Becoming America - An Exploration of American Literature from Precolonial to Post-Revolution, 2018a

BECOMING AMERICA
REVOLUTIONARY AND EARLY NATIONAL PERIOD LITERATURE
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 rst voyage from Boston,
being becalm’d o 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 sh 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 sh, 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 sh were opened, I saw smaller sh 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 nd 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 diculties and contradictions, that at last
he grew ridiculously cautious, and would hardly answer me the most common
question, without asking rst, “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
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