schools, put out to interest, and so continued at interest forever; which interest annually shall be laid out in silver medals, and given as honorary rewards annually by the directors of the said free schools, for the encouragement of scholarship in the said schools, belonging to the said town, in such manner as to the discretion of the selectmen of the said town shall seem meet."

This provision immediately took effect. The fund was placed at interest, and has accumulated to twice its original. amount, the whole of the income apparently not having at first been required for the annual distribution of medals. The first name on the record of the medallists is that of our respected fellow-citizen, Dr John Collins Warren, 1792.

At the age of ten, as we have already seen, Benjamin was taken from school to help his father in his business, which was that of a tallow-chandler and soap-boiler; a business to which he was not bred, but which he had taken up on his arrival in New England, because he had found that his trade as a dyer was in little request, and would not support his family. In this, his first occupation in life, our future philosopher, statesman, and ambassador, was employed in cutting wick, filling the moulds, attending the shop, and running errands. This business was not to the taste of the aspiring lad, who had a strong inclination for the sea, against which, however, his father declared. But living near the water, he was much in it and on it. He learned to swim well, and retained his fondness for this exercise for the rest of his life. He learned also to manage boats; and, when embarked with other boys, was commonly allowed to govern, especially (as he adds with some slyness) "in any case of difficulty." On other occasions, he was generally the leader among the boys, and sometimes led them into scrapes. One instance of these he was induced to leave on record in his autobiography, inasmuch as it shows an early projecting public spirit, though not then justly conducted. As it will furnish a striking example of the superior simplicity of Franklin's own style over that of the retranslation above described, I quote the account of this little effort of roguish engineering in both forms: —

This father, who succeeded so early in inculcating upon his hopeful son one of the great rules of practical morality, though in humble life, was no common man. He is admirably sketched in the autobiography. He had an excellent constitution, was of middle stature, was well set, and very strong. He could draw prettily, and was skilled a little in music. His voice was sonorous and agreeable, so that when he played on

his violin, and sung withal, as he was accustomed to do after the business of the day was over, it was extremely agreeable to hear. He had some knowledge of mechanics, and on occasion was very handy with other tradesmen's tools. This taste and skill passed to his distinguished son. But his great excellence was his sound understanding, and his solid judgment in prudential matters, both in private and public affairs. It is true he was never employed in the latter, the numerous family he had to educate, and the straitness of his circumstances, keeping him close to his trade; but he was frequently visited by the leading men, who consulted him for his opinion in public affairs, and those of the church he belonged to, and who showed great respect for his judgment and advice. He was also much consulted by private persons when any difficulty occurred in their affairs, and was frequently chosen an arbitrator between contending parties. At his table he liked to have, as often as possible, some sensible friend or neighbor, and always took care to start some ingenious or useful topic of discourse, which might tend to improve the minds of his children. "By this means," continues Franklin, "he turned our attention to what was good, just, and prudent in the conduct of life; and little or no notice was ever taken of what related to the victuals on the table; whether it was well or ill dressed, in or out of season, of good or bad flavor, preferable or inferior to this or that other thing of the kind; so that I was brought up in such a perfect inattention to those matters, as to be quite indifferent what kind of food was set before me. Indeed, I am so unobservant of it, that to this day I can scarce tell, a few hours after dinner, of what dishes it consisted. This has been a great convenience to me in travelling, where my companions have been sometimes very unhappy for want of a suitable gratification of their more delicate, because better instructed, tastes and appetites."

When Franklin's father taught his son this well-learned lesson of indifference to the pleasures of the table, he gave him, poor as he was, a better philosopher's stone, than was ever dreamed of by the alchemist. In the mean time, how

ever, he was to learn a trade. Two years' trial at soap and candles but rendered this business the more disgusting, and increased the hankering for the sea, which the good father, however, still opposed. In the hope of finding among the other mechanical trades one which would strike the son's fancy, he was taken by his father to see the bricklayers, the joiners, the turners, and the braziers, but all apparently with no great effect. Some seeds indeed of mechanical ingenuity were sown, a fondness for tools encouraged, and so much skill in handling them acquired as to be ever after useful in life, not only in doing trifling jobs in the house, when a workman was not at hand, but in constructing machines for philosophical experiments, at the moment when their conception was fresh and warm. For a short time there is a prospect of a choice. The father has a nephew bred to the cutler's business in London, and just established in Boston. It is proposed that Benjamin shall be apprenticed to his cousin Samuel as a cutler. But the aspiring youth is designed by Providence to deal with weapons of a finer temper and a keener edge. There is no friendship in trade; Samuel demands an exorbitant fee for receiving his cousin as an apprentice, and the displeased uncle takes his son home again.

Benjamin, from his youth, had been passionately fond of reading, and all the money that came into his hands was laid out by him in purchasing books. The hereditary Puritanism of the family guided him to his first acquisition; but a better could hardly have been made. It consisted of the works of John Bunyan, in separate little volumes; and these, when thoroughly read, were sold to purchase R. Burton's Historical Collections, "small chapmen's books, forty volumes in all." As to the good father's little library, it consisted chiefly of books in polemical divinity-dry, unprofitable reading, most of which, however, Benjamin perused, and often regretted afterwards, that, at a time when he had such a thirst for knowledge, more proper books had not fallen in his way. There was, however, among the father's books, a copy of Plutarch's Lives, which Benjamin read abundantly; and “I still think," says he, "that time spent to great advantage." No

doubt our hopeful little scapegrace who builds a wharf, in the night, with the stones laid up for a neighbor's house, and, preparatory to being whipped, "demonstrates to his father the utility of the work," was prepared to read the lives of the old Greek and Roman worthies to some advantage. They often took their neighbor's stones to build their own structures, and never failed, when necessary, "to demonstrate the utility of the work." Among the father's books were Defoe's Essay on Projects, and Cotton Mather's Essay to do good; "which," says the autobiography, "perhaps gave me a turn of thinking that had an influence on some of the principal future events of my life."

This fondness for books at length determined the father for the trade of a printer, although he had already one son, (James) of that profession, for so Benjamin designates the calling of his choice. In 1717, James had returned from England with a press and types, to set up as a printer in Boston. This was a more attractive business than that of a tallow-chandler; but the desire for the sea still remained. To nip that passion effectually in the bud, the father was impatient to have Benjamin bound to his brother; a formidable affair in those rigid and summary times. Benjamin stood out for some time, but was at last persuaded, and signed the indenture when he was but twelve years old. He was to serve an apprenticeship of nine long years; but, as some compensation for this protracted term, he was to have journeyman's wages the last year.

These were somewhat hard conditions for a lad naturally impatient of restraint, and aspiring beyond his years. But the situation was not without its advantages. "I had now access to better books," and more of them, and from this time began with earnestness the work of self-education. The apprentice of the printer naturally became acquainted with the apprentices of the booksellers, and in this way a volume could be occasionally borrowed, which he was careful to return soon and clean. But a youngest apprentice, especially if but twelve years old, has not much leisure in the day for reading. "Often I sat up in my chamber," says