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    The

    PRINTER BOY.

    OR

    HOW

    BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
    MADE HIS MARK.

    AN EXAMPLE FOR YOUTH.

    BY

    WILLIAM. M. THAYER

    AUTHOR OF "THE BOBBIN BOY", "TALES FROM THE BIBLE", ETC.

    [Illustration: Medallion of Benjamin Franklin.]

    ILLUSTRATIONS BY
    JULIAN PORTCH

    ENGRAVED BY
    BALE & HOLMAN.

    LONDON
    JAMES HOGG & SONS

[Illustration: "How much did you give for your whistle!"--See page 4.]

PREFACE.

This book is designed to illustrate the familiar maxim, that "THE BOY
IS FATHER TO THE MAN." The early life of Franklin is sketched from his
childhood to the time he was established in business, thus showing
what he was in boyhood and youth; and the achievements of his manhood
are summed up in a closing chapter, to substantiate the truth of the
above proverb.

The author believes that the lives of distinguished men may be
incorporated into a story, uniting narrative and dialogue so as to be
more attractive to the young. John Bunyan was the first to adopt this
style, and his inimitable Pilgrim's Progress charms the young reader,
not only by its graphic imagery, but also by its alternation of
narrative and dialogue. Since his day, others have adopted a similar
style, particularly in works of fiction, with success. Why may not
truth appear in such a dress as successfully as fiction? Why may not
_actual_ lives be presented in this manner as vividly as _imaginary_
ones? The young mind will seize upon a truth or fact that is conveyed
in a story, when it will remain wholly indifferent to it as it appears
in a simple statement. So the life of an eminent man may engage the
attention of this class, if he is made to speak and act for himself,
when they would not be interested in it, if it were presented to them
in a plain summary of facts.

In this volume, the actual, early life of Franklin is wrought into a
story. The imagination has done no more than weave the facts of his
boyhood and youth into a "tale of real life." It makes Benjamin and
his associates speak and do what biographers say they spoke and did.
It simply paints the scenes and acts of which other writers have
_told_.

A conspicuous place is given in the work to the maxims of Franklin,
for the purpose of conveying important lessons in regard to the
formation of character, and thus stimulating the young in the path of
well-doing. Whole volumes of meaning are condensed into many of his
wise and pithy sayings.

                                                  W. M. T.

CONTENTS

  CHAPTER I.

  THE WHISTLE.

  The Holiday--The Coppers in Benjamin Franklin's Pocket--Inquiry--
  Bounding Out--The Toy-Shop Then and Now--The Boy and his
  Whistle--Resolved to Purchase--The Bargain--Going Home--Making
  Music--Discussion about the Price--A Pocketful of Good Things--
  Benjamin crying over his Whistle--A Benefit--What Franklin said
  of it Sixty Years after--Boys do not Learn from the Past--Other
  Ways of paying too dear for a Whistle--Deceit and Falsehood--
  Tippling--Worldly Pleasure                            1-8

  CHAPTER II.

  AT SCHOOL.

  Talk about School--Brothers at Trades--Benjamin for the Church--
  Early learned to Read--Long Process of Preparation for the
  Ministry--"Uncle Benjamin's" Remarks and Offer--Who is "Uncle
  Benjamin"--A Hundred Years Ago--When Benjamin was Born--Baptized on
  Same Day he was Born--The Record--Description of his Birthplace--
  Early Love of Books--His Father's Violin--Poor but Industrious--
  Seventeen Children--Decision to Enter School--Where it was, and by
  Whom kept--His Rapid Progress--Mr. Franklin's Trust in Providence--
  At the Head of his Class--The Boy Father to the Man--Daniel
  Webster--David Rittenhouse and George Stephenson--Hopes of
  Benjamin                                                     9-18

  CHAPTER III.

  A CHANGE.

  Conversation between Mr. and Mrs. Franklin--Decision to Remove
  Benjamin from School--Trials of Ministers--Bread before
  Learning--Subject opened to Benjamin--His Feelings--Character of
  Schools then--Mr. Brownwell's Writing-school--Benjamin's
  Obedience--His Father Strict--Keeping the Sabbath--Lore and Respect
  for his Father--Rebuking the Inquisitive Landlord--Erecting Marble
  Stone to the Memory of his Parents--The Stone replaced by Citizens
  of Boston--Obedience of the Peel Boys--Harry Garland--Stephenson's
  Noble Act to his Parents--The Eight Brothers at Inauguration of the
  Franklin Statue--Progress in Penmanship--Beloved by Teacher    19-28

  CHAPTER IV.

  MAKING CANDLES.

  Put to Candle-making at Ten Years of Age--His Father a Tallow-
  chandler--Benjamin opposed to it--Importance of Industry--His
  Father's Hive without Drones--Benjamin's Maxims about Industry in
  Later Life--"The used key always bright."--"Diligence the Mother of
  Good Luck"--Bad Luck--Bible View--No Schooling after Ten Years of
  Age--Cutting Candle-wicks--Where was the Shop--Benjamin desires to
  go to Sea--His Mother's Veto--An Older Brother went to Sea--Talk
  with his Father--His Father's Veto--Promise of another Pursuit--
  Respect for a Paternal "No"--His Sports on the Water--No Prospect
  of Fame--Giotti Marking in the Sand--Webster's Pocket-handkerchief--
  Roger Sherman at his Bench--Boys not excused from School by these
  Examples--Benefit of a Little Knowledge--Saved Benjamin Russell
  in Thunder-storm--How Stephenson felt for his Son              29-43

  CHAPTER V.

  THE ROGUE'S WHARF.

  "All Abroad"--The Quagmire--Proposal to build a Wharf--The Heap of
  Stones--Plan to steal them--Time set in the Evening--The Plan
  executed--The Wharf done--Keeping the Secret--Benjamin's Father
  finds him out--Benjamin in a tight place--Promises to do better--How
  the Boys were found out--Benjamin's Reading Habits--What Books
  liked--Mather's "Essays to Do Good"--Letter to Mather's Son--Boys
  should be at Home in Evenings--Advantage of Reading--Letter to a
  Girl on the Subject                                            44-54

  CHAPTER VI.

  TABLE TALK.

  Interview with a Friend--His Ancestors--Their Hardships--Denied
  Liberty of Conscience--The Bible under the Stool--Leaving the Church
  of England--Emigration for Religious Freedom--Conversation on Useful
  Themes at Table--No Complaints allowed about Food--Guests introduced
  and sensible Remarks made--Effect on Benjamin--The Washburne
  Family--Benefit of Good Conversation--His Father's Remarks about
  Food--Benjamin Temperate in Eating and Drinking--"The Water-
  American"--No Temperance Societies then--Table Talk now--A
  Table Scene                                                    55-63

  CHAPTER VII.

  CHOOSING A TRADE.

  Still Opposed to Candle-making--A Dirty, Simple Business--Wants to
  do something that requires Ingenuity--His Father and Mother
  conferring together--"A rolling stone gathers no moss"--Afraid he
  will go to Sea--Benjamin's Views and Maxims--Opportunity to choose a
  Trade--Going to see different Trades--Devotes a Day to it--Joiners',
  Turners', and Bricklayers' Work--Cutlery Shop, his Cousin's--Which
  Trade he chose--His Father's Decision--Arrangement to learn to make
  Cutlery--Wise to Consult Taste and Tact of Benjamin--Handel the
  Musician--Sir Joshua Reynolds--Father of John Smeaton--Opposing a
  Child's Bent of Mind                                           64-75

  CHAPTER VIII.

  THE PRINTER-BOY.

  Taken Away from Cousin Samuel--His Brother's Return from  England--
  Setting Up the Printing Business--Proposal to Benjamin--A Long
  Apprenticeship--Benjamin disposed to turn Printer-boy--His Brother's
  Offer to Teach Him the Art of Printing--Borrowing Books to read,
  and sitting up at Night--Mr. Adams's Library and his Kindness--
  Going to it for Books--Scarcity of Books--Compared with now--Two
  and a half Books made in a Minute--No Libraries then--Their
  enormous Size now--Habit of Reading made him punctual--Example of
  Lord Brougham                                                  76-84

  CHAPTER IX.

  FIRST LITERARY ENTERPRISE.

  A Piece of Poetry--Pronounced Good--Proposition to Print his
  Articles--"The Lighthouse Tragedy"--A Sailor's Song--Printing
  them--Selling them in the Streets--A Successful Enterprise--His
  Father opposes--Condemns Poetry in general and Benjamin's in
  particular--A severe Rebuke--Crestfallen--Conference with James--
  His Father's Censure a Benefit--Practice of writing Composition
  excellent--How it Benefited Benjamin, even Pecuniarily--The Farmer's
  Son and Minister                                               85-92

  CHAPTER X.

  THE DISPUTE.

  Dispute with John Collins--A Bookish Fellow--The Education of
  Girls--The Controversial Correspondence--His Father finds the
  Letters--His Criticisms--Collins _versus_ Benjamin--Bought a Copy of
  the Spectator and studied it laboriously--Sorry that he did not
  continue to write Poetry--His Father's Counsel--His Economy of
  Time--A Book always by his side--His Maxims on this Subject--
  Violating the Sabbath to gain Time for Study--Useful Conversation
  and Talking Nonsense--Hundreds ruined by a similar cause--Walter
  Scott hiding Novels from his Father--Pope going to the Theatre--
  Exceptions to the General Rule                                93-103

  CHAPTER XI.

  PLAIN FARE.

  Proposition to board Himself--Became a Vegetarian by Reading Tryon's
  Book--Why he did it--How much Money he saved by doing it--Spent it
  for Books--How much Time saved also--Cocker's Arithmetic--Other
  Books read at odd moments--His Plan to save Time--His Maxims on
  saving Time--Aim to be Useful--The English Grammar--Shaftesbury's
  Works--Benjamin a Doubter--Makes known his Doubts to Collins--Danger
  of Reading Attacks upon the Gospel                           104-113

  CHAPTER XII.

