CENTURY READINGS FOR A COURSE IN AMERICAN LITERATURE BENJAMIN FRANKLIN (1706-1790) The life of Benjamin Franklin, especially in its early years, is doubtless better known than .that of any other person connected with American history. Every child can tell of his entry into Philadelphia eating a roll while his future wife looked on in amusement, and most school boys have read of his trip to England under the patronage of the governor of the province, his discovery that he had been duped, his return at length to Philadelphia to enter business soon on his own account, his steady prosperity, his entry into the struggle of the colonies for independence, and his service abroad in England and in France. Only incidentally was Franklin a man of letters. He was a printer, a man of affairs, a statesman, a postmaster, a diplomat, a scientist, a philosopher, and what he wrote was the by-product of his activities in these various. fields or else the diversions of idle moments. The Autobiography was simply the whim of a moment of leisure while visiting an English home. It was written for his son alone, with no thought of publication. He was careless about preserving what he wrote and he took no pains to collect his writings. When others did this he was not interested enough to superintend the edition or even to dictate its plan. It is doubtful that even in his last years he had any idea that later generations would consider that he was a man of letters. He hoped to be known as a scientist and as a patriot and a statesman. From a literary standpoint the really valuable part of his product is small. The Autobiography, Father Abraham's Address, which gathers into one piece the maxims of Poor Richard's Almanac, and in addition a few bits like The Whistle' are all that need concern the student of literature. But even with this desultory and meager showing he may be ranked as the leading author in America before Washington Irving. What other American writings of the eighteenth century are still read? His Autobiography still circulates widely in the libraries, and is still placed at the head of all reading lists in American literature. A SELECTION FROM FRANKLIN'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY 1 which 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 Projects, and another of Dr. 5 Mather's, called Essays to Do Good, which perhaps gave me a turn of thinking that had an influence on some of the principal future events of my life. From a child I was fond of reading. and all the little money that came into my hands was ever laid out in books. Pleased with the Pilgrim's Progress, my first collection was of John Bunyan's works in separate little volumes. I afterward sold them to enable me to buy R. Burton's 10 Historical Collections; they were small chapmen's books, and cheap, forty or fifty in all. My father's little library consisted chiefly of books in polemic divinity, most of which I read, and have since often re- 15 gretted that, at a time when I had such a thirst for knowledge, more proper books had not fallen in my way, since it was now resolved that I should not be a clergyman. Plutarch's Lives there was in 20 I stood out some time, but at last was Text from the Bigelow edition, courtesy of G. P. Putnam's Sons." This bookish inclination at length determined my father to make me a printer, though he had already one son (James) of that profession. In 1717 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 inclination, my father was impatient to have me bound to my brother. persuaded, and signed the indentures when I was yet but twelve years old. I was to serve as an apprentice 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 proficiency 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 room reading the greatest part of the night, when the book was borrowed in the evening and to be returned early in the morning, lest it should be missed or wanted. perhaps enmities where you may have occasion for friendship. I had caught it by reading my father's books of dispute about religion. Persons of good sense, I have 5 since observed, seldom fall into it, except lawyers, university men, and men of all sorts that have been bred at Edinburgh. A question was once, somehow or other, started between Collins and me, of the propriety of educating the female sex in learning, and their abilities for study. He was of the opinion that it was improper, and that they were naturally unequal to it. I took the contrary side, perhaps a little15 for dispute's sake. He was naturally more eloquent, had a ready plenty of words; and sometimes, as I thought, bore me down more by his fluency than by the strength of his reasons. As we parted without settling the point, and were not to see one another again for some time, I sat down to put my arguments in writing, which I copied fair and sent to him. He answered, and I replied. Three or four letters of a side had passed, when my father happened to find my papers and read them. Without entering into the discussion, he took occasion to talk to me about the manner of my writing; observed that, though I had the advantage of my antagonist in correct spelling and pointing (which I owed to the printing-house), I fell far short in elegance of expression, in method, and in perspicuity, of which he convinced me by several instances. I saw the justice of his remarks, and thence grew more attentive to the manner in writing, and determined to endeavor at improvement. 25 And after some time an ingenious tradesman, Mr. Matthew Adams, who had a pretty collection of books, and who frequented our printing-house, took notice of me, invited me to his library, and very 20 kindly lent me such books as I chose to read. I now took a fancy to poetry, and made some little pieces; my brother, thinking it might turn to account, encouraged me, and put me on composing occasional ballads. One was called The Lighthouse Tragedy, and contained an account of the drowning of Captain Worthilake, with his two daughters; the other was a sailor's song, on the taking of Teach (or Black- 30 beard), the pirate. They were wretched stuff, in the Grub Street ballad style; and when they were printed he sent me about the town to sell them. The first sold wonderfully, the event being recent, having 35 made a great noise. This flattered my vanity; but my father discouraged me by ridiculing my performances, and telling me verse-makers were generally beggars. So I escaped being a poet, most probably 40 a very bad one; but as prose writing has been of great use to me in the course of my life, and was a principal means of my advancement, I shall tell you how, in such a situation, I acquired what little ability 45 I have in that way. 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 argu- 50 ment, 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 55 is necessary to bring it into practice; and thence, besides souring and spoiling the conversation, is productive of disgusts and About this time I met with an odd volume of the Spectator. It was the third. 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 in view I took some of the papers, and making short hints of the sentiment 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 fully as it had been expressed before, in any suitable words that should come to hand. 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 recol |