We sail'd from Gravesend on the 23d of July, 1726. For the incidents
of the voyage, I refer you to my journal, where you will find them
all minutely related. Perhaps the most important part of that
journal is the plan[*] to be found in it, which I formed at sea,
for regulating my future conduct in life. It is the more remarkable,
as being formed when I was so young, and yet being pretty faithfully
adhered to quite thro' to old age.
[ The "Journal" was printed by Sparks, from a copy made
at Reading in 1787. But it does not contain the Plan.
--Ed.]
We landed in Philadelphia on the 11th of October, where I found
sundry alterations. Keith was no longer governor, being superseded
by Major Gordon. I met him walking the streets as a common citizen.
He seem'd a little asham'd at seeing me, but pass'd without
saying anything. I should have been as much asham'd at seeing
Miss Read, had not her friends, despairing with reason of my return
after the receipt of my letter, persuaded her to marry another,
one Rogers, a potter, which was done in my absence. With him,
however, she was never happy, and soon parted from him, refusing to
cohabit with him or bear his name, it being now said that he bad
another wife. He was a worthless fellow, tho' an excellent workman,
which was the temptation to her friends. He got into debt,
ran away in 1727 or 1728, went to the West Indies, and died there.
Keimer had got a better house, a shop well supply'd with stationery,
plenty of new types, a number of hands, tho' none good, and seem'd
to have a great deal of business.
Mr. Denham took a store in Water-street, where we open'd our goods;
I attended the business diligently, studied accounts, and grew,
in a little time, expert at selling. We lodg'd and, boarded together;
he counsell'd me as a father, having a sincere regard for me.
I respected and lov'd him, and we might have gone on together
very happy; but, in the beginning of February, 1726-7, when I
had just pass'd my twenty-first year, we both were taken ill.
My distemper was a pleurisy, which very nearly carried me off.
I suffered a good deal, gave up the point in my own mind, and was
rather disappointed when I found myself recovering, regretting,
in some degree, that I must now, some time or other, have all that
disagreeable work to do over again. I forget what his distemper was;
it held him a long time, and at length carried him off. He left me
a small legacy in a nuncupative will, as a token of his kindness
for me, and he left me once more to the wide world; for the store
was taken into the care of his executors, and my employment under
him ended.
My brother-in-law, Holmes, being now at Philadelphia, advised my return
to my business; and Keimer tempted me, with an offer of large wages
by the year, to come and take the management of his printing-house,
that he might better attend his stationer's shop. I had heard a bad
character of him in London from his wife and her friends, and was
not fond of having any more to do with him. I tri'd for farther
employment as a merchant's clerk; but, not readily meeting with any,
I clos'd again with Keimer. I found in his house these hands:
Hugh Meredith, a Welsh Pensilvanian, thirty years of age, bred to
country work; honest, sensible, had a great deal of solid observation,
was something of a reader, but given to drink. Stephen Potts, a young
countryman of full age, bred to the same, of uncommon natural parts,
and great wit and humor, but a little idle. These he had agreed
with at extream low wages per week, to be rais'd a shilling every
three months, as they would deserve by improving in their business;
and the expectation of these high wages, to come on hereafter,
was what he had drawn them in with. Meredith was to work at press,
Potts at book-binding, which he, by agreement, was to teach them,
though he knew neither one nor t'other. John ----, a wild Irishman,
brought up to no business, whose service, for four years, Keimer had
purchased from the captain of a ship; he, too, was to be made
a pressman. George Webb, an Oxford scholar, whose time for four
years he had likewise bought, intending him for a compositor,
of whom more presently; and David Harry, a country boy, whom he had
taken apprentice.
I soon perceiv'd that the intention of engaging me at wages so much
higher than he had been us'd to give, was, to have these raw,
cheap hands form'd thro' me; and, as soon as I had instructed them,
then they being all articled to him, he should be able to do without me.
I went on, however, very cheerfully, put his printing-house in order,
which had been in great confusion, and brought his hands by degrees
to mind their business and to do it better.
