Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin | Page 6

too, I shall indulge the inclination so natural in old men, to be
talking of themselves and their own past actions; and I shall indulge it
without being tiresome to others, who, through respect to age, might
conceive themselves obliged to give me a hearing, since this may be
read or not as anyone pleases. And, lastly (I may as well confess it,
since my denial of it will be believed by nobody), perhaps I shall a
good deal gratify my own vanity.[4] Indeed, I scarce ever heard or saw
the introductory words, "Without vanity I may say," etc., but some vain
thing immediately followed. Most people dislike vanity in others,
whatever share they have of it themselves; but I give it fair quarter
wherever I meet with it, being persuaded that it is often productive of
good to the possessor, and to others that are within his sphere of action;
and therefore, in many cases, it would not be altogether absurd if a man
were to thank God for his vanity among the other comforts of life.
[4] In this connection Woodrow Wilson says, "And yet the surprising
and delightful thing about this book (the Autobiography) is that, take it
all in all, it has not the low tone of conceit, but is a staunch man's sober
and unaffected assessment of himself and the circumstances of his
career."
Gibbon and Hume, the great British historians, who were
contemporaries of Franklin, express in their autobiographies the same
feeling about the propriety of just self-praise.
And now I speak of thanking God, I desire with all humility to
acknowledge that I owe the mentioned happiness of my past life to His
kind providence, which lead me to the means I used and gave them

success. My belief of this induces me to hope, though I must not
presume, that the same goodness will still be exercised toward me, in
continuing that happiness, or enabling me to bear a fatal reverse, which
I may experience as others have done; the complexion of my future
fortune being known to Him only in whose power it is to bless to us
even our afflictions.
The notes one of my uncles (who had the same kind of curiosity in
collecting family anecdotes) once put into my hands, furnished me with
several particulars relating to our ancestors. From these notes I learned
that the family had lived in the same village, Ecton, in
Northamptonshire,[5] for three hundred years, and how much longer he
knew not (perhaps from the time when the name of Franklin, that
before was the name of an order of people,[6] was assumed by them as
a surname when others took surnames all over the kingdom), on a
freehold of about thirty acres, aided by the smith's business, which had
continued in the family till his time, the eldest son being always bred to
that business; a custom which he and my father followed as to their
eldest sons. When I searched the registers at Ecton, I found an account
of their births, marriages and burials from the year 1555 only, there
being no registers kept in that parish at any time preceding. By that
register I perceived that I was the youngest son of the youngest son for
five generations back. My grandfather Thomas, who was born in 1598,
lived at Ecton till he grew too old to follow business longer, when he
went to live with his son John, a dyer at Banbury, in Oxfordshire, with
whom my father served an apprenticeship. There my grandfather died
and lies buried. We saw his gravestone in 1758. His eldest son Thomas
lived in the house at Ecton, and left it with the land to his only child, a
daughter, who, with her husband, one Fisher, of Wellingborough, sold
it to Mr. Isted, now lord of the manor there. My grandfather had four
sons that grew up, viz.: Thomas, John, Benjamin and Josiah. I will give
you what account I can of them at this distance from my papers, and if
these are not lost in my absence, you will among them find many more
particulars.
[5] See Introduction.

[6] A small landowner.
Thomas was bred a smith under his father; but, being ingenious, and
encouraged in learning (as all my brothers were) by an Esquire Palmer,
then the principal gentleman in that parish, he qualified himself for the
business of scrivener; became a considerable man in the county; was a
chief mover of all public-spirited undertakings for the county or town
of Northampton, and his own village, of which many instances were
related of him; and much taken notice of and patronized by the then
Lord Halifax. He died in 1702, January 6, old style,[7] just four years
to a day before I was born.