The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin edited by Charles Eliotpresented by Project GutenbergThis eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever. Benjamin Franklin was born in Milk Street,Boston, on January 6, 1706.His father, Josiah Franklin, was a tallow chandler who married twice,and of his seventeen children Benjamin was the youngest son. Hisschooling ended at ten, and at twelve he was bound apprentice to hisbrother James, a printer, who published the 'New England Courant.' Tothis journal he became a contributor, and later was for a time itsnominal editor.
But the brothers quarreled, and Benjamin ran away,going first to New York, and thence to Philadelphia, where he arrivedin October, 1723. He soon obtained work as a printer, but after a fewmonths he was induced by Governor Keith to go to London, where, findingKeith's promises empty, he again worked as a compositor till he wasbrought back to Philadelphia by a merchant named Denman, who gave hima position in his business. On Denman's death he returned to his formertrade, and shortly set up a printing house of his own from which hepublished 'The Pennsylvania Gazette,' to which he contributed manyessays, and which he made a medium for agitating a variety of localreforms. In 1732 he began to issue his famous 'Poor Richard's Almanac'for the enrichment of which he borrowed or composed those pithyutterances of worldly wisdom which are the basis of a large part of hispopular reputation. In 1758, the year in which he ceased writing forthe Almanac, he printed in it 'Father Abraham's Sermon,' now regardedas the most famous piece of literature produced in Colonial America.Meantime Franklin was concerning himself more and more with publicaffairs. He set forth a scheme for an Academy, which was taken uplater and finally developed into the University of Pennsylvania; and hefounded an 'American Philosophical Society' for the purpose of enablingscientific men to communicate their discoveries to one another.
Hehimself had already begun his electrical researches, which, with otherscientific inquiries, he carried on in the intervals of money-making andpolitics to the end of his life. In 1748 he sold his business in orderto get leisure for study, having now acquired comparative wealth; andin a few years he had made discoveries that gave him a reputation withthe learned throughout Europe. Inpolitics he proved very able both asan administrator and as a controversialist; but his record as anoffice-holder is stained by the use he made of his position to advancehis relatives.
His most notable service in home politics was hisreform of the postal system; but his fame as a statesman rests chieflyon his services in connection with the relations of the Colonies withGreat Britain, and later with France. In 1757 he was sent to Englandto protest against the influence of the Penns in the government of thecolony, and for five years he remained there, striving to enlighten thepeople and the ministry of England as to Colonial conditions. On hisreturn to America he played an honorable part in the Paxton affair,through which he lost his seat in the Assembly; but in 1764 he wasagain despatched to England as agent for the colony, this time topetition the King to resume the government from the hands of theproprietors.
In London he actively opposed the proposed Stamp Act, butlost the credit for this and much of his popularity through hissecuring for a friend the office of stamp agent in America. Even hiseffective work in helping to obtain the repeal of the act left himstill a suspect; but he continued his efforts to present the case forthe Colonies as the troubles thickened toward the crisis of theRevolution. In 1767 he crossed to France, where he was received withhonor; but before his return home in 1775 he lost his position aspostmaster through his share in divulging to Massachusetts the famousletter of Hutchinson and Oliver. On his arrival in Philadelphia he waschosen a member of the Continental Congress, and in 1777 he wasdespatched to France as commissioner for the United States.
Here heremained till 1785, the favorite of French society; and with suchsuccess did he conduct the affairs of his country that when he finallyreturned he received a place only second to that of Washington as thechampion of American independence. He died on April 17, 1790.The first five chapters of the Autobiography were composed in Englandin 1771, continued in 1784-5, and again in 1788, at which date hebrought it down to 1757.
After a most extraordinary series ofadventures, the original form of the manuscript was finally printed byMr. John Bigelow, and is here reproduced in recognition of its value asa picture of one of the most notable personalities of Colonial times,and of its acknowledged rank as one of the great autobiographies of theworld.
BENJAMIN FRANKLINHIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY1706-1757Twyford, at the Bishop of St. Asaph's,1 1771.Dear Son:I have ever had pleasure in obtaining any little anecdotesof my ancestors. You may remember the inquiries I made among theremains of my relations when you were with me in England, and thejourney I undertook for that purpose. Imagining it may be equallyagreeable to2you to know the circumstances of my life, many of whichyou are yet unacquainted with, and expecting the enjoyment of a week'suninterrupted leisure in my present country retirement, I sit down towrite them for you.
