Starting a Business in Philadelphia

We sail'd from Gravesend on the 23rd of July, 1726. For the incidents of the voyage, I refer you to my Journal, where you will find them all minutely related. Perhaps the most important part of that journal is the plan⁵⁰ to be found in it, which I formed at sea, for regulating my future conduct in life. It is the more remarkable, as being formed when I was so young, and yet being pretty faithfully adhered to quite thro' to old age.

We sailed from Gravesend on July 23, 1726. For the events of the voyage, I refer you to my Journal, where they are described in detail. Perhaps the most important part of that journal is the plan⁵⁰ I wrote at sea. It was meant to guide my future conduct in life. This is more remarkable because I formed it when I was so young. Yet I followed it pretty faithfully into old age.

We landed in Philadelphia on the 11th of October, where I found sundry alterations. Keith was no longer governor, being superseded by Major Gordon. I met him walking the streets as a common citizen. He seem'd a little asham'd at seeing me, but pass'd without saying anything. I should have been as much asham'd at seeing Miss Read, had not her friends, despairing with reason of my return after the receipt of my letter, persuaded her to marry another, one Rogers, a potter, which was done in my absence. With him, however, she was never happy, and soon parted from him, refusing to cohabit with him or bear his name, it being now said that he had another wife. He was a worthless fellow, tho' an excellent workman, which was the temptation to her friends. He got into debt, ran away in 1727 or 1728, went to the West Indies, and died there. Keimer had got a better house, a shop well supply'd with stationery, plenty of new types, a number of hands, tho' none good, and seem'd to have a great deal of business.

We landed in Philadelphia on October 11. I found several changes. Keith was no longer governor. Major Gordon had replaced him. I saw Keith walking the streets like an ordinary citizen. He seemed a little ashamed to see me and passed without saying anything. I would have been equally ashamed to meet Miss Read, if her friends had not been reasonably convinced I would not return after receiving my letter. They persuaded her to marry someone else. He was a man named Rogers, a potter. The marriage took place while I was away. She was never happy with him. She soon separated from him and refused to live with him or use his name. People said he already had another wife. He was a worthless man, though a skilled workman. His skill had tempted her friends. He went into debt and ran away in 1727 or 1728. He went to the West Indies and died there. Keimer had a better house by then. He had a shop well supplied with stationery and plenty of new types. He employed several hands, though none were good, and seemed to have a great deal of business.

Mr. Denham took a store in Water-street, where we open'd our goods; I attended the business diligently, studied accounts, and grew, in a little time, expert at selling. We lodg'd and boarded together; he counsell'd me as a father, having a sincere regard for me. I respected and loved him, and we might have gone on together very happy; but, in the beginning of February, 1726/7, when I had just pass'd my twenty-first year, we both were taken ill. My distemper was a pleurisy, which very nearly carried me off. I suffered a good deal, gave up the point in my own mind, and was rather disappointed when I found 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 length carried him off. He left me a small legacy in a nuncupative will, as a token of his kindness for me, and he left me once more to the wide world; for the store was taken into the care of his executors, and my employment under him ended.

Mr. Denham took a store on Water Street, where we unpacked our goods. I attended to the business diligently, studied accounts, and in a short time became expert at selling. We lodged and boarded together. He advised me like a father, having a sincere regard for me. I respected and loved him, and we might have gone on together very happily. But at the beginning of February 1726/7, when I had just turned twenty-one, we both fell ill. My illness was pleurisy, which very nearly killed me. I suffered a good deal, and in my own mind I gave myself up for dead. I was rather disappointed when I found myself recovering. I regretted, in some degree, that sooner or later I would now have to go through all that unpleasant business again. I forget what his illness was. It held him a long time and at last killed him. He left me a small legacy in a nuncupative (spoken) will, as a token of his kindness for me. And he left me once more to the wide world, for the store was taken into the care of his executors, and my employment under him ended.

My brother-in-law, Holmes, being now at Philadelphia, advised my return to my business; and Keimer tempted me, with an offer of large wages by the year, to come and take the management of his printing-house, that he might better attend his stationer's shop. I had heard a bad character of him in London from his wife and her friends, and was not fond of having any more to do with him. I tri'd for farther employment as a merchant's clerk; but, not readily meeting with any, I clos'd again with Keimer. I found in his house these hands: Hugh Meredith, a Welsh Pennsylvanian, 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 humor, 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.

My brother-in-law Holmes was now in Philadelphia. He advised me to return to my business. Keimer tempted me with an offer of high annual wages to come and manage his printing house so he could attend his stationer's shop more. In London I had heard a bad account of Keimer from his wife and her friends, and I did not care to have anything more to do with him. I tried to find further work as a merchant's clerk. Not finding any, I once again accepted Keimer's offer. I found these workers in his house. Hugh Meredith was a Welsh Pennsylvanian, thirty years old and raised to country work. He was honest and sensible, with much solid observation. He read some, but he was given to drinking. Stephen Potts was a young countryman of full age, trained the same way. He had uncommon natural talent and great wit and humor, but he was a little lazy. Keimer had hired them at extremely low weekly wages. Their pay would be raised by a shilling every three months if they improved. He had lured them with the promise of higher wages in the future. Meredith was to work at the press, and Potts at bookbinding. Keimer had agreed to teach them both, though he knew neither skill. John was a wild Irishman with no trade. Keimer had bought his service for four years from a ship's captain. He was to be trained as a pressman as well. George Webb was an Oxford scholar. Keimer had also bought his time for four years, intending him to be a compositor. I will say more about him later. David Harry was a country boy Keimer had taken as an apprentice.

