From Boyhood to Manhood: Life of Benjamin Franklin Part 38

While Mr. Franklin was considering the proposition contained in Governor Keith's letter, Benjamin was busy in calling upon old friends and visiting old resorts. He had been absent seven months, and, in that time, had added two or three times that number of months to his personal appearance. He appeared like a young man twenty-one years of age, and his new apparel imparted to him a grace and comeliness that he lacked when he left Boston. He had developed into a handsome, gentlemanly, intelligent, and witty young man.

It was during this visit to Boston that he called upon Dr. Increase Mather, to whose preaching he listened when a resident of the town.

The doctor received him cordially and invited him into his library, where they chatted for some time about books, Philadelphia, and other matters. When Benjamin arose to go, the doctor said:

"Come this way, and I will show you a nearer way out," pointing to a narrow pa.s.sage with a beam crossing it overhead. They were still talking, the doctor following behind Benjamin, when the latter turned partly about to speak to the former.

"_Stoop! Stoop_!" shouted the doctor.

Benjamin did not understand what he meant until his head struck the beam overhead with considerable force.

"There," said the doctor, laughing, "you are young and have the world before you; stoop as you go through it, and you may miss many hard thumps."

Nearly seventy years afterwards the recipient of this counsel wrote as follows:

"This advice, thus beaten into my head, has frequently been of use to me; and I often think of it when I see pride mortified, and misfortunes brought upon people by carrying their heads too high."

John Collins was a clerk in the post-office. He revolved the matter of going to Philadelphia with Benjamin a sober youth, or remaining in Boston a drunken one. The more he pondered the more he was inclined to accept Benjamin's advice. The appeal from Collins drunk to Collins sober finally met his approval.

"I have decided to go with you," he said to Benjamin, the next time they met.

"Glad to hear it, John, if you take my advice and leave the drink-habit in Boston. I shall enjoy your company hugely."

"You shall have it. I have given up my position in the post-office, and am packing up now. I want to carry my books with the rest of my traps."

"And I shall take my books this time. I shall s.h.i.+p to New York, where I have some business, and thence to Philadelphia."

"And I want to go by the way of Providence, Rhode Island, to visit friends, and will meet you in New York," responded John.

"Agreed; but remember, John, that you and I are going to steer clear of strong drink. Give it a wide berth, and the way is open before you to success."

"I see it, and mean to act accordingly." John really meant what he said, but the poor fellow did not understand how weak he was. Neither was Benjamin aware that the drink habit was fastened upon him so tightly.

Mr. Franklin had taken a plenty of time to consider the advice of Governor Keith, and Benjamin was getting uneasy to return.

"I have considered the matter long and carefully," said Mr. Franklin to Benjamin, "having a desire to aid you if possible; but have come to the conclusion, finally, that I can not do it at present."

"I told Governor Keith that I doubted whether you would a.s.sist me now, so that your conclusion is not altogether unexpected." Benjamin's reply was cool--almost indifferent.

"When you become twenty-one years of age, and need a.s.sistance to start in business for yourself, I will gladly render it; but it is hardly safe for a boy of eighteen to engage in such an enterprise. Get more experience." These words were indicative of Mr. Franklin's caution.

"Well, I have no great desire to rule a printing house. I am content to serve," and these words expressed Benjamin's real feelings.

"At the same time," continued his father, "I am highly gratified that you have conducted yourself so well as to gain the good opinion of even the governor. I trust that you will continue to conduct yourself with propriety. At twenty-one you will save money enough to set up business for yourself, if your economy holds out."

"I think it will," responded Benjamin. "My wants are few, and so my expenses are small. And I like work as well as ever."

"There is one thing I hope you will avoid, Benjamin. You will, no doubt, be writing for the public press, as you did here. My advice is to avoid lampooning and libeling. You erred in that way here, and furnished occasion for just and severe criticism."

"We have not time to discuss that matter now," answered Benjamin; "but if I were to live my life over again, and edit the _Courant_ in the same circ.u.mstances, I should repeat the same thing. But for that fight there would be a censors.h.i.+p over the press of Boston to-day."

"Possibly," rejoined his father; "but I think there is a wiser course.

You must live and learn."

"I regret exceedingly that James can not be reconciled to you,"

interrupted his mother. "He is indulging a very bad spirit, and my prayer is that he may see the folly of it, before you leave, and be at peace with you."

"I met him more than half way," replied Benjamin, "and he seemed to stand aloof all the more. Whenever he returns to reason he will find me ready and waiting to forget the past."

"It is so painful to see brothers disagree!" And a deep, doleful sigh escaped her heart as his mother said it.

Benjamin's separation from his parents was tender and affectionate.

They scarcely expected to see his face again on this side of the River, and they presented him with several gifts as tokens of their undying love. With their sincere blessing upon him he turned away from the old home, where so many of his happiest hours had been spent, and, wiping unbidden tears from his eyes, found himself again out on the world's great highway alone, seeking his fortune.

XXIV.

HIS RETURN, AND WHAT CAME OF IT.

John left Boston two or three days before Benjamin. The sloop in which Benjamin sailed stopped at Newport, where his brother John lived, affording him the opportunity to visit him. John was well-nigh overcome by the sight of Benjamin, for whom he ever had the most sincere affection. Their meeting was as glad to him as it was unexpected. There he met a Mr. Vernon, who said:

"I have a bill of thirty-five pounds currency in New York, which I have no doubt can be collected readily--could you collect it for me?"

"I will do it with pleasure," replied Benjamin.

"You can collect and keep it until I write what disposition to make of it. I am not quite certain just now."

"Very well; I will hold it subject to your direction."

"And I will give you an order for the money, which will be necessary."

"Yes, I suppose that is the business way."

His stay in Newport was very brief. On returning to the sloop in season to sail, he found that several pa.s.sengers had been taken on board from that town. Among them was a motherly sort of a Quaker lady, and, also, two young women traveling together. Benjamin was a polite young man, and sought to be of service to them. The old Quaker lady was attended by two servants, yet Benjamin found an opportunity to be of some service to her, and she appreciated his kindness. Nor was he indifferent towards the two young women. He made their acquaintance, and showed them some attention; and they, in turn, showed him attention, with interest. The Quaker lady looked on, understanding the situation better than he did; and finally she called him aside, by some kind of a motion, and said:

"Young man, beware of those girls, or they will lead you astray."

"How so?" inquired Benjamin, considerably surprised.

"They are bad girls, and thee is not much acquainted with the ways of the world."

"You are right, madam; I am not much acquainted with the women world, and I dare say they might easily lead me astray." Benjamin did not exactly believe what the Quakeress said, but he was a little given to humor, and so he spoke as he did.

"It is a serious matter, young man; thee may depend on that. I know that they are bad girls by their actions. They mean to set a snare for thee."

"Well, I a.s.sure you that I will not fall into it. They have not caught me yet."