Chapter II: Franklin as a Man of Business (2)

Franklin did have all that disagreeable work to do over again, for it was of a pleuritic abscess that he died in the end. Of Mr. Denham we cannot take our leave without drawing upon the _Autobiography_ for an incident which shows that he was one of the many good men whose friendship was given so generously to Franklin. He was at one time a merchant at Bristol, and failed in business. After compounding with his numerous creditors, he migrated to America where he made a fortune in a few years. While he was in England with Benjamin, he invited his former creditors to an entertainment, and, when they were all seated, thanked them for the easy terms on which they had compromised their claims against him. Duly thanked, they supposed that there was nothing in store for them but the ordinary hospitality of such an occasion, but, when each turned his plate over, he found under it an order upon a banker for the full amount, with interest, of the unpaid balance of the debt that he had released.

At the time of Mr. Denham's death, Franklin had only recently arrived at the age of twenty-one. Holmes, his brother-in-law, now urged him to return to his trade, and Keimer offered him a liberal yearly wage to take charge of his printing-office, so that he himself might have more time for his stationery business. Franklin had heard a bad character of Keimer in London from Keimer's wife and her friends, and he was reluctant to have anything more to do with him; so much so that he endeavored to secure employment as a merchant's clerk, but, being unable to do so, he closed with Keimer.

I found in his house [says the _Autobiography_] these
hands: Hugh Meredith, a Welsh Pennsilvanian, 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 humour, 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.

George Webb is later described by Franklin as being lively, witty, good-natured and a pleasant companion, but idle, thoughtless, and imprudent to the last degree. While a student at Oxford, he had become possessed with the desire to see London and be a player. Yielding to this impulse, he walked outside of Oxford, hid his gown in a furze bush, and strode on to London where he fell into bad company, spent all his money, pawned his clothes and lacked bread; having failed to secure an opening as a player. While in this situation, he was induced by his necessities to bind himself to go over to America as an indentured servant, and this he did without ever writing a line to his friends to let them know what had become of him. John, the Irishman, soon absconded. With the rest of Keimer's awkward squad, Franklin quickly formed very agreeable relations, all the more so because they had found Keimer incapable of teaching them, but now found that Franklin taught them something daily. By Keimer, too, Franklin was for a time treated with great civility and apparent regard. The selfish reasons for such treatment were patent enough.

Our printing-house [declares the _Autobiography_] 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 warehousman, and everything, and, in short,
quite a fac-totum.

Keimer was simply using Franklin to lick his rough cubs into shape. The value of Franklin's services declined every day as his other hands became more efficient, and, when he paid him his wages for the second quarter, he let him know that he thought that he should submit to a reduction. By degrees, he grew less civil, assumed a more imperious air, became fault-finding and captious, and seemed ready for an outbreak. Nevertheless, Franklin preserved his patience, thinking that Keimer's demeanor was partly due to his embarrassed circumstances. But a very small spark was enough to produce an explosion. Startled one day by a loud noise near the court-house, Franklin put his head out of the window of the printing-office to see what was the matter. Just then, Keimer, who was in the street, looked up and saw him, and called out to him in vociferous and angry tones to mind his business, adding some reproachful words that nettled Franklin the more because they were heard by the whole neighborhood. Keimer made things still worse by coming up into the printing-office and continuing his rebuke. High words passed between the two, and Keimer gave Franklin the quarter's notice to quit, to which he was entitled, saying as he did it that he wished he could give him a shorter one. Franklin replied that the wish was unnecessary, and, taking up his hat, walked out of doors, requesting Meredith, as he left, to take care of some of his things that remained behind him, and to bring them to his lodgings. This Meredith, who had a great regard for Franklin, and regretted very much the thought of being in the printing-office without him, did the evening of the same day, and he availed himself of the opportunity to dissuade Franklin from returning to New England. Keimer, he said, was in debt for all that he possessed, his creditors were beginning to be uneasy, and he managed his shop wretchedly, often selling without profit for ready money, and frequently giving credit without keeping an account. He must, therefore, fail, which would make an opening for Franklin. To this reasoning Franklin objected his want of means. Meredith then informed him that his father had a high opinion of him, and, from some things, that his father had said to him, he was sure that, if Franklin would enter into a partnership with him, the elder Meredith would advance enough money to set them going in business. His time with Keimer, he further said, would be out in the spring. Before then, they might procure their press and type from London. "I am sensible," added Meredith, "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."

