Lessons from the life of Benjamin Franklin, 1706-1790.

Preface

While thinking last summer how I might usefully employ some leisure hours, it occurred to me to prepare the following compilation for the benefit of the young people of Buffalo, having in view especially those who have lately graduated, or who are about to graduate from our public and other schools. It may also be interesting and not unprofitable reading to older persons who are not familiar with the details of Benjamin Franklin's business career.

It is for the most part an abridgment, consisting of those portions of Franklin's autobiography which may be useful for instruction and example in the conduct of business and life, and excluding many genealogical and other details and various episodes which are comparatively uninteresting, are not within the purpose of the volume, and would enhance its cost. These considerations afford, I think, a sufficient answer to the objections usually and sometimes properly made to abridgments.

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It is a mistake to suppose that there was anything sordid in the character or philosophy of Franklin. It is true that he taught that " honesty is the best policy." So the Sermon on the Mount declares that the righteous shall have their reward. But he was one of the most benevolent and publicspirited of men. He believed in pecuniary independence as a vitally important means of happiness and usefulness, and as a shield against temptation. Leaving school at ten years of age, starting in life substantially pennyless, dependent upon his own exertions, passing his youth in a country which was in a state of extreme poverty, he felt and taught that economy was a pressing duty. When a boy he left his boarding house and lived on less than fifty cents a week so that he might have more money to buy books ; but he never saved a cent for the sake of the cent ; and from his early youth he loved knowledge, self-improvement, his country and his kind more than money. At forty-two, having acquired a modest competence, he retired from active business, and devoted forty-two years more to these other ojects.

In boyhood he prepared for his own use certain rules of cunduct to which he adhered during his youth and early manhood, and by which he was largely guided all his life. By practicing these methods, largely aided, of course, by circumstances.

he probably enjoyed and accomplished as much as any man of his generation.

The number of elements which went to the making of the life and character of Franklin, and which are illustrated in the following pages, is remarkable. Enterprise and prudence, energy and moderation, the achievement of pecuniary independence without avarice, economy coupled with benevolence and public spirit, the best methods of industry, temperance, the use of time, manners, the value of friends and how to select and retain them, the arts of conversation, discussion and debate, the management and use of clubs and other associations, the most successful methods of acquiring and exerting influence and of accomplishing results, how to select and read books, how to write, how to acquire languages and other knowledge, how to mingle wit and wisdom, sobriety and humor, how wisely to conduct one's self socially, politically, morally and religiously ; in fact all the characteristics and methods by which Franklin rose from poverty ignorance and obscurity to wealth, learning and fame are in this little book described and illustrated by a man not surpassed by any historical character in common sense ; and all are portrayed in a style so delightful that there is not a dull page in it. It also constitutes an

VI interesting picture of the manners and customs o( our country during the first half of the last century.

It is not expected that the example of Franklin can or should be followed in its details, at the present day ; but the instructions and life of this great American should be recalled to the memory of every succeeding generation. Next to his native strength and breadth of mind, his boyish passion for the best books doubtless did more than any other cause to make him what he was. Among them was Plutarch's Lives, a thorough acquaintance with which is of itself a kind of liberal education. An interest in these lives and a love of books ought never to go out of fashion.

Our young Benjamin was very poor when, an utter stranger and with about a dollar in his pocket, he became a resident of Philadelphia ; but there are many boys and girls in Buffalo much poorer than he was, because he was a skilful printer, and every young man or woman who has acquired a trade and is skilful in it has already laid the foundation of an almost sure success, if the lessons of Franklin's life in Philadelphia are duly studied and heeded. As to the boys and girls who are depressed by poverty and have no trade, I am sure that if they will read this volume it will encourage them to get one as soon as possible, and also to see, that while they cannot all be Franklins', they

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can (unless prevented by unusual misfortunes) become respected and prosperous. I earnestly wish this little book might have the widest circulation among such young people ; and I am unselfish in this wish, as it will be sold at the cost of its publication.

I have added a brief chronological statement of the leading events of Franklin's life subsequent to the period embraced in his autobiography, so that it may be seen what were the results in his old age of the habits of his youth.

