Chapter 26

"It was so, and Cotton Mather himself was a member of twenty of these societies," said Benjamin. "They became very popular, and I recall with what interest my father participated in the meetings. I often accompanied him, and, young as I was, they were very interesting to me. It was that fact which suggested the questions I have reported for our club."

When a person united with the Junto, he was required to stand up, lay his hand on his heart, and answer the following questions:

"1. Have you any particular disrespect to any present member?

"_Answer_. I have not.

"2. Do you sincerely declare that you love mankind in general, of what profession or religion soever?

"_Answer_. I do.

"3. Do you think any person ought to be harmed in his body, name, or goods, for mere speculative opinion, or his external way of worship?

"_Answer_. No.

"4. Do you love truth for truth's sake; and will you endeavor impartially to find and receive it yourself, and communicate it to others?

"_Answer_. Yes."

At one of their earliest meetings Benjamin proposed that each member (the number of members was limited to twelve) should bring his books to the club-room for reference during their discussions.

"A capital idea," said Coleman, "and I would suggest that each member have the privilege of reading the books belonging to other members."

"Another good idea," rejoined Benjamin; "I second that motion with all my heart."

"It will not take any one of us a great while to read all the books we can muster," suggested Potts.

At that time there was no bookstore in Philadelphia, nor was there one of considerable note anywhere in the Colonies, except in Boston. The people of Philadelphia sent to England for the books they wanted, which was expensive and inconvenient.

After this plan had been successfully used for several months, Benjamin made another proposition.

"I propose that we establish a library, interesting parties outside to join us in the enterprise."

"Raising money for the same by subscription, do you mean?" inquired Maugridge.

"Yes; unless there is a better way of doing it."

"I doubt if outsiders can be interested to join us in such a project," said Grace. "Few people care enough about books to put money into such an enterprise."

"Perhaps so; but we can try; if we fail we shall still be as well off as we are now," was Benjamin's answer. "Unless we make the effort we shall never know what we can do."

"And you are the one to solicit subscriptions, Ben," remarked Godfrey. "If anybody can succeed, you can. If I should undertake and fail, as I should, it would not prove that the scheme is impracticable."

"I am perfectly willing to solicit subscriptions, and I will begin at once and be able to report success or failure at the next meeting," was Benjamin's generous offer.

At the following meeting he was able to report success, so far as he had been able to work; and he continued until fifty young tradesmen had pledged forty shillings each as a subscription, and, in addition, ten shillings per annum. This was unexpected success, and the members of the Junto were highly elated. Thus was established the first circulating library in this country. Benjamin Franklin was the author of it; and that library numbers now one hundred thousand volumes. Since that day the library scheme has proved so beneficial to individuals and the public, that there are thousands of circulating libraries in the land. Almost every town of two or three thousand inhabitants has one. It must not be forgotten, however, that Benjamin Franklin conceived and reduced the idea to practice.

The following are some of the questions discussed by members of the Junto:

"Is sound an entity or body?

"How may the phenomenon of vapors be explained?

"Is self-interest the rudder that steers mankind, the universal monarch to whom all are tributaries?

"Which is the best form of government, and what was that form which first prevailed among mankind?

"Can any one particular form of government suit all mankind?

"What is the reason that the tides rise higher in the Bay of Fundy than the Bay of Delaware?

"Is the emission of paper money safe?

"What is the reason that men of the greatest knowledge are not the most happy?

"How may the possession of the lakes be improved to our advantage?

"Why are tumultuous, uneasy sensations united with our desires?

"Whether it ought to be the aim of philosophy to eradicate the passions?

"How may smoky chimneys be best cured?

"Why does the flame of a candle tend upwards in a spire?

"Which is the least criminal, a _bad_ action joined with a _good_ intention, or a _good_ action with a _bad_ intention?

"Is it inconsistent with the principles of liberty in a free government, to punish a man as a libeller when he speaks the truth?"

The foregoing Rules and Questions show that it could not have been an ordinary class of young men to meet and discuss such subjects. Benjamin's talent is manifest both in the organization and the themes considered.

Improvements have been the order of the day since the Junto was organized; but we doubt if there has been much improvement upon the Junto in literary organizations for the young. It is not surprising, that, of the original twelve members, two became surveyors-general; one the inventor of a quadrant; one a distinguished mechanic and influential man; one a merchant of great note and a provincial judge, and all but one respected and honored men. At the same time, Benjamin, the founder, became "Minister to the Court of St. James," "Minister Plenipotentiary to France," and the greatest Statesman and Philosopher of America, in the eighteenth century.

In old age Doctor Franklin said of the Junto: "It 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 on the several subjects, that we might speak more to the purpose; and here, too, we acquired better habits of conversation, every thing being studied in our rules which might prevent our disgusting each other."

