ess he
was bred to; that, in the mercantile way, tho' he had no stock, he
might, by his diligence and punctuality, recommend himself to
employment as a factor, and in time acquire wherewith to trade on his
own account. I approv'd the amusing one's self with poetry now and
then, so far as to improve one's language, but no farther.

On this it was propos'd that we should each of us, at our next meeting,
produce a piece of our own composing, in order to improve by our mutual
observations, criticisms, and corrections. As language and expression
were what we had in view, we excluded all considerations of invention
by agreeing that the task should be a version of the eighteenth Psalm,
which describes the descent of a Deity. When the time of our meeting
drew nigh, Ralph called on me first, and let me know his piece was
ready. I told him I had been busy, and, having little inclination, had
done nothing. He then show'd me his piece for my opinion, and I much
approv'd it, as it appear'd to me to have great merit. "Now," says he,
"Osborne never will allow the least merit in any thing of mine, but
makes 1000 criticisms out of mere envy. He is not so jealous of you; I
wish, therefore, you would take this piece, and produce it as yours; I
will pretend not to have had time, and so produce nothing. We shall
then see what he will say to it." It was agreed, and I immediately
transcrib'd it, that it might appear in my own hand.

We met; Watson's performance was read; there were some beauties in it,
but many defects. Osborne's was read; it was much better; Ralph did it
justice; remarked some faults, but applauded the beauties. He himself
had nothing to produce. I was backward; seemed desirous of being
excused; had not had sufficient time to correct, etc.; but no excuse
could be admitted; produce I must. It was read and repeated; Watson
and Osborne gave up the contest, and join'd in applauding it. Ralph
only made some criticisms, and propos'd some amendments; but I defended
my text. Osborne was against Ralph, and told him he was no better a
critic than poet, so he dropt the argument. As they two went home
together, Osborne expressed himself still more strongly in favor of
what he thought my production; having restrain'd himself before, as he
said, lest I should think it flattery. "But who would have imagin'd,"
said he, "that Franklin had been capable of such a performance; such
painting, such force, such fire! He has even