  THE NEWSPAPER.

  Starting the Third Newspaper in America--Opposition to it--Number of
  Newspapers now--Forty Million Sheets from Eight Presses--Seventy-one
  Miles a day of Newspapers from One Office--Almost enough to reach
  around the Earth in a Year--Weigh these Papers--Four Million Pounds
  in a Year--Two Thousand Two-Horse Loads--The New England Courant
  started--Printer, News-carrier, and Collector--The Club--Incited to
  write an Article--Tucks it under Printing-office Door--Hears it
  favourably commented on--Writes other Articles--This an Incident
  that decides his Career--Canning at Eton and the
  "Microcosm"--Similar Paper in Seminaries now                 114-122

  CHAPTER XIII.

  THE CAT OUT OF THE BAG.

  Eager to Own the Pieces--Discloses the Authorship to James--
  Interview with the Club--Surprise that Benjamin wrote them--
  Treated with Attention by the Club--Oppressed by James--Trouble
  with him--Benjamin resolves to leave him--The Printing-office
  furnishes many Scholars--A New England Divine--Benjamin directed
  in the Path to which his Native Endowments pointed--So of Lord
  Nelson--Anecdote of him--Buxton, Wilberforce, and Others--Example
  of the Author of the "Optic Library"                         123-129

  CHAPTER XIV.

  THE ARREST.

  Action of General Court to Arrest James Franklin for Libel--The
  Legislative Order--James imprisoned four weeks, and Benjamin
  arrested, but discharged--The immediate Cause of the Arrest--Meeting
  of the Club--Decision to publish the Paper in Benjamin's Name--
  Shrewd Evasion--Youngest Conductor of a Paper who ever lived--His
  Thrusts at the Government--Benjamin born in troublous Times--
  Attacks and Massacres by the Savages--Prepared thereby to act
  in achieving Independence--Bears in Boston                   130-136

  CHAPTER XV.

  THE RUNAWAY.

  A Quarrel--Asserting his Freedom--Statement of the Case--Appeal to
  his Father--His Father's Decision--Leaves his Brother--Fails to get
  Work--Charged with being an Infidel--Plans to run away--Conference
  with Collins--His Plan to get away--Collins's Talk with the Captain
  of a New York Sloop, and his Base Lie--Benjamin Boards the
  Sloop--Arrival in New York--His lonely Condition--Guilt of a
  Runaway--Quarrel between Brothers painful--Case of William
  Hutton--Lines of Dr. Watts                                   137-147

  CHAPTER XVI.

  ANOTHER TRIP AND ITS TRIALS.

  Calls on Printer Bradford in New York--No Work--Recommended to go to
  Philadelphia--Arranges for the Trip--Starts for Philadelphia--The
  Drunken Dutchman--His wet Volume and Bottle--Struck by a Squall--A
  sad Night off Long Island--Benjamin's Feelings--The next morning--
  Storm subsides--Next night on shore--Advantage of a little Reading--
  Boys lose nothing by spending leisure Hours in Reading--The Young
  Man in Maine--Discipline of the Mind--Case of Gibbon--What
  Boys say--Sir Walter Scott in Boyhood, and his warning Words--
  Benjamin leaving Amboy--Fifty Miles on Foot--Suspected of
  being a Runaway--Reaches the Quack Doctor's Tavern--Arrival at
  Burlington--The Gingerbread Woman--The Boat gone--Going back to the
  Gingerbread Woman--His Walk--The unexpected Boat and his Passage--In
  Cooper's Creek at Midnight--Reached Philadelphia on Sunday
  Morning--The Shilling--The Boy and his Loaf--Going up Market Street
  with a Baker's Loaf under each Arm--Miss Read--Asleep in a Quaker
  Church--Suspected again of being a Runaway--First Night in
  Philadelphia                                                 148-166

  CHAPTER XVII.

  GETTING WORK.

  Call upon Andrew Bradford--His Surprise--Disappointment--Directed to
  Keimer--The Interview--Advantage of Thoroughness--Benjamin did
  things well--Bradford's Talk with Keimer--Keimer ensnared--Benjamin
  makes a Disclosure--Keimer astonished--Repairing a Printing-press--
  At work for Keimer--Goes to Board at Mr. Read's--His Power of
  Observation--Stephenson like him--William Hutton again and
  his Dulcimer--Perseverance--Not proud--How many Boys would have
  done--Maxims                                                 167-175

  CHAPTER XVIII.

  NEWS FROM HOME, AND RETURN.

  The Unexpected Letter--Benjamin's Reply--Governor Keith calls to see
  him--Surprise of Keimer--Invites him to the Tavern--Advises him to
  set up Business for Himself--Benjamin's Objections overruled--Decides
  to return to Boston to ask his Father's Assistance--How the Governor
  learned of Benjamin--His Return to Boston--Joy at Home--His
  gentlemanly appearance--Goes to his Brother's Printing-office--
  Cold Reception--Interview with the Workmen--Exhibition of his Silver
  Coin--His Watch--The Dollar "Treat"--James incensed--Interview with
  his Mother--Stating Business to his Father, and giving him the
  Governor's Letter--His Father's Talk with Captain Homes--His
  Father's Denial--Collins returns with him                    176-178

  CHAPTER XIX.

  BACK AGAIN.

  Sails for New York--Stops at Newport and visits his Brother--The New
  Passengers--The Old Quaker Lady's Attention--A Narrow Escape--Arrival
  in New York--Collins there first and intoxicated--Makes a Confession
  to Benjamin--Owns that he gambles--Loses all his Money--Message from
  Governor Burnet--Benjamin goes to see him--Trip to Philadelphia--
  Collects Vernon's Debt--Takes Collins to board with him--Throws
  Collins into the River Delaware--The Fate of Collins--Interview
  with Governor Keith--The Governor promises to set him up in
  Business.                                                    188-195

  CHAPTER XX.

  A LITERARY GAME.

  The Three Associates--Their Characters--Discussion about Poets and
  Poetry--A Proposition to Paraphrase the Eighteenth Psalm--Osborne's
  Prejudice, and how to prove him--Benjamin reads Ralph's Piece as his
  own--The Success of the Ruse--Subsequent Interview of Benjamin and
  Ralph--Their Delight over the Result--The Exposure of Osborne at the
  next Meeting--His Mortification--Fate of Watson and Osborne--
  Advantage of such Literary Clubs                             196-203

  CHAPTER XXI.

  GOING TO ENGLAND.

  Interview with Governor Keith--Arrangements to go to England in the
  Annis--Only one vessel a year to sail--Still works for Keimer--The
  latter a singular Man--Experiment of a Vegetable Diet--Keimer's
  Abhorrence of it--Eats the whole of a Pig at last--How Benjamin came
  to relinquish a Vegetable Diet--Courting Miss Read--Her Mother
  objects to Engagement--Ralph resolves to go with him--Four or Five
  Printing-offices then, and Two or Three Thousand now--The Governor's
  Letters--Set Sail--Arrival in London--Discovers that his Letters are
  Worthless--The Governor a Deceiver--Tells his Story to Denham--Goes
  to Work in a Printing-office--An Advantage of written Composition--
  His "Dissertation on Liberty and Necessity, Pleasure and Pain"--Won
  him Fame--Bargain with a Bookseller--Beer-drinking in the Office--
  Benjamin's Opposition to it--He wrought a Reform--His Firmness and
  Independence--Swimming--Drawn a Mile by his Kite on the Water--
  Advised to open a Swimming-School--Decides on Returning to
  America--A Scene forty years after                           204-219

  CHAPTER XXII.

  FAREWELL TO ENGLAND.

  Arrival in Philadelphia--Calls on Keimer--Meets Governor Keith in
  the Street--Interview with Miss Read--His want of Fidelity--Denham
  opened a Store, and Benjamin was his Clerk--The Sickness of
  both--Denham dies--Benjamin thrown out of Business--Returns to his
  Trade, and works for Keimer--Legacy from Denham--His Fidelity always
  pleased his Employers--Many Youth do not care for the Employer's
  Success--Fidelity one Secret of Benjamin's Success--The Oxford
  Student--Dangers of Theatrical Amusements and Bad Company--Trouble
  with Keimer--Refuses to work for him--Arrangements to go into
  Business with Meredith                                       220-229

  CHAPTER XXIII.

  SETTING UP BUSINESS.

  The Inventory--Keimer's Message--At Burlington--Friends made
  there--Interview with the Surveyor-general--Opening his Office--
  Samuel Mickle--His Croaking--The Result--Poetical Notice in  the
  Printing-office--His Resolution in the Outset--His Industry--
  Prophecies about Failure--The Every-Night Club--The Lounger
  rebuked--Franklin never above his Business--Case of Judge
  Marshall--Economy--How he began to Keep House--Maxims--
  Integrity--The Slanderer turned away--Socrates and  Archelaus--
  Business prosperous--Hopes and Fears--Coleman and Grace, and
  their Offer--Talk with Meredith, and the Latter leaves       230-243

  CHAPTER XXIV.

  THE JUNTO.

  A Literary Club--What Franklin said of it--A New Proposition for a
  Library--Scarcity of Books--Franklin the Father of Circulating
  Libraries--Size of the First Library now--Questions asked by the
  "Junto"--Their Practical Character--Questions Discussed--Members
  limited to Twelve--No Improvement on the "Junto"--Franklin's Hand
  seen in it--All but one or two Members became Respectable, and most
  of them distinguished Men--Studying French, Italian, and Spanish--
  Playing Chess--Studying Latin--The "Junto" Copied in England--
  Canning--Franklin begins to think more of Religion--Doubting his
  Doubts--A Minister calls upon him--Goes to Meeting--The Fatal
  Sermon--Power of Conscience--Prays, and his Form of Prayer--
  His Book of Goodness--Rules of Conduct, and what they
  show                                                         244-253

  CHAPTER XXV.