It was an odd thing to find an Oxford scholar in the situation
of a bought servant. He was not more than eighteen years of age,
and gave me this account of himself; that he was born in Gloucester,
educated at a grammar-school there, had been distinguish'd among
the scholars for some apparent superiority in performing his part,
when they exhibited plays; belong'd to the Witty Club there,
and had written some pieces in prose and verse, which were printed
in the Gloucester newspapers; thence he was sent to Oxford; where he
continued about a year, but not well satisfi'd, wishing of all
things to see London, and become a player. At length, receiving his
quarterly allowance of fifteen guineas, instead of discharging
his debts he walk'd out of town, hid his gown in a furze bush,
and footed it to London, where, having no friend to advise him, he fell
into bad company, soon spent his guineas, found no means of being
introduc'd among the players, grew necessitous, pawn'd his cloaths,
and wanted bread. Walking the street very hungry, and not knowing
what to do with himself, a crimp's bill was put into his hand,
offering immediate entertainment and encouragement to such as would
bind themselves to serve in America.
He went directly, sign'd the indentures, was put into the ship,
and came over, never writing a line to acquaint his friends what was
become of him. He was lively, witty, good-natur'd, and a pleasant
companion, but idle, thoughtless, and imprudent to the last degree.
John, the Irishman, soon ran away; with the rest I began to live
very agreeably, for they all respected me the more, as they
found Keimer incapable of instructing them, and that from me
they learned something daily. We never worked on Saturday,
that being Keimer's Sabbath, so I had two days for reading.
My acquaintance with ingenious people in the town increased.
Keimer himself treated me with great civility and apparent regard,
and nothing now made me uneasy but my debt to Vernon, which I
was yet unable to pay, being hitherto but a poor oeconomist.
He, however, kindly made no demand of it.
Our printing-house often wanted sorts, and there was no letter-founder
in America; I had seen types cast at James's in London, but without
much attention to the manner; however, I now contrived a mould,
made use of the letters we had as puncheons, struck the matrices
in lead, And thus supply'd in a pretty tolerable way all deficiencies.
I also engrav'd several things on occasion; I made the ink;
I was warehouseman, and everything, and, in short, quite a factotum.
But, however serviceable I might be, I found that my services
became every day of less importance, as the other hands improv'd
in the business; and, when Keimer paid my second quarter's wages,
he let me know that he felt them too heavy, and thought I should
make an abatement. He grew by degrees less civil, put on more of
the master, frequently found fault, was captious, and seem'd ready for
an outbreaking. I went on, nevertheless, with a good deal of patience,
thinking that his encumber'd circumstances were partly the cause.
At length a trifle snapt our connections; for, a great noise happening
near the court-house, I put my head out of the window to see what
was the matter. Keimer, being in the street, look'd up and saw me,
call'd out to me in a loud voice and angry tone to mind my business,
adding some reproachful words, that nettled me the more for
their publicity, all the neighbors who were looking out on the same
occasion being witnesses how I was treated. He came up immediately
into the printing-house, continu'd the quarrel, high words pass'd
on both sides, he gave me the quarter's warning we had stipulated,
expressing a wish that he had not been oblig'd to so long a warning.
I told him his wish was unnecessary, for I would leave him that instant;
and so, taking my hat, walk'd out of doors, desiring Meredith,
whom I saw below, to take care of some things I left, and bring
them to my lodgings.
Meredith came accordingly in the evening, when we talked my affair over.
He had conceiv'd a great regard for me, and was very unwilling
that I should leave the house while he remain'd in it. He dissuaded
me from returning to my native country, which I began to think of;
he reminded me that Keimer was in debt for all he possess'd;
that his creditors began to be uneasy; that he kept his shop miserably,
sold often without profit for ready money, and often trusted without
keeping accounts; that he must therefore fall, which would make
a vacancy I might profit of. I objected my want of money. He then
let me know that his father had a high opinion of me, and, from some
discourse that had pass'd between them, he was sure would advance
money to set us up, if I would enter into partnership with him.
"My time," says he, "will be out with Keimer in the spring;
by that time we may have our press and types in from London.
I am sensible I am no workman; if you like it, your skill in the
business shall be set against the stock I furnish, and we will share
the profits equally."
The proposal was agreeable, and I consented; his father was in town
and approv'd of it; the more as he saw I had great influence with
his son, had prevail'd on him to abstain long from dram-drinking,
and he hop'd might break him off that wretched habit entirely,
when we came to be so closely connected. I gave an inventory to
the father, who carry'd it to a merchant; the things were sent for,
the secret was to be kept till they should arrive, and in the mean
time I was to get work, if I could, at the other printing-house. But I
found no vacancy there, and so remain'd idle a few days, when Keimer,
on a prospect of being employ'd to print some paper money in New Jersey,
which would require cuts and various types that I only could supply,
and apprehending Bradford might engage me and get the jobb from him,
sent me a very civil message, that old friends should not part for a
few words, the effect of sudden passion, and wishing me to return.