I soon perceiv'd that the intention of engaging me at wages so much higher than he had been us'd to give, was, to have these raw, cheap hands form'd thro' me; and, as soon as I had instructed them, then they being all articled to him, he should be able to do without me. I went on, however, very chearfully, put his printing-house in order, which had been in great confusion, and brought his hands by degrees to mind their business and to do it better.

I soon saw why he had hired me at wages so much higher than he usually paid. He meant to have these raw, cheap hands trained by me. As soon as I had taught them, he would be able to do without me, since they were all bound to him by contract. All the same, I went on very cheerfully. I put his printing house in order, which had been in great confusion. Little by little I got his workers to attend to their business and to do it better.

It was an odd thing to find an Oxford scholar in the situation of a bought servant. He was not more than eighteen years of age, and gave me this account of himself; that he was born in Gloucester, educated at a grammar-school there, had been distinguish'd among the scholars for some apparent superiority in performing his part, when they exhibited plays; belong'd to the Witty Club there, and had written some pieces in prose and verse, which were printed in the Gloucester newspapers; thence he was sent to Oxford; where he continued about a year, but not well satisfi'd, wishing of all things to see London, and become a player. At length, receiving his quarterly allowance of fifteen guineas, instead of discharging his debts he walk'd out of town, hid his gown in a furze bush, and footed it to London, where, having no friend to advise him, he fell into bad company, soon spent his guineas, found no means of being introduc'd among the players, grew necessitous, pawn'd his cloaths, and wanted bread. Walking the street very hungry, and not knowing what to do with himself, a crimp's bill⁵¹ was put into his hand, offering immediate entertainment and encouragement to such as would bind themselves to serve in America. He went directly, sign'd the indentures, was put into the ship, and came over, never writing a line to acquaint his friends what was become of him. He was lively, witty, good-natur'd, and a pleasant companion, but idle, thoughtless, and imprudent to the last degree.

It was an odd thing to find an Oxford scholar in the position of a bought servant. He was no more than eighteen years old, and he gave me this account of himself. He was born in Gloucester and educated at a grammar school there. Among the students, he had stood out for some apparent superiority in acting his part when they put on plays. He belonged to the Witty Club there. He had written some pieces in prose and verse, which were printed in the Gloucester newspapers. From there he was sent to Oxford. He stayed about a year but was not well satisfied, wishing above all things to see London and become an actor. At length he received his quarterly allowance of fifteen guineas. Instead of paying his debts, he walked out of town, hid his gown in a furze bush, and went to London on foot. There he had no friend to advise him. He fell into bad company and soon spent his guineas. He found no way to be introduced among the actors. He grew needy, pawned his clothes, and had no bread. He was walking the street very hungry, not knowing what to do with himself, when a crimp's bill⁵¹ was put into his hand. It offered immediate food and lodging, and other inducements, to those who would bind themselves to serve in America. He went straight there, signed the indentures, was put on the ship, and came over. He never wrote a line to let his friends know what had become of him. He was lively, witty, good-natured, and a pleasant companion. But he was idle, thoughtless, and imprudent to the last degree.

John, the Irishman, soon ran away; with the rest I began to live very agreeably, for they all respected me the more, as they found Keimer incapable of instructing them, and that from me they learned something daily. We never worked on Saturday, that being Keimer's Sabbath, so I had two days for reading. My acquaintance with ingenious people in the town increased. Keimer himself treated me with great civility and apparent regard, and nothing now made me uneasy but my debt to Vernon, which I was yet unable to pay, being hitherto but a poor æconomist. He, however, kindly made no demand of it.

John, the Irishman, soon ran away. With the others I began to live very pleasantly. They respected me more because Keimer could not teach them. They learned something from me every day. We never worked on Saturday because Keimer observed it as his Sabbath. That left me two days for reading. I grew better acquainted with the town's clever people. Keimer treated me with great civility and seemed to regard me highly. The only thing that made me uneasy was my debt to Vernon. I was still unable to pay it because I had been poor at managing money. Vernon, however, kindly did not demand payment.

Our printing-house 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 mattrices 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 warehouseman, and everything, and, in short, quite a fac-totum.

Our printing house often lacked sorts (pieces of type), and there was no type-founder in America. I had seen type cast at James's in London, but without paying much attention to how it was done. Even so, I now devised a mold. I used the letters we had as punches and struck the matrices in lead. In this way I made up all our shortages in a fairly tolerable way. I also engraved several things when the occasion called for it. I made the ink. I was the warehouseman and everything else. In short, I was a complete factotum.

