THE DISPUTE.
Benjamin was intimate, at this time, with a youth by the name of John Collins. He was intelligent, sprightly, and fond of books, so that he was a very agreeable companion. They differed somewhat in their opinions upon various subjects, and frequently found themselves engaged in earnest disputation. When other boys were accustomed to spend their time in foolish talking and jesting, Benjamin and John were warmly discussing some question of importance, well suited to improve the mind. One day their conversation related to the education of the sexes.
"It would be a waste of money," said John, "to attempt to educate girls as thoroughly as boys are educated; for the female sex are inferior to the male in intellectual endowment."
"Pshaw!" exclaimed Benjamin; "you know better than that. The girls are not so simple as you think they are. I believe that women are not a whit inferior to men in their mental qualities."
"I should like to know where you discover the evidence of it?" replied John. "There is no proof of it in the works they have written."
"That may be true, and still they stand upon an equality in respect to intellect. For not half so much is done to educate them as there is to educate the male sex. How can you tell whether they are mentally inferior or not, until they are permitted to enjoy equal advantages?"
"As we tell many other things," answered John. "Women do not need so high mental endowments as men, since they are not required to lead off in the different branches of business, or to prosecute the sciences. I can see no wisdom in bestowing talents upon them which they never use, and it is often said that 'nothing is made in vain.'"
"Well, I must go," said Benjamin, "but I think you have a weak cause to defend. If I had the time I could make out a case."
"A poor one, I guess," quickly added John. "We will see, the next time we meet, who can make out a case."
"It will be some time before we meet again," responded Benjamin, "and our ardour will be cooled before that time, I am thinking. But it will do us no harm to discuss the subject."
"If we keep our temper," said John, tacking his sentence to the last word of Benjamin's reply. And so saying, they parted.
After Benjamin had revolved the subject still more in his mind, he became anxious to commit his argument to writing. Accordingly, with pen and paper in hand, he sat down to frame the best argument he could in favour of educating the female sex. He wrote it in the form of a letter, addressed to his friend Collins, and, after having completed, he copied it in a fair hand, and sent it to him. This brought back a long reply, which made it necessary for Benjamin to pen an answer. In this way the correspondence continued, until several letters had passed between them, and each one had gained the victory in his own estimation.
One day Benjamin's father met with these letters accidentally, and he read them over, and was somewhat impressed with their character.
"What are these, Benjamin," he inquired, at the same time holding up the letters.
Benjamin smiled, and rather hesitated to reply.
"So it seems you have been engaged in a controversy with John," continued Mr. Franklin. "You have both done very well, though I think there is some chance of improvement yet."
"Have you read them all?" inquired Benjamin.
"I have, and must say that, in some respects, John has the advantage of you."
"In what has he the advantage?" asked Benjamin, with some anxiety.
"Well, John writes in a more finished style than you do," answered Mr. Franklin. "His expressions are more elegant, and there is more method and perspicuity in his composition."
"I rather think you are prejudiced," said Benjamin, with a smile.
"I rather think not," answered his father. "You have the advantage of John in correct spelling, and in pointing your sentences, which is the consequence of working in the printing-office. But I can convince you that less method and clearness characterize your letters than his."
"I am ready to be convinced," added Benjamin. "I hardly expect I have attained perfection in writing yet."
His father then proceeded to read from the letters of each, with the design of showing that John's writing was more perspicuous, and that there was more method in his argument. Nor was it a very difficult task.
"I am convinced," said Benjamin, before his father had read all he intended to read. "I can make improvement in those points without much trouble. There is certainly a good chance for it."
"That is what I want you should see," rejoined his father, "I am really pleased with your letters, for they show me that you have talents to improve. My only object in calling your attention to these defects is to aid you in cultivating your mental powers."
This kind, paternal criticism was a very happy thing for Benjamin. It had the effect to make him more careful in his compositions, and to beget within him both a desire and resolve to improve. Not long after, he met with an old volume of the Spectator, in a bookstore; and knowing that it would be a good model by which to form the style, he determined to purchase it. He bought it at a low price, and began to study it with reference to improving the style of his composition. The method which he adopted to discipline himself, by the aid of this work, is proof of his patience, perseverance, and desire to excel. In the first place, he read it over and over, until he became very well acquainted with its contents. Then he took some of the papers it contained, and made short hints of the sentiments of each sentence, and laid them by for a few days; and then, without referring to the book, he proceeded to put those thoughts into sentences, and thus went through each paper,—a long and laborious work. When he had completed a paper in this way, he carefully compared his Spectator with the original, and was able thereby to discover and correct many errors in his style. He found that he was very deficient in the command of language.
"If you had not discouraged me in writing poetry," said he to his father, "I should have found it of much service now."
"How so?" inquired Mr. Franklin.
"If I had continued to write poetry, I should have been obliged to select words that would rhyme, and this would have made me familiar with a larger number of words, and the choicest ones too. I am greatly troubled now to find words to express my thoughts."
