A	>>	B	>>	C	>>	D	>>	E
F	>>	G	>>	H	>>	I	>>	J
K	>>	L	>>	M	>>	N	>>	O
P	>>	R	>>		S	>>		T
U	>>		V			>>		W

Alexander Maclaren - "Expositions of Holy Scripture"

James Cowan - "Daybreak: A Romance of an Old World"

Fritz Muller - "Facts and Arguments for Darwin"

Nathaniel Hawthorne - "Sketches From Memory (From Mosses From An Old Manse)"

From Boyhood to Manhood

W >> William M. Thayer >> From Boyhood to Manhood




Then, reading the letter through, he went on:

"And this very letter proves that he is an arrant knave. For here is
proof of a conspiracy against Mr. Hamilton, who was booked to sail
with Captain Annis, and Keith is in it." Denham read the letter to
Benjamin, explaining its meaning as he went along, for he was well
posted about Keith and the villainous attorney.

"You should keep this letter, Franklin, and show it to Mr. Hamilton
when he comes," added Denham. "Hamilton will come just as soon as he
can. He came aboard our ship with his son, intending to come; but a
party appeared, offering him a very large fee to wait and conduct a
case in court, and he consented. He is the greatest lawyer in
Pennsylvania. Keep the letter and give it to him."

We may say here, once for all, that Benjamin did keep the letter until
the arrival of Mr. Hamilton, several months later, when he presented
it to him, for which favor Hamilton was very grateful, and became
Benjamin's life-long friend.

"But what can I do, Mr. Denham?" asked Benjamin. "I am here a stranger
in a strange city, with very little money. What would you advise me to
do?"

"I do not see but one thing that you can do just now. You are a
printer, and you can get work without doubt in some printing office
until you see fit to return."

"I thought of that; but it occurred to me that an American printer
would be at a discount here, where the printing business is so much
better understood," suggested Benjamin.

"You can get over that difficulty quickly by showing them what you can
do," answered Mr. Denham. "You have more intelligence and culture than
most of the English printers; and that will help you."

"I will lose no time in making an application for a place," said
Benjamin. "I am under obligations to you for your interest in me."

"It may prove of great advantage to you to have this opportunity to
become familiar with printing in London," continued Mr. Denham. "You
can perfect yourself in the art against the time you return, and set
up business in Philadelphia. So you may get some good out of your
trials, after all. 'It is an ill wind that blows no one any good.'"

"It looks so, certainly," Benjamin answered. "I will accept your
advice, and see what I can do."

Benjamin had _paid too dear for the whistle_ again; but he made the
best of it. First of all, he found a permanent boarding-place for
himself and Ralph, where the charges were in proportion to his
pecuniary ability. It was in Little Britain Street; and the weekly
charge was only three shillings and sixpence. Then both started out in
search of work. Benjamin went direct to Palmer's famous printing house
in Bartholomew Close, where fifty hands were then employed, and
applied for a situation.

"What experience have you had?" inquired the overseer.

"Several years. I learned the business of my brother, James Franklin,
in Boston, America; and he came to your country and learned it, before
setting up the business in his own country."

"You ought to understand it, then. But why do you seek work in this
country?"

"I did not come to London for work, but for an outfit with which to
establish the business in Philadelphia." And Benjamin rehearsed his
arrangement with Governor Keith, and the treachery which had been
practised upon him, which interested the manager very much, and, at
the same time, won his sympathy.

"Though Governor Keith proved so treacherous to you, the facts show
his confidence in your ability as a printer," he remarked; "and,
surely, in these misfortunes, a friend in need is a friend indeed. I
think I can find something for you to do."

"You can try me, and I shall be very thankful for the chance,"
Benjamin answered. "I have no desire to work for any man unless I can
suit him."

"That is an honorable view of the matter; and I have no doubt of your
ability to satisfy me. You can come at once, and I will give you a
position."

They agreed upon wages that were satisfactory to Benjamin, and the
next day he went to work. The truth was, that the boss of Palmer's
printing house was very much pleased with Benjamin's appearance. He
saw at once that he was a young man of uncommon ability. He was
surprised to learn that he was not quite nineteen years of age, since
his appearance was that of a young man of twenty-two. Therefore, he
was not only desirous of aiding him in his embarrassing situation, but
he was glad to employ a young man of so much promise.