I understand how small is my contribution to the value of this book, and I should not subscribe my name to this preface but for the hope that my recommendation may increase its circulation.

E. C. SPRAGUE.

Buffalo, Dec. 15th, i8gi.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

Josiah Franklin, my father, married young, and carried his wife with three children to New England, about 1685. By the same wife he had four children more born there, and by a second wife ten others, in all seventeen ; of whom I remember thirteen sitting together at his table, who all grew up to years of maturity and were married ; 1 was the youngest son, and the youngest of all the children, excepting two daughters. I was born in Boston, in New England. My mother, the second wife, was Abiah Folger, daughter of Peter Folger, one of the first settlers of New England.

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. I continued at the grammar-school rather less than a year, though in that time I had risen gradually from the middle of the class of that year to be at the head of it, and was removed into the next class, whence I was to be placed in the third at the end of the year. But my father, burdened with a numerous family, was unable to support the expense of a college education, took me from the grammar-school, and sent me to a school for writing and arithmetic, kept by a then famous man, Mr. George

Brownell, successful in his profession. Under him I learned to write a good hand pretty soon, but I failed in the arithmetic. At ten years old I was taken to help my father in his business, which was that of a tallow-chandler and soap-boiler. Accordingly, I was employed in cutting wicks for the candles, filling the dipping mould and the moulds for cast candles, attending the shop, going of errands, etc.

I disliked the trade, and had a strong inclination to go to sea, but my father declared against it ; but residing near the water, I was much in and on it. I learned to swim well, and to manage boats.

I continued thus employed in my 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, married, and set up for himself at Rhode Island, there was every appearance that I was destined to supply his place, and become a tallow-chandler. But my dislike to the trade continuing, my father had apprehensions that if he did not find one to put me to more agreeable, I should break loose and get to sea, as his son Josiah had done, to his great vexation. In consequence he took me to walk with him, and see joiners, bricklayers, turners, braziers, etc., at their work, that he might observe my inclination, and endeavor to fix it on some trade that would keep me on land. It has ever since been a pleasure to me to see good workmen handle their tools, and it has been often useful to me to have learned so much by it as to be able to do jobs myself in the house when a workman was not at hand, and to construct little machines for my experiments, when the intention of making these experiments was fresh and warm in my mind. My father determined at last for the cutler's trade, and placed me for some days on trial with Samuel, son to my uncle Benjamin. But the sum he exacted as a fee displeasing my father, I was taken home again.

From my infancy I was fond of reading, and all the money that came into my hands was laid out in books. My first acquisition was Bunyan's works in separate little volumes. I afterward sold them to enable me to buy R. Burton's Historical Collections; they were small chapmen's books, and cheap, forty in all. My father's little library consisted chiefly of books in polemic divinity, most of which I read. I have often regretted that, at a time when I had such a thirst for knowledge, more proper books had not fallen in my way. Plutarch's Lives 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 Projecfs, and another of Dr. Mather's, called an Essay to do Goody which perhaps gave me a turn of thinking that had an influence on some of the principle 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 171 7 my brother James returned from England with a press and letters to set up his business in Boston. I liked it much better than that of my father, but still had a hankering for the sea. To prevent the apprehended effect of such an inchnation, my father was impatient to have me bound to my brother. I stood out some time, but at last was persuaded, and signed the indenture when I was yet but twelve years old. I was to serve an apprenticeship till I was twenty-one years of age, only I was to be allowed journeyman's wages during the last year. In a little time I made great progress 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 chamber reading the greatest part of the night, when the book was borrowed in the evening and to be returned in the morning, lest it should be found missing.

There was another bookish lad in the town, John Collins by name, with whom I was intimately acquainted. We sometimes disputed, and very fond we were of argument, and very desirous of confuting 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, it is productive of disgusts and perhaps enmities. I had caught it by reading my father's books of dispute on religion. Persons of good sense, I have since observed, seldom fall into it, except lawyers, university men, and men of all sorts who have been bred at Edinburgh.

