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"Ben Franklin"
Benjamin Franklin, Autobiography: Page 36
of 154
meant to return to Philadelphia. He had brought no money with him, the whole he
could muster having been expended in paying his passage. I had fifteen pistoles;
so he borrowed occasionally of me to subsist, while he was looking out for
business. He first endeavored to get into the playhouse, believing himself
qualify'd for an actor; but Wilkes, to whom he apply'd, advis'd him candidly not
to think of that employment, as it was impossible be should succeed in it. Then
he propos'd to Roberts, a publisher in Paternoster Row, to write for him a
weekly paper like the Spectator, on certain conditions, which Roberts did not
approve. Then he endeavored to get employment as a hackney writer, to copy for
the stationers and lawyers about the Temple, but could find no vacancy.
I immediately got into work at Palmer's, then a famous printing-house in
Bartholomew Close, and here I continu'd near a year. I was pretty diligent, but
spent with Ralph a good deal of my earnings in going to plays and other places
of amusement. We had together consumed all my pistoles, and now just rubbed on
from hand to mouth. He seem'd quite to forget his wife and child, and I, by
degrees, my engagements with Miss Read, to whom I never wrote more than one
letter, and that was to let her know I was not likely soon to return. This was
another of the great errata of my life, which I should wish to correct if I were
to live it over again. In fact, by our expenses, I was constantly kept unable to
pay my passage.
At Palmer's I was employed in composing for the second edition of Wollaston's
"Religion of Nature." Some of his reasonings not appearing to me well founded, I
wrote a little metaphysical piece in which I made remarks on them. It was
entitled "A Dissertation on Liberty and Necessity, Pleasure and Pain." I
inscribed it to my friend Ralph; I printed a small number. It occasion'd my
being more consider'd by Mr. Palmer as a young man of some ingenuity, tho' he
seriously expostulated with me upon the principles of my pamphlet, which to him
appear'd abominable. My printing this pamphlet was another erratum. While I
lodg'd in Little Britain, I made an acquaintance with one Wilcox, a bookseller,
whose shop was at the next door. He had an immense collection of second-hand
books. Circulating libraries were not then in use; but we agreed that, on
certain reasonable terms, which I have now forgotten, I might take, read, and
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