Ralph was not so successful. Here and there he applied for work, but
no one appeared to want him. Benjamin rendered him all the assistance
possible evenings; but his efforts met with no success. In advanced
life, Benjamin spoke of Ralph's efforts as follows:

"He first endeavored to get into the playhouse, believing himself
qualified for an actor; but Wilkes, to whom he applied, advised him
candidly not to think of that employment, as it was impossible he
should succeed in it. Then he proposed to Roberts, a publisher in
Pater Noster Row, to write for him a weekly paper like the
_Spectator_, on certain conditions; which Roberts did not approve.
Then he endeavored to get employment as a hackney writer, to copy for
the stationers and lawyers about the Temple; but could not find a
vacancy."

Ralph possessed considerable ability as an amateur player of tragedy
or comedy; and he was quite a racy writer, also; hence his application
for a situation as above. Benjamin was familiar with his
qualifications on the lines mentioned, and seconded his efforts as
best he could; but all to no purpose.

As Ralph had no money or work, Benjamin was obliged to support him. He
paid his board, and loaned him small sums from time to time, so that
he could maintain the appearance of a respectable citizen. But he was
another elephant on Benjamin's hands. The weeks multiplied, and still
Ralph had no employment. He was a constant bill of expense. Willing to
work, abhorring a life of idleness, his condition and prospects were a
torment to himself. He was more troubled even than Benjamin over his
misfortune. At length, however, he announced:

"I am going to put an end to this sort of a life, Ben. I have stood it
as long as I can. I am going out into the country to find a school to
teach. I am told that I can easily find one."

"Not a bad idea, in the circumstances," replied Benjamin. "Teaching is
an honorable and useful business; and it will make you friends."

"I should much prefer to remain in this city and find a more congenial
situation; but beggars can't be choosers, and so I have concluded to
make the best of it. I am completely discouraged in trying for work in
London." Ralph spoke as he felt, for he had become disheartened.

"It seems strange, almost," continued Benjamin "that you can find no
situation of any sort in this great city, where----"

"I was not born under a lucky star, as you were, Ben," interrupted
Ralph.

"My experience with Governor Keith doesn't show much of a star any
way," rejoined Benjamin. "Certainly, it is not a lucky one, nor a
morning star; if it is a star at all, it must be an _evening_ star,
seen only when it is getting dark."

"I wish I could accept disappointment and defeat as philosophically as
you can, Ben; but I can't. It is quite impossible for me to make the
best out of the worst; but you can."

"It is the way I am made, no doubt," said Benjamin in reply. "I never
could make any thing by fretting."

"Nor any body else," quickly answered Ralph, "and still I fret and
worry as if thereby I could mend the matter. But I am going to strike
out for a school, and leave London to suffer the consequences of not
employing me."

"That is philosophical, sure," added Benjamin.

The school was secured within a short time, and Ralph became a
schoolmaster a few miles out of London. Benjamin continued to serve in
the Palmer printing house, where he gave satisfaction, and made his
mark, as we shall see.




XXVII.


"OUR WATER-DRINKER."

A letter from Ralph to Benjamin informed the latter that the former
was settled in a small village called Berkshire, where he was teaching
about a dozen boys in reading and writing at a sixpence each per week,
--not a very flattering position, but, in the circumstances, better
than none.

What surprised Benjamin, however, was that Ralph had changed his name,
and was known in that village as Franklin. He had assumed Franklin's
name, thinking that such a position was not honorable for James Ralph
to occupy. At first, Benjamin was somewhat displeased to find himself
scattered about in such a way, printer and schoolmaster, and he knew
not what next. But, on the whole, he concluded to let the matter rest;
and, if his old friend could get success out of his name, allow him to
do it. So he corresponded with him from time to time, directing his
letters to "Mr. Franklin, schoolmaster," as Ralph desired.

It was not long before Benjamin began to receive instalments of an
epic poem which Ralph was composing, with the request to examine and
return remarks and corrections. Benjamin did examine and return it,
with the advice to cease writing epic poems and attend to his
legitimate business or get into some other. But it was of no use, the
poem continued to come by instalments.

At this juncture, too, another trial was added to his singular
experience. Ralph's English wife called upon him for help. The
following is Franklin's account of the manner in which Ralph came into
these new relations:

"In our house lodged a young woman, a milliner, who, I think, had a
shop in the Cloisters. She had been genteelly bred, was sensible,
lively, and of a most pleasing conversation. Ralph read plays to her
in the evenings, they grew intimate, she took another lodging, and he
followed her. They lived together some time, but he being still out of
business, and her income not sufficient to maintain them with her
child, he took a resolution of going from London to try for a country
school."

"I need help, and know not where to go except to you," said Mrs.
Ralph; "indeed, James told me to apply to you."

"I recall," replied Benjamin, "that he asked me in one of his letters
to see that you were not in want. I am not in circumstances to do much
for you, but I will cheerfully do what I can."

