I saw the justice of his remark, and thence grew more attentive to the manner in writing, and determined to endeavor at improvement. About this time I met with an odd volume of the Spectator. It was the third. I had never before seen any of them. I bought it, read it over and over, and was much delighted with it. I thought the writing excellent, and wished, if possible, to imitate it.
In this quote Franklin demonstrates several important characteristics of his personality that will lend themselves to his future success. First, he is willing to take direction and constructive criticism. Before Franklin can become a great man he needs to learn from other great men. He knows that unfettered independence is not ideal: instruction and advice from one's betters is useful for advancement. Second, he will primarily gain his reputation through writing: writing articles under the penname "Silence Dogood," publishing pieces on politics and science, writing the Autobiography, and more. Writing is a way to put one's ideas into the world, to shape one's own identity and destiny. From his earliest days Franklin sees writing as key to his future. Third, he has an intense work ethic. He commits himself fully to his endeavors, even if the work that is required is arduous and/or monotonous. Franklin hopes that other young men will be inspired by all of these characteristics.
This was the second governor who had done me the honor to take notice of me; which, to a poor boy like me, was very pleasing.
Like the young heroes of dime novelist Horatio Alger's rags-to-riches tales, Franklin essentially pulls himself up by his bootstraps. He is from a humble background and only has his intellect, work ethic, and a few family ties to propel him into the world. However, he makes the best of his formidable personal traits such as charisma, ambition, and enthusiasm. He parleys these traits into influential relationships with prominent men. He knows that such connections will be useful to him, and later, when he is an influential man, he is happy to do the same.
The breaking into this money of Vernon's was one of the first great errata of my life; and this affair show'd that my father was not much out in his judgment when he suppos'd me too young to manage business of importance.
Franklin uses the word "errata" to describe the mistakes he makes in his life. The term is from printing, which makes sense given his occupation and the conflation of life and writing. He sees this work as a place in which he can identify his errata, explain how he rectified them, and offer advice for his readers about avoiding similar situations in their own lives. He does, of course, elide some of the errata of which he was guilty, but overall he honestly depicts the things he regrets. Most of these center on money, such as lending out Vernon's money, spending too much in London with James Ralph so that he could not come home to Philadelphia and marry Miss Read, and trying to seduce Ralph's mistress which cut off his friendship with the young man and meant that he never got money he'd lent Ralph back.
It happened that they wrought an effect on me quite contrary to what was intended by them; for the arguments of the Deists, which were quoted to be refuted, appeared to me much stronger than the refutations; in short, I soon became a thorough Deist.
Franklin is very clear that the teachings of traditional Protestant sects hold no sway over him. He espouses Deism, the "religion" that says that while God created the earth and everything on it, he then set it all in motion according to natural laws and stepped back, allowing it to function on its own (imagining God as a clockmaker is a good way to think about it). In his youth people labeled him an atheist, and even though he probably wasn't quite that; the only religion that matters to him is the religion of hard work and material success. He values rationality and reasonableness above all. He knows that he can achieve moral perfection without the help of religion, but notes that many of the things he identifies as virtues are the same things as religions would similarly identify.
These libraries have improved the general conversation of the Americans, made the common tradesmen and farmers as intelligent as most gentlemen from other countries, and perhaps have contributed in some degree to the stand so generally made throughout the colonies in defense of their privileges.
Franklin is extremely proud of the founding of Philadelphia's library, devoting many pages of the Autobiography to its conception, formation, workings, and impact. It represents everything Franklin cares about: a truly democratic space where all people can seek, free of charge, to educate themselves and better themselves. Their resulting literacy and wisdom will lead them to more virtuous, profitable lives; he also sees these now-educated Americans as better able to understand how their rights were violated by the British and why it is important to defend said rights.
But your biography will not merely teach self-education, but the education of a wise man; and the wisest man will receive lights and improve his progress, by seeing detailed the conduct of another wise man.
Vaughn's laudatory letter is important for a few reasons. First, it did indeed encourage Franklin to keep writing after many years' absence from the text. Second, it is, to use common parlance, a sort of "humble-brag." Franklin is worthy of everything Vaughn says, but it is still amusing that Franklin includes this letter. Third, the letter signifies that the Autobiography should (and does) become more than just one man's narrative of his life. It is a veritable self-help manual, a work that inspires and instructs. Its author is now one to emulate: the ideal, archetypal self-made man. He is proof that America can birth and fashion an exemplary man. People must read Franklin's work so they too can be exemplary.
My intention being to acquire the habitude of all these virtues, I judg'd it would be well not to distract my attention by attempting the whole at once, but to fix it on one of them at a time; and, when I should be master of that, then to proceed to another, and so on, till I should have gone thro' the thirteen; and, as the previous acquisition of some might facilitate the acquisition of certain others, I arrang'd them with that view, as they stand above.
The list of virtues and concomitant plan about how to master them is one of the most famous parts of the text. Here Franklin explains in his usual rational and plain fashion his methodical, systematic approach to the virtues. It is orderly and lucid, with the virtues building upon each other. This understanding that the virtues have to be made habits rather than just idly dipped into every now and then is a brilliant, prescient observation; it undergirds our contemporary understanding of how human beings can better themselves. Beyond the history and philosophy and bildungsroman elements, this work can be viewed as a true self-help guide.
...I consider'd it as a proper vehicle for conveying instruction among the common people, who bought scarcely any other books; I therefore filled all the little spaces that occurr'd between the remarkable days in the calendar with proverbial sentences, chiefly such as inculcated industry and frugality, as the 96 means of procuring wealth, and thereby securing virtue...
Franklin uses his customary form of understatement here, for Poor Richard's Almanac was profoundly popular and was one of the main contributors to his own fame. His comments on it are quite illuminating in terms of what he most values in life: wealth. Everything in the guide promotes frugality, industry, and virtue; the assumption is that assiduous practice of these things will manifest in wealth and reputation. Franklin says nothing about family, love, God, contentment with one's station in life, or intellectual fulfillment–it is all work and money.
Human felicity is produc'd not so much by great pieces of good fortune that seldom happen, as by little advantages that occur every day.
Franklin is a great man but he is also a simple, humble, earthy man. He meets with kings but remembers the young poor boy he once was. He excels in science and philosophy but can appreciate the simple things in life. His advice to his readers centers on this practical, utilitarian mode of life. The simplest and efficient day-to-day things can produce contentment that may even transcend that of momentous events. Improving daily tasks, altering one's mindset, and practicing the art of industry and frugality all yield positive effects, both mentally and physically.
This whole transaction gave us Americans the first suspicion that our exalted ideas of the prowess of British regulars had not been well founded.
This quote is an important one because it is one of the few explicit allusions to the coming Revolution. The French and Indian War vexes the colonists for many reasons: they don't necessarily see it as their fight, they are worried about their settlements on the frontier, and they are annoyed at being treated rudely by British troops that, as Franklin says, do not seem all that impressive when viewed in situ. After the war, the taxes levied on colonists to pay for the British debt, as well as the command that they not settle beyond the Appalachians (the Proclamation of 1763, actually passed to preclude further conflict with Indians), made the colonists start to see that their rights were being violated. Franklin's comment here is thus very prescient (although, of course, he wrote this after the Revolution).