Franklin acceded to the proposal, and Meredith's father ratified it all the more willingly as he saw that Franklin had a great deal of influence with his son, had prevailed on him to abstain from dram-drinking for long periods of time, and might be able to induce him to give up the miserable habit entirely when they came to form the close relations of partners with each other. An inventory of what was needed for the business was accordingly given to the father; an order for it was placed by him in the hands of a merchant; and the things were sent for. Until they arrived, the partnership was to be kept secret, and Franklin was to seek employment from Bradford. Bradford, however, was not in need of a hand, and for some days Franklin was condemned to idleness. But opportunely enough the chance presented itself to Keimer just at this time of being employed to print some paper money for the Province of New Jersey which would require cuts and type that nobody but Franklin was clever enough to execute or make. Fearing that Bradford might employ him, and secure the work, Keimer sent Franklin word that old friends should not be estranged by a few passionate words, and that he hoped Franklin would return to him. Influenced by the desire of Meredith to derive still further benefit from his instruction, Franklin did return to Keimer, and entered upon relations with him that proved more satisfactory than any that he had had with him for some time past. Keimer secured the New Jersey contract.

The New Jersey jobb was obtain'd [the _Autobiography_
states], 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.

One of the attractive things about the youth of Franklin is the extent to which his love of reading and intellectual superiority gave him a standing with distinguished or prominent men much older than himself. In the case of Sir William Keith, the standing produced nothing but deception and disappointment, but, in the case of Cotton Mather, it supplied Franklin with one of those moral lessons for which his mind had such an eager appetency.

The last time I saw your father [he wrote late in life
to Samuel Mather, the son of Cotton] was in the
beginning of 1724, when I visited him after my first
trip to Pennsylvania. He received me in his library,
and on my taking leave showed me a shorter way out of
the house through a narrow passage, which was crossed
by a beam overhead. We were still talking as I
withdrew, he accompanying me behind, and I turning
partly toward him, when he said hastily, _Stoop,
stoop!_ I did not understand him, till I felt my head
hit against the beam. He was a man that never missed
any occasion of giving instruction, and upon this he
said to me, "_You are young, and have the world before
you_; STOOP _as you go through it, and you will miss
many hard thumps_." This advice, thus beat into my
head, has frequently been of use to me; and I often
think of it, when I see pride mortified, and misfortune
brought upon people by their carrying their heads too
high.

Gov. William Burnet, of New York, the son of the famous English Bishop of that name, was another conspicuous personage to whose friendly notice the youth was brought. Shortly after the apt admonition of Cotton Mather, when Franklin was on his return to Philadelphia, the Governor heard from the captain of the vessel, by which Franklin had been conveyed to New York, that a young man, one of his passengers, had a great many books with him, and asked the captain to bring this young man to see him. The Governor loved books and lovers of books.

I waited upon him accordingly [says Franklin] and
should have taken Collins with me but that he was not
sober. The gov'r. treated me with great civility,
show'd me his library, which was a very large one, and
we had a good deal of conversation about books and
authors. This was the second governor who had done me
the honour to take notice of me; which, to a poor boy
like me, was very pleasing.

The happy consequences to Ralph and himself of the respect, shown him by Col. French at New Castle, and the lasting sense of gratitude that he soon afterwards excited in Andrew Hamilton have just been mentioned. This capacity for arresting the attention of men of years and influence now made its mark in New Jersey. Some of the principal men of the province were appointed by the Assembly to oversee the working of Keimer's press, and to take care that no more bills were printed than were authorized by law. They discharged this duty by turns, and usually each one, when he came, brought a friend or so with him for company. In this way, Franklin was introduced to a considerable group of persons who invited him to their houses, introduced him to their friends, and showed him much attention. Keimer, on the other hand, perhaps, Franklin surmises, because his mind had not been so much improved by reading as his, was a little neglected, though the master. The explanation given by Franklin for this neglect would seem a rather inadequate one when we recollect that in the same context he sums up the character of Keimer in these trenchant words: "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." Like St. Sebastian, poor Keimer will never be drawn without that arrow in his side.

For three months Franklin remained at Burlington, making printer's ink money. At the end of that time, he could reckon among his friends Judge Allen, Samuel Bustill, the Secretary of the Province, Isaac Pearson, Joseph Cooper, and several of the Smiths, members of the Assembly, and Isaac Decow, the surveyor-general.

The latter [he says] was a shrewd, sagacious old man,
who told me that he began for himself, when young, by
wheeling clay, for the brickmakers, 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 his
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.