"I shall be very much obliged for the smallest favor. My wants are
few, and I can make a little assistance go a good way."

Benjamin relieved her wants, and from that time continued to call upon
her, to see that she was made comfortable and to enjoy her company.
These demands upon his purse kept it drained to the last cent all the
time, so that he could lay nothing by for himself. He could see no way
out of his trouble. He must continue penniless, or let Ralph and his
family suffer. But just then an indiscreet act on his part offended
Ralph, who, coming to London for a day or two, said to Benjamin:

"I consider myself under no obligations to you whatever from this
time. I shall ask no more favors of you for myself or family, and will
have nothing more to do with you."

"Very well," replied Benjamin, "I will so understand it."

In this way Benjamin was relieved of a great burden unexpectedly.
Incumbrances thus removed, he devoted himself with remarkable energy
and industry to his business and self-improvement.

About this time Benjamin was offered larger pay at Watts' printing
house, near Lincoln's Inn Fields, and he removed thither. He changed
his boarding-place, also, to Duke Street, opposite the Romish chapel.

Next door to Benjamin's lodgings was a bookstore kept by one Wilcox.
He had an immense collection of second-hand books, in which, of
course, Benjamin became much interested, spending his leisure time
here.

"I have not the money to make purchases," he said to Wilcox. "I wish I
had. There are so many valuable books here, and they are so cheap,
that I wish I was able to make many of them my own."

"Well, you are at liberty to spend all the time you can reading them
here," answered Wilcox, who had already formed a high opinion of his
abilities. "Perhaps some day you will be able to own some of them."

"You are very kind indeed, Mr. Wilcox, and I shall avail myself of
your generosity to make the acquaintance of some of these authors."

Benjamin had already rehearsed the story of the fraud through which he
became a London printer, so that Wilcox understood the reason that he
was penniless.

"Glad to see you here any time; feel perfectly at home, and get all
the good you can out of these books," Wilcox added with great
kindness.

It was not long before an original idea about the use of those books
took possession of Benjamin's mind, and he made it known to the
bookseller.

"A new idea has struck me, Mr. Wilcox. I do not want to take so much
advantage of your generosity, and it has occurred to me that I can pay
you a sum we can agree upon to take out and read such books as I may
select. I mean, pay you a given amount on each book I read."

"I had not thought of that; it is an excellent plan, I think. We will
have no difficulty about the price," answered Wilcox.

"It will take me longer, of course, to read some books than it will
others," continued Benjamin; "but I am a rapid reader, and shall be as
expeditious as possible with each volume. And, also, I pledge myself
that each volume shall be returned in as good a condition as when I
take it out."

"That is fair; I accept the proposition."

The price per volume was agreed upon, and Benjamin reveled in books
every night. He never advanced more rapidly in intellectual
attainments than he did after this arrangement with Wilcox.

This is the first instance of loaning books for a price on record--a
practice that has become well-nigh universal since that day.

He had not been at Palmer's long before he was employed in composing
for the second edition of Wollaston's "Religion of Nature," which was
just the kind of a treatise to arouse his intellect, and to set him to
thinking and also to speculating.

"Poor reasoning!" he said to Mr. Watts; "very fallacious and
superficial, too."

"Ah!" replied Mr. Watts, considerably surprised that his new employee,
just over from a new and uncultivated country, should handle a
treatise like that so gingerly; "how is that? Rather a popular work,
that of Wollaston's."

"Popular enough it may be, but error is often popular. The work is
illogical, and not altogether in harmony with facts." Benjamin's
criticisms impressed Mr. Watts somewhat, though he thought he was
laboring under a mistake.

"Perhaps the trouble is in your own mind, and not in Wollaston's," he
suggested.

"That may be; but I am going to review it for my own satisfaction and
benefit," answered Benjamin.

"Then I will suspend judgment until I can read your review," said Mr.
Watts, at the same time being still more surprised that a youth of his
age should be so familiar with such topics.

Within a short time Benjamin had his review of "Religion of Nature"
prepared and printed, bearing the somewhat dignified title, "A
Dissertation on Liberty and Necessity, Pleasure and Pain," and it was
inscribed to his friend, James Ralph. A copy was submitted to Mr.
Watts for examination, and his opinion awaited with some anxiety.

"I confess that it is a remarkable production for a youth like you to
father--remarkable in its plan, thought, and reasoning--but it is no
credit to your principles," Mr. Watts said.

"How so?"

"It is really deistical in its position. You remember that I suggested
the trouble might be in yourself, instead of Wollaston; and it is, in
my judgment."

