"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."