Meredith persuaded me to comply, as it would give more opportunity
for his improvement under my daily instructions; so I return'd,
and we went on more smoothly than for some time before. The New
jersey jobb was obtain'd, I contriv'd a copperplate press for it,
the first that had been seen in the country; I cut several ornaments
and checks for the bills. We went together to Burlington, where I
executed the whole to satisfaction; and he received so large a sum
for the work as to be enabled thereby to keep his head much longer
above water.
At Burlington I made an acquaintance with many principal people
of the province. Several of them had been appointed by the Assembly
a committee to attend the press, and take care that no more bills
were printed than the law directed. They were therefore, by turns,
constantly with us, and generally he who attended, brought with him
a friend or two for company. My mind having been much more improv'd
by reading than Keimer's, I suppose it was for that reason my
conversation seem'd to be more valu'd. They had me to their houses,
introduced me to their friends, and show'd me much civility;
while he, tho' the master, was a little neglected. In truth,
he was an odd fish; ignorant of common life, fond of rudely opposing
receiv'd opinions, slovenly to extream dirtiness, enthusiastic in
some points of religion, and a little knavish withal.
We continu'd there near three months; and by that time I could
reckon among my acquired friends, Judge Allen, Samuel Bustill,
the secretary of the Province, Isaac Pearson, Joseph Cooper,
and several of the Smiths, members of Assembly, and Isaac Decow,
the surveyor-general. The latter was a shrewd, sagacious old man,
who told me that he began for himself, when young, by wheeling
clay for the brick-makers, learned to write after he was of age,
carri'd the chain for surveyors, who taught him surveying, and he
had now by his industry, acquir'd a good estate; and says he,
"I foresee that you will soon work this man out of business,
and make a fortune in it at Philadelphia." He had not then
the least intimation of my intention to set up there or anywhere.
These friends were afterwards of great use to me, as I occasionally
was to some of them. They all continued their regard for me as long as
they lived.
Before I enter upon my public appearance in business, it may be well
to let you know the then state of my mind with regard to my principles
and morals, that you may see how far those influenc'd the future events
of my life. My parents had early given me religious impressions,
and brought me through my childhood piously in the Dissenting way.
But I was scarce fifteen, when, after doubting by turns of several
points, as I found them disputed in the different books I read,
I began to doubt of Revelation itself. Some books against Deism
fell into my hands; they were said to be the substance of sermons
preached at Boyle's Lectures. It happened that they wrought
an effect on me quite contrary to what was intended by them;
for the arguments of the Deists, which were quoted to be refuted,
appeared to me much stronger than the refutations; in short,
I soon became a thorough Deist. My arguments perverted some others,
particularly Collins and Ralph; but, each of them having afterwards
wrong'd me greatly without the least compunction, and recollecting
Keith's conduct towards me (who was another freethinker), and my own
towards Vernon and Miss Read, which at times gave me great trouble,
I began to suspect that this doctrine, tho' it might be true,
was not very useful. My London pamphlet, which had for its motto
these lines of Dryden:
"Whatever is, is right. Though purblind man
Sees but a part o' the chain, the nearest link:
His eyes not carrying to the equal beam,
That poises all above;"
and from the attributes of God, his infinite wisdom, goodness and power,
concluded that nothing could possibly be wrong in the world, and that
vice and virtue were empty distinctions, no such things existing,
appear'd now not so clever a performance as I once thought it;
and I doubted whether some error had not insinuated itself unperceiv'd
into my argument, so as to infect all that follow'd, as is common
in metaphysical reasonings.
I grew convinc'd that truth, sincerity and integrity in dealings
between man and man were of the utmost importance to the felicity
of life; and I form'd written resolutions, which still remain
in my journal book, to practice them ever while I lived.
Revelation had indeed no weight with me, as such; but I entertain'd
an opinion that, though certain actions might not be bad because they
were forbidden by it, or good because it commanded them, yet probably
these actions might be forbidden because they were bad for us,
or commanded because they were beneficial to us, in their own natures,
all the circumstances of things considered. And this persuasion,
with the kind hand of Providence, or some guardian angel, or accidental
favorable circumstances and situations, or all together, preserved me,
thro' this dangerous time of youth, and the hazardous situations I
was sometimes in among strangers, remote from the eye and advice
of my father, without any willful gross immorality or injustice,
that might have been expected from my want of religion. I say willful,
because the instances I have mentioned had something of necessity
in them, from my youth, inexperience, and the knavery of others.