But, however serviceable I might be, I found that my services became every day of less importance, as the other hands improv'd in the business; and, when Keimer paid my second quarter's wages, he let me know that he felt them too heavy, and thought I should make an abatement. He grew by degrees less civil, put on more of the master, frequently found fault, was captious, and seem'd ready for an outbreaking. I went on, nevertheless, with a good deal of patience, thinking that his encumber'd circumstances were partly the cause. At length a trifle snapt our connections; for, a great noise happening near the court-house, I put my head out of the window to see what was the matter. Keimer, being in the street, look'd up and saw me, call'd out to me in a loud voice and angry tone to mind my business, adding some reproachful words, that nettled me the more for their publicity, all the neighbours who were looking out on the same occasion being witnesses how I was treated. He came up immediately into the printing-house, continu'd the quarrel, high words pass'd on both sides, he gave me the quarter's warning we had stipulated, expressing a wish that he had not been oblig'd to so long a warning. I told him his wish was unnecessary, for I would leave him that instant; and so, taking my hat, walk'd out of doors, desiring Meredith, whom I saw below, to take care of some things I left, and bring them to my lodgings.

Though I was useful, I found my work became less important each day as the other hands improved. When Keimer paid my wages for the second quarter, he told me they were too high. He said I should accept a reduction. He gradually grew less polite and more bossy. He often found fault, was petty, and seemed ready to explode. I continued, however, with considerable patience, thinking his financial troubles were partly to blame. At last a small incident broke our connection. A loud noise near the courthouse made me lean out the window to see what was happening. Keimer was in the street. He looked up and saw me. He shouted angrily for me to mind my own business and added some insulting words. His public reproach stung me more because the neighbors who were also looking out could see how he treated me. He came up immediately into the printing house and continued the quarrel. Harsh words passed between us. He gave me the quarter's notice we had agreed on. He said he wished he did not have to give such a long notice. I told him that wish was unnecessary because I would leave at once. I took my hat and walked out. I asked Meredith, whom I had seen below, to look after some things I had left. I told him to bring them to my lodgings.

Meredith came accordingly in the evening, when we talked my affair over. He had conceiv'd a great regard for me, and was very unwilling that I should leave the house while he remain'd in it. He dissuaded me from returning to my native country, which I began to think of; he reminded me that Keimer was in debt for all he possess'd; that his creditors began to be uneasy; that he kept his shop miserably, sold often without profit for ready money, and often trusted without keeping accounts; that he must therefore fail, which would make a vacancy I might profit of. I objected my want of money. He then let me know that his father had a high opinion of me, and, from some discourse that had pass'd between them, he was sure would advance money to set us up, if I would enter into partnership with him. "My time," says he, "will be out with Keimer in the spring; by that time we may have our press and types in from London. I am sensible 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."

Meredith came that evening as I had asked, and we talked my situation over. He had come to have a great regard for me, and he was very unwilling that I should leave the house while he stayed in it. I had begun to think of returning to my native country, but he talked me out of it. He reminded me that Keimer was in debt for everything he owned, and that his creditors were growing uneasy. He said Keimer kept his shop miserably. He often sold without profit to get ready money, and often gave credit without keeping accounts. So he must fail, and that would leave an opening I could profit from. I objected that I had no money. He then told me that his father had a high opinion of me. From some conversation between them, he was sure his father would advance money to set us up, if I would go into partnership with him. "My time with Keimer," he said, "will be up in the spring. By then we may have our press and types in from London. I know I am no workman. If you agree, your skill in the business will be your share, set against the capital I put in, and we will share the profits equally."

The proposal was agreeable, and I consented; his father was in town and approv'd of it; the more as he saw I had great influence with his son, had prevailed on him to abstain long from dram-drinking, and he hop'd might break him of that wretched habit entirely, when we came to be so closely connected. I gave an inventory to the father, who carry'd it to a merchant; the things were sent for, the secret was to be kept till they should arrive, and in the meantime I was to get work, if I could, at the other printing-house. But I found no vacancy there, and so remained idle a few days, when Keimer, on a prospect of being employ'd to print some paper money in New Jersey, which would require cuts and various types that I only could supply, and apprehending Bradford might engage me and get the jobb from him, sent me a very civil message, that old friends should not part for a few words, the effect of sudden passion, and wishing me to return. Meredith persuaded me to comply, as it would give more opportunity for his improvement under my daily instructions; so I return'd, and we went on more smoothly than for some time before. The New Jersey jobb was obtained, 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.

The proposal was agreeable, and I consented. His father was in town and approved of it. He was the more willing because he saw I had great influence with his son, had persuaded him for a long time to give up drinking spirits, and hoped I might break that wretched habit entirely once we were closely connected. I gave an inventory to the father. He took it to a merchant. The goods were ordered, and we agreed to keep the matter secret until they arrived. In the meantime I was to try to get work at the other printing house. I found no vacancy there, so I remained idle a few days. Then Keimer, hoping to be hired to print some paper money in New Jersey, which would need cuts and various types that only I could supply, and fearing Bradford might hire me and take the job from him, sent me a very polite message. He said old friends should not part over a few words, the result of sudden passion, and asked me to return. Meredith persuaded me to comply. He said it would give him more chance to improve under my daily instruction. So I returned, and we worked together more smoothly than we had for some time. We got the New Jersey job. I devised a copperplate press for it, the first seen in the country. I cut several ornaments and checks for the bills. We went together to Burlington, where I completed the whole job to their satisfaction. He received so large a sum for the work that it allowed him to keep his head above water much longer.