To which I have besides some other inducements.Having emerged from the poverty and obscurity in which I was born andbred, to a state of affluence and some degree of reputation in theworld, and having gone so far through life with a considerable share offelicity, the conducing means I made use of, which with the blessing ofGod so well succeeded, my posterity may like to know, as they may findsome of them suitable to their own situations, and therefore fit to beimitated. 1The country-seat of Bishop Shipley, the good bishop,as Dr. Franklin used to style him.—B.2After the words 'agreeable to' the words 'some of' wereinterlined and afterward effaced.—B.That felicity, when I reflected on it, has induced me sometimes to say,that were it offered to my choice, I should have no objection to arepetition of the same life from its beginning, only asking theadvantages authors have in a second edition to correct some faults ofthe first. So I might,besides correcting the faults, change somesinister accidents and events of it for others more favorable.
Butthough this were denied, I should still accept the offer. Since such arepetition is not to be expected, the next thing most like living one'slife over again seems to be a recollection of that life, and to makethat recollection as durable as possible by putting it down in writing.Hereby, too, I shall indulge the inclination so natural in old men,to be talking of themselves and their own past actions; and I shallindulge it without being tiresome to others, who, through respect toage, might conceive themselves obliged to give me a hearing, sincethis may be read or not as any one pleases. And, lastly (I may aswell confess it, since my denial of it will be believed by nobody),perhaps I shall a good deal gratify my own vanity.Indeed, I scarce ever heard or saw the introductory words,' Without vanity I may say,' &c., but some vain thingimmediately followed. Most people dislike vanity in others,whatever share they have of it themselves; but I give it fairquarter wherever I meet with it, being persuaded that it is oftenproductive of good to the possessor, and to others that are withinhis sphere of action; and therefore, in many cases, it would not bealtogether absurd if a man were to thank God for his vanity amongthe other comforts of life.And now I speak of thanking God, I desire with all humility toacknowledge that I owe the mentioned happiness of my past life to Hiskind providence, which lead me to the means I used and gave themsuccess. My belief of this induces me to hope, though I must notpresume, that the same goodness will still be exercised toward me, incontinuing that happiness, or enabling me to bear a fatal reverse,which I may experience as others have done: the complexion of myfuture fortune being known to Him only in whose power it is to bless tous even our afflictions.The notes one of my uncles (who had the same kind of curiosity incollecting family anecdotes) once put into my hands, furnished me withseveral particulars relating to our ancestors. From these notes Ilearned that the family had lived in the same village, Ecton, inNorthamptonshire, forthree hundred years, and how much longer he knewnot (perhaps from the time when the name of Franklin, that before wasthe name of an order of people, was assumed by them as a surname whenothers took surnames all over the kingdom), on a freehold of aboutthirty acres, aided by the smith's business, which had continued in thefamily till his time, the eldest son being always bred to thatbusiness; a custom which he and my father followed as to their eldestsons.
When I searched the registers at Ecton, I found an account oftheir births, marriages and burials from the year 1555 only, therebeing no registers kept in that parish at any time preceding. By thatregister I perceived that I was the youngest son of the youngest sonfor five generations back. My grandfather Thomas, who was born in1598, lived at Ecton till he grew too old to follow business longer,when he went to live with his son John, a dyer at Banbury, inOxfordshire, with whom my father served an apprenticeship. There mygrandfather died and lies buried. We saw his gravestone in 1758. Hiseldest son Thomas lived in the house at Ecton, and left it with theland to his only child, a daughter, who, with her husband, one Fisher,of Wellingborough, sold it to Mr.
Isted, now lord of the manor there.My grandfather had four sons that grew up, viz.: Thomas, John, Benjaminand Josiah. ¹ Here follow in the margin the words, in brackets, 'hereinsert it,' but the poetry is not given. Sparksinforms us (Life of Franklin, p. 6) that these volumeshad been preserved, and were in possession of Mrs. Emmons,of Boston, great-grandmother of their author.This obscure family of ours was early in the Reformation, and continuedProtestants through the reign of Queen Mary, when they were sometimesin danger of trouble on account of their zeal against popery. They hadgot an English Bible, and to conceal and secure it, it was fastenedopen with tapes under and within the cover of a joint-stool.