I had therefore a tolerable character to begin the world with;
I valued it properly, and determin'd to preserve it.
We had not been long return'd to Philadelphia before the new types
arriv'd from London. We settled with Keimer, and left him by his consent
before he heard of it. We found a house to hire near the market,
and took it. To lessen the rent, which was then but twenty-four
pounds a year, tho' I have since known it to let for seventy,
we took in Thomas Godfrey, a glazier, and his family, who were to
pay a considerable part of it to us, and we to board with them.
We had scarce opened our letters and put our press in order,
before George House, an acquaintance of mine, brought a countryman
to us, whom he had met in the street inquiring for a printer.
All our cash was now expended in the variety of particulars we
had been obliged to procure, and this countryman's five shillings,
being our first-fruits, and coming so seasonably, gave me more pleasure
than any crown I have since earned; and the gratitude I felt toward
House has made me often more ready than perhaps I should otherwise
have been to assist young beginners.
There are croakers in every country, always boding its ruin.
Such a one then lived in Philadelphia; a person of note, an elderly man,
with a wise look and a very grave manner of speaking; his name
was Samuel Mickle. This gentleman, a stranger to me, stopt one day
at my door, and asked me if I was the young man who had lately
opened a new printing-house. Being answered in the affirmative,
he said he was sorry for me, because it was an expensive undertaking,
and the expense would be lost; for Philadelphia was a sinking place,
the people already half-bankrupts, or near being so; all appearances
to the contrary, such as new buildings and the rise of rents,
being to his certain knowledge fallacious; for they were, in fact,
among the things that would soon ruin us. And he gave me such
a detail of misfortunes now existing, or that were soon to exist,
that he left me half melancholy. Had I known him before I
engaged in this business, probably I never should have done it.
This man continued to live in this decaying place, and to declaim
in the same strain, refusing for many years to buy a house there,
because all was going to destruction; and at last I had the pleasure
of seeing him give five times as much for one as he might have bought
it for when he first began his croaking.
I should have mentioned before, that, in the autumn of the preceding year,
I had form'd most of my ingenious acquaintance into a club of mutual
improvement, which we called the JUNTO; we met on Friday evenings.
The rules that I drew up required that every member, in his turn,
should produce one or more queries on any point of Morals, Politics,
or Natural Philosophy, to be discuss'd by the company; and once
in three months produce and read an essay of his own writing,
on any subject he pleased. Our debates were to be under the direction
of a president, and to be conducted in the sincere spirit of inquiry
after truth, without fondness for dispute, or desire of victory;
and, to prevent warmth, all expressions of positiveness in opinions,
or direct contradiction, were after some time made contraband,
and prohibited under small pecuniary penalties.
The first members were Joseph Breintnal, a copyer of deeds for
the scriveners, a good-natur'd, friendly, middle-ag'd man, a great
lover of poetry, reading all he could meet with, and writing some
that was tolerable; very ingenious in many little Nicknackeries,
and of sensible conversation.
Thomas Godfrey, a self-taught mathematician, great in his way,
and afterward inventor of what is now called Hadley's Quadrant.
But he knew little out of his way, and was not a pleasing companion;
as, like most great mathematicians I have met with, he expected
universal precision in everything said, or was for ever denying or
distinguishing upon trifles, to the disturbance of all conversation.
He soon left us.
Nicholas Scull, a surveyor, afterwards surveyor-general,
who lov'd books, and sometimes made a few verses.
William Parsons, bred a shoemaker, but loving reading, had acquir'd
a considerable share of mathematics, which he first studied
with a view to astrology, that he afterwards laught at it.
He also became surveyor-general.
William Maugridge, a joiner, a most exquisite mechanic, and a solid,
sensible man.
Hugh Meredith, Stephen Potts, and George Webb I have characteriz'd before.
Robert Grace, a young gentleman of some fortune, generous, lively,
and witty; a lover of punning and of his friends.