About this time I met with an odd volume of the Spectator. 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 sentiments in each sentence, laid them by a few days, and then, without looking at the book, tried to complete the papers again, by expressing each hinted sentiment at length, and as fuily as it had been expressed before, in any suitable words that should occur to me. 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 recollecting and using them.

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 collection of hints into confusion, and after some weeks endeavored to reduce them into the best order, before I began to form the full sentences and complete the paper. This was to teach me method in the arrangement of the thoughts. By comparing my work with the original, I discovered many faults and corrected them; but I sometimes had the pleasure to fancy that, in certain particulars of small consequence, I had been fortunate enough to improve the method or the language, and this encouraged me to think I might m time come to be a tolerable English writer, of which I was extremely ambitious. The time I allotted for these exercises and for reading was at night, or before work began in the morning, or on Sundays, 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 of me when I was under his care.

When about sixteen years of age I happened to meet with a book, written by one Tryon, recommending a vegetable diet. I determined to go into it. My brother, being yet unmarried, did not keep house, but boarded himself and his apprentices in another family. My refusing to eat flesh occasioned an inconveniency, and I was frequently chid for my singularity. I made myself acquainted with Tryon' s manner of preparing some of his dishes, such as boiling potatoes or rice, making hasty pudding, and a few others, and then proposed to my brother that if he would give me, weekly, half the money he paid for my board, I would board myself. He instantly agreed to it and I presently found that I could save half what he paid me. This was an additional fund for buying books, but I had another advantage in it. My brother and the rest going from the printing-house to their meals, I remained there alone, and dispatching presently my light repast, (which often was no more than a biscuit 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 greater progress, from that greater clearness of head and quicker ai:)prehension which generally attend temperance in eating and drinking.

Now it was that, being on some occasion made ashamed of my ignorance in figures, which I had twice failed learning when at school, I took Cocker's book on arithmetic, and went through the whole by myself with the greatest ease. I also read Seller's and Sturny's book of Navigation, and became acquainted with the little geometry it contains ; but never proceeded far in that science. I read about this time Locke On the Human Understanding, and the Art of Thinking, by Messrs. du Port Royal.

While I was intent on improving my language, I met with an English Grammar (I think it was Greenwood's), having at the end of it two little sketches on the arts of rhetoric and logic, the latter finishing with a specimen of a dispute in the Socratic method ; and soon after I procured Xenophon's Memorable Things of Socrates, wherein there are many examples of the same method. I was charmed with it, adopted it, dropped my abrupt contradiction and positive argumentation, and put on the humble inquirer. I continued this method some few years, but gradually left it, retaining only the habit of expressing myself in terms of modest diffidence ; never using, when I advance anything that may possibly be disputed, the words certainly, u7idoubtedly, 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 J imagine it to be so ; or // 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 engaged 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 and sensible 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.

My brother had, in 1720 or 1721, begun to print a newspaper. It was the second that appeared in America, and was called the Neiu England Coiirant. The only one before it was the Boston News-Letter. I was employed to carry the papers to the customers.

He had some ingenious men among his friends, who amused themselves by writing little pieces for this paper, which gained 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 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 called m 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 character among us for learning and ingenuity. I suppose that I was rather lucky in my judges, and that they were not really so very good ones as I then believed them to be.

Encouraged, however, by this attempt, I wrote and sent in the same way to the press several other pieces that were equally approved ; and I kept my secret till all my fund of sense for such performances was exhausted, and then discovered it, when I began to be considered a little more by my brother's acquaintance. That did not quite please him, as he thought it tended to make me too vain. 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, accordingly, expected the same services from me as he would from another, while I thought he degraded me too much in some he required of me, who from a brother expected more indulgence. Our disputes were often brought before our father, and I fancy I 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 extremely 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. Perhaps this harsh and tyrannical treatlO

ment of me might be a means of impressing me with the aversion to arbitrary power that has stuck to me through my whole life.