At Burlington I made an acquaintance with many principal people of the province. Several of them had been appointed by the Assembly a committee to attend the press, and take care that no more bills were printed than the law directed. They were therefore, by turns, constantly with us, and generally he who attended, brought with him a friend or two for company. My mind having been much more improv'd by reading than Keimer's, I suppose it was for that reason my conversation seem'd to be more valu'd. They had me to their houses, introduced me to their friends, and show'd me much civility; while he, tho' the master, was a little neglected. 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.

In Burlington, I got to know many of the province's leading people. Several were appointed by the Assembly to a committee supervising the press. Their job was to ensure no more bills were printed than the law allowed. So they took turns being with us regularly. Usually whoever attended brought a friend or two for company. My mind had been improved more by reading than Keimer's. I suppose that is why they seemed to value my conversation more. They invited me to their homes, introduced me to their friends, and treated me with much courtesy. He, though the master, was somewhat neglected. In truth, he was an odd character. He was ignorant of ordinary life. He liked to rudely oppose commonly accepted opinions. He was extremely slovenly and dirty. He was enthusiastic about certain religious points. He was also a little dishonest.

We continu'd there near three months; and by that time I could reckon among my acquired friends, Judge Allen, Samuel Bustill, the secretary of the Province, Isaac Pearson, Joseph Cooper, and several of the Smiths, members of Assembly, and Isaac Decow, the surveyor-general. The latter was a shrewd, sagacious old man, who told me that he began for himself, when young, by wheeling clay for brick-makers, 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.

We stayed there for nearly three months. By that time I could count among my new friends Judge Allen, Samuel Bustill, the provincial secretary, Isaac Pearson, Joseph Cooper, several of the Smiths who were members of the Assembly, and Isaac Decow, the surveyor-general. Isaac Decow was a shrewd, sagacious old man. He told me he had begun for himself when young by wheeling clay for brick-makers. He learned to write only after he was grown. He carried the chain for surveyors, who taught him surveying, and by his industry he had acquired a good estate. He said, "I foresee that you will soon work this man out of his business, and make a fortune in it at Philadelphia." He had no idea then of my intention to set up there or anywhere. These friends afterwards proved very useful to me, and I was occasionally useful to some of them. They all continued to regard me as long as they lived.

Before I enter upon my public appearance in business, it may be well to let you know the then state of my mind with regard to my principles and morals, that you may see how far those influenc'd the future events of my life. My parents had early given me religious impressions, and brought me through my childhood piously in the Dissenting way. But I was scarce fifteen, when, after doubting by turns of several points, as I found them disputed in the different books I read, I began to doubt of Revelation itself. Some books against Deism⁵² fell into my hands; they were said to be the substance of sermons preached at Boyle's Lectures. It happened that they wrought an effect on me quite contrary to what was intended by them; for the arguments of the Deists, which were quoted to be refuted, appeared to me much stronger than the refutations; in short, I soon became a thorough Deist. My arguments perverted some others, particularly Collins and Ralph; but, each of them having afterwards wrong'd me greatly without the least compunction, and recollecting Keith's conduct towards me (who was another free-thinker), and my own towards Vernon and Miss Read, which at times gave me great trouble, I began to suspect that this doctrine, tho' it might be true, was not very useful. My London pamphlet, which had for its motto these lines of Dryden:⁵³

Before I start my public life in business, it is helpful to tell you the state of my mind then regarding my principles and morals. This will show how much they influenced later events in my life. My parents gave me religious impressions early. They raised me piously as a Dissenter. I was barely fifteen. After reading various books and doubting several debated points, I began to doubt Revelation itself. Some books against Deism⁵² fell into my hands. They were said to be the substance of sermons preached at Boyle's Lectures. They had the opposite effect. The Deists' arguments, which the books quoted to refute, seemed much stronger than the refutations. In short, I soon became a thorough Deist. My arguments led some others astray, particularly Collins and Ralph. Each of them later wronged me greatly without the least compunction. I also remembered Keith's conduct toward me, who was another freethinker, and my own behavior toward Vernon and Miss Read, which at times caused me great trouble. I began to suspect that this doctrine, though it might be true, was not very useful. My London pamphlet had for its motto these lines of Dryden:⁵³

and from the attributes of God, his infinite wisdom, goodness and power, concluded that nothing could possibly be wrong in the world, and that vice and virtue were empty distinctions, no such things existing, appear'd now not so clever a performance as I once thought it; and I doubted whether some error had not insinuated itself unperceiv'd into my argument, so as to infect all that follow'd, as is common in metaphysical reasonings.

And from God's attributes, his infinite wisdom, goodness, and power, I had concluded that nothing could possibly be wrong. I believed the world contained no real evils. I also thought that vice and virtue were empty distinctions and did not exist. That conclusion no longer seemed as clever as I once believed. I began to wonder whether some error had slipped unnoticed into my reasoning and infected everything that followed. Such mistakes are common in metaphysical arguments.

