The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin (11 page)

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.

Letter from Mr. Abel James, with Notes of my Life
(received in Paris).

"MY DEAR AND HONORED FRIEND: I have often been desirous of
writing to thee, but could not be reconciled to the thought that
the letter might fall into the hands of the British, lest some
printer or busy-body should publish some part of the contents,
and give our friend pain, and myself censure.

"Some time since there fell into my hands, to my great joy,
about twenty-three sheets in thy own handwriting, containing an
account of the parentage and life of thyself, directed to thy son,
ending in the year 1730, with which there were notes, likewise in
thy writing; a copy of which I inclose, in hopes it may be a means,
if thou continued it up to a later period, that the first and latter
part may be put together; and if it is not yet continued, I hope thee
will not delay it. Life is uncertain, as the preacher tells us;
and what will the world say if kind, humane, and benevolent Ben.
Franklin should leave his friends and the world deprived of so pleasing
and profitable a work; a work which would be useful and entertaining
not only to a few, but to millions? The influence writings under
that class have on the minds of youth is very great, and has nowhere
appeared to me so plain, as in our public friend's journals.
It almost insensibly leads the youth into the resolution of endeavoring
to become as good and eminent as the journalist. Should thine,
for instance, when published (and I think it could not fail of
it), lead the youth to equal the industry and temperance of thy
early youth, what a blessing with that class would such a work be!
I know of no character living, nor many of them put together,
who has so much in his power as thyself to promote a greater spirit
of industry and early attention to business, frugality, and temperance
with the American youth. Not that I think the work would have no
other merit and use in the world, far from it; but the first is
of such vast importance that I know nothing that can equal it."

The foregoing letter and the minutes accompanying it being shown
to a friend, I received from him the following:

Letter from Mr. Benjamin Vaughan.
"PARIS, January 31, 1783.

"My DEAREST SIR: When I had read over your sheets of minutes
of the principal incidents of your life, recovered for you by your
Quaker acquaintance, I told you I would send you a letter expressing
my reasons why I thought it would be useful to complete and publish
it as he desired. Various concerns have for some time past prevented
this letter being written, and I do not know whether it was worth
any expectation; happening to be at leisure, however, at present,
I shall by writing, at least interest and instruct myself; but as the
terms I am inclined to use may tend to offend a person of your manners,
I shall only tell you how I would address any other person,
who was as good and as great as yourself, but less diffident.
I would say to him, Sir, I solicit the history of your life
from the following motives: Your history is so remarkable,
that if you do not give it, somebody else will certainly give it;
and perhaps so as nearly to do as much harm, as your own management
of the thing might do good. It will moreover present a table
of the internal circumstances of your country, which will very
much tend to invite to it settlers of virtuous and manly minds.
And considering the eagerness with which such information is sought
by them, and the extent of your reputation, I do not know of a
more efficacious advertisement than your biography would give.
All that has happened to you is also connected with the detail
of the manners and situation of a rising people; and in this
respect I do not think that the writings of Caesar and Tacitus can
be more interesting to a true judge of human nature and society.
But these, sir, are small reasons, in my opinion, compared with
the chance which your life will give for the forming of future
great men; and in conjunction with your Art of Virtue (which you
design to publish) of improving the features of private character,
and consequently of aiding all happiness, both public and domestic.
The two works I allude to, sir, will in particular give a noble
rule and example of self-education. School and other education
constantly proceed upon false principles, and show a clumsy
apparatus pointed at a false mark; but your apparatus is simple,
and the mark a true one; and while parents and young persons
are left destitute of other just means of estimating and becoming
prepared for a reasonable course in life, your discovery that
the thing is in many a man's private power, will be invaluable!
Influence upon the private character, late in life, is not only
an influence late in life, but a weak influence. It is in youth
that we plant our chief habits and prejudices; it is in youth
that we take our party as to profession, pursuits and matrimony.
In youth, therefore, the turn is given; in youth the education even
of the next generation is given; in youth the private and public
character is determined; and the term of life extending but from youth
to age, life ought to begin well from youth, and more especially
before we take our party as to our principal objects. But your
biography will not merely teach self-education, but the education
of a wise man; and the wisest man will receive lights and improve
his progress, by seeing detailed the conduct of another wise man.
And why are weaker men to be deprived of such helps, when we see
our race has been blundering on in the dark, almost without a guide
in this particular, from the farthest trace of time? Show then,
sir, how much is to be done, both to sons and fathers; and invite
all wise men to become like yourself, and other men to become wise.
When we see how cruel statesmen and warriors can be to the human race,
and how absurd distinguished men can be to their acquaintance,
it will be instructive to observe the instances multiply of pacific,
acquiescing manners; and to find how compatible it is to be great
and domestic, enviable and yet good-humored.

"The little private incidents which you will also have to relate,
will have considerable use, as we want, above all things, rules of
prudence in ordinary affairs; and it will be curious to see how you
have acted in these. It will be so far a sort of key to life,
and explain many things that all men ought to have once explained
to them, to give, them a chance of becoming wise by foresight.
The nearest thing to having experience of one's own, is to have other
people's affairs brought before us in a shape that is interesting;
this is sure to happen from your pen; our affairs and management will
have an air of simplicity or importance that will not fail to strike;
and I am convinced you have conducted them with as much originality
as if you had been conducting discussions in politics or philosophy;
and what more worthy of experiments and system (its importance and its
errors considered) than human life?