And William Coleman, then a merchant's clerk, about my age, who had
the coolest, dearest head, the best heart, and the exactest morals
of almost any man I ever met with. He became afterwards a merchant
of great note, and one of our provincial judges. Our friendship
continued without interruption to his death, upward of forty years;
and the club continued almost as long, and was the best school
of philosophy, morality, and politics that then existed in the province;
for our queries, which were read the week preceding their discussion,
put us upon reading with attention upon the several 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. From hence
the long continuance of the club, which I shall have frequent
occasion to speak further of hereafter.
But my giving this account of it here is to show something of the interest
I had, every one of these exerting themselves in recommending business
to us. Breintnal particularly procur'd us from the Quakers the printing
forty sheets of their history, the rest being to be done by Keimer;
and upon this we work'd exceedingly hard, for the price was low.
It was a folio, pro patria size, in pica, with long primer notes.
I compos'd of it a sheet a day, and Meredith worked it off at press;
it was often eleven at night, and sometimes later, before I had
finished my distribution for the next day's work, for the little
jobbs sent in by our other friends now and then put us back.
But so determin'd I was to continue doing a sheet a day of the folio,
that one night, when, having impos'd my forms, I thought my day's
work over, one of them by accident was broken, and two pages
reduced to pi, I immediately distributed and compos'd it over again
before I went to bed; and this industry, visible to our neighbors,
began to give us character and credit; particularly, I was told,
that mention being made of the new printing-office at the merchants'
Every-night club, the general opinion was that it must fail,
there being already two printers in the place, Keimer and Bradford;
but Dr. Baird (whom you and I saw many years after at his native place,
St. Andrew's in Scotland) gave a contrary opinion: "For the industry
of that Franklin," says he, "is superior to 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."
This struck the rest, and we soon after had offers from one of them
to supply us with stationery; but as yet we did not chuse to engage in
shop business.
I mention this industry the more particularly and the more freely,
tho' it seems to be talking in my own praise, that those of
my posterity, who shall read it, may know the use of that virtue,
when they see its effects in my favour throughout this relation.
George Webb, who had found a female friend that lent him wherewith
to purchase his time of Keimer, now came to offer himself as a
journeyman to us. We could not then employ him; but I foolishly
let him know as a secret that I soon intended to begin a newspaper,
and might then have work for him. My hopes of success, as I told him,
were founded on this, that the then only newspaper, printed by Bradford,
was a paltry thing, wretchedly manag'd, no way entertaining, and yet
was profitable to him; I therefore thought a good paper would scarcely
fail of good encouragement. I requested Webb not to mention it;
but he told it to Keimer, who immediately, to be beforehand with me,
published proposals for printing one himself, on which Webb
was to be employ'd. I resented this; and, to counteract them,
as I could not yet begin our paper, I wrote several pieces of
entertainment for Bradford's paper, under the title of the BUSY BODY,
which Breintnal continu'd some months. By this means the attention
of the publick was fixed on that paper, and Keimer's proposals,
which we burlesqu'd and ridicul'd, were disregarded. He began
his paper, however, and, after carrying it on three quarters of
a year, with at most only ninety subscribers, he offered it to me
for a trifle; and I, having been ready some time to go on with it,
took it in hand directly; and it prov'd in a few years extremely
profitable to me.
I perceive that I am apt to speak in the singular number,
though our partnership still continu'd; the reason may be that,
in fact, the whole management of the business lay upon me.
Meredith was no compositor, a poor pressman, and seldom sober.
My friends lamented my connection with him, but I was to make the best
of it.
Our first papers made a quite different appearance from any before
in the province; a better type, and better printed; but some spirited
remarks of my writing, on the dispute then going on between Governor
Burnet and the Massachusetts Assembly, struck the principal people,
occasioned the paper and the manager of it to be much talk'd of,
and in a few weeks brought them all to be our subscribers.
Their example was follow'd by many, and our number went on
growing continually. This was one of the first good effects of my
having learnt a little to scribble; another was, that the leading men,
seeing a newspaper now in the hands of one who could also handle
a pen, thought it convenient to oblige and encourage me.
Bradford still printed the votes, and laws, and other publick business.
He had printed an address of the House to the governor, in a coarse,
blundering manner, we reprinted it elegantly and correctly,
and sent one to every member. They were sensible of the difference:
it strengthened the hands of our friends in the House, and they
voted us their printers for the year ensuing.