One of the pieces in our newspaper on some political point, which I have now forgotten, gave offence to the Assembly. My brother was taken up, censured, and imprisoned for a month, by the speaker's warrant, I suppose, because he would not discover the author. I too was taken up and examined before the council ; but, though I did not give them any satisfaction, they contented 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 resented 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 youth that had a turn for libelling and satire. My brother's discharge was accompanied with an order (a very odd one), that ''James Franklin should no longe? print the paper called the New England Courant. ' '

On a consultation held in our printing-house among his friends, what he should do in this conjuncture, it was proposed to elude the order by changing the name of the paper; but my brother, seeing inconveniences in this, came to a conclusion as a better way, to let the paper be printed in future under the name of Benjamin Franklin ; and to avoid the censure of

II

the Assembly, that might fall on him as still printing it by his apprentice, he consented that my old indenture should be returned to me, with a discharge on the back of it, to show in case of necessity ; and in order to secure to him the benefit of my service, I should sign new indentures for the remainder of my time, which were to be kept private. A very flimsy scheme it was ; however, it wa-s immediately executed, and the paper was printed 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 freedom, presuming that he would not venture to produce 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 impressions of resentment for the blows his passion too often urged him to bestow upon me, though he was otherwise not an ill-natured 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 refused 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 inclined to leave Boston when I reflected that I had already made myself a little obnoxious to the governing party, and from the arbitrary proceedings of the Assembly in my brother's case, it was likely I might, il

I Stayed, soon bring myself into scrapes. My friend Collins agreed with the captain of a New York sloop to take me. I sold my books to raise a little money, was taken on board the sloop privately, had a fair wind, and in three days found myself at New York, near three hundred miles from home, at the age of seventeen, without the least recommendation to, or knowledge of any person in the place, and very little money in my pocket.

Conceiving myself a pretty good workman, I offered my service to a printer in the place, old Mr, William Bradford, who had been the first printer in Pennsylvania, but removed thence in consequence of a quarrel with the Governor George Keith. He could give me no employment, having little to do, and hands enough already; but he said, "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 one 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. On approaching the island, we found it was in a place where there could be no landing, there being a great surge on the stony beach. So we dropped anchor, and swung out our cable towards the shore. 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.

In the evening I found myself very feverish, and went to bed; but having read somewhere that cold water drank plentifully was good for a fever, I followed the prescription, and sweat plentifully most of the night. My fever left me, and in the morning, crossing the ferry, I proceeded on my journey on foot, having fifty miles to go 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 soaked, and by noon a good deal tired ; so I stopped at a poor inn, where I stayed all night, beginning now to wish I had never left home. I made so miserable a figure, too, that I found, by the questions asked me, I was suspected to be some runaway indentured servant, and in danger of being taken up on that suspicion. However, I proceeded next day, and got in the evening to an inn, within eight or ten miles of Burlington, kept by one Dr. Brown.

At his house I lay that night, and the next morning reached Burlington, but had the mortification to find that the regular boats were gone a little before and no other expected to go before Tuesday, this this being Saturday. However, walking in the evening by the side of the river, a boat came by, which I found was going towards Phdadelphia, with several people in her. They took me in, and, as there was no wind, we rowed 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 towards 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 company 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 arrived there about eight or nine o'clock on Sunday morning, and landed at 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 clothes being coming round by sea. I was dirty from my being so long in the boat. My pockets were stuffed out with shirts and stockings, and I knew no one nor where to look for lodging. Fatigued with walking, rowing, and the want of sleep, I was very hungry; and my whole stock of cash consisted in a single dollar, and about a shilling in copper coin. The latter I gave to the boatmen for my passage. At first they refused it on account of my having rowed ; but I insisted on their taking it. Man is sometimes more generous when he has little money than when he has plenty, perhaps to prevent his being thought to have but little.

I walked towards the top of the street, gazing about till near Market Street, where I met a boy with bread. I had often made a meal of dry bread, and inquiring where he had bought it, I went immediately to the baker's he directed me to, Second Street. I asked for biscuits, intending such as we had at Boston ; but that sort, it seems, were not made in Philadelphia. Then I asked for a three-penny loaf, and was told they had none. Not knowing the different prices^ I told him to give me three-penny worth of any sort. He gave me, accordingly, three great puffy rolls. I was surprised at the quantity, but took it, and having no room in my pockets, walked 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 certainly did, a most awkward, ridiculous appearance. Then I turned and went down Chestnut 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 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.