When mygreat-great-grandfather read it to his family, he turned up thejoint-stool upon his knees, turning over the leaves thenunder thetapes. One of the children stood at the door to give notice if he sawthe apparitor coming, who was an officer of the spiritual court. Inthat case the stool was turned down again upon its feet, when the Bibleremained concealed under it as before. This anecdote I had from myuncle Benjamin. The family continued all of the Church of England tillabout the end of Charles the Second's reign, when some of the ministersthat had been outed for nonconformity holding conventicles inNorthamptonshire, Benjamin and Josiah adhered to them, and so continuedall their lives: the rest of the family remained with the EpiscopalChurch.Josiah, my father, married young, and carried his wife with threechildren into New England, about 1682. The conventicles having beenforbidden by law, and frequently disturbed, induced some considerablemen of his acquaintance to remove to that country, and he was prevailedwith to accompany them thither, where they expected to enjoy their modeof religion with freedom. By the same wife he had four children moreborn there, and by a second wife ten more, in all seventeen; of which Iremember thirteen sitting at one time at his table, who all grew up tobe men and women, and married; I was the youngest son, and the youngestchild but two, and was born in Boston, New England.
My mother, thesecond wife, was Abiah Folger, daughter of Peter Folger, one of thefirst settlers of New England, of whom honorable mention is made byCotton Mather, in his church history of that country, entitled MagnaliaChristi Americana, as ' a godly, learned Englishman,' if I remember thewords rightly. I have heard that he wrote sundry small occasionalpieces, but only one of them was printed, which I saw now many yearssince. It was written in 1675, in the home-spun verse of that time andpeople, and addressed to those then concerned in the government there.It was in favor of liberty of conscience, and in behalf of theBaptists, Quakers, and other sectaries that had been under persecution,ascribing the Indian wars, and other distresses that had befallen thecountry, to that persecution, as so many judgments of God to punish soheinous an offense, and exhorting a repeal of those uncharitable laws.The whole appeared to me as written with a good deal of decentplainness and manly freedom. The six concluding lines I remember,though I have forgotten the two first of the stanza; but the purport ofthem was, that his censures proceeded from good-will, and, therefore,he would be known to be the author. 'Immodest words admit but this defense,That want of modesty is want of sense.' This, however, I should submit to better judgments.My brother had, in 1720 or 1721, begun to print a newspaper.
It wasthe second that appeared in America, and was called the New EnglandCourant. The only one before it was the Boston News-Letter. I rememberhis being dissuaded by some of his friends from the undertaking, as notlikely to succeed, one newspaper being, in their judgment, enough forAmerica. At this time (1771) there are not less than five-and-twenty.He went on, however, with the undertaking, and after having worked incomposing the types and printing off the sheets, I was employed tocarry the papers thro' the streets to the customers.He had some ingenious men among his friends, who amus'd themselves bywriting little pieces for this paper, which gain'd it credit and madeit more in demand, and these gentlemen often visited us. Hearing theirconversations, and their accounts of the approbation their papers werereceived with, I was excited to try my hand among them; but, beingstill a boy, and suspecting that my brother would object to printinganything of mine in his paper if he knew it to be mine, I contrived todisguise my hand, and, writing an anonymous paper, I put it in at nightunder the door of the printing-house. It was found in the morning, andcommunicated to his writing friends when they call'd in as usual.
Theyread it, commented on it in my hearing, and I had the exquisitepleasure of finding it met with their approbation, and that, in theirdifferent guesses at the author, none were named but men of somecharacter among us for learning and ingenuity. I suppose now that Iwas rather lucky in my judges, and that perhaps they were not really sovery good ones as I then esteem'd them.Encourag'd, however, by this, I wrote and convey'd in the same way tothe press several more papers which were equally approv'd; and I keptmy secret till my small fund of sense for such performances was prettywell exhausted and then I discovered it, when I began to be considereda little more by my brother's acquaintance, and in a manner that didnot quite please him, as he thought, probablywith reason, that ittended to make me too vain. And, perhaps, this might be one occasionof the differences that we began to have about this time. Though abrother, he considered himself as my master, and me as his apprentice,and accordingly, expected the same services from me as he would fromanother, while I thought he demean'd me too much in some he requir'd ofme, who from a brother expected more indulgence. Our disputes wereoften brought before our father, and I fancy I was either generally inthe right, or else a better pleader, because the judgment was generallyin my favor. But my brother was passionate, and had often beaten me,which I took extreamly amiss; and, thinking my apprenticeship verytedious, I was continually wishing for some opportunity of shorteningit, which at length offered in a manner unexpected.3. 3I fancy his harsh and tyrannical treatment of memight be a means of impressing me with that aversionto arbitrary power that has stuck to me through mywhole life.One of the pieces in our newspaper on some political point, which Ihave now forgotten, gave offense to the Assembly.
