"They
are no evidence of prosperity, but of extravagance, that will bring
disaster sooner or later."
"That sort of disaster is what we want," suggested Benjamin; "the more
of it the better. If Philadelphia ever becomes much of a town, it will
be in just that way." Benjamin saw at once that he was talking with a
croaker and treated him accordingly.
There was an organization of business men in Philadelphia at that
time, known as the "Merchants' Every-Night Club," answering, perhaps,
to a "Board of Trade" of our day. Its purpose was to advance the
business interests of the town. A member raised the question, "Can
another printing house prosper in town?"
"Not with the present population," was the view of one member.
"It will be a long time before three printing houses will be
required," remarked another.
"They could not have had very discreet advisers, it seems to me,"
still another remarked.
In this manner the subject was canvassed, every member but one
predicting the failure of the enterprise. That one was Doctor Baird, a
prominent physician, and he said:
"It will prove a success. For the industry of that Franklin is
superior to any thing I ever saw of the kind. I see him still at work
when I go home from club, and he is at work again before his neighbors
are out of bed."
"Doctor, I guess you are right, I did not think of that when I spoke,"
remarked one who had predicted failure.
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