"Wherein is my reasoning illogical or incorrect?" Benjamin's use of
the Socratic method of reasoning still adhered to him.

"Any reasoning is illogical and fallacious that takes it for granted
that there is no God," answered Mr. Watts. "Without a God, we are
nowhere; and that is where your pamphlet is. There is ingenuity in it,
I grant; but it is false."

"From your standpoint, you mean, Mr. Watts?"

"Yes, if you please; but my standpoint is the Bible. Any reasoning
that ignores the Bible is fallacious. To pretend to understand the
things of this world without a God is abominable. 'The _fool_ hath
said in his heart, There is no God.'"

"Well, you are getting rather personal," Benjamin answered, roguishly.
"I suspect that you are rather puritanical in your notions; but I am
not."

"No, that is quite evident; nothing puritanical about your
Dissertation, but a plenty that is fanatical," retorted Mr. Watts.

"Much obliged for your opinion, so frankly expressed," added Benjamin,
as Mr. Watts turned to answer a call.

A short time after the publication of the foregoing Dissertation, a
London surgeon, by the name of Lyons, called at Watts' office.

"Is there a man at work in your printing house by the name of
Franklin--Benjamin Franklin?" he inquired of Mr. Watts.

"There is."

"Can I see him?"

"Yes, I will call him."

Benjamin was called and introduced to the gentleman, who said, holding
a pamphlet in his hand:

"Are you the author of this 'Dissertation on Liberty and Necessity,
Pleasure and Pain'?"

"I am, sir." Benjamin had received such a trimming from his employer,
that he was almost sure the stranger had come to stigmatize him for
writing that pamphlet. But he was soon relieved by the remark of
Lyons:

"I have read it with great interest, and have been very much profited
by it. I did not dream, however, that it was written by so young a
person as you are."

Benjamin thanked him for his complimentary words, and the surgeon went
on:

"I am the author of the book entitled, 'The Infallibility of Human
Judgment,' and I think our views harmonize in the main. I should be
pleased to loan you a copy if you care to read it."

"It will afford me real pleasure to read it, Doctor Lyons, and I shall
appreciate your favor."

"And when you have read it, I shall be glad to meet you, and compare
notes, and discuss the topics."

"Nothing will suit me better than that," added Benjamin.

Doctor Lyons frequently called on Benjamin to converse upon the
subject-matter of his pamphlet, and, at one time, he says, "He carried
me to the Horns, a pale-ale house in ------ Lane, Cheapside, and
introduced me to Doctor Mandeville, author of the 'Fable of the Bees,'
who had a club there, of which he was the soul, being a most
facetious, entertaining companion."

The religion in Benjamin's pamphlet, and that in Lyons' book, was well
suited to a "pale-ale house." It was so _pale_ as scarcely to be
discernible in either book or pamphlet--almost entirely faded out.
That was why Benjamin's pamphlet pleased Lyons so much--the religion
in it was not too much for a "pale-ale house."

Doctor Lyons introduced him, also, to one Doctor Pemberton, "at
Batson's Coffee-house," a kindred spirit, whose coffee was stronger
than his religion--a quick-witted, lively sort of a man. He was very
familiar with Benjamin.

"Glad to know that your mind is interested in subjects of so grave
importance," he said. "In a youth of your age it is evidence of a
strong mind and expanding intellect."

"Most of my friends do not regard my views with the favor you express;
they see evidence, rather, of mental weakness and distortion," said
Benjamin in reply.

"It is because they do not investigate for themselves. They are
content to receive opinions secondhand, labelled and fixed. How would
you like to number Sir Isaac Newton among your friends?" Doctor
Pemberton spoke as a man of authority.

"I should feel myself highly honored," answered Benjamin. "Do you know
him?"

"I have the honor of his acquaintance; and I will give you an
introduction at some future time."

"I shall accept your favor with thanks"; and Benjamin waited and
waited for the opportunity, but it never came, probably because Newton
could never be found in "an ale-house."

This was the outcome of Benjamin's literary venture; and the
pleasantest part of the whole was that he lived to see the folly of
his effort, especially its non-religious character. He became
satisfied that Mr. Watts was right when he declared the principles of
his Dissertation "abominable."

At another time, while Benjamin worked at Watts', Sir Hans Sloane
called upon him,--another notable London character of that day.
Benjamin was taken aback when he met him,--he could scarcely divine
what this titled Englishman could want of him.

"I have heard of you, Mr. Franklin, as recently from America, and I
have called to make your acquaintance," he said.

"Glad to meet you, Sir Hans," replied Benjamin, fully equal to the
occasion. "I am at your service."

"You are the author of a pamphlet called," and he gave the title, "are
you?"

