<h4><SPAN name="V" id="V" />V</h4>
<h4>EARLY FRIENDS IN PHILADELPHIA</h4>
<p><ANTIMG src="images/block-k.jpg" class="floatLeft" alt="block-K" />
EIMER and I liv'd on a pretty good familiar footing, and agreed
tolerably well, for he suspected nothing of my setting up. He
retained a great deal of his old enthusiasms and lov'd
argumentation. We therefore had many disputations. I used to work
him so with my Socratic method, and had trepann'd him so often by
questions apparently so distant from any point we had in hand, and
yet by degrees led to the point, and brought him into difficulties
and contradictions, that at last he grew ridiculously cautious, and
would hardly answer me the most common question, without asking
first, "<i>What do you intend to infer from that</i>?" However, it
gave him so high an opinion of my abilities in the confuting way,
that he seriously proposed my being his colleague in a project he
had of setting up a new sect. He was to preach the doctrines, and I
was to confound all opponents. When he came to explain with me upon
the doctrines, I found several conundrums which I objected to,
unless I might have my way a little too, and introduce some of
mine.</p>
<p>Keimer wore his beard at full length, because somewhere in the
Mosaic law it is said, "<i>Thou shalt not mar the corners of thy
beard</i>." He likewise kept the Seventh day, Sabbath; and these
two points were essentials with him. I dislik'd both; but agreed to
admit them upon condition of his adopting the doctrine of using no
animal food. "I doubt," said he, "my constitution will not bear
that." I assur'd him it would, and that he would be the better for
it. He was usually a great glutton, and I promised myself some
diversion in half starving him. He agreed to try the practice, if I
would keep him company. I did so, and we held it for three months.
We had our victuals dress'd, and brought to us regularly by a woman
in the neighborhood, who had from me a list of forty dishes, to be
prepar'd for us at different times, in all which there was neither
fish, flesh, nor fowl, and the whim suited me the better at this
time from the cheapness of it, not costing us above eighteenpence
sterling each per week. I have since kept several Lents most
strictly, leaving the common diet for that, and that for the
common, abruptly, without the least inconvenience, so that I think
there is little in the advice of making those changes by easy
gradations. I went on pleasantly, but poor Keimer suffered
grievously, tired of the project, long'd for the flesh-pots of
Egypt, and order'd a roast pig. He invited me and two women friends
to dine with him; but, it being brought too soon upon table, he
could not resist the temptation, and ate the whole before we
came.</p>
<p>I had made some courtship during this time to Miss Read. I had a
great respect and affection for her, and had some reason to believe
she had the same for me; but, as I was about to take a long voyage,
and we were both very young, only a little above eighteen, it was
thought most prudent by her mother to prevent our going too far at
present, as a marriage, if it was to take place, would be more
convenient after my return, when I should be, as I expected, set up
in my business. Perhaps, too, she thought my expectations not so
well founded as I imagined them to be.</p>
<p>My chief acquaintances at this time were Charles Osborne, Joseph
Watson, and James Ralph, all lovers of reading. The two first were
clerks to an eminent scrivener or conveyancer in the town, Charles
Brockden; the other was clerk to a merchant. Watson was a pious,
sensible young man, of great integrity; the others rather more lax
in their principles of religion, particularly Ralph, who, as well
as Collins, had been unsettled by me, for which they both made me
suffer. Osborne was sensible, candid, frank; sincere and
affectionate to his friends; but, in literary matters, too fond of
criticizing. Ralph was ingenious, genteel in his manners, and
extremely eloquent; I think I never knew a prettier talker. Both of
them were great admirers of poetry, and began to try their hands in
little pieces. Many pleasant walks we four had together on Sundays
into the woods, near Schuylkill, where we read to one another, and
conferr'd on what we read.</p>
<div class="figcenter"><ANTIMG width-obs="70%" src= "images/illus-012-red.jpg" alt= "Many pleasant walks we four had together" title= "Many pleasant walks we four had together" /></div>
<p>Ralph was inclin'd to pursue the study of poetry, not doubting