"I should have had no objections to your writing poetry with such an object in view; but to print and sell it about town was carrying the thing a little too far," replied Mr. Franklin. "It is not too late to begin now. I rather think you have discovered an important defect in your writing. John evidently has a better command of language than you have, hence his style is more polished. But you are at work, now, in the right way to improve. Perseverance will accomplish the thing."
"I am going to do this," said Benjamin; "I shall take some of the tales in the book and put them into verse, and then, after a while, change them back again."
"That will be a good exercise," answered his father, much pleased with his son's desire to improve. "If your patience holds out, you will be amply rewarded, in the end, for all your labour."
This last purpose, Benjamin executed with much zeal, and thus divided his time between putting tales into poetry, and then turning them into prose. He also jumbled his collection of hints into confusion, and so let them lie for some weeks, when he would again reduce them to order, and write out the sentences to the end of the subject.
For a printer-boy to accomplish so much, when he must work through the day in the office, seemed hardly possible. But, at this period, Benjamin allowed no moments to run to waste. He always kept a book by him in the office, and every spare moment was employed over its pages. In the morning, before he went to work, he found some time for reading and study. He was an early riser, not, perhaps, because he had no inclination to lie in bed, but because he had more to improve his mind. He gained time enough in the morning, by this early rising, to acquire more knowledge than some youths and young men do by constantly going to school. In the evening, he found still more time for mental improvement, extending his studies often far into the night. It was his opinion that people generally consume more time than is necessary in sleep, and one of his maxims, penned in early manhood, was founded on that opinion. The maxim is, "The sleeping fox catches no poultry."
It is not strange that a boy who subjected himself to such close discipline for a series of years should write some of the best maxims upon this subject when he became a man. Take the following, in addition to those cited in a former chapter:—
"There are no gains without pains; then help hands, for I have no lands."
"Industry pays debts, while despair increaseth them."
"Never leave that till to-morrow which you can do to-day."
"Leisure is time for doing something useful."
"A life of leisure and a life of laziness are two things."
"Fly pleasures, and they will follow you. The diligent spinner has a large shift, and, now I have a sheep and a cow, every one bids me good-morrow."
"Be ashamed to catch yourself idle."
"Handle your tools without mittens; remember that the cat in gloves catches no mice."
"There is much to be done, and perhaps you are weak-handed: but stick to it steadily, and you will see great effects, for constant dropping wears away stones; and by diligence and patience the mouse ate in two the cable; and little strokes fell great oaks."
"Early to bed, and early to rise
Makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise."
Here is the genuine gold of thought,—whole volumes of counsel worked down into single flashing lines of truth,—just such utterances as we might expect from the lips of one who was early taught to walk in the ways of wisdom. All along in the future of Benjamin's life, we shall see these maxims illustrated, proving that they are living and bright realities.
In order to prosecute his purposes, Benjamin took a step, at this period, for which he censured himself long after. Being away from his father's house, in a boarding-place provided by his brother, he violated the Sabbath day by devoting its sacred hours to mental improvement. At home, his parents had ever required that he should attend public worship; but now he neglected the house of God, that he might command the more time for study. It was a grave breach of a divine commandment, and a disregard of parental authority, which he afterwards deeply regretted. At the time, he was obliged to hold long parleys with conscience, which told him that he ought still to visit the sanctuary, and devote Sabbath hours to sacred duties. Yet his great thirst for knowledge overcame his regard for holy time.
It must appear quite evident to the reader by this time, that Benjamin derived much benefit from his conversation with John Collins upon a useful topic. A large majority of boys, of their age, spend their leisure moments in vain and useless talking. They think not of self-improvement, and scarcely desire to be benefited in this way. The most unmeaning and thoughtless words escape from their lips, and a sound, sensible, valuable conversation they seldom, if ever, attempt. What an excellent example is that of young Franklin and Collins, discussing a question of importance, instead of wasting their breath in meaningless chatter! It stimulated the former to consult the best models of style in composition, and was the real occasion of his adopting a most critical and thorough plan of self-culture. All this the consequence of conversing properly, instead of spending leisure moments in boyish antics, or uttering nonsense!
The reader need not infer that violation of the Sabbath, and disregard of parental counsels, are less heinous sins than some would grant, since Benjamin was guilty of both, and yet he did not go to ruin. For ten boys who do the same things that he did are ruined thereby, where one is saved. The father of Walter Scott forbade his reading fictitious works, yet he concealed them in a sly place, and read them when his father's eye was not upon him; and they served to stimulate his mind to pursue a most brilliant literary career. In like manner, Pope, the distinguished poet, strolled into the theatre in his boyhood, when he was away from his parents at school, and there the first aspiration of his soul for that sphere of mental effort in which he became distinguished, was begotten. But these examples cannot be cited in favour of novel-reading and theatre-going; for they are exceptions to a general rule. The great mass of the youth who allow themselves to be fascinated by the novel and theatre make shipwreck of their hopes.