Shortly after the completion of the New Jersey contract, the new type, which had been ordered for Franklin and Meredith from London, arrived at Philadelphia. With Keimer's consent, the two friends left him before he knew of its arrival. They rented a house near the market, and, to reduce the rent of twenty-four pounds a year, they sublet a part of it to Thomas Godfrey, who was to board them. They had scarcely made ready for business when George House, an acquaintance of Franklin, brought to them a countryman who had inquired of him on the street where he could find a printer. By this countryman the firm was paid for the work that he gave them the sum of five shillings, and this sum, Franklin declares in the _Autobiography_, being their first fruits, and coming in at a time when they had expended all their available cash in preparing for business, awakened more pleasure in him than any crown that he had ever since earned, and, besides, made him prompter than he, perhaps, would otherwise have been to help beginners. Whether there were any "boomers," to use the cant term of to-day, in Philadelphia at that time the _Autobiography_ does not tell us, but there was, to use another cant term of to-day, at least one "knocker."

There are croakers in every country [says Franklin in
the _Autobiography_] 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.

The outlook of Franklin was a cheerful, optimistic one, and he had no sympathy with pessimists of any sort. Even his civic interests came back to him in personal profit, since, aside from its public aims, the Junto was a most useful aid to the business of Franklin and Meredith. All its members made a point of soliciting patronage for the new printing firm. Breintnal, for instance, obtained for it the privilege of printing forty sheets of the history which the Quakers published of their sect; the rest having gone to Keimer. The price was low, and the job cost Franklin and Meredith much hard labor. The work, Franklin tells us, with the fond minuteness with which a man is disposed to dwell upon the events of his early life, was a folio, of _pro patria_ size, and in pica, with long primer notes. Franklin composed it at the rate of a sheet a day, and Meredith ran off what was composed at the press. It was often eleven at night and later, when Franklin had completed his distribution for the work of the next day, for now and then he was set back by other business calls. So resolved, however, was he never to default on his sheet a day that one night, when one of his forms was accidentally broken up, and two pages of his work reduced to pi, he immediately distributed and composed it over again before he went to bed, though he had supposed, when the accident occurred, that a hard day's task had ended. This industry brought the firm into favorable notice, and especially was Franklin gratified by what Dr. Baird had to say about it. When the new printing-office was mentioned at the Merchants' Every Night Club, and the opinion was generally expressed that three printing-offices could not be maintained in Philadelphia, he took issue with this view; "For the industry of that Franklin," he said, "is superior to anything 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 statement led one of the persons who heard it to offer to furnish the new firm with stationery; but it was not yet ready to open a stationery shop.

About this time, George Webb, who had bought his time of Keimer, with the aid of one of his female friends, solicited from the firm employment as a journeyman. Its situation was not such as to warrant his employment, but Franklin indiscreetly let him know as a secret that he expected to establish a newspaper soon; when he might have work for him. Bradford's newspaper, _The American Mercury_, he told Webb, was a paltry thing, stupid and wretchedly managed, and yet was profitable. "Three can keep a Secret if two are dead," is a saying of Poor Richard. It would have been well if Franklin on this occasion had been mindful of the wisdom in which it was conceived. He requested Webb not to mention what he said; but, as is often true under such circumstances, it would have been more prudent for him to have asked him to mention it. Webb did tell Keimer, and he immediately published the prospectus of a newspaper on which Webb was to be employed. This was resented by Franklin, and, to counteract the scheme, he and his friend Breintnal wrote some clever little essays for Bradford's newspaper under the title of the "Busy Body." In that dull sheet, they were, to borrow Shakespeare's image, like bright metal on sullen ground. Public attention was fixed upon them, and Keimer's prospectus was overlooked. He founded his newspaper nevertheless, and conducted it for nine months under the prolix name of the _Universal Instructor in all Arts and Sciences and Pennsylvania Gazette_. It never had, at any time, more than ninety subscribers, and, at the end of the nine months, in 1729, Franklin, who had for some time had his arms extended to catch it when it fell, bought it at a trifling price. Under his ownership, the cumbrous name of the paper was cut down simply to that of the _Pennsylvania Gazette_, and the absurd plan formed by Keimer of publishing an instalment of Chambers' Universal Dictionary of all the Arts and Sciences in every issue was abandoned for a strain of original comment and unctuous humor which made the _Gazette_ in popularity second only to _Poor Richard's Almanac_. Under Franklin's hands, the paper assumed from the beginning a better typographical appearance than any previously known to the Province, and some spirited observations by him on a controversy between Governor Burnet and the Massachusetts Assembly, which called into play his aversion to political tyranny, aroused so much public attention that all the leading citizens of the Province became subscribers. Many other subscribers followed in their train, and the subscriptions went on continually increasing until in a few years, to quote Franklin's own words, the _Gazette_ proved extremely profitable to him.