  CONCLUSION.

  The Printer Boy and Man--His Brother reconciled to him--Rears his
  Nephew--Holds important Offices--Refuses Patent of a Stove--Gift to
  English Clergyman--Improves Street Lamps--Forms Fire-Company--
  Organizes Militia--A Schedule of the Offices he filled and the
  Honours he Won--Honoured in France, and all Europe--Societies
  and Towns named after him--A Library Presented to the Town of
  Franklin, Mass.--His Remark about more Sense than  Sound--
  Washington's Praise of him--Action of Congress--Demonstrations
  of Respect in France--A Benjamin truly, and not a Ben-Oni--
  Regretting his early disregard of Religion--His Benevolence--
  Emptied his Pockets for Whitefield--His Humanity, and Words of
  a Biographer--His Reverence for God in High Places--Proposed the
  First Fast--Advocates Prayers in the National Convention--The
  Young Man at his Death-bed--His Last Words for the Bible     254-264

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

  "HOW MUCH DID YOU GIVE FOR YOUR WHISTLE?"             _Frontispiece_

  MEDALLION OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN                      _Vignette Title_

  THE ROGUE'S WHARF                                          _Page_ 44

  THE MYSTERIOUS CONTRIBUTOR                                       123

  FRANKLIN SAVING THE DUTCHMAN                                     149

  MISS READ'S FIRST GLIMPSE OF HER FUTURE HUSBAND                  162

  ANECDOTE OF DR. MATHER AND FRANKLIN--HUMILITY "BEATEN IN!"       186

  "SAWDUST PUDDING"--ANECDOTE OF FRANKLIN'S INDEPENDENCE           242

THE PRINTER-BOY.

CHAPTER I.

THE WHISTLE.

It was a bright, welcome holiday to little Benjamin Franklin, when his
kind parents put some coppers into his pocket, to spend as he saw fit.
Possibly it was the first time he was ever permitted to go out alone
into the streets of Boston with money to spend for his own pleasure;
for he was now but seven years old.

"Can I have more coppers when these are gone?" he inquired.

"No," replied his mother, "you have quite as many now as will be for
your welfare, I think. You must be a good boy, and keep out of
mischief."

"What are you going to buy?" asked an older brother; and without
waiting for a reply, he answered the question himself, by saying,
"Candy, of course."

"Lay out your money wisely," added his mother; "I shall want to see
how much wisdom you display in your purchases. Remember 'all is not
gold that glitters.'"

His mother had scarcely ceased speaking, when Benjamin bounded out of
the house, eager to enjoy the anticipated pleasures of the day. Like
other boys, on such occasions, his head was filled with bewitching
fancies, and he evidently expected such a day of joy as he never had
before. First in his thoughts stood the toy-shop, into the windows of
which he had often looked wistfully, although it was a small affair
compared with the Boston toy-shops of the present day. Every article
in it could have been examined in one or two hours, while now it would
take as many days to view all the articles in one of these
curiosity-shops. It is almost wonderful, and even fabulous, this
multiplication of playthings for the children. There seems to be no
end to them, and many a girl and boy have been put to their "wits'
end" to know what to choose out of the thousands of articles arranged
on the shelves.

Benjamin had not proceeded far before he met a boy blowing away upon,
a new-bought whistle, as if its music were sweeter than the voice of
lark or nightingale. He could scarcely help envying him the happiness
of owning so valuable a treasure. He stopped and looked at him with an
expression of delight, and they exchanged glances that showed a
genuine sympathy springing up between them. At once he resolved to
possess a similar musical instrument, as I suppose it may be called;
and away he hastened to the toy-shop, knowing that it must have been
purchased there.

"Any whistles?" he inquired.

"Plenty of them," answered the proprietor, with a smile, as he brought
forth a number, to the amazement of his little customer.

"I will give you all the money I have for one," said Benjamin, without
waiting to inquire the price, so enthusiastic was he to become the
possessor of such a prize.

"Ah! all you have?" responded the merchant. "Perhaps you have not so
much as I ask for them. You see these are very nice whistles."

"I know it," added Benjamin, "and I will give you all the money I have
for one," still more afraid that he should not be able to obtain one.

"How much money have you?"

Benjamin told him honestly just how much he had, and the merchant
agreed to give him a whistle in exchange for it.

Never was a child more delighted than he, when the bargain was made.
He tried every whistle, that he might select the one having the most
music in it; and when his choice was settled, he turned his steps
towards home. He thought no more of other sights and scenes, and cared
not for sweetmeats and knick-knacks, now that he owned this wonderful
thing. He reached home and hurried into the house, blowing his
whistle lustily as he went, as if he expected to astonish the whole
race of Franklins by the shrillness, if not by the sweetness, of his
music.

"What have you there, Benjamin?" inquired his mother.

"A whistle," he answered, hardly stopping his blowing long enough to
give a reverent reply.

"You got back quick, it seems to me," she continued. "Have you seen
all that is to be seen?"

"All I want to see," he answered; which was very true. He was so
completely carried away with his whistle that he had lost all his
interest in everything else belonging to the holiday. His cup of
delight was running over now that he could march about the house with
musical sounds of his own making.

"How much did you give for your whistle?" asked one of his cousins,
who was present.

"All the money I had," he replied.

"What!" exclaimed his brother, "did you give all your money for that
little concern?"

"Yes, every cent of it."

"You are not half so bright as I thought you were," continued his
brother. "It is four times as much as the whistle is worth."

"You should have asked the price of it, in the first place," said his
mother. "Some men will take all the money they can get for an
article. Perhaps he did not ask so much as you gave for it."

"If you had given a reasonable price for it," said his brother, "you
might have had enough left to have bought a pocketful of good things."

"Yes," added his cousin, "peppermints, candy, cakes, and more perhaps;
but it is the first time he ever went a shopping on a holiday."

"I must confess you are a smart fellow, Ben" (as he was familiarly
called by the boys), "to be taken in like that," continued his
brother, rather deridingly. "All your money for that worthless thing,
that is enough to make us crazy! You ought to have known better.
Suppose you had had twice as much money, you would have given it all
for the whistle, I suppose, if this is the way you trade."

"Perhaps he would have bought two or three of them in that case," said
his cousin, at the same time looking very much as if he intended to
make sport of the young whistler.

By this time Benjamin, who had said nothing in reply to their taunts
and reproofs, was running over with feeling, and he could hold in no
longer. He burst into tears, and made even more noise by crying than
he had done with his whistle. Both their ridicule and the thought of
having paid so much more than he ought for the article, overcame him,
and he found relief in tears. His mother came to the rescue, by
saying--

"Never mind, Benjamin, you will understand better next time. We must
all live and learn. Perhaps you did about as well as most boys of your
age would."

"I think so, too," said his cousin; "but we wanted to have a little
sport, seeing it is a holiday. So wipe up, 'Ben,' and we will have a
good time yet."

On the whole, it was really a benefit that Benjamin paid too much for
his whistle. For he learned a lesson thereby which he never forgot. It
destroyed his happiness on that holiday, but it saved him from much
unhappiness in years to come. More than sixty years afterwards, when
he was in France, he wrote to a friend, rehearsing this incident of
his childhood, and said--

"This, however, was afterwards of use to me, the impression continuing
on my mind; so that often, when I was tempted to buy some unnecessary
thing, I said to myself, _Don't give too much for the whistle_; and I
saved my money.

"As I grew up, came into the world, and observed the actions of men, I
thought I met with many, very many who _gave too much for the
whistle_.

"When I saw one too ambitious of court favour, sacrificing his time in
attendance on levées, his repose, his liberty, his virtue, and,
perhaps, his friends, to attain it, I have said to myself, _This man
gives too much for his whistle_.

"When I saw another fond of popularity, constantly employing himself
in political bustles, neglecting his own affairs, and ruining them by
that neglect, _He pays, indeed_, said I, _too much for his whistle_.

"If I see one fond of appearance, or fine clothes, fine houses, fine
furniture, fine equipages, all above his fortune, for which he
contracts debts, and ends his career in a prison, _Alas!_ say I, _he
has paid dear, very dear for his whistle_.

"When I see a beautiful, sweet-tempered girl married to an ill-natured
brute of a husband, _What a pity_, say I, _that she should pay so much
for a whistle!_

"In short, I conceive that great part of the miseries of mankind are
brought upon them by the false estimates they have made of the value
of things, and by their _giving too much for their whistle_."

Thus Benjamin made a good use of one of the foolish acts of his
boyhood, which tells well for both his head and heart. Many boys are
far less wise, and do the same foolish thing over and over again. They
never learn wisdom from the past. Poor, simple, pitiable class of
boys!

Let the reader prove himself another Benjamin Franklin in this
respect. Remember that there is more than one way _to pay too dear for
a whistle_, and he is wisest who tries to discover them all.

When a boy equivocates, or deceives, to conceal some act of
disobedience from his parents or teachers, and thereby lays the
foundations for habitual untruthfulness, he pays too dear for the
whistle; and he will learn the truth of it when he becomes older, and
cannot command the confidence of his friends and neighbours, but is
branded by them as an unreliable, dishonest man.

In like manner, the boy who thinks it is manly to smoke, and fill the
wine-cup, will find that he has a very expensive whistle, when he
becomes "hail fellow well met" among a miserable class of young men,
and is despised and discarded by the virtuous and good.

So, in general, the young person who is fascinated by worldly
pleasure, and supposes that wealth and honour are real apples of gold
to the possessor, thinking less of goodness and a life of piety than
he does of mere show and worldliness, will find that he has been
playing with a costly whistle, when age and his last sickness comes,
and death confronts him with its stern realities.