He was taken up,censur'd, and imprison'd for a month, by the speaker's warrant, Isuppose, because he would not discover his author. I too was taken upand examin'd before the council; but, tho' I did not give them anysatisfaction, they content'd themselves with admonishing me, anddismissed me, considering me, perhaps, as an apprentice, who was boundto 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 thepaper; and I made bold to give our rulers some rubs in it, which mybrother took very kindly, while others began to consider me in anunfavorable light, as a young genius that had a turn for libelling andsatyr. My brother's discharge was accompany'd with an order of theHouse (a very odd one), that ' James Franklin should no longer print thepaper 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 bychanging the name of the paper; but my brother, seeing inconveniencesin that, it was finally concluded on as a better way, tolet it be printed for the future under the name ofBenjamin Franklin; and toavoid the censure of the Assembly, that might fall on him as stillprinting it by his apprentice, the contrivance was that my oldindenture should be return'd to me, with a full discharge on the backof it, to be shown on occasion, but to secure to him the benefit of myservice, 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, undermy name for several months.At length, a fresh difference arising between my brother and me, I tookupon me to assert my freedom, presuming that he would not venture toproduce the new indentures.
Benjamin Franklin Essays Pdf
It was not fair in me to take thisadvantage, and this I therefore reckon one of the first errata of mylife; but the unfairness of it weighed little with me, when under theimpressions of resentment for the blows his passion too often urged himto 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 gettingemployment in any other printing-house of the town, by going round andspeaking to every master, who accordingly refus'd to give me work. Ithen thought of going to New York, as the nearest place where there wasa printer; and I was rather inclin'd to leave Boston when I reflectedthat I had already made myself a little obnoxious to the governingparty, and, from the arbitrary proceedings of the Assembly in mybrother's case, it was likely I might, if I stay'd, soon bring myselfinto scrapes; and farther, that my indiscrete disputations aboutreligion began to make me pointed at with horror by good people as aninfidel or atheist. I determin'd on the point, but my father nowsiding with my brother, I was sensible that, if I attempted to goopenly, means would be used to prevent me. My friend Collins,therefore, undertook to manage a little for me. He agreed with thecaptain of a New York sloop for my passage, under the notion of mybeing a young acquaintance of his, that had got a naughty girl withchild, whose friends would compel me to marry her,and therefore Icould not appear or come away publicly.
So I sold some of my books toraise a little money, was taken on board privately, and as we had afair wind, in three days I found myself in New York, near 300 milesfrom home, a boy of but 17, without the least recommendation to, orknowledge of any person in the place, and with very little money in mypocket.My inclinations for the sea were by this time worne out, or I might nowhave gratify'd them. But, having a trade, and supposing myself apretty good workman, I offer'd my service to the printer in the place,old Mr. William Bradford, who had been the first printer inPennsylvania, but removed from thence upon the quarrel of George Keith.He could give me no employment, having little to do, and help enoughalready; but says he, 'My son at Philadelphia has lately lost hisprincipal hand, Aquila Rose, by death; if you go thither, I believe hemay employ you.' Philadelphia was a hundred miles further; I set out,however, in a boat for Amboy, leaving my chest and things to follow meround by sea.In crossing the bay, we met with a squall that tore our rotten sails topieces, prevented our getting into the Kill, and drove us upon LongIsland. In our way, a drunken Dutchman, who was a passenger too, felloverboard; when he was sinking, I reached through the water to hisshock pate, and drew him up, so that we got him in again.
His duckingsobered him a little, and he went to sleep, taking first out of hispocket a book, which he desir'd I would dry for him. It proved to bemy old favorite author, Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, in Dutch, finelyprinted on good paper, with copper cuts, a dress better than I had everseen it wear in its own language. I have since found that it has beentranslated into most of the languages of Europe, and suppose it hasbeen more generally read than any other book, except perhaps the Bible.Honest John was the first that I know of who mix'd narration anddialogue; a method of writing very engaging to the reader, who in themost interesting parts finds himself, as it were, brought into thecompany and present at the discourse. De Foe in his Cruso, his MollFlanders, Religious Courtship, FamilyInstructor, and other pieces, has imitated it with success; and Richardsonhas done the same in his Pamela, etc.When we drew near the island, we found it was at a place where therecould be no landing, there being a great surff on the stony beach. Sowe dropt anchor, and swung round towards the shore. Some people camedown to the water edge and hallow'd to us, as we did to them; but thewind was so high, and the surff so loud, that we could not hear so asto understand each other.