This was one of the first good effects of my having
learnt a little to scribble [he tells us], 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 these friends, was the grateful Andrew Hamilton.

The young printer had pushed himself forward successfully enough to make his competition keenly felt by both Keimer and Bradford. But now unexpectedly, when all the omens were so fair, he found himself on the brink of ruin. For some time past, he had faithfully observed his obligations to Meredith, though his friends lamented his connection with him. Meredith was no compositor, and but a poor pressman, and, if he had been the best compositor or pressman in the world, he would have been a poor partner, for he was seldom sober. While Franklin was bearing him along on his back as well as he could, Meredith's father found himself unable to advance for the firm the second instalment of one hundred pounds, necessary to complete the payment for its printing outfit. The result was that the merchant, who had sold it to the firm, grew impatient, and sued them all. They gave bail, but realized that, if the money could not be raised in time, judgment and execution would follow, and that the outfit would be sold at half price. Then it was, to recall the simple and affecting words of Franklin himself in the _Autobiography_, that two true friends, William Coleman and Robert Grace, whose kindness he had never forgotten, and never would forget, while he could remember anything, came to him separately, unknown to each other, and, without any application from him, each offered to advance to him all the money that should be necessary to enable him to acquire the whole business of the firm, if that should be practicable.[8] They did not like the idea of his continuing to be a partner of Meredith, who, they said, was often seen drunk in the streets, and playing at low games in alehouses to the discredit of the firm. Distressing, however, as his situation was, Franklin appears to have acted with a high-minded regard to the proprieties of the occasion. He told Coleman and Grace that, so long as there was any prospect that the Merediths might live up to their agreement, he was under too great obligations to them for what they had done, and would do, if they could, to suggest a dissolution of the partnership, but that, if they finally defaulted in the performance of their part of the agreement, and the partnership was dissolved, he would feel at liberty to accept the assistance of his friends.

But he was astute as well as conscientious. After the matter had rested in this position for some time, he said to Meredith:

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.

Franklin agreed to this proposal. It was made the basis of a contract which was immediately signed and sealed. Meredith received the thirty pounds and the saddle, and soon afterwards went off to North Carolina, whence he sent to Franklin the next year two long letters containing the best account of the climate, soil, husbandry and other features of that Province that had been given up to that time. "For in those matters," adds Franklin, with his usual generosity, "he was very judicious. I printed them in the papers, and they gave great satisfaction to the publick."

After the departure of Meredith for North Carolina, Franklin turned to the two friends who had proffered their help. He accepted from each of them, because he would not give an unkind preference to either, one half of the money he needed, paid off the debts of the partnership, advertised its dissolution and went on with the business in his own name. This was on July 14, 1730.

Seasonably for him, there was a loud cry among the people at this time for a more abundant issue of paper money. The wealthier members of the community were all against the proposition. They feared that an addition to the existing paper circulation would depreciate, as it had done in New York, and that the debts due to them would be discharged by payment in a medium worth less than its nominal value. The question was discussed by the Junto, and Franklin argued in favor of the issue; being persuaded that the prosperity of the Province had been very much promoted by a small previous issue of paper money in 1723. He remembered, he says in the _Autobiography_, that, when he first walked about the streets of Philadelphia, eating his roll, most of the houses on Walnut Street, between Second and Front Streets, and many besides, on Chestnut and other streets, were placarded, "To be let"; which made him feel as if the inhabitants of Philadelphia were deserting the town one after the other; whereas at the time of this discussion all the old houses were occupied, and many new ones were in process of construction. Not content with presenting his views on the subject to the Junto, he wrote an anonymous pamphlet on it entitled _The Nature and Necessity of a Paper Currency_. This pamphlet was well received by the common people, he tells us, but met with the disfavor of the rich, because it swelled the clamor for more money. Their opposition, however, for lack of writers, competent to refute its reasoning, languished, and the issue was authorized by the Assembly. Franklin's friends in the house rewarded him for his part in the controversy over it by employing him to print the money. "A very profitable jobb and a great help to me," remarks Franklin complacently in the _Autobiography_, and he adds, "This was another advantage gain'd by my being able to write."