"Some men have been virtuous blindly, others have speculated
fantastically, and others have been shrewd to bad purposes;
but you, sir, I am sure, will give under your hand, nothing but
what is at the same moment, wise, practical and good, your account
of yourself (for I suppose the parallel I am drawing for Dr. Franklin,
will hold not only in point of character, but of private history)
will show that you are ashamed of no origin; a thing the more important,
as you prove how little necessary all origin is to happiness, virtue,
or greatness. As no end likewise happens without a means, so we
shall find, sir, that even you yourself framed a plan by which you
became considerable; but at the same time we may see that though
the event is flattering, the means are as simple as wisdom could
make them; that is, depending upon nature, virtue, thought and
habit. Another thing demonstrated will be the propriety of everyman's
waiting for his time for appearing upon the stage of the world.
Our sensations being very much fixed to the moment, we are apt to
forget that more moments are to follow the first, and consequently
that man should arrange his conduct so as to suit the whole of a life.
Your attribution appears to have been applied to your life, and the
passing moments of it have been enlivened with content and enjoyment
instead of being tormented with foolish impatience or regrets.
Such a conduct is easy for those who make virtue and themselves
in countenance by examples of other truly great men, of whom
patience is so often the characteristic. Your Quaker correspondent,
sir (for here again I will suppose the subject of my letter resembling
Dr. Franklin), praised your frugality, diligence and temperance,
which he considered as a pattern for all youth; but it is singular
that he should have forgotten your modesty and your disinterestedness,
without which you never could have waited for your advancement,
or found your situation in the mean time comfortable; which is
a strong lesson to show the poverty of glory and the importance
of regulating our minds. If this correspondent had known the nature
of your reputation as well as I do, he would have said, Your former
writings and measures would secure attention to your Biography,
and Art of Virtue; and your Biography and Art of Virtue, in return,
would secure attention to them. This is an advantage attendant upon
a various character, and which brings all that belongs to it into
greater play; and it is the more useful, as perhaps more persons
are at a loss for the means of improving their minds and characters,
than they are for the time or the inclination to do it. But there
is one concluding reflection, sir, that will shew the use of your life
as a mere piece of biography. This style of writing seems a little
gone out of vogue, and yet it is a very useful one; and your specimen
of it may be particularly serviceable, as it will make a subject of
comparison with the lives of various public cutthroats and intriguers,
and with absurd monastic self-tormentors or vain literary triflers.
If it encourages more writings of the same kind with your own,
and induces more men to spend lives fit to be written, it will be
worth all Plutarch's Lives put together. But being tired of figuring
to myself a character of which every feature suits only one man in
the world, without giving him the praise of it, I shall end my letter,
my dear Dr. Franklin, with a personal application to your proper self.
I am earnestly desirous, then, my dear sir, that you should let the
world into the traits of your genuine character, as civil broils nay
otherwise tend to disguise or traduce it. Considering your great age,
the caution of your character, and your peculiar style of thinking,
it is not likely that any one besides yourself can be sufficiently
master of the facts of your life, or the intentions of your mind.
Besides all this, the immense revolution of the present period,
will necessarily turn our attention towards the author of it,
and when virtuous principles have been pretended in it, it will be
highly important to shew that such have really influenced; and, as your
own character will be the principal one to receive a scrutiny,
it is proper (even for its effects upon your vast and rising country,
as well as upon England and upon Europe) that it should stand
respectable and eternal. For the furtherance of human happiness,
I have always maintained that it is necessary to prove that
man is not even at present a vicious and detestable animal;
and still more to prove that good management may greatly amend him;
and it is for much the same reason, that I am anxious to see
the opinion established, that there are fair characters existing
among the individuals of the race; for the moment that all men,
without exception, shall be conceived abandoned, good people will
cease efforts deemed to be hopeless, and perhaps think of taking
their share in the scramble of life, or at least of making it
comfortable principally for themselves. Take then, my dear sir,
this work most speedily into hand: shew yourself good as you are good;
temperate as you are temperate; and above all things, prove yourself
as one, who from your infancy have loved justice, liberty and concord,
in a way that has made it natural and consistent for you to have acted,
as we have seen you act in the last seventeen years of your life.
Let Englishmen be made not only to respect, but even to love you.
When they think well of individuals in your native country,
they will go nearer to thinking well of your country; and when your
countrymen see themselves well thought of by Englishmen, they will go
nearer to thinking well of England. Extend your views even further;
do not stop at those who speak the English tongue, but after having
settled so many points in nature and politics, think of bettering
the whole race of men. As I have not read any part of the life
in question, but know only the character that lived it, I write
somewhat at hazard. I am sure, however, that the life and the treatise
I allude to (on the Art of Virtue) will necessarily fulfil the chief
of my expectations; and still more so if you take up the measure
of suiting these performances to the several views above stated.
Should they even prove unsuccessful in all that a sanguine admirer
of yours hopes from them, you will at least have framed pieces
to interest the human mind; and whoever gives a feeling of pleasure
that is innocent to man, has added so much to the fair side of a life
otherwise too much darkened by anxiety and too much injured by pain.
In the hope, therefore, that you will listen to the prayer addressed
to you in this letter, I beg to subscribe myself, my dearest sir,
etc., etc.,