CHAPTER II.

AT SCHOOL.

"Well, Benjamin," said his father, laying down his violin, upon which
he was wont to play in the evening, for his own and children's
amusement, "how should you like to go to school and qualify yourself
to be a minister? You are as fond of your books as James is of
printing, or John of making candles!"

"I should like to go to school well enough," replied Benjamin, after
some hesitation; "but I don't know about the rest of it."

"You are old enough now," continued his father, "to think about a
trade or profession. Your elder brothers have their trades, and,
perhaps, you ought to give your service to the Church. You like to
study, do you not?"

"Yes, sir; the best of anything I do." A very correct answer, since he
began to read so young, that he could not remember the time when he
could not read his Bible.

"It will cost a good deal to keep you at school and educate you, and
perhaps I shall not be able to do it with so large a family to
support. I have to be very industrious now to make my ends meet. But
if you are diligent to improve your time, and lend a helping hand at
home, out of school hours, I may be able to do it."

"When shall I begin, if you decide to let me go?"

"Immediately. It is a long process to become qualified for the
ministry, and the sooner you begin the better."

"Uncle Benjamin," as he was called in the family, a brother of our
little hero's father, sat listening to the conversation, and, at this
point, remarked, "Yes, Benjamin, it is the best thing you can do. I am
sure you can make very rapid progress at school; and there ought to be
one preacher in the family, I think."

"So many people have told me," added his father. "Dr. Willard (his
pastor) said as much to me not long ago, and I am fully persuaded to
make the trial."

"It won't be a severe trial, either," said Uncle Benjamin. "The thing
can be accomplished more easily than at first appears. I tell you what
it is, Benjamin," addressing himself to the boy, "when you are
qualified for the office, I will give you my large volume of
short-hand sermons, and the reading of these will improve your manner
of sermonizing."

This uncle had recently come over from England, and was boarding in
the family. He was a very intelligent man, quite a literary character
for the times, and had been accustomed to take down the sermons to
which he listened, in short-hand, until he had preserved a large
manuscript volume of them, which he valued highly. It was this volume
which he promised to bequeath to his nephew when he should become
qualified to enter the ministry.

This interview occurred almost one hundred and fifty years ago,
between Benjamin Franklin, who paid too much for the whistle, and his
father, whose Christian name was Josiah. The lad was eight years old
at the time, a bright, active, intelligent boy, who was more fond of
reading than any other child in the family. He was born in Boston, on
Sunday, January 6 (Old Style, corresponding to January 17, New Style),
1706, and on the same day was carried into the Old South Church, and
there baptized. Both his father and mother were members of that
church.

If you ask how it is known that he was born and baptized on the same
day, we answer, that on the "Old Boston Town Records of Births," under
the heading, "Boston Births, entered 1708," is the following:--

     "Benjamin, son of Josiah Franklin, and Abiah, his wife, Born 6
     Jan. 1706."

By some oversight or negligence the birth was not recorded until two
years after Benjamin was born; yet it shows that he was born on Jan.
6, 1706.

Then we turn to the records of the Old South Church, and find among
the baptism of infants the following:--

     "1706, Jan. 6, Benjamin, son of Josiah and Abiah Franklin."

Putting these two records together, they establish beyond doubt the
fact that Benjamin Franklin was born and baptized on the same day. It
has generally been said that we do not know by whom he was baptized,
although the rite must have been performed either by Dr. Samuel
Willard, or Rev. Ebenezer Pemberton, who were then pastors of the Old
South Church. But the fact that the record is made in the handwriting
of Dr. Willard would indicate that he baptized him. He was born in
Milk Street, opposite the church, so that he had only to be carried
across the street to receive the ordinance of baptism.

A picture of the old house in which he was born has been preserved,
and it stood on the spot where now rises a lofty granite warehouse,
bearing, in raised letters beneath the cornice, the inscription,
"BIRTHPLACE OF FRANKLIN." The house measured twenty feet in width, and
was about thirty feet long. It was three stories high in appearance,
the third being the attic. On the lower floor of the main house there
was only one room, which was about twenty feet square, and served the
family for the triple purpose of parlour, sitting-room, and
dining-hall. It contained an old-fashioned fireplace, so large that
an ox might have been roasted before it. The second and third stories
originally contained but one chamber each, of ample dimensions, and
furnished in the plainest manner. The attic was an unplastered room,
where probably some of the elder children lodged. This house stood
about a hundred years after the Franklins left it, and was finally
destroyed by fire, on Saturday, Dec. 29, 1810.

He was named after the aforesaid uncle, and this circumstance alone
was well suited to beget a mutual interest and attachment between
them. His love of books early attracted the attention of his parents
and others, and they regarded him as a precocious child. On this
account the remark was often volunteered, "that he ought to be sent to
college."

We have said that Mr. Franklin was playing upon his violin on the
evening of the aforesaid interview. He was very fond of music, was a
good singer, and performed well upon the violin. He was wont to gather
his family around him during the leisure hours of evening, and sing
and play. Many cheerful and happy seasons were passed in this way at
the fireside, the influence of which was excellent upon his children.

That it would be doubtful whether he could meet the expense of sending
Benjamin to college, must appear to the reader, when he learns that
he was a labouring man, and had a family of seventeen children,
thirteen of whom sat around his table together at one time. Fourteen
were older than Benjamin, and two were younger. To support so large a
family must have taxed the energies of the father to the utmost, even
though no one of them was destined for a learned profession.

It was arranged that Benjamin should immediately enter school, and
enjoy the best literary advantages which the poverty of his father
could provide. He acceded to the plan with hearty good-will, and
commenced his studies with a zeal and enthusiasm such as few scholars
exhibit.

The school was taught by Mr. Nathaniel Williams, successor of the
famous Boston teacher, Mr. Ezekiel Cheever, who was instructor
thirty-five years, and who discontinued teaching, as Cotton Mather
said, "only when mortality took him off." The homely old wooden
school-house, one story and a half high, stood near by the spot on
which the bronze statue of Franklin is now seen, and there was the
"school-house green," where "Ben" and his companions sported together.
It was probably the only free grammar-school which Boston afforded at
that time; for it was only a little village compared with its present
size. It then contained only about ten thousand inhabitants, and now
it has more than fifteen times that number. There were no stately
public buildings at that time, like the State-house, Court-house,
Custom-house, Athenæum, Public Library, etc. Such splendid granite
blocks of stores as we now behold on almost every business street,
were then unknown; and no shops could be found, as now, filled with
the fabrics of every land. There were no costly houses of worship, the
"Old South Meeting-house," then about half its present size, being the
oldest one in existence at the time.

When Benjamin was born, the streets of Boston were not named. This was
not done until the year after, when there were but one hundred and ten
of them in number. Now there are a thousand streets, courts, and
places. Thus it will be seen that the Boston of that day resembled the
present Boston little more than Benjamin Franklin blowing his whistle
resembled Benjamin Franklin the great statesman and philosopher.

"I have seen the teacher to-day," said Mr. Franklin to his wife, two
or three months after his son entered school, "and he says that he is
making rapid progress, and will soon stand first in his class,
although others have enjoyed much better advantages."

"I am glad to hear it," answered Mrs. Franklin, with a satisfied air,
such as mothers are likely to betray when they know that their
children are doing well; "I think he will make a good scholar if he
can have the opportunity, though I scarcely see how you will be able
to educate him."

"I can hardly see how myself," said her husband; "yet I trust that God
will provide a way. At any rate, I hope for the best."

"It will be more and more expensive every year to support him," added
Mrs. Franklin, "since his clothes will cost more as he advances in
years. The least expense in educating him we are having now."

"That is very true, and I have looked at the matter in this light, all
the while not being able to see my way quite clear, yet trusting to
Providence for a happy issue."

"It is well to trust in Providence if it is not done blindly, for
Providence sometimes does wonders for those who trust. It is quite
certain that He who parted the waters of the Red Sea for the children
of Israel to pass, and fed them with manna from the skies, can provide
a way for our Benjamin to be educated. But it looks to me as if some
of his bread would have to drop down from heaven."

"Well, if it comes, that is enough," responded Mr. Franklin, rather
drily. "If God does anything for him, he will do it in his own time
and way. I shall be satisfied to see him qualified for usefulness in
the service of the Church."

Within a few months after Benjamin entered school, he had advanced
from the middle to the head of his class. He was so apt to learn, and
gave so close attention to his lessons, that his teacher spoke of him
as a boy of uncommon promise. He did not stand at the head of his
class long, however, before he was transferred to a higher one. He so
far outstripped his companions that the teacher was obliged to advance
him thus, otherwise his mental progress would have been injuriously
retarded. His parents were highly gratified with his diligent
improvement of time and opportunities, and other relatives and friends
began to prophesy his future eminence.

It is generally the case that such early attention to studies, in
connection with the advancement that follows, awakens high hopes of
the young in the hearts of all observers. Such things foreshadow the
future character, so that people think they can tell what the man will
be from what the boy is. So it was with young Benjamin Franklin. So it
was with Daniel Webster,--his mother inferred from his close attention
to reading, and his remarkable progress in learning, that he would
become a distinguished man, and so expressed herself to others. She
lived to see him rise in his profession, until he became a member of
Congress, though she died before he reached the zenith of his renown.
The same was true of David Rittenhouse, the famous mathematician. When
he was but eight years old he constructed various articles, such as a
miniature water-wheel, and at seventeen years of age he made a clock.
His younger brother relates that he was accustomed to stop when he was
ploughing in the field, and solve problems on the fence, and sometimes
cover the plough-handles over with figures. The highest expectations
of his friends were more than realized in his after life. The peculiar
genius which he exhibited in his boyhood gave him fame at last. Again,
George Stephenson, the great engineer, the son of a very poor man, who
fired the engine at the Wylam Colliery, began his life labour when a
mere boy. Besides watching the cows, and barring the gates at night
after the coal waggons had passed, at twopence a day, he amused
himself during his leisure moments in making clay engines, in
imitation of that which his father tended. Although he lived in such
humble circumstances that he was almost entirely unnoticed, yet it
would have been apparent to any observer, that his intense interest
in, and taste for, such mechanical work, evinced what the future man
would be.