Through the influence of his friend Hamilton, he likewise secured the contract for printing the paper money, issued by the Three Lower Counties on the Delaware. "Another profitable jobb as I then thought it," he says, "small things appearing great to those in small circumstances." Hamilton also procured for him the privilege of printing the laws and legislative proceedings of the Three Lower Counties, and he retained it as long as he remained in the printing business. Now, for the first time, he felt that his position was assured enough for him to open up a small stationery shop, where he sold blanks of all sorts, paper, parchment, chapmen's books and other such wares. The blanks he believed to be "the correctest that ever appear'd among us, being assisted in that by my friend Breintnal." The demands on his printing-office, too, increased to such a degree that he employed a compositor, one Whitemarsh, an excellent workman, whom he had known in London, and undertook the care of an apprentice, a son of the ever-to-be-lamented Aquila Rose. Soon he was prospering to such an extent that he could begin to pay off the debt that he owed on his printing outfit. These are the words in which he himself described his situation at this time:

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 wheel-barrow. 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 meantime, 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.

For some time before Keimer went off to Barbadoes, he had been in the condition of an unsound tree, which still stands but with a dry rot at its heart momentarily presaging its fall. As far back as Issue No. 27 of _The Universal Instructor in all Arts and Sciences_, and _Pennsylvania Gazette_, he had found it necessary to explain a week's delay in the publication of that issue by stating to the public that he had been awakened, when fast asleep in bed, about eleven at night, over-tired with the labor of the day, and taken away from his dwelling by a writ and summons; it being basely and confidently given out that he was that very night about to run away, though there was not the least color or ground for such a vile report. He was, he further declared, "the shuttlecock of fortune ... the very but for villany to shoot at, or the continued mark for slander and her imps to spit their venom upon." It was remarkable, he thought, that

a person of strict sincerity, refin'd justice, and
universal love to the whole creation, should for a
series of near twenty years, be the constant but of
slander, as to be three times ruin'd as a
master-printer, to be nine times in prison, one of
which was six years together, and often reduc'd to the
most wretched circumstances, hunted as a partridge upon
the mountains, and persecuted with the most abominable
lies the devil himself could invent or malice utter.

It was but the old story of the man, who is dizzy, thinking that the whole world is spinning around.

David Harry, Keimer's former apprentice, had also opened a printing-office in Philadelphia. When his enterprise was in its inception, Franklin regarded his rivalry with much uneasiness on account of his influential connections. He accordingly proposed a partnership to him, a proposal which, fortunately for the former, was disdainfully refused. "He was very proud," says Franklin, "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." The result was that Harry had to follow Keimer to Barbadoes, taking his printing outfit with him. Here the former apprentice employed the former master as a journeyman; they frequently quarrelled with each other; Harry steadily fell behind, and was compelled to sell his type, and to return to his country work in Pennsylvania. The purchaser of the outfit employed Keimer to operate it, but, in a few years more, Keimer was transported by death out of the world, which for a considerable part of his life he had seen only through the gratings of a jail.

The departure of Harry left Franklin without any competitor except his old one, Bradford, who was too rich and easy-going to actively push for business. But, in one respect, Bradford was a formidable rival. He was the Postmaster at Philadelphia, and his newspaper flourished at the expense of the _Gazette_ upon the public impression that his connection with the Post-office gave him facilities for gathering news and for circulating advertisements that Franklin did not enjoy.

To this period belong Franklin's treaty for a wife with enough means to discharge the balance of one hundred pounds still due on his printing outfit, and his final recoil to Deborah whose industry and frugality were far more than the pecuniary equivalent of one hundred pounds. After his marriage, he was, if anything, even more industrious than before, and this is what he has to say about his habits and employments during the period that immediately followed that event:

Reading was the only amusement I allow'd myself. I
spent no time in taverns, games, or frolicks of any
kind; and my industry in my business continu'd as
indefatigable as it was necessary. I was indebted for
my printing-house; I had a young family coming on to be
educated, and I had to contend with for business two
printers, who were established in the place before me.
My circumstances, however, grew daily easier. My
original habits of frugality continuing, and my father
having among his instructions to me when a boy,
frequently repeated a proverb of Solomon, "Seest thou a
man diligent in his calling, he shall stand before
kings, he shall not stand before mean men," I from
thence considered industry as a means of obtaining
wealth and distinction, which encourag'd me, tho' I did
not think that I should ever literally _stand before_
kings, which, however, has since happened; for I have
stood before _five_, and even had the honour of sitting
down with one, the King of Denmark, to dinner.