The Junto was copied in England fifty years after Benjamin organized it in Philadelphia, by Cleming Jenkinson (who became Earl of Liverpool) and others; and, within it, they began careers that became illustrious. It has been copied in different parts of our own land down to the present day, blessing the people and the country in more ways than one.

"I can tell you how to get over the difficulty," said Benjamin: "let each member get up a club of twelve, and that will give a chance for one hundred and forty-four members."

"And when that number is attained, I suppose you will have each one of the one hundred and forty-four organize a Junto, and that will make the membership seventeen hundred and twenty-eight, enough to constitute a good township," suggested Coleman, who did not endorse Benjamin's plan.

"One Junto will be of more service to members, as well as to the public, than a dozen can be, only abolish the limit to twelve members, and allow all who desire to join," was Coleman's view.

"More interesting, also, to have a larger number of members," suggested Parsons. "Numbers create enthusiasm."

"And numbers often create friction, too," retorted Benjamin; "we want to avoid both shoals and rocks."

"Another thing that I object to very much is this: if each one of us organizes another Junto, we no longer associate with each other--the very thing for which this Junto was organized." This was the strongest objection that Coleman urged.

"That is the selfish side of the question," suggested Benjamin. "On the other hand, there will be twelve times as many persons to be benefited. If we twelve are benefited, how much better and grander to have one hundred and forty-four benefited!"

"Ben is right; and I am of the opinion that the sooner we adopt this plan the better. It will be unpleasant to sacrifice our social connections to form new ones, but the new ones may become equally pleasant." Scull thus supported Benjamin's proposition; and so did Meredith, Maugridge, and others.

This discussion arose from the popularity of the Junto. It became so popular that large numbers of persons wanted to join it, and besought the members to abolish the rule limiting the membership to twelve. Hence, Benjamin's proposition to meet the exigency, which was carried, with this amendment:

"The new clubs shall be auxiliary to this, the original one, each reporting its proceedings to the parent society, that one harmonious purpose and plan may characterize all."

All the members did not organize a club, but five or six did, and these clubs flourished for many years, blessing the town and the whole colony.

The Junto was not many months old, when Benjamin made another proposition.

"The books we read have words and phrases in other languages, and I do not know their meaning. I studied Latin some in Boston, before I was ten years old, and Latin words I can guess at, but French I can't. Suppose we study French."

"You can study it if you want to," replied Scull, "but I have not the time for another study."

"And I have not the taste for it," said Meredith. "One language is all that I can handle, and I can't handle that as I want to."

"I like the suggestion," responded Coleman "and can give a little time to French, though not a great deal. If Ben becomes an expert linguist he can translate the foreign words and phrases for us."

"That last suggestion is best of all," remarked Parsons. "Ben can go ahead and become a linguist for our benefit. That is the benevolent side of this question," punning on his argument for the benevolent side of the club question.

Whether other members of the Junto studied the languages we have no means of knowing, but Benjamin did, with remarkable success. First he studied French, and when he could read it quite well, he took up Italian and Spanish. By this time he became so interested in foreign languages that he revived his acquaintance with Latin, becoming quite a good scholar therein. It was a mystery to his companions how he found time to accomplish so much; but he did it by method and industry, improving the smallest fragments of time, working early and late. He was very fond of playing chess; but he denied himself the pleasure wholly in order that he might have the more time for study. While at Keimer's he found more time for reading and hard study, because his employer observed Saturday as his Sabbath, giving only five days in the week to work.

XXXI.

BRIGHTER DAYS.

It would require several months for the printing outfit ordered from England to reach Philadelphia. In the mean time, Benjamin was considering what to do; and, while canvassing the field, he received the following note from Keimer:

"PHILADELPHIA, 10 Dec., 1727.

"MR. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN:

"_Dear Sir_,--It is not wise for old friends like you and I to separate for a few words spoken in passion. I was very hasty, and am sorry for it. I want my old foreman back again at the old price. I have plenty of work, and if you think well of my proposition, come and see me.

"Yours truly,

"SAMUEL KEIMER."

Benjamin's first impulse was to destroy the letter and take no further notice of it. But the second, sober thought led him to consult Meredith, who continued to work for Keimer. Meredith read the letter, and said:

"I should advise you to accept his proposition, as you have nothing to do."

"But can you tell me what selfish end he has in view, for Keimer would never come down like that unless he had an axe to grind?" Benjamin said.

"Most certainly I can. He can have a government job if he can do the work. The Province of New Jersey is going to make a new issue of paper money, and he can get the job; but you are the only printer in Philadelphia who can do that work, so he wants you."

"I knew there must be something of that sort, or he never would have asked for my work again. He is too contemptible a man to work for." Benjamin spoke with much feeling; and he was right, too.