It was quite natural, then, for the parents and friends of Benjamin
Franklin to be encouraged by his love of books, and diligent
attention, especially when so much intellectual brightness was also
manifest. The sequel will prove whether their hopes were wisely
cherished.

CHAPTER III.

A CHANGE.

Benjamin had not been in school quite a year, when his father saw
plainly that he would not be able to defray the expense of educating
him.

"I might keep him along for the present," said he to his wife, "but I
am satisfied that I cannot carry him through. My family expenses are
now very great, and they will be still larger. It will make
considerable difference in my expenses whether Benjamin is kept at
school, or assists me by the labour of his hands."

"I am not surprised at all at your conclusion," replied Mrs. Franklin.
"It is no more than I have expected, as I have before intimated.
Parents must be better off than we are to be able to send a son to
college."

"If they have as many children to support, you might add," said Mr.
Franklin. "I could easily accomplish it with no larger family on my
hands than some of my neighbours have."

"Do you intend to take Benjamin away from school at once?"

"Yes! I have very reluctantly come to the conclusion that I must. It
is contrary to all my desires, but necessity compels me to do it."

"I am sorry for Benjamin," continued Mrs. Franklin, "for he has become
much interested in his school, and it will be a great disappointment
to him."

"I thought of that much before coming to my present decision; but
there is no alternative. Providence seems to indicate, now, the course
I should take, and I am the more willing to follow, because the times
do not hold out so much encouragement to those who would enter the
service of the Church. There are many trials and hardships to be met
in the work, and at the present day, they seem to be peculiar."

"There are trials almost anywhere in these times," said Mrs. Franklin,
"and I suppose we ought to bear them with fortitude. So far as that is
concerned, I think Benjamin will not escape them, let him follow what
business he may."

"True, very true, and I trust that I desire to place him where God
would have me; but he has certainly hedged up his way to the
ministry."

This subject was very thoroughly considered before it was opened to
Benjamin. His father was too anxious to educate him to change his
purpose without much patient thought and circumspection. Nothing but
absolute necessity induced him to come to this decision. The hard hand
of poverty was laid upon him, and he must have "bread before learning"
for his children.

One evening, as the school term was drawing to a close, Mr. Franklin
said to Benjamin--

"I think I shall be under the necessity of taking you away from school
at the close of the term. The times are so hard, that I find, with my
best exertions, I can do little more than supply you with food and
clothes."

"And not go to school any more?" anxiously inquired Benjamin.

"Perhaps not. Such appears to be your prospect now, though I cannot
say that God may not open a way hereafter; I hope he will. You are but
nine years old, and there is time yet for a way to be provided."

"Why can I not attend school till I am old enough to help you?"

"You are old enough to help me now. I could find a plenty for you to
do every day, so that you could make yourself very useful."

In those days boys were put to work much earlier than they are now.
They had very small opportunities for acquiring knowledge, and the
boys who did not go to school after they were ten years old were more
in number than those who did. Besides, the schools were very poor in
comparison with those of the present age. They offered very limited
advantages to the young. It was not unusual, therefore, for lads as
young as Benjamin to be made to work.

"But I do not intend to set you to work immediately," continued Mr.
Franklin. "You ought to give some attention to penmanship and
arithmetic, and I shall send you to Mr. Brownwell's writing-school for
a season."

"I shall like that, for I want to know how to write well. Some of the
boys no older than I am have been to his school some time."

"It is equally important that you learn to cipher, and Mr. Brownwell
is an excellent teacher of arithmetic. It will not take you many
months to become a good penman under his tuition, and to acquire
considerable knowledge of numbers."

"I care more about writing than I do about arithmetic," said Benjamin.
"I don't think I shall like arithmetic very well."

"Boys have to study some things they don't like," responded his
father. "It is the only way they can qualify themselves for
usefulness. You would not make much of an appearance in the world
without some acquaintance with numbers."

"I know that," said Benjamin; "and I shall try to master it, even if I
do not like it. I am willing to do what you think is best."

"I hope you will always be as willing to yield to my judgment. It is a
good sign for a boy to accept cheerfully the plans of his father, who
has had more experience."

Benjamin was generally very prompt to obey his parents, even when he
did not exactly see the necessity of their commands. He understood
full well that obedience was a law of the household, which could not
be violated with impunity; therefore he wisely obeyed. His father was
a religious man, puritanical and even severe in his views and habits;
a walk was never allowed on Sunday, and "going to meeting" was one of
the inexorable rules of the family.

Benjamin was reared under such family regulations. He was expected to
regard them with becoming filial respect. Nor did he grow restless and
impatient under them, nor cherish less affection for his father in
consequence. We have no reason to believe that he sought to evade
them; and there is no doubt that the influence of such discipline was
good in forming his character. He certainly loved and respected his
father as long as he lived. Many years thereafter, when his father was
old and infirm, he was wont to perform frequent journeys from
Philadelphia to Boston, to visit him. It was on one of these journeys
that he rebuked the inquisitiveness of a landlord, by requesting him,
as soon as he entered his tavern, to assemble all the members of his
family together, as he had something important to communicate. The
landlord proceeded to gratify him, and as soon as they were brought
together in one room, he said, "My name is Benjamin Franklin; I am a
printer by trade; I live, when at home, in Philadelphia; in Boston I
have a father, a good old man, who taught me, when I was a boy, to
read my book, and say my prayers; I have ever since thought it was my
duty to visit and pay my respects to such a father, and I am on that
errand to Boston now. This is all I can recollect at present of myself
that I think worth telling you. But if you can think of anything else
that you wish to know about me, I beg you to out with it at once, that
I may answer, and so give you an opportunity to get me something to
eat, for I long to be on my journey that I may return as soon as
possible to my family and business, where I most of all delight to
be." This was a keen rebuke to a landlord who was disposed to be
inquisitive, and interrogate his guests in an ungentlemanly way. But
we have cited the incident to show that the filial love and respect
which Benjamin had for his parents continued as long as they lived.
The last act of affection and reverence that he could possibly perform
to them was cheerfully made. It was the erection of a marble stone
over their remains in Boston, bearing the following inscription:--

                     "JOSIAH FRANKLIN
                            And
                       ABIAH his wife
                     Lie here interred.
          They lived lovingly together in wedlock
                     Fifty-five years;
     And without an estate, or any gainful employment,
          By constant labour, and honest industry
                   (With God's blessing)
           Maintained a large family comfortably;
  And brought up thirteen children and seven grandchildren
                         Reputably.
                From this instance, reader,
         Be encouraged to diligence in thy calling,
                And distrust not Providence.
              He was a pious and prudent man,
             She a discreet and virtuous woman.
                    Their youngest son,
             In filial regard to their memory,
                     Places this stone.
            J. F. born 1645; died 1744. Æt. 89.
            A. F. born 1667; died 1752. Æt. 85."

This stone had become so dilapidated in 1827, that the citizens of
Boston supplied its place with a granite obelisk, on which the
foregoing inscription may still be read.

It is good for boys, who are very likely to want their own way, to be
obliged to obey exact rules in the family. It is a restraint upon
their evil tendencies that tells well upon their riper years. It was
to such an influence that Sir Robert Peel felt much indebted for his
success in life. As an illustration of the obedience he was obliged to
practise, in common with his brothers, he relates, that, in his
youth, a comrade called one day to solicit their company upon some
excursion. He was a young man of handsome address, intelligent, smart,
and promising, though quite accustomed to enjoy much pastime. He was a
fashionable young man for the times, wearing "dark brown hair, tied
behind with blue ribbon; clear, mirthful eyes; boots which reached
above his knees; a broad-skirted, scarlet coat, with gold lace on the
cuffs, the collar, and the skirts; and a long waistcoat of blue silk.
His breeches were buckskin; his hat was three-cornered, set jauntily
higher on the right than on the left side." His name was Harry
Garland. To his request that William, Edmund, and Robert might go with
him, their father replied, "No, they cannot go out." Although the boys
earnestly desired to go, they dared say nothing against their father's
emphatic "No." He had work for them to do, and he never allowed
pleasure to usurp the time for labour. The result is recorded on the
page of English history. The three brothers of the Peel family became
renowned in their country's brilliant progress. Harry Garland, the
idle, foppish youth, became a ruined spendthrift. In this way the
language of inspiration is verified. "Honour thy father and mother
(which is the first commandment with promise), that it may be well
with thee." The providence of God appears to make it well with the
children who obey the commandment. Not the least of their reward is
the respect and confidence of mankind which their obedience secures.
Men universally admire to witness deeds that are prompted by true
filial love. Such an act as that of the great engineer, George
Stephenson, who took the first thirty pounds he possessed, saved from
a year's wages, and paid off his blind old father's debts, and then
removed both father and mother to a comfortable tenement at
Killingworth, where he supported them by the labour of his hands,
awakens our admiration, and leads us to expect that the Divine
blessing will rest upon the author.

When the statue of Franklin was inaugurated, in 1856, a barouche
appeared in the procession that carried eight brothers, all of whom
received Franklin medals at the Mayhew School in their boyhood, sons
of the late Mr. John Hall. They were all known to fame for their worth
of character and wide influence. As the barouche in which they rode
came into State Street, from Merchants' Row, these brothers all rose
up in the carriage, uncovered their heads, and thus remained while
passing a window at which their excellent and revered mother sat,--an
act of filial regard so impressive and beautiful as to fill the hearts
of beholders with profound respect for the affectionate sons.