I grew convinc'd that truth, sincerity and integrity in dealings between man and man were of the utmost importance to the felicity of life; and I form'd written resolutions, which still remain in my journal book, to practice them ever while I lived. Revelation had indeed no weight with me, as such; but I entertain'd an opinion that, though certain actions might not be bad because they were forbidden by it, or good because it commanded them, yet probably these actions might be forbidden because they were bad for us, or commanded because they were beneficial to us, in their own natures, all the circumstances of things considered. And this persuasion, with the kind hand of Providence, or some guardian angel, or accidental favourable circumstances and situations, or all together, preserved me, thro' this dangerous time of youth, and the hazardous situations I was sometimes in among strangers, remote from the eye and advice of my father, without any willful gross immorality or injustice, that might have been expected from my want of religion. I say willful, because the instances I have mentioned had something of necessity in them, from my youth, inexperience, and the knavery of others. I had therefore a tolerable character to begin the world with; I valued it properly, and determin'd to preserve it.

I grew convinced that truth, sincerity, and integrity in dealings between people were of the utmost importance to the happiness of life. I wrote down resolutions to practice them as long as I lived, and those resolutions still remain in my journal. Revelation, as such, had indeed no weight with me. But I held this opinion. Certain actions might not be bad because Revelation forbade them, or good because it commanded them. Yet probably those actions were forbidden because they were bad for us, or commanded because they were beneficial to us, by their own nature, all the circumstances of things considered. This conviction preserved me through this dangerous time of youth. So did the kind hand of Providence, or some guardian angel, or chance favorable circumstances and situations, or all of these together. I was sometimes in hazardous situations among strangers, far from my father's eye and advice. Yet I committed no willful gross immorality or injustice, such as might have been expected from my lack of religion. I say willful, because the instances I have mentioned had something of necessity in them, arising from my youth, my inexperience, and the knavery of others. So I had a tolerable character to begin the world with. I valued it properly and resolved to preserve it.

We had not been long return'd to Philadelphia before the new types arriv'd from London. We settled with Keimer, and left him by his consent before he heard of it. We found a house to hire near the market, and took it. To lessen the rent, which was then but twenty-four pounds a year, tho' I have since known it to let for seventy, we took in Thomas Godfrey, a glazier, and his family, who were to pay a considerable part of it to us, and we to board with them. We had scarce opened our letters and put our press in order, before George House, an acquaintance of mine, brought a countryman to us, whom he had met in the street inquiring for a printer. All our cash was now expended in the variety of particulars we had been obliged to procure, and this countryman's five shillings, being our first-fruits, and coming so seasonably, gave me more pleasure than any crown I have since earned; and the gratitude I felt toward House has made me often more ready than perhaps I should otherwise have been to assist young beginners.

We had not been back in Philadelphia long before the new types arrived from London. We settled with Keimer and left him, with his consent, before he heard of our plans. We found a house to rent near the market and took it. The rent was then only twenty-four pounds a year, though I have since known it to rent for seventy. To lessen it, we took in Thomas Godfrey, a glazier, and his family. They were to pay us a large part of the rent, and we were to board with them. We had scarcely unpacked our type and put our press in order when George House, an acquaintance of mine, brought a countryman to us. House had met him in the street asking for a printer. All our cash was now spent on the many things we had been obliged to buy. So this countryman's five shillings, our first earnings, came at just the right time. It gave me more pleasure than any crown I have earned since. And the gratitude I felt toward House has often made me readier than perhaps I would otherwise have been to help young beginners.

There are croakers in every country, 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.

There are doom-sayers in every country who always predict its ruin. One lived in Philadelphia then. He was a notable elderly man with a wise look and a very serious way of speaking. His name was Samuel Mickle. This gentleman was a stranger to me. He stopped one day at my door. He asked if I was the young man who had recently opened a new printing house. I said yes. He told me he felt sorry for me because it was an expensive venture and the money would be lost. Philadelphia, he said, was a sinking place. People were already half bankrupt or close to it. All signs to the contrary, like new buildings and rising rents, were, he insisted, misleading. They were in fact signs that would soon ruin us. He then gave me a long list of present and coming misfortunes. His account left me half melancholy. If I had known him before I started this business, I probably would not have done it. He kept living in that decaying town and kept speaking the same way. For many years he refused to buy a house there because everything was going to ruin. In the end I had the pleasure of seeing him pay five times as much for a house as he might have bought it for when he first began his doom-saying.

I should have mentioned before, that, in the autumn of the preceding year, I had form'd most of my ingenious acquaintance into a club of mutual improvement, which was called the Junto;⁵⁴ we met on Friday evenings. The rules that I drew up required that every member, in his turn, should produce one or more queries on any point of Morals, Politics, or Natural Philosophy, to be discuss'd by the company; and once in three months produce and read an essay of his own writing, on any subject he pleased. Our debates were to be under the direction of a president, and to be conducted in the sincere spirit of inquiry after truth, without fondness for dispute, or desire of victory; and, to prevent warmth, all expressions of positiveness in opinions, or direct contradiction, were after some time made contraband, and prohibited under small pecuniary penalties.

I should have mentioned earlier that, in the autumn of the previous year, I had formed most of my clever acquaintances into a club for mutual improvement. It was called the Junto.⁵⁴ We met on Friday evenings. The rules I wrote required each member, in turn, to present one or more questions. These could be on any point of morals, politics, or natural philosophy. The company would discuss those questions. Every three months each member had to produce and read an essay of his own on any subject he chose. A president directed our debates. They were to be carried out in a sincere spirit of inquiry after truth. No one was to have a fondness for dispute or a desire to win. To prevent heated feelings, strong positive assertions of opinion and direct contradictions were later forbidden. Small monetary penalties were imposed for breaches.

