The Autobiography of Ben Franklin | Page 7

the sea. To prevent the apprehended
effect of such an inclination, my father was impatient to have me bound
to my brother. I stood out some time, but at last was persuaded, and
signed the indentures when I was yet but twelve years old. I was to
serve as an apprentice till I was twenty-one years of age, only I was to
be allowed journeyman's wages during the last year. In a little time I
made great proficiency in the business, and became a useful hand to my
brother. I now had access to better books. An acquaintance with the
apprentices of booksellers enabled me sometimes to borrow a small one,
which I was careful to return soon and clean. Often I sat up in my room
reading the greatest part of the night, when the book was borrowed in

the evening and to be returned early in the morning, lest it should be
missed or wanted.
And after some time an ingenious tradesman, Mr. Matthew Adams,
who had a pretty collection of books, and who frequented our
printing-house, took notice of me, invited me to his library, and very
kindly lent me such books as I chose to read. I now took a fancy to
poetry, and made some little pieces; my brother, thinking it might turn
to account, encouraged me, and put me on composing occasional
ballads. One was called The Lighthouse Tragedy, and contained an
account of the drowning of Captain Worthilake, with his two daughters:
the other was a sailor's song, on the taking of Teach (or Blackbeard) the
pirate. They were wretched stuff, in the Grub-street-ballad style; and
when they were printed he sent me about the town to sell them. The
first sold wonderfully, the event being recent, having made a great
noise. This flattered my vanity; but my father discouraged me by
ridiculing my performances, and telling me verse-makers were
generally beggars. So I escaped being a poet, most probably a very bad
one; but as prose writing bad been of great use to me in the course of
my life, and was a principal means of my advancement, I shall tell you
how, in such a situation, I acquired what little ability I have in that way.
There was another bookish lad in the town, John Collins by name, with
whom I was intimately acquainted. We sometimes disputed, and very
fond we were of argument, and very desirous of confuting one another,
which disputatious turn, by the way, is apt to become a very bad habit,
making people often extremely disagreeable in company by the
contradiction that is necessary to bring it into practice; and thence,
besides souring and spoiling the conversation, is productive of disgusts
and, perhaps enmities where you may have occasion for friendship. I
had caught it by reading my father's books of dispute about religion.
Persons of good sense, I have since observed, seldom fall into it, except
lawyers, university men, and men of all sorts that have been bred at
Edinborough.
A question was once, somehow or other, started between Collins and
me, of the propriety of educating the female sex in learning, and their

abilities for study. He was of opinion that it was improper, and that
they were naturally unequal to it. I took the contrary side, perhaps a
little for dispute's sake. He was naturally more eloquent, had a ready
plenty of words; and sometimes, as I thought, bore me down more by
his fluency than by the strength of his reasons. As we parted without
settling the point, and were not to see one another again for some time,
I sat down to put my arguments in writing, which I copied fair and sent
to him. He answered, and I replied. Three or four letters of a side had
passed, when my father happened to find my papers and read them.
Without entering into the discussion, he took occasion to talk to me
about the manner of my writing; observed that, though I had the
advantage of my antagonist in correct spelling and pointing (which I
ow'd to the printing-house), I fell far short in elegance of expression, in
method and in perspicuity, of which he convinced me by several
instances. I saw the justice of his remark, and thence grew more
attentive to the manner in writing, and determined to endeavor at
improvement.
About this time I met with an odd volume of the Spectator. It was the
third. I had never before seen any of them. I bought it, read it over and
over, and was much delighted with it. I thought the writing excellent,
and wished, if possible, to imitate it. With this view I took some of the
papers, and, making short hints of the sentiment in each sentence, laid
them