Among my friends in the House I must not forget Mr. Hamilton,
before mentioned, who was then returned from England, and had a seat
in it. He interested himself for me strongly in that instance,
as he did in many others afterward, continuing his patronage till
his death.[*]
[ I got his son once L500.--[Marg. note.]]
Mr. Vernon, about this time, put me in mind of the debt I ow'd him,
but did not press me. I wrote him an ingenuous letter of acknowledgment,
crav'd his forbearance a little longer, which he allow'd me,
and as soon as I was able, I paid the principal with interest,
and many thanks; so that erratum was in some degree corrected.
But now another difficulty came upon me which I had never the least
reason to expect. Mr. Meredith's father, who was to have paid for
our printing-house, according to the expectations given me, was able
to advance only one hundred pounds currency, which had been paid;
and a hundred more was due to the merchant, who grew impatient,
and su'd us all. We gave bail, but saw that, if the money could
not be rais'd in time, the suit must soon come to a judgment
and execution, and our hopeful prospects must, with us, be ruined,
as the press and letters must be sold for payment, perhaps at
half price.
In this distress two true friends, whose kindness I have never forgotten,
nor ever shall forget while I can remember any thing, came to
me separately, unknown to each other, and, without any application
from me, offering each of them to advance me all the money that should
be necessary to enable me to take the whole business upon myself,
if that should be practicable; but they did not like my continuing
the partnership with Meredith, who, as they said, was often seen
drunk in the streets, and playing at low games in alehouses, much to
our discredit. These two friends were William Coleman and Robert Grace.
I told them I could not propose a separation while any prospect
remain'd of the Merediths' fulfilling their part of our agreement,
because I thought myself under great obligations to them for what they
had done, and would do if they could; but, if they finally fail'd
in their performance, and our partnership must be dissolv'd, I should
then think myself at liberty to accept the assistance of my friends.
Thus the matter rested for some time, when I said to my partner,
"Perhaps your father is dissatisfied at the part you have undertaken
in this affair of ours, and is unwilling to advance for you and
me what he would for you alone. If that is the case, tell me,
and I will resign the whole to you, and go about my business."
"No," said he, "my father has really been disappointed, and is
really unable; and I am unwilling to distress him farther.
I see this is a business I am not fit for. I was bred a farmer,
and it was a folly in me to come to town, and put myself, at thirty
years of age, an apprentice to learn a new trade. Many of our Welsh
people are going to settle in North Carolina, where land is cheap.
I am inclin'd to go with them, and follow my old employment.
You may find friends to assist you. If you will take the debts
of the company upon you; return to my father the hundred pound he
has advanced; pay my little personal debts, and give me thirty
pounds and a new saddle, I will relinquish the partnership,
and leave the whole in your hands." I agreed to this proposal:
it was drawn up in writing, sign'd, and seal'd immediately.
I gave him what he demanded, and he went soon after to Carolina,
from whence he sent me next year two long letters, containing the
best account that had been given of that country, the climate,
the soil, husbandry, etc., for in those matters he was very judicious.
I printed them in the papers, and they gave great satisfaction to
the publick.
As soon as he was gone, I recurr'd to my two friends; and because I
would not give an unkind preference to either, I took half of
what each had offered and I wanted of one, and half of the other;
paid off the company's debts, and went on with the business
in my own name, advertising that the partnership was dissolved.
I think this was in or about the year 1729.
About this time there was a cry among the people for more paper money,
only fifteen thousand pounds being extant in the province, and that soon
to be sunk. The wealthy inhabitants oppos'd any addition, being against
all paper currency, from an apprehension that it would depreciate,
as it had done in New England, to the prejudice of all creditors.
We had discuss'd this point in our Junto, where I was on the side
of an addition, being persuaded that the first small sum struck in 1723
had done much good by increasing the trade, employment, and number
of inhabitants in the province, since I now saw all the old houses
inhabited, and many new ones building; whereas I remembered well,
that when I first walk'd about the streets of Philadelphia,
eating my roll, I saw most of the houses in Walnut-street, between
Second and Front streets, with bills on their doors, "To be let";
and many likewise in Chestnut-street and other streets, which made me then
think the inhabitants of the city were deserting it one after another.
Our debates possess'd me so fully of the subject, that I wrote
and printed an anonymous pamphlet on it, entitled "The Nature and
Necessity of a Paper Currency." It was well receiv'd by the common
people in general; but the rich men dislik'd it, for it increas'd
and strengthen'd the clamor for more money, and they happening to have
no writers among them that were able to answer it, their opposition
slacken'd, and the point was carried by a majority in the House.