The first members were Joseph Breintnal, a copyer of deeds for the scriveners, a good-natur'd, friendly middle-ag'd man, a great lover of poetry, reading all he could meet with, and writing some that was tolerable; very ingenious in many little Nicknackeries, and of sensible conversation.

The first members were Joseph Breintnal, a deed copier for the scriveners. He was a good-natured, friendly, middle-aged man. He loved poetry and read everything he could find. He wrote some poems that were passable. He was very inventive with many small trinkets, and he was a sensible conversationalist.

Thomas Godfrey, a self-taught mathematician, great in his way, and afterward inventor of what is now called Hadley's Quadrant. But he knew little out of his way, and was not a pleasing companion; as, like most great mathematicians I have met with, he expected universal precision in everything said, or was forever denying or distinguishing upon trifles, to the disturbance of all conversation. He soon left us.

Thomas Godfrey was a self-taught mathematician, remarkable in his field. He later invented what is now called Hadley's Quadrant. But he knew little beyond his specialty, and he was not a pleasant companion. Like most great mathematicians I have met, he expected absolute precision in everything said. He was always denying or splitting hairs over trifles, which disturbed all conversation. He soon left us.

Nicholas Scull, a surveyor, afterwards surveyor-general, who lov'd books, and sometimes made a few verses.

Nicholas Scull was a surveyor. He later became surveyor-general. He loved books and occasionally wrote a few verses.

William Parsons, bred a shoemaker, but, loving reading, had acquir'd a considerable share of mathematics, which he first studied with a view to astrology, that he afterwards laught at it. He also became surveyor-general.

William Parsons was trained as a shoemaker, but he loved reading. He acquired a considerable knowledge of mathematics. At first he studied mathematics to practice astrology. He later laughed at astrology. He also became surveyor general.

William Maugridge, a joiner, a most exquisite mechanic, and a solid, sensible man.

William Maugridge was a joiner, an exceptionally skilled mechanic, and a steady, sensible man.

Hugh Meredith, Stephen Potts, and George Webb I have characteriz'd before.

I have described Hugh Meredith, Stephen Potts, and George Webb earlier.

Robert Grace, a young gentleman of some fortune, generous, lively, and witty; a lover of punning and of his friends.

Robert Grace was a young gentleman of some fortune. He was generous, lively, and witty. He loved puns and cherished his friends.

And William Coleman, then a merchant's clerk, about my age, who had the coolest, clearest head, the best heart, and the exactest morals of almost any man I ever met with. He became afterwards a merchant of great note, and one of our provincial judges. Our friendship continued without interruption to his death, upwards of forty years; and the club continued almost as long, and was the best school of philosophy, morality, and politics that then existed in the province; for our queries, which were read the week preceding their discussion, put us upon reading with attention upon the several subjects, that we might speak more to the purpose; and here, too, we acquired better habits of conversation, everything being studied in our rules which might prevent our disgusting each other. From hence the long continuance of the club, which I shall have frequent occasion to speak further of hereafter.

And William Coleman, then a merchant's clerk about my age. He had the coolest, clearest head, the best heart, and the strictest morals of almost any man I ever met. He later became a merchant of great note and one of our provincial judges. Our friendship continued without interruption until his death, more than forty years. The club continued almost as long. It was the best school of philosophy, morality, and politics that then existed in the province. Our queries were read the week before we discussed them. This made us read carefully on the various subjects, so that we might speak more to the point. Here, too, we acquired better habits of conversation, since our rules provided for everything that might keep us from offending one another. This explains the long life of the club, which I shall often have occasion to speak of later.

But my giving this account of it here is to show something of the interest I had, everyone of these exerting themselves in recommending business to us. Breintnal particularly procur'd us from the Quakers the printing forty sheets of their history, the rest being to be done by Keimer; and upon this we work'd exceedingly hard, for the price was low. It was a folio, pro patria size, in pica, with long primer notes.⁵⁵ I compos'd of it a sheet a day, and Meredith worked it off at press; it was often eleven at night, and sometimes later, before I had finished my distribution for the next day's work, for the little jobbs sent in by our other friends now and then put us back. But so determin'd I was to continue doing a sheet a day of the folio, that one night, when, having impos'd⁵⁶ my forms, I thought my day's work over, one of them by accident was broken, and two pages reduced to pi,⁵⁷ I immediately distribut'd and composed it over again before I went to bed; and this industry, visible to our neighbors, began to give us character and credit; particularly, I was told, that mention being made of the new printing-office at the merchants' Every-night club, the general opinion was that it must fail, there being already two printers in the place, Keimer and Bradford; but Dr. Baird (whom you and I saw many years after at his native place, St. Andrew's in Scotland) gave a contrary opinion: "For the industry of that Franklin," says he, "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 struck the rest, and we soon after had offers from one of them to supply us with stationery; but as yet we did not chuse to engage in shop business.

