalm, which describes the descent of a Deity. When the
time of our meeting drew nigh, Ralph called on me first, and let me
know his piece was ready. I told him I had been busy, and, having
little inclination, had done nothing. He then show'd me his piece for
my opinion, and I much approv'd it, as it appear'd to me to have great
merit. "Now," says he, "Osborne never will allow the least merit in
anything of mine, but makes 1000 criticisms out of mere envy. He is
not so jealous of you; I wish, therefore, you would take this piece,
and produce it as yours; I will pretend not to have had time, and so
produce nothing. We shall then see what he will say to it." It was
agreed, and I immediately transcrib'd it, that it might appear in my
own hand.
We met; Watson's performance was read; there were some beauties in it,
but many defects. Osborne's was read; it was much better; Ralph did it
justice; remarked some faults, but applauded the beauties. He himself
had nothing to produce. I was backward; seemed desirous of being
excused; had not had sufficient time to correct, etc.; but no excuse
could be admitted; produce I must. It was read and repeated; Watson
and Osborne gave up the contest, and join'd in applauding it. Ralph
only made some criticisms, and propos'd some amendments; but I
defended my text. Osborne was against Ralph, and told him he was no
better a critic than poet, so he dropt the argument. As they two went
home together, Osborne expressed himself still more strongly in favor
of what he thought my production; having restrain'd himself before, as
he said, lest I should think it flattery. "But who would have