The Printer Boy Part 22

"True; I only meant that you should be in readiness when the s.h.i.+p sails. It will be necessary for you still to keep the matter secret while you continue to work for Keimer."

Keimer, for whom Benjamin worked, was a singular man in some respects, and liked to draw him into discussions upon religious subjects. At one time he thought seriously of originating a new sect, and proposed to Benjamin to join him, as his masterly powers of argumentation would confound opponents. He wore his beard long, because it is somewhere said in the Mosaic Law, "_Thou shalt not mar the corners of thy beard._" Also, he kept the seventh, instead of the first day of the week, as a Sabbath. Benjamin opposed him on these points, and their discussions were frequent and warm. Keimer often exhorted him to embrace his own peculiar views on these subjects. Finally, Benjamin replied, "I will do it, provided you will join me in not eating animal food, and I will adhere to them as long as you will stick to a vegetable diet."

Benjamin was here aiming at some diversion, since Keimer was a great eater, and thought much of a savoury dish. Benjamin wanted to starve him a little, as he thought some of his preaching and practice did not correspond.

"I should die," said Keimer, "if I adopt such a diet; my const.i.tution will not bear it."

"Nonsense!" answered Benjamin. "You will be better than you are now.

So much animal food is bad for any one."

"What is there left to eat when meat is taken away?" inquired Keimer.

"Little or nothing, I should think."

"I will pledge myself to furnish recipes for forty palatable dishes,"

answered Benjamin, "and not one of them shall smell of the flesh-pots of Egypt."

"Who will prepare them? I am sure no woman in this town can do it."

"Each dish is so simple that any woman can easily prepare it," added Benjamin.

Keimer finally accepted the proposition. He was to become a vegetarian, and Benjamin was to embrace formally the long-beard doctrine, and observe the seventh day for a Sabbath. A woman was engaged to prepare their food and bring it to them, and Benjamin furnished her with a list of forty dishes, "in which there entered neither fish, flesh, nor fowl." For about three months Keimer adhered to this way of living, though it was very trying to him all the while. Benjamin was often diverted to see his manifest longings for fowl and flesh, and expected that he would soon let him off from keeping the seventh day and advocating long beards. At the end of three months, Keimer declared that he could hold out no longer, and the agreement was broken. It was a happy day for him; and to show his gladness, he ordered a roast pig, and invited Benjamin and two ladies to dine with him. But the pig being set upon the table before his guests arrived, the temptation was so great that he could not resist, and he devoured the whole of it before they came, thus proving that he was a greater pig than the one he swallowed.

It should be remarked here, that for some time Benjamin had not followed the vegetable diet which he adopted in Boston. The circ.u.mstances and reason of his leaving are thus given by himself:--

"In my first voyage from Boston to Philadelphia, being becalmed off Block Island, our crew employed themselves in catching cod, and hauled up a great number. Till then, I had stuck to my resolution to eat nothing that had had life; and on this occasion I considered, according to my master Tryon, the taking every fish as a kind of unprovoked murder, since none of them had nor could do us any injury that might justify this ma.s.sacre. All this seemed very reasonable. But I had been formerly a great lover of fish, and when it came out of the frying-pan, it smelt admirably well. I balanced some time between principle and inclination, till recollecting that, when the fish were opened, I saw smaller fish taken out of their stomachs; then, thought I, 'If you eat one another, I don't see why we may not eat you.' So I dined upon cod very heartily, and have since continued to eat as other people; returning only now and then to a vegetable diet. So convenient a thing it is to be a _reasonable creature_, since it enables one to find or make a _reason_ for everything one has a mind to do."

The time was now approaching for the Annis to sail, and Benjamin began to realize the trial of leaving his friends. A new tie now bound him to Philadelphia. A mutual affection existed between Miss Read and himself, and it had ripened into sincere and ardent love. He desired a formal engagement with her before his departure, but her mother interposed.

"Both of you are too young," said she,--"only eighteen! You cannot tell what changes may occur before you are old enough to be married."

"But that need not have anything to do with an engagement," said Benjamin. "We only pledge ourselves to marry each other at some future time."

"And why do you deem such a pledge necessary?" asked the good mother.

"Simply because 'a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush,'"

replied Benjamin, with his face all wreathed with smiles.

"But I have not quite satisfied myself that it is best to give up my daughter to a printer," added Mrs. Read.

"How so?" asked Benjamin, with some anxiety.

"Because," she replied, "there are already several printing-offices in the country, and I doubt whether another can be supported."

"If I cannot support her by the printing business," answered Benjamin, "then I will do it some other way."

"I have no doubt of your good intentions; but you may not realize the fulfilment of all your hopes. I think you had better leave the matter as it is until you return from England, and see how you are prospered."

The old lady won the day, and the young couple agreed to proceed no further at present.

The above reference to the fact that only four or five printing-offices existed in America at that time, may serve to exhibit its rapid growth. For in 1840, there were _one thousand five hundred and fifty-seven_ of them, and now probably there are twice that number.

"I am going to England with you, Benjamin," said Ralph one day, as they met. "Don't you believe it?"

"It is almost too good news to believe," replied Benjamin. "But I should be glad of your company, I a.s.sure you."

"It is true," continued Ralph. "I was not jesting when I told you, the other day, that I meant to go if I could."

"Then you are really in earnest? You mean to go?"

"To be sure I do. I have fully decided to go."

Benjamin did not ask him what he was going for; but, from some remarks he heard him make previously, he inferred that he was going out to establish a correspondence, and obtain goods to sell on commission.