"I am."

"I have not read it; but I have heard it discussed, and I concluded
that a youth of your age must possess a strong mind to undertake such
a treatise. And I understand that you brought many curiosities with
you to this country." Now, Sir Hans was getting to the subject that
was near to his heart; for he was a curiosity-hunter.

"A few only--very few," replied Benjamin.

"You have a purse, I understand, made of the _asbestos_, which
purifies by fire?"

"Yes, sir, I have."

"I should be delighted to have you call upon me in Bloomsbury Square,
and bring the purse; and I will show you _my_ great collection of
curiosities. I think you can spend a pleasant and profitable evening
in that way."

"I will do it with the greatest pleasure, and be obliged for the
opportunity," Benjamin answered.

And he did. The first opportunity he improved to take the asbestos
purse to Bloomsbury Square, where he had a splendid time examining the
best collection of curiosities he had ever dreamed of, and where he
discussed various topics of interest with the entertaining Sir Hans.

"Now," said the host, as Benjamin was about to leave, "I should be
glad to add the asbestos purse to my collection, and I will pay you
well for it," naming the amount.

"I will accommodate you and leave it." Benjamin was happy to add to
Sir Hans' collection, in the circumstances.

Benjamin felt the need of more physical exercise, so that when he
entered the printing house, he "took to working at press." He drank
water only; all other employees, about fifty of them, drank strong
beer. He was really a curiosity to them.

"Beer-guzzling is a detestable habit," he said to a fellow-workman,
"and it is a very expensive one, too, for a poor fellow like you."

"I could not do a decent day's work without beer. I drink it for
strength."

"So much the worse for you; beer strength is the worst sort of
weakness," continued Benjamin. "Just stop a moment and think what a
beer-barrel you make of yourself; a pint before breakfast, a pint at
breakfast, a pint between breakfast and dinner, a pint at dinner, a
pint in the afternoon, a pint at six o'clock, and a pint when you have
done work--almost a gallon each day! Why, I could not hold half as
much as that; I should run over."

"Then you don't believe a man can do more work for drinking strong
beer?"

"Of course I don't. I can do more work than any man in the
establishment, and I can lift more than any other man here; and I
drink nothing but water. If beer imparts the strength you imagine, any
one of you ought to do more work and lift more than I can; isn't that
so?"

The workmen had good reason to believe this; for Benjamin had kept his
eyes and ears open from the time he entered the printing house, and he
had learned just what the men thought about beer, why they drank it,
how much work they did, and how much they could lift. Without saying a
word about it, he took special pains to turn off a large amount of
work, and to lift more than his fellow-workmen. For example, he would
carry two forms of type, one in each hand, up and down stairs, while
the other workmen carried but one with both hands. Therefore, Watts
(the name of the workman) knew that every thing Benjamin claimed about
strength was true.

"Are all Americans like you?" inquired the workman.

"No; too many of them are like you, I am sorry to say; they drink beer
and other intoxicants, that disqualify them for business. If more of
them would drink water, as I do, they would be far better off
physically and pecuniarily."

"Some of our best doctors claim that there is much nutriment in beer,"
he suggested.

"And every one of them knows that there is more nutriment in a
pennyworth of bread than there is in a whole gallon of beer.
Therefore, if you eat the bread and drink the water, you get more
strength."

The printer acknowledged that there was something in that.

"You see," continued Benjamin, "that all the nutriment there is in the
barley is destroyed to convert it into beer. Your beer is very dirty
water made bitter with malt, out of which nearly every particle of
nutriment has been squeezed. There is as much nourishment in dishwater
as there is in that stuff."

"Here, Jake, where are you?" called out another workman. "Bring on the
beer."

Jake was the ale-boy, whose business it was to supply the men with
beer from the ale-house.

"Another nuisance required by your beer business," exclaimed Benjamin.
"Better by far pay a boy double price to bring water from the well,
instead of bringing that stuff to absorb your money and sodden your
brain."

Author of ‘Conversations With God’ Admits Essay Wasn’t His
A personal Christmas tale posted online by the author Neale Donald Walsch turns out to belong to someone else — the writer Candy Chand, who first published it 10 years ago.

Books of The Times: When Labels Fought the Digital, and the Digital Won
Steve Knopper’s stark accounting of the mistakes major record labels have made in the digital era suggests they are largely responsible for their own demise.

Arts, Briefly: Winfrey Web Site Notes Fabricated Memoir
Oprah.com, the Web site of “The Oprah Winfrey Show,” has posted a disclaimer acknowledging that Herman Rosenblat admitted he had invented portions of his Holocaust memoir.