Another passage in the _Autobiography_ tells us just what degree of frugality Franklin and Deborah practiced at this stage of his business career.

We kept no idle servants [he says], our table was plain
and simple, our furniture of the cheapest. For
instance, my breakfast was a long time bread and milk
(no tea), and I ate it out of a twopenny earthen
porringer, with a pewter spoon. But mark how luxury
will enter families, and make a progress, in spite of
principle: being call'd one morning to breakfast, I
found it in a China bowl, with a spoon of silver! They
had been bought for me without my knowledge by my wife,
and had cost her the enormous sum of three-and-twenty
shillings, for which she had no other excuse or apology
to make, but that she thought _her_ husband deserv'd a
silver spoon and China bowl as well as any of his
neighbors. This was the first appearance of plate and
China in our house, which afterward, in a course of
years, as our wealth increased, augmented gradually to
several hundred pounds in value.

In 1732 was first published, at fivepence a copy, Franklin's famous almanac known as _Poor Richard's Almanac_, which for twenty-five years warmed the homes of Pennsylvania with the ruddy glow of its wit, humor and wisdom. His endeavor in conducting it he tells us was to make it both entertaining and useful, and he was so successful that he reaped considerable profit from the nearly ten thousand copies of it that he annually sold. Hundreds of the inhabitants of Pennsylvania, who read nothing else, read the _Almanac_. Its infectious humor, its coarse pleasantry, its proverbs and sayings so much wiser than the wisdom, and so much wittier than the wit of any single individual, made the name of Franklin a common household word from one end of Pennsylvania to another, and, when finally strained off into Father Abraham's speech, established his reputation as a kindly humorist and moral teacher throughout the world.

In somewhat the same spirit of instruction as well as entertainment was the _Gazette_, too, conducted.

I considered my newspaper, also [says Franklin], as
another means of communicating instruction, and in that
view frequently reprinted in it extracts from the
_Spectator_, and other moral writers; and sometimes
publish'd little pieces of my own, which had been first
compos'd for reading in our Junto.

The caution exercised by the _Gazette_ in shutting out malice and personal abuse from its columns is the subject of one of the weightiest series of statements in the _Autobiography_.

In the conduct of my newspaper [Franklin declares] I
carefully excluded all libelling and personal abuse,
which is of late years become so disgraceful to our
country. Whenever I was solicited to insert anything
of that kind, and the writers pleaded, as they
generally did, the liberty of the press, and that a
newspaper was like a stage-coach, in which any one who
would pay had a right to a place, my answer was, that I
would print the piece separately if desired, and the
author might have as many copies as he pleased to
distribute himself, but that I would not take upon me
to spread his detraction; and that, having contracted
with my subscribers to furnish them with what might be
either useful or entertaining, I could not fill their
papers with private altercation, in which they had no
concern, without doing them manifest injustice. Now,
many of our printers make no scruple of gratifying the
malice of individuals by false accusations of the
fairest characters among ourselves, augmenting
animosity even to the producing of duels; and are,
moreover, so indiscreet as to print scurrilous
reflections on the government of neighboring states,
and even on the conduct of our best national allies,
which may be attended with the most pernicious
consequences. These things I mention as a caution to
young printers, and that they may be encouraged not to
pollute their presses and disgrace their profession by
such infamous practices, but refuse steadily, as they
may see by my example that such a course of conduct
will not, on the whole, be injurious to their
interests.

By 1733 Franklin was sufficiently established in business to branch out still more. That year he sent one of his journeymen, Thomas Whitemarsh, to Charleston, South Carolina, where a printer was needed, under an agreement of partnership which was the prototype of most of the subsequent articles of copartnership formed by him with other printers under similar conditions; that is to say, he furnished the printing outfit, paid one third of the expenses, and received one third of the profits. The history of this partner gave Franklin an opportunity to moralize a little in the _Autobiography_ upon the importance of a knowledge of accounts rather than of music or dancing as a part of female education. The Carolina printer was a man of education and honest, but ignorant of accounts, and, though he made occasional remittances, Franklin could never get any account from him, nor any satisfactory statement of the condition of the partnership business. On his death, however, his widow, who had been born and bred in Holland, not only sent Franklin as clear a statement as was possible of the past transactions of the firm, but subsequently rendered him an exact account every quarter with the utmost punctuality, and, besides, managed the business with such success that she reared a family of children decently, and, upon the expiration of the copartnership, purchased the outfit from Franklin, and turned it over to her son.