Benjamin was taken away from school, agreeably to his father's
decision, and sent to Mr. Brownwell, to perfect himself in arithmetic
and penmanship. Less than a year he had attended the grammar-school,
with little or no prospect of returning to his studies. But the
disappointment was somewhat alleviated by the advantages offered at
Mr. Brownwell's writing class. Here he made rapid progress in
penmanship, though he failed in mastering the science of number. He
had more taste, and perhaps tact, for penmanship than he had for
arithmetical rules and problems, and this may account for the
difference of his improvement in the two branches.

We should have remarked that Benjamin endeared himself to his teacher
while he was a member of the public school, and it was with regret
that the latter parted with his studious pupil. His close attention to
his duties, and his habitual good deportment, in connection with his
progress, made him such a scholar as teachers love.

CHAPTER IV.

MAKING CANDLES.

When Benjamin was ten years old he had acquired all the education his
father thought he could afford to give him. He could write a very good
hand, and read fluently, though his knowledge of arithmetic was very
limited indeed.

"Are you about ready, Benjamin, to come into the shop and help me?"
inquired his father, at the dinner table.

"Am I not going to Mr. Brownwell's school any longer?" he asked,
instead of replying to his father's question,--a Yankee-like way of
doing things, truly.

"I think the close of this term will complete the education I am able
to give you," replied his father. "You will fare, then, better than
your brothers, in respect to schooling."

"I had rather not go into the shop," said Benjamin. "I think I shall
not like to make candles, and I really wish you would engage in some
other business."

"And starve, too," said his father. "In such times as these we must be
willing to do what will insure us a livelihood. I know of no other
business that would give me a living at present, certainly none that I
am qualified to pursue."

Mr. Franklin was a dyer by trade, in England, and designed to continue
it when he removed to America, about the year 1685. But he found, on
arriving at Boston, that it would be quite impossible for him to
support his family at this trade. The country was new, and the habits
of the people were different from those of the English, so that the
dyeing business could receive but little patronage. The next pursuit
that presented itself, with fair promises of success, was that of
"tallow-chandler and soap-boiler;" not so cleanly and popular a
business as some, but yet necessary to be done, and very useful in its
place; and this was enough for such a man as Mr. Franklin to know. He
cared very little whether the trade was popular, so long as it was
indispensable and useful. To him no business was dishonourable, if the
wants of society absolutely demanded it.

"Well, I should rather make soap and candles than starve," said
Benjamin; "but nothing else could make me willing to follow the
business."

"One other thing ought to make you willing to do such work," added his
father. "You had better do this than do nothing, for idleness is the
parent of vice. Boys like you should be industrious, even if they do
not earn their bread. It is better for them to work for nothing than
not to work at all."

"I think they may save their strength till they can earn something,"
said Benjamin. "People must like to work better than I do, to work for
nothing."

"You do not understand me," continued Mr. Franklin. "I mean to say, it
is so important for the young to form industrious habits, that they
had better work for nothing than to be idle. If they are idle when
they are young, they will be so when they become men, and idleness
will finally be their ruin. 'The devil tempts all other men, but idle
men tempt the devil,' is an old and truthful proverb, and I hope you
will never consent to verify it."

Mr. Franklin had been a close observer all his life, and he had
noticed that industry was characteristic of those who accomplished
anything commendable. Consequently he insisted that his children
should have employment. He allowed no drones in his family hive. All
had something to do as soon as they were old enough to toil. Under
such influences Benjamin was reared, and he grew up to be as much in
love with industry as his father was. Some of his best counsels, and
most interesting sayings, when he became a man, related to this
subject. The following are among the maxims which he uttered in his
riper years:--

     "Sloth, like rust, consumes faster than labour wears; while the
     used key is always bright."

     "But dost thou love life? Then do not squander time, for that is
     the stuff life is made of."

     "If time be of all things the most precious, wasting time must be
     the greatest prodigality."

     "Sloth makes all things difficult, but industry all easy; and he
     that ariseth late must trot all day, and shall scarce overtake
     his business at night; while laziness travels so slowly, that
     poverty soon overtakes him."

     "At the working man's house hunger looks in, but dares not
     enter."

     "Diligence is the mother of good luck, and God gives all things
     to industry."

     "One to-day is worth two to-morrows."

     "Drive thy business, let not thy business drive thee."

     "God helps them that help themselves."

These are very beautiful and expressive sentences, and they show that
Benjamin Franklin thought as much of industry in his manhood as his
father did a quarter of a century before. Take the first, in which he
compares slothfulness to rust, which will consume iron tools or
machinery faster than their constant use will. As the use of a hoe or
a spade keeps it polished, so the habitual exercise of the powers of
human nature preserves them in a good condition. A key that is cast
aside soon rusts, and is spoiled, but "the used key is always
bright." It is more fit for use because it has been used.

How true it is that "hunger dare not enter the working-man's house!"
By the sweat of his brow he earns his daily bread, and his children do
not cry with hunger. It is the lazy man's table that has no bread. His
children rise up hungry, and go to bed supperless. God himself hath
said, "If any would not work, neither should he eat."

"Diligence is the mother of good luck." Another gem of wisdom that
commands our acquiescence. How common for the indolent to complain of
"bad luck!" Their families need the necessaries of life, as both a
scanty table and rent apparel bear witness, and they cast the blame
upon "ill luck," "misfortune," "unavoidable circumstances," or
something of the kind. Many men whose faces are reddened and blotched
by intemperance, begotten in the barroom where they have worse than
idled away days and weeks of precious time, are often heard to lament
over their "bad luck," as if their laziness and intemperance were not
the direct cause of their misery. But it is not often that the
diligent experience "bad luck." They receive a reward for their
labours, and thrift and honour attend their steps, according as it is
written in the Bible: "The soul of the sluggard desireth, and _hath_
nothing; but the soul of the diligent shall be made fat. Seest thou a
man diligent in his business? he shall stand before kings; he shall
not stand before mean men."

But we need not enlarge upon these sayings of Franklin. They are all
charged with wisdom, and might be expanded into volumes. The more we
study them, the more beauty we perceive.

It was settled that Benjamin should assist his father in the
manufacture of candles, notwithstanding his disinclination to engage
in the business. His prospects of more schooling were thus cut off at
ten years of age, and now he was obliged to turn his attention to hard
work. It was rather an unpromising future to a little boy. No more
schooling after ten years of age! What small opportunities in
comparison with those enjoyed by nearly every boy at the present day!
Now they are just beginning to learn at this early age. From ten they
can look forward to six or eight years of golden opportunities in the
school-room. Does the young reader appreciate the privileges which he
enjoys?

"To-morrow for the work-shop, Benjamin!" exclaimed Mr. Franklin, with
a tone of pleasantry, on the evening before he was initiated into the
mysteries of making candles. "I am full of business, and need another
hand very much at present."

"You can't expect much help from me," said Benjamin, "till I learn how
to do the work. So I am thinking you will continue to be hurried for
a while, unless you have another hand besides me."

"You can do what I shall set you about just as well as a boy, or even
a man, who had worked at the business for a year."

"I wonder what that can be, that is so easy!" added Benjamin, with
some surprise.

"You can cut the wicks, fill the moulds for cast-candles, keep the
shop in order, run hither and thither upon errands, and do other
things that will save my time, and thus assist me just as much as a
man could in doing the same things."

"I am sure," said Mrs. Franklin, who had been listening to the
conversation attentively, "that is inducement enough for any boy, but
a lazy one, to work. You can make yourself about as useful to your
father as a man whom he would have to pay high wages."

"You will aid me just as much in going errands," said his father, "as
in doing anything else. I have a good deal of such running to do, and
if you do it, I can be employed in the more important part of my
business, which no one else can attend to. Besides, your nimble feet
can get over the ground much quicker than my older and clumsier ones,
so that you can really perform this part of the business better than I
can myself."

Benjamin made no reply to these last remarks, although he was more
favourably impressed, after hearing them, with the tallow-chandler's
calling. On the following day he entered upon his new vocation, and,
if "variety is the spice of life," then his first day in the shop had
a plenty of spice. The shop was situated at the corner of Hanover and
Union Streets, having the sign of a large blue ball, bearing the
inscription:

          1698 JOSIAS
              FRANKLIN 1698.

He cut wicks, filled moulds, performed errands, and played the part of
general waiter, in which there was much variety. And this was his work
for successive weeks, very little of his time running to waste. Do you
ask how he likes it? The following conversation with his mother will
answer.

"I don't like it at all, mother,--no better than I thought I should,"
he said. "I wish I could do something else."

"What else is there for you to do, Benjamin?" replied his mother.
"What would you like to do?"

"I would like to go to sea."

"Go to see what?" she inquired, as if she did not understand him at
first.

"Go on a voyage to Europe, or the East Indies."

"What!" exclaimed his mother, exhibiting surprise, for she had not
dreamed that her son had any inclination to go to sea. "Want to be a
sailor? What put that into your head?"

"I have always thought I should like to go to sea," he answered; "and
I am so tired of making candles that I want to go now more than ever."

"I am astonished, Benjamin. You might know that I should never give my
consent to that. I should almost as lief bury you. And how can you
want to leave your good home, and all your friends, to live in a ship,
exposed to storms and death all the time?"

"It is not because I do not love my home and friends, but I have a
desire to sail on a voyage to some other country. I like the water,
and nothing would suit me so well as to be a cabin-boy."

"There, Benjamin, you must never say another word about it," continued
his mother; "and you must not think any more about going; for I shall
never give my consent, and I know _your father never will_. It was
almost too much for me when your brother broke away from us, and went
to sea. I could not pass through another such trial. So you must not
persist in your wish, if you would not send me down to the grave." And
here his mother alluded to one of the most bitter experiences of her
life, when a son older than Benjamin became restless at home, and
would not be persuaded from his purpose of going to sea. It caused
her many unhappy hours.