"But here is the point," continued Meredith. "I am poorly equipped to set up business for myself, and you can teach me. It will be anywhere from six to eight months before our outfit arrives from England, so here is a good opportunity for me to improve."

"I suppose that is the best way of looking at it; but Keimer has so little manhood about him that I have no respect for him. I dislike to work for a man whom I despise, and can't help it." Benjamin's language showed that it was almost too much to ask him to return to Keimer's printing office; but Meredith persevered.

"For my sake, I want you should decide to accept the proposition. Keimer has made an apology, so that you can return without compromising your manhood at all. It looks to me as if it were wiser to accept his proposal than to decline it."

"I will sleep over it to-night before I decide, and let you know in the morning," replied Benjamin, as he took his leave.

In the morning Benjamin put in his appearance at Keimer's office, ready for work. He received a hearty welcome, and was at once apprized of the paper-money job of New Jersey.

Benjamin succeeded in contriving and completing a copper-plate press; and when cuts and ornaments were all ready, Keimer and he proceeded to Burlington, N.J., where they remained three months to fulfill the contract. It proved a rare school for Benjamin. It brought him in contact with many prominent men, who were of much assistance to him afterwards. He was so much more intelligent than Keimer, that the latter was of little consequence, as very little notice was taken of him. One day Isaac Decon, the surveyor-general, said to him:

"You are complete master of your business, and success is before you."

"I have improved my opportunities," modestly answered Benjamin, "and done the best I could to learn my trade. I don't like the half-way method of doing business."

"I commenced business in a very humble way," continued Decon, "without dreaming that I should ever possess such an estate as I do now."

"What was your business?"

"I wheeled clay for the brickmakers, and had no opportunity of going to school in my boyhood. I did not learn to write until I became of age. I acquired my knowledge of surveying when I carried a chain for surveyors, who were pleased with my desire to learn the business, and assisted me. By constant industry, and close application, and not a little perseverance, I have succeeded in reaching the place where you now see me."

"That is the only way any person ever reached an honorable position," remarked Benjamin, after listening to the interesting story of success.

"You are right in that view, and one-half of the battle is fought when correct views of life are fixed. When an employer like Keimer is inferior to his employee in ability, tact, and enterprise, there is a very poor show for him. If you set up for yourself in Philadelphia, you will work him completely out of his business."

Late in the spring of 1728 the printing outfit arrived from England. Benjamin and Meredith had settled with Keimer, who was unusually happy because his profits on his paper-money job in New Jersey had tided him over very discouraging embarrassments. Keimer knew nothing of their plans, however, when a settlement was consummated, as both had kept the secret. The first intimation that he, or the public, had of such an enterprise, was the opening of their printing house in the lower part of Market Street--"FRANKLIN & MEREDITH."

"Here's a man looking for a printer," said George House, an old friend of Benjamin. "He inquired of me where he could get a job done, and I told him that here was the place above all others."

"Thank you for the advertisement, George. Yes, sir, we can serve you here at short notice. What will you have done?" Benjamin won the customer over at once by his genial, familiar way.

The man made known his wants; and it proved to be a five-shilling job, all the more acceptable because it was the first.

With the members of the Junto all interested in his success, and the public men of New Jersey, who made his acquaintance at Burlington, Benjamin's business was soon well advertised. Many people were taken by surprise, and most of them predicted a failure, since there were two printers in town already. One day Samuel Nickle, an old citizen of the town, known somewhat as a croaker, was passing by, and, looking up, he read the sign.

"Another printing house!" he said to himself. "And two in town already! Who can be so thoughtless?" He stopped and mused a few moments, and then entered.

"Are you the young man who has opened this printing house?" he inquired of Benjamin.

"I am, sir."

"I am very sorry for you. You are throwing away your money; you can't succeed with two old printing houses here. You will fail."

"What makes you think so?"

"Because Philadelphia is degenerating, and half the people are now bankrupt, or nearly so, and how can they support so many printers?"

"But the appearance of Philadelphia indicates thrift," answered Benjamin. "See how many buildings are going up, and how rents are rising every month. This does not look like going backward, it seems to me."

"These are the very things that will ruin us," responded Nickle. "They are no evidence of prosperity, but of extravagance, that will bring disaster sooner or later."

"That sort of disaster is what we want," suggested Benjamin; "the more of it the better. If Philadelphia ever becomes much of a town, it will be in just that way." Benjamin saw at once that he was talking with a croaker and treated him accordingly.

There was an organization of business men in Philadelphia at that time, known as the "Merchants' Every-Night Club," answering, perhaps, to a "Board of Trade" of our day. Its purpose was to advance the business interests of the town. A member raised the question, "Can another printing house prosper in town?"