The success of the Carolina partnership encouraged Franklin to form partnerships with other journeymen of his, and by 1743 he had opened three printing-offices in three different colonies, and proposed to open a fourth, if he could find a suitable person to take charge of it. Others were opened by him later. Among the persons besides Whitemarsh, established by him at different times as printers, under one arrangement or another with himself, were Peter Timothy in South Carolina, Smith and Benjamin Mecom in Antigua, James Parker in New York, his brother in Rhode Island, Hall and Miller and Samuel Holland at Lancaster, and William Daniell at Kingston, Jamaica. Speaking of his partners in the _Autobiography_, he says of them:

Most of them did well, being enabled at the end of our
term, six years, to purchase the types of me and go on
working for themselves, by which means several families
were raised. Partnerships often finish in quarrels; but
I was happy in this, that mine were all carried on and
ended amicably, owing, I think, a good deal to the
precaution of having very explicitly settled, in our
articles, everything to be done by or expected from
each partner, so that there was nothing to dispute,
which precaution I would therefore recommend to all who
enter into partnerships; for, whatever esteem partners
may have for, and confidence in each other at the time
of the contract, little jealousies and disgusts may
arise, with ideas of inequality in the care and burden
of the business, etc., which are attended often with
breach of friendship and of the connection, perhaps
with lawsuits and other disagreeable consequences.

Two other business enterprises of Franklin merit notice. He was the founder of the first newspaper in the United States to be published in a foreign tongue, namely, the _Philadelphische Zeitung_, which owed its origin to the large number of Germans who came over to Pennsylvania during the Colonial Period. He was also the founder of a monthly literary magazine which for some reason he does not mention in the _Autobiography_ at all. It was the second enterprise of the kind undertaken in America, and was known as _The General Magazine and Historical Chronicle for All the British Plantations in America_. To Franklin as a business man might aptly be applied the words of Emerson with respect to Guy:

Stream could not so perversely wind
But corn of Guy's was there to grind.

One exception, however, appears to have been this magazine which lasted but a short time. It was ill-starred from the start. When Franklin was ready to spring it upon the public, he engaged John Webbe as its editor, but Webbe betrayed the project to Bradford, who at once announced that, a little later, a magazine would be offered to the public edited by Webbe, and published by himself. When the first number of Franklin's magazine came out, he stated that its publication was earlier than he had intended because of the faithless conduct of Webbe. This Webbe resented by charging Franklin, who was then Postmaster at Philadelphia, with shutting out Bradford's _Mercury_ from the post, but Franklin silenced his fire by stating and proving that he had had no choice in the matter, because he had been commanded by Postmaster-General Spottswood, on account of Bradford's failure as Postmaster at Philadelphia to account with him, to suffer no longer any of his newspapers or letters to be conveyed by post free of charge.

The business of Franklin received another push forward with the political consequence which he acquired through the _Gazette_ and the influence of the Junto. In 1736, he was chosen Clerk of the General Assembly, and in the succeeding year he was appointed Postmaster at Philadelphia, in the place of Bradford, by Alexander Spottswood, who had been Governor of Virginia, and was then the Deputy Postmaster-General for America. The salary of the Postmastership was small, but, for the purposes of the _Gazette_, the office gave him the same advantage that Bradford had enjoyed, when he refused to allow that newspaper to be carried by his post-riders. The positions of the two men were now reversed, but Franklin was too magnanimous to remind Bradford, sternly, as he did Jemmy Read, that Fortune's Wheel is ever turning. "My old competitor's newspaper," he says, "declined proportionably, and I was satisfy'd without retaliating his refusal, while postmaster, to permit my papers being carried by the riders." Bradford had suffered, Franklin adds, "for his neglect in due accounting." And this gave him occasion to observe that regularity and clearness in rendering accounts and punctuality in making remittances are "the most powerful of all recommendations to new employments and increase of business."

The office of Clerk of the Assembly also had its business value.

Besides the pay for the immediate service as clerk
[Franklin says] the place gave me a better opportunity
of keeping up an interest among the members, which
secur'd to me the business of printing the votes,
laws, paper money, and other occasional jobbs for the
public, that, on the whole, were very profitable.