Benjamin had said nothing about this matter to his father, and this
prompt veto of his mother put a damper on his hopes, so that he
continued to work at the shop, with all his dislike for the business.
His parents talked over the matter, and his father was led thereby to
watch him more carefully, that he might nip the first buddings of
desire for the sea. At length, however, Benjamin ventured to make
known his wishes to his father.

"I have thought," said he, "that I should like to go to sea, if you
are willing;" and there he stopped, evidently expecting to be refused.

"What has happened to lead you to desire this?" inquired his father.

"Not anything," he answered. "I always thought I should like
it,--though I have had a stronger desire lately."

"I see how it is," continued his father. "You have been to the water
with the boys frequently of late, and I have noticed that you loved to
be in a boat better than to make candles. I am afraid that your sports
on the water are making you dissatisfied with your home, and that here
is the secret of your wanting to go to sea."

"No, father; I think as much of my home as I ever did, and I like a
boat no better now than I did the first time I got into one."

"Perhaps it is so; but boys don't always know when they are losing
their attachment to home. You need not say another syllable, however,
about going to sea, for I shall never consent to it. You may as well
relinquish at once all thought of going, since I strictly forbid your
laying any such plans. If you do not wish to be a tallow-chandler, you
may try some other business. I shall not insist upon your working with
me, though I shall insist upon your following some calling."

"I shall not want to go to sea against your wishes," said Benjamin. "I
only thought I would go if you and mother were perfectly willing. I
can work at this dirty trade, too, if you think it is best, though I
can never like it."

"I am glad to see that you have so much regard for your parents'
wishes," said his father. "If your brother had been as considerate, he
never would have become a sailor. Children should always remember that
their parents know best, as they have had more experience and time to
observe. I say again, if you will abandon all thoughts of a seafaring
life, I will try to find you a situation to learn some trade you may
choose for yourself."

Benjamin was not disposed to enter upon a sailor's life contrary to
his parents' counsels, and he submitted to his father's decision with
as much cheerfulness and good feeling as could be expected in the
circumstances. He knew that it was little use to tease his father when
he said "no" to a project. His emphatic "no" usually put an end to all
controversy.

There is little doubt that Benjamin had been somewhat influenced by
his frolics in and on the water. For some time, as opportunity
offered, he had been down to the water both to bathe and take
boat-rides. He had become an expert swimmer in a very short time, and
not one of the boys so readily learned to manage a boat. He exhibited
so much tact in these water feats, that he was usually regarded as a
leader by the boys, and all matters of importance were referred to his
judgment. It was not strange that he should be more in love with an
ocean life after such pastimes with his comrades. Whether he admitted
it or not, it is probable that his desire to go to sea was greatly
increased by these pleasant times in and on the water.

It was certainly a poor prospect that was before the young
tallow-chandler. It was not a trade to call into exercise the higher
and nobler faculties of the mind and heart. On that account, no one
could expect that Benjamin would rise to much distinction in the
world; and this will serve to awaken the reader's surprise as he
becomes acquainted with the sequel. A little fellow, ten or twelve
years of age, cutting the wicks of candles, and filling the moulds,
does not promise to become a great statesman and philosopher. Yet
with no more promise than this some of the most distinguished men
commenced their career. Behold Giotti, as he tends his father's flock,
tracing the first sketches of the divine art in the sand with a clumsy
stick,--a deed so unimportant that it foreshadowed to no one his
future eminence. See Daniel Webster, the great expounder of the
American Constitution, sitting, in his boyhood, upon a log in his
father's mill, and studying portions of that Constitution which were
printed upon a new pocket-handkerchief; a trivial incident at the
time, but now bearing an important relation to that period of his life
when his fame extended to every land. Recall the early life of Roger
Sherman, bound as an apprentice to a shoemaker in consequence of his
father's poverty, with little education and no ancestral fame to
assist him,--how exceeding small the promise that his name would yet
be prominent in his country's history! In like manner, the little
candle-making lad of Boston, in 1717, scarcely appears to be related
to the philosopher and statesman of the same name, in 1775. But the
hand of God is in the lives of men as really as in the history of
nations.

The reader should not make use of the fact that Franklin, and other
eminent men, enjoyed small opportunities to acquire knowledge, as a
plea that he himself need not be kept in school for a series of
years. It is true that a little mental improvement may work wonders
for a person in some circumstances, and it should lead us to inquire,
if a little will accomplish so much, what will greater advantages do
for him? A very little knowledge of electricity once saved the life of
Benjamin Russell in his youth. He was an eminent citizen of Boston,
born in the year 1761, and in his younger years he had learned from
the writings of Franklin, who had become a philosopher, that it was
dangerous to take shelter, during a thunder-shower, under a tree, or
in a building not protected with lightning-rods. One day, in company
with several associates, he was overtaken by a tempest, and some of
the number proposed that they should take shelter under a large tree
near by, while others advised to enter a neighbouring barn. But young
Russell opposed both plans, and counselled going under a large
projecting rock as the safest place. The result showed that a little
knowledge of electricity was of great service to him; for both the
barn and the tree were struck by lightning. But neither Benjamin
Russell, nor any one else, from that day to this, would think of
saying that there is no need of knowing much about electricity, since
a little knowledge of it will do so much good. They might say it as
reasonably, however, as a youth can say that there is no need of much
schooling, since Benjamin Franklin, and others, became honoured and
useful though they did not go to school after ten or twelve years of
age. The deep regret of all this class of influential men ever has
been, that their early advantages were so limited. George Stephenson,
who did not learn to read until he was eighteen years old, felt so
keenly on this point, that, when his own son became old enough to
attend school, he sat up nights and mended the shoes and clocks of his
neighbours, after having completed his day's labour, to obtain the
means of educating him.

[Illustration: The Rogue's Wharf.--See page 44.]

CHAPTER V.

THE ROGUE'S WHARF.

"All aboard!" exclaimed Benjamin, and so saying he bounded into the
boat that lay at the water's edge. "Now for a ride: only hurry up, and
make the oars fly;" and several boys leaped in after him from the
shaking, trampled quagmire on which they stood.

"We shall be heels over head in mud yet," said one of the number,
"unless we try to improve the marsh. There is certainly danger that we
shall go through that shaky place, and I scarcely know when we shall
stop, if we begin to go down."

"Let us build a wharf," said Benjamin, "and that will get rid of the
quagmire. It won't be a long job, if all take hold."

"Where will you get your lumber?" inquired John.

"Nowhere. We don't want any lumber, for stones are better," answered
Benjamin.

"It is worse yet to bring stones so far, and enough of them," added
John. "You must like to lift better than I do, to strain yourself in
tugging stones here."

"Look there," continued Benjamin, pointing to a heap of stones only a
few rods distant. "There are stones enough for our purpose, and one or
two hours is all the time we want to build a wharf with them."

"But those stones belong to the man who is preparing to build a house
there," said Fred. "The workmen are busy there now."

"That may all be," said Benjamin, "but they can afford to lend them to
us awhile. They will be just as good for their use after we have done
with them."

"Then you expect they will lend them to you, I perceive; but you'll be
mistaken," answered Fred.

"My mode of borrowing them is this,--we will go this evening, after
the workmen have gone home, and tug them over here, and make the wharf
long before bedtime;" and Benjamin looked queerly as he said it.

"And get ourselves into trouble thereby," replied another boy. "I will
agree to do it if you will bear all the blame of stealing them."

"Stealing!" exclaimed Benjamin. "It is not stealing to take such
worthless things as stones. A man couldn't sell an acre of them for a
copper."

"Well, anyhow, the men who have had the labour of drawing them there
won't thank you for taking them."

"I don't ask them to thank me. I don't think the act deserves any
thanks," and a roguish twinkle of the eye showed that he knew he was
doing wrong. And he added, "I reckon it will be a joke on the workmen
to-morrow morning to find their pile of stones missing."

"Let us do it," said John, who was taken with the idea of playing off
a joke. "I will do my part to carry the thing through."

"And I will do mine," said another; and by this time all were willing
to follow the example of Benjamin, their leader. Perhaps all were
afraid to say "No," according to the dictates of conscience, now that
the enterprise was indorsed by one or two of their number. Boys are
too often disposed to go "with the multitude to do evil." They are
often too cowardly to do what they know is right.

The salt marsh, bounding a part of the millpond where their boat lay,
was trampled into a complete quagmire. The boys were accustomed to
fish there at high water, and so many feet, so often treading on the
spot, reduced it to a very soft condition. It was over this miry marsh
that they proposed to build a wharf.

The evening was soon there, and the boys came together on their
rogue's errand. They surveyed the pile of stones, and found it ample
for their purpose, though it looked like a formidable piece of work to
move them.

"Some of them are bigger than two of us can lift," said Fred.

"Then three of us can hitch to and carry them," said Benjamin. "They
must all be worked into a wharf this evening. Let us begin,--there is
no time to lose."

"The largest must go first," said John. "They are capital ones for the
foundation. Come, two or three must take hold of this," at the same
time laying hold of one of the largest.

So they went to work with decided perseverance (the only commendable
thing about the transaction), sometimes three or four of them working
away at one stone, lifting and rolling it along. Benjamin was never
half so zealous in cutting candle-wicks as he was in perpetrating this
censurable act. He was second to no one of the number in cheerful
active service on this occasion.

The evening was not spent when the last stone was carried away, and
the wharf was finished,--a work of art that answered their purpose
very well, though it was not quite so imposing as Commercial Wharf is
now, and was not calculated to receive the cargo of a very large
Liverpool packet.

"What a capital place it makes for fishing!" exclaimed Fred. "It is
worth all it cost for that."

"Perhaps it will cost more than you think for before we get through
with it," said John. "We can tell better about that when the workmen
find their stones among the missing."

