The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin
Chapter Two
Young Franklin is eager to acquire literary Reputation — He
finds some anonymous Essays to his Brother's Newspaper — The
Origin of his Aversion to Arbitrary Power — He becomes discontented
with his Situation — Leaves Boston — Embarks for New York at
the age of Seventeen — Arrives there and sets out soon after
for Philadelphia — Saves the life of a Dutch-man — A Dissertation
concerning the Pilgrim's Progress, written by the celebrated
John Bunyan — Our Author cures himself of a Fever by drinking
cold Water — Some Account of Dr. Brown — Arrival in Philadelphia.
My
brother had, in 1720 or 1721, begun to print a newspaper. It
was the second that appeared in America, and was called the
New England Courant. The only one before it was the Boston News-Letter.
I remember his being dissuaded by some of his friends from the
undertaking, as not likely to succeed, one newspaper being,
in their judgment, enough for America. At this time (1771) there
are not less than five-and-twenty. He went on, however, with
the undertaking, and after having worked in composing the types
and printing off the sheets, I was employed to carry the papers
thro' the streets to the customers.
He
had some ingenious men among his friends, who amus'd themselves
by writing little pieces for this paper, which gain'd it credit
and made it more in demand, and these gentlemen often visited
us.
Hearing their conversations, and their accounts of the approbation
their papers were received with,
I was excited to try my hand
among them; but, being still a boy, and suspecting that my brother
would object to printing anything of mine in his paper if he
knew it to be mine, I contrived to disguise my hand, and, writing
an anonymous paper, I put it in at night under the door of the
printing-house. It was found in the morning, and communicated
to his writing friends when they call'd in as usual. They read
it, commented on it in my hearing, and I had the exquisite pleasure
of finding it met with their approbation, and that, in their
different guesses at the author, none were named but men of
some character among us for learning and ingenuity. I suppose
now that I was rather lucky in my judges, and that perhaps they
were not really so very good ones as I then esteem'd them.
Encourag'd,
however, by this, I wrote and convey'd in the same way to the
press several more papers which were equally approv'd; and I
kept my secret till my small fund of sense for such performances
was pretty well exhausted and then I discovered it, when I began
to be considered a little more by my brother's acquaintance,
and in a manner that did not quite please him, as he thought,
probably with reason, that it tended to make me too vain. And,
perhaps, this might be one occasion of the differences that
we began to have about this time. Though a brother, he considered
himself as my master, and me as his apprentice, and accordingly,
expected the same services from me as he would from another,
while I thought he demean'd me too much in some he requir'd
of me, who from a brother expected more indulgence. Our disputes
were often brought before our father, and I fancy I was either
generally in the right, or else a better pleader, because the
judgment was generally in my favor. But my brother was passionate,
and had often beaten me, which I took extreamly amiss; and,
thinking my apprenticeship very tedious, I was continually wishing
for some opportunity of shortening it, which at length offered
in a manner unexpected.
One
of the pieces in our newspaper on some political point, which
I have now forgotten, gave offense to the Assembly. He was taken
up, censur'd, and imprison'd for a month, by the speaker's warrant,
I suppose, because he would not discover his author. I too was
taken up and examin'd before the council; but, tho' I did not
give them any satisfaction, they content'd themselves with admonishing
me, and dismissed me, considering me, perhaps, as an apprentice,
who was bound to keep his master's secrets.
During
my brother's confinement, which I 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 young genius that had a turn for
libelling and satyr. My brother's discharge was accompany'd
with an order of the House (a very odd one), that "James
Franklin should no longer print the paper called the New England
Courant."
There
was a consultation held in our printing-house among his friends,
what he should do in this case. Some proposed to evade the order
by changing the name of the paper; but my brother, seeing inconveniences
in that, it was finally concluded on as a better way, to let
it be printed for the future under the name of Benjamin Franklin;
and to avoid the censure of the Assembly, that might fall on
him as still printing it by his apprentice, the contrivance
was that my old indenture should be return'd to me, with a full
discharge on the back of it, to be shown on occasion, but to
secure to him the benefit of my service, I was to sign new indentures
for the remainder of the term, which were to be kept private.
A very flimsy scheme it was; however, it was immediately executed,
and the paper went on accordingly, under my name for several
months.
At
length, a fresh difference arising between my brother and me,
I took upon me to assert my 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-natur'd man: perhaps I was
too saucy and provoking.
When
he found I would leave him, he took care to prevent my getting
employment in any other printing-house of the town, by going
round and speaking to every master, who accordingly refus'd
to give me work. I then thought of going to New York, as the
nearest place where there was a printer; and I was rather inclin'd
to leave Boston when I reflected that I had already made myself
a little obnoxious to the governing party, and, from the arbitrary
proceedings of the Assembly in my brother's case, it was likely
I might, if I stay'd, soon bring myself into scrapes; and farther,
that my indiscrete disputations about religion began to make
me pointed at with horror by good people as an infidel or atheist.
I determin'd on the point, but my father now siding with my
brother, I was sensible that, if I attempted to go openly, means
would be used to prevent me. My friend Collins, therefore, undertook
to manage a little for me. He agreed with the captain of a New
York sloop for my passage, under the notion of my being a young
acquaintance of his, that had got a naughty girl with child,
whose friends would compel me to marry her, and therefore I
could not appear or come away publicly. So I sold some of my
books to raise a little money, was taken on board privately,
and as we had a fair wind, in three days I found myself in New
York, near 300 miles from home, a boy of but 17, without the
least recommendation to, or knowledge of any person in the place,
and with very little money in my pocket.