I relate this here to show how much interest I had. Each of them worked to recommend business to us. Breintnal in particular obtained from the Quakers an order for us to print forty sheets of their history. Keimer was to do the rest. We worked exceedingly hard on this because the price was low. It was a folio, pro patria size, set in pica type with long primer notes.⁵⁵ I composed one sheet a day, and Meredith ran it on the press. It was often eleven at night, sometimes later, before I finished distributing type for the next day's work. Small jobs sent in by other friends sometimes delayed us. I was so determined to keep producing a sheet a day that one night, after I had imposed⁵⁶ my forms and thought my day's work done, one of the forms was accidentally broken and two pages were reduced to pi.⁵⁷ I immediately redistributed and composed it again before I went to bed. Our neighbors saw this industry, and it began to give us reputation and credit. I was told that, when the new printing-office was mentioned at the merchants' Every-night Club, the general opinion was that it would fail because there were already two printers there, Keimer and Bradford. But Dr. Baird, whom you and I saw many years later at his native place, St. Andrew's in Scotland, expressed the opposite view. He said, "The industry of that Franklin is superior to anything I ever saw of the kind. I see him still at work when I go home from the club, and he is at work again before his neighbors are out of bed." This impressed the others. Soon one of them offered to supply us with stationery. But we did not yet choose to engage in shop business.

I mention this industry the more particularly and the more freely, tho' it seems to be talking in my own praise, that those of my posterity, who shall read it, may know the use of that virtue, when they see its effects in my favour throughout this relation.

I mention this diligence more openly, even though it may sound like praising myself. I do it so my descendants who read this will know the value of that virtue. They will see how it benefited me throughout this account.

George Webb, who had found a female friend that lent him wherewith to purchase his time of Keimer, now came to offer himself as a journeyman to us. We could not then employ him; but I foolishly let him know as a secret that I soon intended to begin a newspaper, and might then have work for him. My hopes of success, as I told him, were founded on this, that the then only newspaper, printed by Bradford, was a paltry thing, wretchedly manag'd, no way entertaining, and yet was profitable to him; I therefore thought a good paper would scarcely fail of good encouragement. I requested Webb not to mention it; but he told it to Keimer, who immediately, to be beforehand with me, published proposals for printing one himself, on which Webb was to be employ'd. I resented this; and, to counteract them, as I could not yet begin our paper, I wrote several pieces of entertainment for Bradford's paper, under the title of the Busy Body, which Breintnal continu'd some months. By this means the attention of the publick was fixed on that paper, and Keimer's proposals, which we burlesqu'd and ridicul'd, were disregarded. He began his paper, however, and, after carrying it on three quarters of a year, with at most only ninety subscribers, he offered it to me for a trifle; and I, having been ready some time to go on with it, took it in hand directly; and it prov'd in a few years extremely profitable to me.

George Webb had found a woman friend who lent him enough to buy his time from Keimer. He now came to offer himself to us as a journeyman. We could not employ him then. But I foolishly told him, as a secret, that I soon intended to start a newspaper and might then have work for him. I told him my hopes of success rested on this. The only newspaper at the time, printed by Bradford, was a paltry thing, wretchedly managed and not at all entertaining, and yet it was profitable to him. I therefore thought a good paper could hardly fail to find good support. I asked Webb not to mention it, but he told Keimer. To get ahead of me, Keimer immediately published proposals for printing a paper himself, and Webb was to be employed on it. I resented this. I could not yet begin our paper, so to counter them I wrote several entertaining pieces for Bradford's paper under the title of the Busy Body. Breintnal continued them for some months. In this way the public's attention was fixed on that paper. Keimer's proposals, which we burlesqued and ridiculed, were ignored. He began his paper anyway. He carried it on for three quarters of a year, with at most only ninety subscribers, and then offered it to me for a trifle. I had been ready for some time to take it on, so I took it in hand at once. Within a few years it proved extremely profitable to me.

I perceive that I am apt to speak in the singular number, though our partnership still continu'd; the reason may be that, in fact, the whole management of the business lay upon me. Meredith was no compositor, a poor pressman, and seldom sober. My friends lamented my connection with him, but I was to make the best of it.

I notice I tend to speak in the singular, even though our partnership continued. The reason may be that I, in fact, handled the whole business. Meredith was not a compositor. He was a poor pressman and was seldom sober. My friends regretted my connection with him, but I had to make the best of it.

Our first papers made a quite different appearance from any before in the province; a better type, and better printed; but some spirited remarks of my writing, on the dispute then going on between Governor Burnet and the Massachusetts Assembly, struck the principal people, occasioned the paper and the manager of it to be much talk'd of, and in a few weeks brought them all to be our subscribers.

Our first papers looked very different from any printed earlier in the province. They used better type and were better printed. I wrote some lively remarks about the dispute between Governor Burnet and the Massachusetts Assembly. They caught the attention of the leading people. This made the paper and its manager much talked about. In a few weeks they all became our subscribers.

Their example was follow'd by many, and our number went on growing continually. This was one of the first good effects of my having learnt a little to scribble; 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.

Many followed their example. Our numbers kept growing. This was one of the first good results of my having learned to write a little. Another was that the leading men saw a newspaper now in the hands of someone who could use a pen. They thought it proper to help and encourage me. Bradford still printed the votes, laws, and other public business. He had printed an address from the House to the governor in a coarse, clumsy way. We reprinted it neatly and correctly, and sent a copy to every member. They noticed the difference. It strengthened our friends' position in the House. They voted to make us their printers for the following year.