The first year that he came up for election the vote in his favor was unanimous, but the next year, while he was elected, it was only after a new member had made a long speech against him in the interest of another candidate. How Franklin conciliated the unfriendliness of this member is fully told in the _Autobiography_;

I therefore did not like the opposition of this new
member, who was a gentleman of fortune and education,
with talents that were likely to give him, in time,
great influence in the House, which, indeed, afterwards
happened. I did not, however, aim at gaining his favour
by paying any servile respect to him, but, after some
time, took this other method. Having heard that he had
in his library a certain very scarce and curious book,
I wrote a note to him, expressing my desire of perusing
that book, and requesting he would do me the favour of
lending it to me for a few days. He sent it
immediately, and I return'd it in about a week with
another note, expressing strongly my sense of the
favour. When we next met in the House, he spoke to me
(which he had never done before), and with great
civility; and he ever after manifested a readiness to
serve me on all occasions, so that we became great
friends, and our friendship continued to his death.
This is another instance of the truth of an old maxim I
had learned, which says, "_He that has once done you a
kindness will be more ready to do you another, than he
whom you yourself have obliged._" And it shows how much
more profitable it is prudently to remove, than to
resent, return, and continue inimical proceedings.

The artifice practised by Franklin on this occasion has been condemned. What he really did, of course, was to use gratified vanity as a foil to mortified vanity. The possible consequences of the new member's hostility were too serious for him to say as Washington was in the habit of saying when he had a bad cold: "Let it go as it came." He knew that the malice was as shallow as the good will; and the alternatives were resentment, sycophancy, or a little subtlety. Under the circumstances, Franklin would not have been Franklin, if he had not elected subtlety.

Nothing was now wanting to the full development of his business career except the repetition in other communities of the success that had crowned his personal exertions in Pennsylvania. Referring to the state of his business at this time, he says in the _Autobiography_;

My business was now continually augmenting, and my
circumstances growing daily easier, my newspaper having
become very profitable, as being for a time almost the
only one in this and the neighboring provinces. I
experienced, too, the truth of the observation, "_that
after getting the first hundred pound, it is more easy
to get the second_," money itself being of a prolific
nature.

The outcome of it all was that, in the year 1748, at the age of forty-two, he flattered himself, to repeat his own language, that, by the sufficient, though moderate, fortune which he had acquired, he had secured leisure during the rest of his life for philosophical studies and amusements.

The plan that he formed for securing this leisure, which he turned to such fruitful, purposes, was marked by his usual good judgment. In 1744, he had taken into his employment David Hall, a Scotch journeyman, and a friend of Strahan. He now admitted Hall to partnership with him. "A very able, industrious, and honest partner, Mr. David Hall, with whose character I was well acquainted, as he had work'd for me for four years," are the terms in which he speaks of Hall in the _Autobiography_. "He took off my hands," he continues, "all care of the printing-office, paying me punctually my share of the profits. The partnership continued eighteen years, successfully for us both." Under the provisions of the partnership agreement, Hall was to carry on the printing and publishing business of Franklin in his own way, but in the firm name of Franklin and Hall, and Hall was to pay to Franklin a thousand pounds a year for eighteen years; at the end of which period Hall was to become the sole proprietor of the business.[9] Exactly what income Franklin was deriving from his printing and publishing business at the time that this agreement was entered into is not known, but reasonable conjecture has placed it at something like two thousand pounds a year. At that time he was also the owner of a considerable amount of property, representing invested returns from his business in the past. The _Gazette_ continued to be published until the year 1821. When the term of eighteen years, during which the partnership was to last, expired in 1766, the profits had been over twelve thousand pounds, Pennsylvania currency, from subscriptions, and over four thousand pounds, Pennsylvania currency, from advertisements. Judged by the standards of the time and place, it was an extraordinary degree of success which had enabled Franklin in some twenty years to establish so lucrative a business as that which he handed over to the management of Hall in 1748, and few indeed have been the men in mercantile history, who have been willing, after so long a period of prosperous addiction to gain, to turn away to purely intellectual and unremunerative pursuits from such a prospect of increasing self-enrichment as that renounced by Franklin when he wrote to Cadwallader Colden that he, too, was taking the proper measures for obtaining leisure to enjoy life and his friends more than in the past; having put his printing-house under the care of his partner, David Hall, absolutely left off book-selling, and removed to a more quiet part of the town, where he was settling his old accounts, and hoped soon to be quite master of his own time, and no longer, as the song had it, at everyone's call but his own. Nobody knew better than he that, if, after getting the first hundred pounds, it is easier to get the second, it is still easier, after getting the second hundred pounds, to get the third.