I had hitherto kept the proposition
of my setting up, a secret in Philadelphia, and I still kept it. Had
it been known that I depended on the governor, probably some friend,
that knew him better, would have advis'd me not to rely on him, as I
afterwards heard it as his known character to be liberal of promises
which he never meant to keep. Yet, unsolicited as he was by me, how
could I think his generous offers insincere? I believ'd him one of the
best men in the world.
I presented him an inventory of a little print'g-house, amounting by my
computation to about one hundred pounds sterling. He lik'd it, but
ask'd me if my being on the spot in England to chuse the types, and see
that every thing was good of the kind, might not be of some advantage.
"Then," says he, "when there, you may make acquaintances, and establish
correspondences in the bookselling and stationery way." I agreed that
this might be advantageous. "Then," says he, "get yourself ready to go
with Annis;" which was the annual ship, and the only one at that time
usually passing between London and Philadelphia. But it would be some
months before Annis sail'd, so I continu'd working with Keimer,
fretting about the money Collins had got from me, and in daily
apprehensions of being call'd upon by Vernon, which, however, did not
happen for some years after.
I believe I have omitted mentioning that, in my first voyage from
Boston, being becalm'd off Block Island, our people set about catching
cod, and hauled up a great many. Hitherto I had stuck to my resolution
of not eating animal food, and on this occasion consider'd, with my
master Tryon, the taking every fish as a kind of unprovoked murder,
since none of them had, or ever could do us any injury that might
justify the slaughter. All this seemed very reasonable. But I had
formerly been a great lover of fish, and, when this came hot out of the
frying-pan, it smelt admirably well. I balanc'd some time between
principle and inclination, till I recollected that, when the fish were
opened, I saw smaller fish taken out of their stomachs; then thought I,
"If you eat one another, I don't see why we mayn't eat you." So I
din'd upon cod very heartily, and continued to eat with other people,
returning only now and then occasionally to a vegetable diet. So
convenient a thing it is to be a reasonable creature, since it enables
one to find or make a reason for everything one has a mind to do.
Keimer 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 lead 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, "What do you intend to
infer from that?" 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.
Keimer wore his beard at full length, because somewhere in the Mosaic
law it is said, "Thou shalt not mar the corners of thy beard." 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.
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.
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
Brogden; 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 criticising. Ralph was
ingenious, genteel in his manners, and extremely eloquent; I think I
never knew a prettier talker. Both of them great admirers of poetry,
and began to try their hands in little pieces.
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