but he might become eminent in it, and make his fortune by it,
alleging that the best poets must, when they first began to write,
make as many faults as he did. Osborne dissuaded him, assur'd him
he had no genius for poetry, and advis'd him to think of nothing
beyond the business he was bred to; that, in the mercantile way,
tho' he had no stock, he might, by his diligence and punctuality,
recommend himself to employment as a factor, and in time acquire
wherewith to trade on his own account. I approv'd the amusing one's
self with poetry now and then, so far as to improve one's language,
but no farther.</p>
<p>On this it was propos'd that we should each of us, at our next
meeting, produce a piece of our own composing, in order to improve
by our mutual observations, criticisms, and corrections. As
language and expression were what we had in view, we excluded all
considerations of invention by agreeing that the task should be a
version of the eighteenth Psalm, which describes the descent of a
Deity. When the time of our meeting drew nigh, Ralph called on me
first, and let me know his piece was ready. I told him I had been
busy, and, having little inclination, had done nothing. He then
show'd me his piece for my opinion, and I much approv'd it, as it
appear'd to me to have great merit. "Now," says he, "Osborne never
will allow the least merit in anything of mine, but makes 1000
criticisms out of mere envy. He is not so jealous of you; I wish,
therefore, you would take this piece, and produce it as yours; I
will pretend not to have had time, and so produce nothing. We shall
then see what he will say to it." It was agreed, and I immediately
transcrib'd it, that it might appear in my own hand.</p>
<p>We met; Watson's performance was read; there were some beauties
in it, but many defects. Osborne's was read; it was much better;
Ralph did it justice; remarked some faults, but applauded the
beauties. He himself had nothing to produce. I was backward; seemed
desirous of being excused; had not had sufficient time to correct,
etc.; but no excuse could be admitted; produce I must. It was read
and repeated; Watson and Osborne gave up the contest, and join'd in
applauding it. Ralph only made some criticisms, and propos'd some
amendments; but I defended my text. Osborne was against Ralph, and
told him he was no better a critic than poet, so he dropt the
argument. As they two went home together, Osborne expressed himself
still more strongly in favor of what he thought my production;
having restrain'd himself before, as he said, lest I should think
it flattery. "But who would have imagin'd," said he, "that Franklin
had been capable of such a performance; such painting, such force,
such fire! He has even improv'd the original. In his common
conversation he seems to have no choice of words; he hesitates and
blunders; and yet, good God! how he writes!" When we next met,
Ralph discovered the trick we had plaid him, and Osborne was a
little laughed at.</p>
<p>This transaction fixed Ralph in his resolution of becoming a
poet. I did all I could to dissuade him from it, but he continued
scribbling verses till <i>Pope</i> cured him.<SPAN name="FNanchor_35" id="FNanchor_35" /><SPAN href="#Footnote_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</SPAN>
He became, however, a pretty good prose writer. More of him
hereafter. But, as I may not have occasion again to mention the
other two, I shall just remark here, that Watson died in my arms a
few years after, much lamented, being the best of our set. Osborne
went to the West Indies, where he became an eminent lawyer and made
money, but died young. He and I had made a serious agreement, that
the one who happen'd first to die should, if possible, make a
friendly visit to the other, and acquaint him how he found things
in that separate state. But he never fulfill'd his promise.</p>
<div class="footnote">
<p><SPAN name="Footnote_35" id="Footnote_35" /><SPAN href=
"#FNanchor_35"><span class="label">[35]</span></SPAN> "In one of the
later editions of the <i>Dunciad</i> occur the following lines:</p>
<div class="poem">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="i2">'Silence, ye wolves! while Ralph to Cynthia
howls,</div>
<div class="i2">And makes night hideous—answer him, ye
owls.'</div>
</div></div>
<p>To this the poet adds the following note:</p>
<p>'James Ralph, a name inserted after the first editions, not
known till he writ a swearing-piece called <i>Sawney</i>, very
abusive of Dr. Swift, Mr. Gay, and myself.'"</p>
</div>
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