Among my friends in the House I must not forget Mr. Hamilton, before mentioned, who was then returned from England, and had a seat in it. He interested himself for me strongly in that instance, as he did in many others afterward, continuing his patronage till his death.⁵⁸

Among my friends in the House I must not forget Mr. Hamilton, mentioned earlier. He had just returned from England and held a seat in the House. He strongly supported me in that matter. He did the same in many other cases afterward. He remained my patron until his death.⁵⁸

Mr. Vernon, about this time, put me in mind of the debt I ow'd him, but did not press me. I wrote him an ingenuous letter of acknowledgment, crav'd his forbearance a little longer, which he allow'd me, and as soon as I was able, I paid the principal with interest, and many thanks; so that erratum was in some degree corrected.

Mr. Vernon, around this time, reminded me of the debt I owed him, but he did not press me. I wrote him a frank letter acknowledging it. I asked him to be patient a little longer. He agreed. As soon as I could, I repaid the principal with interest and offered him many thanks. So the error was partly corrected.

But now another difficulty came upon me which I had never the least reason to expect. Mr. Meredith's father, who was to have paid for our printing-house, according to the expectations given me, was able to advance only one hundred pounds currency, which had been paid; and a hundred more was due to the merchant, who grew impatient, and su'd us all. We gave bail, but saw that, if the money could not be rais'd in time, the suit must soon come to a judgment and execution, and our hopeful prospects must, with us, be ruined, as the press and letters must be sold for payment, perhaps at half price.

But now another difficulty came upon me that I had never had the least reason to expect. Mr. Meredith's father was to have paid for our printing house, as I had been led to expect. But he was able to advance only one hundred pounds in currency, which had been paid. Another hundred was owed to the merchant, who grew impatient and sued us all. We gave bail. But we saw that if the money could not be raised in time, the suit must soon come to judgment and execution. Then our hopeful prospects, and we with them, would be ruined. The press and type would have to be sold to pay the debt, perhaps at half price.

In this distress two true friends, whose kindness I have never forgotten, nor ever shall forget while I can remember any thing, came to me separately, unknown to each other, and, without any application from me, offering each of them to advance me all the money that should be necessary to enable me to take the whole business upon myself, if that should be practicable; but they did not like my continuing the partnership with Meredith, who, as they said, was often seen drunk in the streets, and playing at low games in alehouses, much to our discredit. These two friends were William Coleman and Robert Grace. I told them I could not propose a separation while any prospect remain'd of the Meredith's fulfilling their part of our agreement, because I thought myself under great obligations to them for what they had done, and would do if they could; but, if they finally fail'd in their performance, and our partnership must be dissolv'd, I should then think myself at liberty to accept the assistance of my friends.

In this distress two true friends came to me. I have never forgotten their kindness, and never shall while I can remember anything. They came separately, without knowing of each other, and without any request from me. Each of them offered to advance me all the money needed to let me take the whole business on myself, if that should be practicable. But they did not like my continuing the partnership with Meredith. They said he was often seen drunk in the streets and playing at low games in alehouses, much to our discredit. These two friends were William Coleman and Robert Grace. I told them I could not propose a separation while any prospect remained of the Merediths fulfilling their part of our agreement. I felt myself under great obligations to them for what they had done, and would do if they could. But if they finally failed to perform, and our partnership had to be dissolved, I would then feel free to accept my friends' help.

Thus the matter rested for some time, when I said to my partner, "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 pounds 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." I agreed to this proposal: it was drawn up in writing, sign'd, and seal'd immediately. I gave him what he demanded, and he went soon after to Carolina, from whence he sent me next year two long letters, containing the best account that had been given of that country, the climate, the soil, husbandry, etc., for in those matters he was very judicious. I printed them in the papers, and they gave great satisfaction to the publick.

Things rested there for some time. Then I said to my partner, "Perhaps your father is dissatisfied with the part you have taken in this business of ours. Perhaps he is unwilling to advance for you and me what he would for you alone. If that is the case, tell me, and I will give the whole thing up to you and go about my business." "No," he said, "my father really has been disappointed, and really is unable, and I am unwilling to distress him further. I see this is a business I am not fit for. I was raised a farmer. It was foolish of me to come to town and, at thirty years old, make myself 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 inclined to go with them and return to my old work. You may find friends to help you. If you will take the company's debts on yourself, return to my father the hundred pounds he has advanced, pay my small personal debts, and give me thirty pounds and a new saddle, I will give up the partnership and leave the whole in your hands." I agreed to this proposal. It was drawn up in writing, signed, and sealed immediately. I gave him what he asked, and soon after he went to Carolina. From there he sent me two long letters the next year. They contained the best account of that country that had yet been given, covering its climate, soil, farming, and so on, for in those matters he was very judicious. I printed them in the papers, and they gave the public great satisfaction.

As soon as he was gone, I recurr'd to my two friends; and because I would not give an unkind preference to either, I took half of what each had offered and I wanted of one, and half of the other; paid off the company's debts, and went on with the business in my own name, advertising that the partnership was dissolved. I think this was in or about the year 1729.

As soon as he was gone, I turned to my two friends. I would not show an unkind preference for either of them. So I took half of what I needed from one, and half from the other. I paid off the company's debts and went on with the business in my own name, advertising that the partnership was dissolved. I think this was in or about the year 1729.