"Not with the present population," was the view of one member.

"It will be a long time before three printing houses will be required," remarked another.

"They could not have had very discreet advisers, it seems to me," still another remarked.

In this manner the subject was canvassed, every member but one predicting the failure of the enterprise. That one was Doctor Baird, a prominent physician, and he said:

"It will prove a success. For the industry of that Franklin is superior to any thing 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."

"Doctor, I guess you are right, I did not think of that when I spoke," remarked one who had predicted failure. This member was so much impressed by Doctor Baird's remark that he subsequently went to Benjamin and made this proposition:

"I think you can add a stationer's department to your business, and thus increase your profits; and if you think so, I will furnish you with stock on credit."

"Your offer is a very generous one, and I thank you for it," answered Benjamin; "but I think we had better stick to our trade at present and not put too many irons in the fire at once."

"That is a wise caution, I think, and I am all the more impressed that you are a young man of sound judgment, and you will succeed."

He had no doubt now that the printing house would succeed.

"Your good opinion encourages me very much, and I shall do my best to have it realized," replied Benjamin. "I thank you very much for your generous offer, and, perhaps, at some future day, I shall wish to accept it."

"Let me know whenever you are ready for it," said the gentleman as he took his departure.

"We will start a weekly paper as soon as we are able," said Benjamin to Meredith one day; "the _Mercury_ is as near nothing as it can be. I believe that an able paper here, abreast with the times, will succeed."

"You can make it succeed if any one can," replied Meredith, to whom his partner had given a full account of his connection with the _New England Courant_ in Boston.

They canvassed the subject until it was decided to start a weekly paper as soon as their pecuniary condition would permit. Just then the Oxford student, whose time Keimer had bought, called upon Benjamin.

"Will you employ me as journeyman printer?" he asked.

"Employ you?" responded Benjamin with much surprise. "I thought your time was Keimer's for four years."

"It was; but it is not now; I have bought it back."

"I am glad to hear that; you will be more of a man for it; and, before long, I think we should like your work; just now we are not in want of more help."

"Your work is increasing, I suppose?" said Webb; "hope I shall not have to wait long."

"If you can keep a secret, Webb, I will let you into it," continued Benjamin. "I expect to start a weekly paper before many weeks have passed; and then I shall have plenty of work."

"How long shall I have to wait?"

"I can't say. It is possible I may want you before I start the newspaper; work is coming in very well. But you must not let Keimer know about the paper. When it starts I want it should be a surprise to him and the public."

"I will not divulge your secret," was Webb's ready promise.

Nevertheless, Webb did disclose the secret to Keimer himself, who proceeded to start a paper of his own, called the _Pennsylvania Gazette_, and he hired Webb, at good wages, to work on it. It proved to be a miserable affair, without ability or intelligent enterprise, so that a sharp, witty young man like Benjamin could readily make it a "laughing-stock."

"I will show up his ignorance and conceit in the _Mercury_" (name of the paper already published by Bradford), he said to Meredith. "See if I don't."

"A good idea, Ben; go ahead; it will create a sensation. Bradford will be glad to publish any thing you may write."

"I will see him at once." And Benjamin hastened to the office of the _Mercury_, made known his purpose to Bradford, who caught at it at once."

"Just the thing I want," responded Bradford. "Let me have something for the next issue."

"Certainly; you shall have the first article to-morrow morning."

Benjamin hurried away with his mind completely absorbed upon the subjects he should take up. The result was a series of amusing articles, in which he burlesqued Keimer's proposals, and ridiculed his editorials, which really deserved nothing better. He continued to write in this way several months, signing all his articles "_Busy Body_." The public were greatly interested in the communications, because of their real merit. They were bright, even sparkling, full of humor, logical to sharpness, and charged with ability. They drew public attention to Bradford's paper, and public ridicule to Keimer's; so that the subscription list of the former increased, while that of the latter never had over ninety subscribers. People on every hand inquired, "Who is _Busy Body_?" And, finally, the public learned that it was "that young Franklin, the printer." Keimer learned who his critic was; and, after the lapse of six or eight months from the time the first number was issued, who should appear before Benjamin at his office but him, saying:

"I understand that you think of starting a weekly newspaper; and I have come to sell you mine."

"How is that? Can't you make it go?" Benjamin replied in a familiar way.

"No, not as I want to. I don't think I am exactly qualified to run a newspaper."

"How many subscribers have you?"

"Ninety."

"Only ninety?" exclaimed Benjamin. "That number will be of no aid in starting a paper; might as well start new; new paper, new title, new editor, new every thing."

The conclusion of the interview was, however, that Benjamin purchased the paper, took possession immediately, advertised his literary enterprise, and "it proved," as he said, "in a few years extremely profitable to me."