Nor did he learn to the contrary until after they arrived in London, when Ralph informed him that he did not intend to return,--that he had experienced some trouble with his wife's relations, and he was going away to escape from it, leaving his wife and child to be cared for by her friends.

As the time of their departure drew near, Benjamin called upon the Governor for letters of introduction and credit, which he had promised, but they were not ready. He called again, and they were still unwritten. At last, just as he was leaving, he called at his door, and his secretary, Dr. Baird, came out, and said: "The Governor is engaged upon important business now, but he will be at Newcastle before the Annis reaches there, and will deliver the letters to you there."

As soon as they reached Newcastle, Benjamin went to the Governor's lodgings for the letters, but was told by his secretary that he was engaged, and should be under the necessity of sending the letters to him on board the s.h.i.+p, before she weighed anchor. Benjamin was somewhat puzzled by this unexpected turn of affairs, but still he did not dream of deception or dishonesty. He returned to the vessel, and awaited her departure. Soon after her canvas was flung to the breeze, he went to the captain and inquired for the letters.

"I understand," said he, "that Colonel French brought letters on board from the Governor. I suppose some of them are directed to my care."

"Yes," replied the captain, "Colonel French brought a parcel of letters on board, and they were all put into the bag with others, so that I cannot tell whether any of them are for you or not. But you shall have an opportunity, before we reach England, of looking them over for yourself."

"I thank you," answered Benjamin; "that will be all that is necessary;" and he yielded himself up to enjoyment for the remainder of the voyage, without the least suspicion of disappointment and trouble.

When they entered the English Channel, the captain, true to his promise, allowed Benjamin to examine the bag of letters. He found several on which his name was written, as under his care, and some others he judged, from the handwriting, came from the Governor. One of them was addressed to Baskett, the King's printer, and another to a stationer, and these two, Benjamin was confident, were for him to take. In all he took seven or eight from the bag.

They arrived in London on the 24th of December, 1724, when Benjamin lacked about a month of being nineteen years old. Soon after he landed, he called upon the stationer to whom one of the letters was directed: "A letter, sir, from Governor Keith, of Pennsylvania, America!"

"I don't know such a person," replied the stationer, at the same time receiving the letter.

"O, this is from Riddlesden!" said he, on opening it. "I have lately found him to be a complete rascal, and I will have nothing to do with him, nor receive any letters from him;" and he handed back the letter to Benjamin, turned upon his heel, and left to wait upon a customer.

Benjamin was astonished and mortified. He had not the least suspicion that he was bearing any other than the Governor's letter, and he was almost bewildered for a moment. The thought flashed into his mind that the Governor had deceived him. In a few moments his thoughts brought together the acts of the Governor in the matter, and now he could see clearly evidence of insincerity and duplicity. He immediately sought out Mr. Denham, a merchant, who came over in the Annis with him, and gave him a history of the affair.

"Governor Keith is a notorious deceiver," said Mr. Denham. "I do not think he wrote a single letter for you, nor intended to do it. He has been deceiving you from beginning to end."

"He pretended to have many acquaintances here," added Benjamin, "to whom he promised to give me letters of credit, and I supposed that they would render me valuable a.s.sistance."

"Letters of credit!" exclaimed Denham. "It is a ludicrous idea. How could he write letters of credit, when he has no credit of his own to give? No one who knows him has the least confidence in his character.

There is no dependence to be placed upon him in anything. He is entirely irresponsible."

"What, then, shall I do?" asked Benjamin with evident concern. "Here I am among strangers without the means of returning, and what shall I do?"

"I advise you to get employment in a printing-office here for the present. Among the printers here you will improve yourself, and, when you return to America, you will set up to greater advantage."

There was no alternative left for Benjamin but to find work where he could, and make the best of it. Again he had "paid too dear for the whistle," and must suffer for it. He took lodgings with Ralph in Little Britain, at three s.h.i.+llings and sixpence a week, and very soon obtained work at Palmer's famous printing-house in Bartholomew Close, where he laboured nearly a year. Ralph was not so successful in getting a situation. He made application here and there, but in vain; and, after several weeks of fruitless attempts at securing a place, he decided to leave London, and teach a country school. Previously, however, in company with Benjamin, he spent much time at plays and public amus.e.m.e.nts. This was rather strange, since neither of them had been wont to waste their time and money in this way; and years after, Benjamin spoke of it as a great error of his life, which he deeply regretted. But Ralph's departure put an end to this objectionable pleasure-seeking, and Benjamin returned to his studious habits when out of the office.

At this time, the ability to compose which he had carefully nurtured proved of great a.s.sistance to him. He was employed in the printing of Wollaston's "Religion of Nature," when he took exceptions to some of his reasoning, and wrote a dissertation thereon, and printed it, with the t.i.tle, "A DISSERTATION ON LIBERTY AND NECESSITY, PLEASURE AND PAIN." This pamphlet fell into the hands of one Lyons, a surgeon, author of a book ent.i.tled "The Infallibility of Human Judgment," and he was so much pleased with it, that he sought out the author, and showed him marked attention. He introduced him to Dr. Mandeville, author of the "Fable of the Bees," and to Dr. Pemberton, who promised to take him to see Sir Isaac Newton. Sir Hans Sloane invited him to his house in Bloomsbury Square, and showed him all his curiosities. In this way, the small pamphlet which he wrote introduced him to distinguished men, which was of much advantage to him.