My friends there, who conceiv'd I had been of some service,
thought fit to reward me by employing me in printing the money;
a very profitable jobb and a great help to me. This was another
advantage gain'd by my being able to write.
The utility of this currency became by time and experience so evident as
never afterwards to be much disputed; so that it grew soon to fifty-five
thousand pounds, and in 1739 to eighty thousand pounds, since which it
arose during war to upwards of three hundred and fifty thousand pounds,
trade, building, and inhabitants all the while increasing, till
I now think there are limits beyond which the quantity may be hurtful.
I soon after obtain'd, thro' my friend Hamilton, the printing of the
Newcastle paper money, another profitable jobb as I then thought it;
small things appearing great to those in small circumstances;
and these, to me, were really great advantages, as they were
great encouragements. He procured for me, also, the printing
of the laws and votes of that government, which continu'd
in my hands as long as I follow'd the business.
I now open'd a little stationer's shop. I had in it blanks of
all sorts, the correctest that ever appear'd among us, being assisted
in that by my friend Breintnal. I had also paper, parchment,
chapmen's books, etc. One Whitemash, a compositor I had known in London,
an excellent workman, now came to me, and work'd with me constantly
and diligently; and I took an apprentice, the son of Aquila Rose.
I began now gradually to pay off the debt I was under for the
printing-house. In order to secure my credit and character as a tradesman,
I took care not only to be in reality industrious and frugal,
but to avoid all appearances to the contrary. I drest plainly;
I was seen at no places of idle diversion. I never went out a fishing
or shooting; a book, indeed, sometimes debauch'd me from my work,
but that was seldom, snug, and gave no scandal; and, to show that I
was not above my business, I sometimes brought home the paper
I purchas'd at the stores thro' the streets on a wheelbarrow.
Thus being esteem'd an industrious, thriving young man, and paying
duly for what I bought, the merchants who imported stationery
solicited my custom; others proposed supplying me with books,
and I went on swimmingly. In the mean time, Keimer's credit
and business declining daily, he was at last forc'd to sell his
printing house to satisfy his creditors. He went to Barbadoes,
and there lived some years in very poor circumstances.
His apprentice, David Harry, whom I had instructed while I work'd
with him, set up in his place at Philadelphia, having bought
his materials. I was at first apprehensive of a powerful rival
in Harry, as his friends were very able, and had a good deal
of interest. I therefore propos'd a partner-ship to him which he,
fortunately for me, rejected with scorn. He was very proud,
dress'd like a gentleman, liv'd expensively, took much diversion
and pleasure abroad, ran in debt, and neglected his business;
upon which, all business left him; and, finding nothing to do,
he followed Keimer to Barbadoes, taking the printing-house with him.
There this apprentice employ'd his former master as a journeyman;
they quarrel'd often; Harry went continually behindhand, and at
length was forc'd to sell his types and return to his country work
in Pensilvania. The person that bought them employ'd Keimer to use them,
but in a few years he died.
There remained now no competitor with me at Philadelphia but the
old one, Bradford; who was rich and easy, did a little printing
now and then by straggling hands, but was not very anxious
about the business. However, as he kept the post-office, it was
imagined he had better opportunities of obtaining news; his paper
was thought a better distributer of advertisements than mine,
and therefore had many, more, which was a profitable thing to him,
and a disadvantage to me; for, tho' I did indeed receive and send
papers by the post, yet the publick opinion was otherwise, for what
I did send was by bribing the riders, who took them privately,
Bradford being unkind enough to forbid it, which occasion'd some
resentment on my part; and I thought so meanly of him for it, that,
when I afterward came into his situation, I took care never to imitate it.
I had hitherto continu'd to board with Godfrey, who lived in part
of my house with his wife and children, and had one side of the shop
for his glazier's business, tho' he worked little, being always
absorbed in his mathematics. Mrs. Godfrey projected a match for me
with a relation's daughter, took opportunities of bringing us often
together, till a serious courtship on my part ensu'd, the girl being
in herself very deserving. The old folks encourag'd me by continual
invitations to supper, and by leaving us together, till at length
it was time to explain. Mrs. Godfrey manag'd our little treaty.