There were canoes on the shore, and we madesigns, and hallow'd that they should fetch us; but they either did notunderstand us, or thought it impracticable, so they went away, andnight coming on, we had no remedy but to wait till the wind shouldabate; and, in the meantime, the boatman and I concluded to sleep, ifwe could; and so crowded into the scuttle, with the Dutchman, who wasstill wet, and the spray beating over the head of our boat, leak'dthro' to us, so that we were soon almost as wet as he. 4'A printing-house is always called a chapel by theworkmen, the origin of which appears to have been thatprinting was first carried on in England in an ancientchapel converted into a printing-house, and the titlehas been preserved by tradition. The bien venu amongthe printers answers to the terms entrance and footingamong mechanics; thus a journeyman, on entering aprinting-house, was accustomed to pay one or more gallonsof beer for the good of the chapel; this custom wasfalling into disuse thirty years ago; it is very properlyrejected entirely in the United States.' —W. T. F.My lodging in Little Britain being too remote, I found another inDuke-street, opposite to the Romish Chapel.
It was two pair of stairsbackwards, at an Italian warehouse. A widow lady kept the house; shehad a daughter, and a maid servant, and a journeyman who attended thewarehouse, but lodg'd abroad. After sending to inquire my character atthe house where I last lodg'd she agreed to take me in at the samerate, 3s.
Per week; cheaper, as shesaid, from the protection sheexpected in having a man lodge in the house. She was a widow, anelderly woman; had been bred a Protestant, being a clergyman'sdaughter, but was converted to the Catholic religion by her husband,whose memory she much revered; had lived much among people ofdistinction, and knew a thousand anecdotes of them as far back as thetimes of Charles the Second. She was lame in her knees with the gout,and, therefore, seldom stirred out of her room, so sometimes wantedcompany; and hers was so highly amusing to me, that I was sure to spendan evening with her whenever she desired it. 5The 'Journal' was printed by Sparks, from a copy madeat Reading in 1787. But it does not contain thePlan.— Ed.We landed in Philadelphia on the 11th of October, where I found sundryalterations.
Keith was no longer governor, being superseded by MajorGordon. I met him walking the streets as a common citizen.
He seem'da little asham'd at seeing me, but pass'd without saying anything. Ishould have been as much asham'd at seeing Miss Read, had not herfriends, despairing with reason of my return after the receipt of myletter, persuaded her to marry another, one Rogers, a potter, which wasdone in my absence.
With him, however, she was never happy, and soonparted from him, refusing to cohabit with him or bear his name, itbeing now said that he had another wife. He was a worthless fellow,tho' an excellent workman, which was the temptationto her friends. Hegot into debt, ran away in 1727 or 1728, went to the West Indies, anddied there. Keimer had got a better house, a shop well supply'd withstationery, plenty of new types, a number of hands, tho' none good, andseem'd to have a great deal of business.Mr. Denham took a store in Water-street, where we open'd our goods; Iattended the business diligently, studied accounts, and grew, in alittle time, expert at selling. We lodg'd and boarded together; hecounsell'd me as a father, having a sincere regard for me.
Benjamin Franklin
I respectedand lov'd him, and we might have gone on together very happy; but, inthe beginning of February, 1726-7, when I had just pass'd mytwenty-first year, we both were taken ill. My distemper was apleurisy, which very nearly carried me off. I suffered a good deal,gave up the point in my own mind, and was rather disappointed when Ifound 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 lengthcarried him off. He left me a small legacy in a nuncupative will, as atoken of his kindness for me, and he left me once more to the wideworld; for the store was taken into the care of his executors, and myemployment under him ended.My brother-in-law, Holmes, being now at Philadelphia, advised my returnto my business; and Keimer tempted me, with an offer of large wages bythe year, to come and take the management of his printing-house, thathe might better attend his stationer's shop. I had heard a badcharacter of him in London from his wife and her friends, and was notfond of having any more to do with him. I tri'd for farther employmentas a merchant's clerk; but, not readily meeting with any, I clos'dagain with Keimer.
Benjamin Franklin Isaacson Pdf
I found in his house these hands: Hugh Meredith, aWelsh Pensilvanian, thirty years of age, bred to country work; honest,sensible, had a great deal of solid observation, was something of areader, but given to drink. Stephen Potts, a young countryman of fullage, bred to the same, of uncommon natural parts, and great wit andhumor, but a little idle.
These he had agreed with at extream lowwages per week, to be rais'd a shilling every three months, as theywould deserve by improving intheir business; and the expectation of these high wages, to come onhereafter, was what he had drawn them in with. Meredith was to workat press, Potts at book-binding, which he, by a.