My
inclinations for the sea were by this time worne out, or I might
now have gratify'd them. But, having a trade, and supposing
myself a pretty good workman, I offer'd my service to the printer
in the place, old Mr. William Bradford, who had been the first
printer in Pennsylvania, but removed from thence upon the quarrel
of George Keith. He could give me no employment, having little
to do, and help enough already; but says he, "My son at
Philadelphia has lately lost his principal hand, Aquila Rose,
by death; if you go thither, I believe he may employ you."
Philadelphia was a hundred miles further; I set out, however,
in a boat for Amboy, leaving my chest and things to follow me
round by sea.
In
crossing the bay, we met with a squall that tore our rotten
sails to pieces, prevented our getting into the Kill and drove
us upon Long Island. In our way, a drunken Dutchman, who was
a passenger too, fell overboard; when he was sinking, I reached
through the water to his shock pate, and drew him up, so that
we got him in again. His ducking sobered him a little, and he
went to sleep, taking first out of his pocket a book, which
he desir'd I would dry for him. It proved to be my old favorite
author, Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, in Dutch, finely printed
on good paper, with copper cuts, a dress better than I had ever
seen it wear in its own language. I have since found that it
has been translated into most of the languages of Europe, and
suppose it has been more generally read than any other book,
except perhaps the Bible. Honest John was the first that I know
of who mix'd narration and dialogue; a method of writing very
engaging to the reader, who in the most interesting parts finds
himself, as it were, brought into the company and present at
the discourse. De Foe in his Cruso, his Moll Flanders, Religious
Courtship, Family Instructor, and other pieces, has imitated
it with success; and Richardson has done the same, in his Pamela,
etc.
When
we drew near the island, we found it was at a place where there
could be no landing, there being a great surff on the stony
beach. So we dropt anchor, and swung round towards the shore.
Some people came down to the water edge and hallow'd to us,
as we did to them; but the wind was so high, and the surff so
loud, that we could not hear so as to understand each other.
There were canoes on the shore, and we made signs, and hallow'd
that they should fetch us; but they either did not understand
us, or thought it impracticable, so they went away, and night
coming on, we had no remedy but to wait till the wind should
abate; and, in the meantime, the boatman and I concluded to
sleep, if we could; and so crowded into the scuttle, with the
Dutchman, who was still wet, and the spray beating over the
head of our boat, leak'd thro' to us, so that we were soon almost
as wet as he. In this manner we lay all night, with very little
rest; but, the wind abating the next day, we made a shift to
reach Amboy before night, having been thirty hours on the water,
without victuals, or any drink but a bottle of filthy rum, and
the water we sail'd on being salt.
In
the evening I found myself very feverish, and went in to bed;
but, having read somewhere that cold water drank plentifully
was good for a fever, I follow'd the prescription, sweat plentiful
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 Burlington, where I was told I should find boats that would
carry me the rest of the way to Philadelphia.
It
rained very hard all the day; I was thoroughly soak'd, and by
noon a good deal tired; so I stopt at a poor inn, where I staid
all night, beginning now to wish that I had never left home.
I cut so miserable a figure, too, that I found, by the questions
ask'd me, I was suspected to be some runaway servant, and in
danger of being taken up on that suspicion. However, I proceeded
the next day, and got in the evening to an inn, within eight
or ten miles of Burlington, kept by one Dr. Brown. He entered
into conversation with me while I took some refreshment, and,
finding I had read a little, became very sociable and friendly.
Our acquaintance continu'd as long as he liv'd. He had been,
I imagine, an itinerant doctor, for there was no town in England,
or country in Europe, of which he could not give a very particular
account. He had some letters, and was ingenious, but much of
an unbeliever, and wickedly undertook, some years after, to
travestie the Bible in doggrel verse, as Cotton had done Virgil.
By this means he set many of the facts in a very ridiculous
light, and might have hurt weak minds if his work had been published;
but it never was.
At
his house I lay that night, and the next morning reach'd Burlington,
but had the mortification to find that the regular boats were
gone a little before my coming, and no other expected to go
before Tuesday, this being Saturday; wherefore I returned to
an old woman in the town, of whom I had bought gingerbread to
eat on the water, and ask'd her advice. She invited me to lodge
at her house till a passage by water should offer; and being
tired with my foot travelling, I accepted the invitation. She
understanding I was a printer, would have had me stay at that
town and follow my business, being ignorant of the stock necessary
to begin with. She was very hospitable, gave me a dinner of
ox-cheek with great good will, accepting only a pot of ale in
return; and I thought myself fixed till Tuesday should come.
However, walking in the evening by the side of the river, a
boat came by, which I found was going towards Philadelphia,
with several people in her. They took me in, and, as there was
no wind, we row'd all the way; and about midnight, not having
yet seen the city, some of the company were confident we must
have passed it, and would row no farther; the others knew not
where we were; so we put toward the shore, got into a creek,
landed near an old fence, with the rails of which we made a
fire, the night being cold, in October, and there we remained
till daylight. Then one of the 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 arriv'd there about eight
or nine o'clock on the Sunday morning, and landed at the Market-street
wharf.
I have
been the more particular in this description of my journey,
and shall be so of my first entry into that city, that you may
in your mind compare such unlikely beginnings with the figure
I have since made there. I was in my working dress, my best
cloaths being to come round by sea. I was dirty from my journey;
my pockets were stuff'd out with shirts and stockings, and I
knew no soul nor where to look for lodging. I was fatigued with
travelling, rowing, and want of rest, I was very hungry; and
my whole stock of cash consisted of a Dutch dollar, and about
a shilling in copper. The latter I gave the people of the boat
for my passage, who at first refus'd it, on account of my rowing;
but I insisted on their taking it. A man being sometimes more
generous when he has but a little money than when he has plenty,
perhaps thro' fear of being thought to have but little.
End of Chapter Two. Continue to Chapter Three of Benjamin Franklin's Autobiography
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