I let her know that I expected as much money with their daughter
as would pay off my remaining debt for the printing-house, which I
believe was not then above a hundred pounds. She brought me word
they had no such sum to spare; I said they might mortgage their
house in the loan-office. The answer to this, after some days, was,
that they did not approve the match; that, on inquiry of Bradford,
they had been inform'd the printing business was not a profitable one;
the types would soon be worn out, and more wanted; that S. Keimer
and D. Harry had failed one after the other, and I should probably
soon follow them; and, therefore, I was forbidden the house,
and the daughter shut up.
Whether this was a real change of sentiment or only artifice,
on a supposition of our being too far engaged in affection to retract,
and therefore that we should steal a marriage, which would leave
them at liberty to give or withhold what they pleas'd, I know not;
but I suspected the latter, resented it, and went no more.
Mrs. Godfrey brought me afterward some more favorable accounts of
their disposition, and would have drawn me on again; but I declared
absolutely my resolution to have nothing more to do with that family.
This was resented by the Godfreys; we differ'd, and they removed,
leaving me the whole house, and I resolved to take no more inmates.
But this affair having turned my thoughts to marriage, I look'd
round me and made overtures of acquaintance in other places;
but soon found that, the business of a printer being generally
thought a poor one, I was not to expect money with a wife,
unless with such a one as I should not otherwise think agreeable.
In the mean time, that hard-to-be-governed passion of youth hurried
me frequently into intrigues with low women that fell in my way,
which were attended with some expense and great inconvenience,
besides a continual risque to my health by a distemper which of
all things I dreaded, though by great good luck I escaped it.
A friendly correspondence as neighbors and old acquaintances
had continued between me and Mrs. Read's family, who all had a
regard for me from the time of my first lodging in their house.
I was often invited there and consulted in their affairs,
wherein I sometimes was of service. I piti'd poor Miss Read's
unfortunate situation, who was generally dejected, seldom cheerful,
and avoided company. I considered my giddiness and inconstancy
when in London as in a great degree the cause of her unhappiness,
tho' the mother was good enough to think the fault more her own
than mine, as she had prevented our marrying before I went thither,
and persuaded the other match in my absence. Our mutual affection
was revived, but there were now great objections to our union.
The match was indeed looked upon as invalid, a preceding wife being
said to be living in England; but this could not easily be prov'd,
because of the distance; and, tho' there was a report of his death,
it was not certain. Then, tho' it should be true, he had left
many debts, which his successor might be call'd upon to pay.
We ventured, however, over all these difficulties, and I took her
to wife, September 1st, 1730. None of the inconveniences happened
that we had apprehended, she proved a good and faithful helpmate,
assisted me much by attending the shop; we throve together, and have
ever mutually endeavored to make each other happy. Thus I corrected
that great erratum as well as I could.
About this time, our club meeting, not at a tavern, but in a little
room of Mr. Grace's, set apart for that purpose, a proposition
was made by me, that, since our books were often referr'd to in our
disquisitions upon the queries, it might be convenient to us to have them
altogether where we met, that upon occasion they might be consulted;
and by thus clubbing our books to a common library, we should,
while we lik'd to keep them together, have each of us the advantage
of using the books of all the other members, which would be nearly
as beneficial as if each owned the whole. It was lik'd and agreed to,
and we fill'd one end of the room with such books as we could
best spare. The number was not so great as we expected; and tho'
they had been of great use, yet some inconveniences occurring
for want of due care of them, the collection, after about a year,
was separated, and each took his books home again
And now I set on foot my first project of a public nature, that for
a subscription library. I drew up the proposals, got them put into
form by our great scrivener, Brockden, and, by the help of my friends
in the Junto, procured fifty subscribers of forty shillings each
to begin with, and ten shillings a year for fifty years, the term
our company was to continue. We afterwards obtain'd a charter,
the company being increased to one hundred: this was the mother
of all the North American subscription libraries, now so numerous.
It is become a great thing itself, and continually increasing.
These libraries have improved the general conversation of the Americans,
made the common tradesmen and farmers as intelligent as most gentlemen
from other countries, and perhaps have contributed in some degree
to the stand so generally made throughout the colonies in defense
of their privileges.
Memo. Thus far was written with the intention express'd in the beginning
and therefore contains several little family anecdotes of no importance
to others. What follows was written many years after in compliance
with the advice contain'd in these letters, and accordingly intended for
the public. The affairs of the Revolution occasion'd the interruption.