"I should like to hear what they will say," responded Benjamin, "when
they discover what we have done, though I hardly think they will pay
us much of a compliment. But I must hurry home, or I shall have
trouble there. Come on, boys, let us go."

At this they hastened to their homes, not designing to make known the
labours of the evening, if they could possibly avoid interrogation.
They knew that their parents would disapprove of the deed, and that no
excuse could shield them from merited censure. It was not strange,
then, that they were both afraid and ashamed to tell of what they had
done. But we will let twenty-four hours pass. On the following
evening, when Mr. Franklin took his seat at his fireside, Benjamin had
taken his book and was reading.

"Benjamin," said his father, "where was you last evening?"

Benjamin knew by his father's anxious look that there was trouble. He
imagined that he had heard of their enterprise on the previous
evening. After some hesitation, he answered, "I was down to the
water."

"What was you doing there?"

"We were fixing up a place for the boat."

"See that you tell the truth, Benjamin, and withhold nothing. I wish
to know what you did there."

"We built a wharf."

"What had you to build it with?"

"We built it of stones."

"And where did you get your stones?"

"There was a pile of them close by."

"Did they belong to you?"

"I suppose not."

"Did you not know that they belonged to the man who is building the
house?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then you deliberately resolved to steal them, did you?"

"It isn't stealing to take stones."

"Why, then, did you take them in the evening, after the workmen had
gone home? Why did you not go after them when the workmen were all
there?"

Benjamin saw that he was fairly caught, and that, bright as he was, he
could not get out of so bad a scrape unblamed. So he hung his head,
and did not answer his father's last question.

"I see plainly how it is," continued his father; "it is the
consequence of going out in the evening with the boys, which I must
hereafter forbid. I have been willing that you should go out
occasionally, because I have thought it might be better for you than
so much reading. But you have now betrayed my confidence, and I am
satisfied more than ever that boys should be at home in the evening,
trying to improve their minds. You have been guilty of an act that is,
quite flagrant, although it may have been done thoughtlessly. You
should have known better, after having received so much good
instruction as you have had at home."

"I did know better," frankly confessed Benjamin.

"And that makes your guilt so much the greater," added his father. "Do
you think you will learn a lesson from this, and never do the like
again?"

"I will promise that I never will."

Thus frankly did Benjamin confess his wrong, and ever after look upon
that act with regret. In mature age he referred to it, and called it
one of the first evil acts of his life. It was the second time he
_paid too dear for his whistle_.

If seems that the workmen missed their stones, when they first reached
the spot in the morning, and they soon discovered them nicely laid
into a wharf. The proprietor was indignant, and exerted himself to
learn who were the authors of the deed, and in the course of the day
he gained the information, and went directly, and very properly, to
their parents, to enter complaint. Thus all the boys were exposed, and
received just rebuke for their misdemeanor. Benjamin was convinced, as
he said of it many years afterwards, "that that which is not honest,
could not be truly useful."

We have referred to Benjamin's habit of reading. It had been his
custom to spend his evenings, and other leisure moments, in reading.
He was much pleased with voyages, and such writings as John Bunyan's.
The first books he possessed were the works of Bunyan, in separate
little volumes. After becoming familiar with them, he sold them in
order to obtain the means to buy "Burton's Historical Collections,"
which were small, cheap books, forty volumes in all. His father, also,
possessed a good number of books for those times, when books were
rare, and these he read through, although most of them were really
beyond his years, being controversial writings upon theology. His love
of reading was so great, that he even read works of this character
with a degree of interest. In the library, however, were three or four
books of somewhat different character. There was "Plutarch's Lives,"
in which he was deeply interested; also Defoe's "Essay on Projects."
But to no one book was he more indebted than to Dr. Mather's "Essay
to do Good." From this he derived hints and sentiments which had a
beneficial influence upon his after life. He said, forty or fifty
years afterwards, "It gave me a turn of thinking that had an influence
on some of the principal future events of my life." And he wrote to a
son of Cotton Mather, "I have always set a greater value on the
character of a doer of good, than on any other kind of reputation; and
if I have been, as you seem to think, a useful citizen, the public
owes the advantage of it to that book." Some of the sentiments of the
book which particularly impressed him were as follows: "It is possible
that the wisdom of a poor man may start a proposal that may save a
city, save a nation." "A mean (humble) mechanic,--who can tell what an
engine of good he may be, if humbly and wisely applied unto it?" "The
remembrance of having been the man that first moved a good law, were
better than a statue erected for one's memory." These, and similar
thoughts, stimulated his mind to action, and really caused him to
attempt what otherwise would have been impossible.

If Benjamin had been engaged as usual, in reading, on that unfortunate
evening, he would have escaped the guilt of an act that turned out to
be a serious matter rather than a joke. The habit of spending leisure
hours in poring over books, has saved many boys from vice and ruin.
Many more might have been saved, if they had been so fond of books as
to stay at home evenings to read. It is an excellent habit to form,
and tends to preserve the character unsullied, while it stores the
mind with useful knowledge.

We shall see, as we advance, that Benjamin became very systematic and
economical in the use of his time, that he might command every moment
possible to read. The benefit he derived from the exercise when he was
young caused him to address the following letter, many years
thereafter, to a bright, intelligent girl of his acquaintance. The
letter, being devoted to "_Advice on Reading_," is a valuable one to
young persons now.

     "I send my good girl the books I mentioned to her last night. I
     beg of her to accept of them as a small mark of my esteem and
     friendship. They are written in the familiar, easy manner for
     which the French are so remarkable, and afford a good deal of
     philosophic and practical knowledge, unembarrassed with the dry
     mathematics used by more exact reasoners, but which is apt to
     discourage young beginners.

     "I would advise you to read with a pen in your hand, and enter in
     a little book short hints of what you find that is curious, or
     that may be useful; for this will be the best method of
     imprinting such particulars on your memory, where they will be
     ready either for practice on some future occasion, if they are
     matters of utility, or, at least, to adorn and improve your
     conversation, if they are rather points of curiosity; and, as
     many of the terms of science are such as you cannot have met with
     in your common reading, and may therefore be unacquainted with, I
     think it would be well for you to have a good dictionary at hand,
     to consult immediately when you meet with a word you do not
     comprehend the precise meaning of.

     "This may, at first, seem troublesome and interrupting; but it is
     a trouble that will daily diminish, as you will daily find less
     and less occasion for your dictionary, as you become more
     acquainted with the terms; and, in the meantime, you will read
     with more satisfaction, because with more understanding. When any
     point occurs in which you would be glad to have further
     information than your book affords you, I beg that you would not
     in the least apprehend that I should think it a trouble to
     receive and answer your questions. It will be a pleasure and no
     trouble. For though I may not be able, out of my own little stock
     of knowledge, to afford you what you require, I can easily direct
     you to the books where it may most readily be found. Adieu, and
     believe me ever, my dear friend,

                                                  "B. FRANKLIN."

CHAPTER VI.

TABLE TALK.

"Yes," replied Mr. Franklin, to the inquiry of a friend who was dining
with him; "my ancestors were inured to hardships, and I myself am not
altogether a stranger to them. I had but little opportunity of going
to school, and have always had to work hard for a livelihood."

"So much the better for you now," replied his friend; "for in this new
country, and these hard times, you cannot find the support of a large
family an easy matter."

"That is true; but I have never regretted coming to this country. The
liberty of worshipping God according to the dictates of conscience, is
one of the richest blessings, and more than compensates for the trial
of leaving my native land."

"Then you experienced the rigours of intolerance there, in some
measure, did you?"

"Oh yes; my forefathers adhered to the Protestant faith through the
reign of Mary, and were often in great danger from the bitter hatred
of the Papists. I sometimes wonder that they did not forfeit their
lives in those days of persecution."

"I can relate to you one interesting fact," interrupted Uncle
Benjamin, addressing himself to the guest. "Our ancestors possessed an
English Bible, which they valued highly, of course; but there was
danger of losing it, through the craftiness and hostility of the Papal
powers. They held the Protestant Bible in absolute contempt. So, to
conceal their Bible, at the same time they could enjoy the reading of
it, they 'fastened it open with tapes under and within the cover of a
joint-stool.' When our great-grandfather desired to read it to his
family, according to his daily custom, 'he placed the joint-stool on
his knees, and then turned over the leaves under the tapes.' While he
was reading, one of the children was stationed at the door to give the
alarm if he should see 'the apparitor coming, who was an officer of
the spiritual court.' If the officer was seen approaching, the stool
was immediately set down upon its feet, and the Bible in this way was
concealed from view. For a considerable time they were obliged to read
the Scriptures in this secret manner."

"But your father was not thus persecuted, was he?" inquired the
friend.

"He was not persecuted to such a degree," answered Uncle Benjamin,
"though he had some experience of this kind; and even brother Josias
and myself did not escape. Our father's family continued in the Church
of England till about the end of Charles the Second's reign, when
Josias and I joined the Nonconformists, and subjected ourselves to
much contempt."

"And that is the reason I am in this country now," said Mr. Franklin.
"We enjoyed few privileges, and frequently our religious meetings were
disturbed, as they were forbidden by law. On this account some of my
acquaintances resolved to remove to this country, and I decided to
join them."

"How long ago was that?"

"It was about 1685, so that you will perceive I am one of the old
settlers of America. I have been here long enough to witness many
changes, and have no desire to return to my native country. My
children can scarcely appreciate how much they enjoy, in comparison
with the experience of their ancestors."

Benjamin had often heard the last remark, as a reminder of his
obligations to be good and useful. Indeed, this whole tale of
persecution he had listened to over and over, and had heard his Uncle
Benjamin tell the story of the Bible and stool a number of times. He
had come to the conclusion that he was faring better than his father
did, although he did not think his own lot remarkably flattering.

This conversation at the dinner-table was a specimen of what
frequently occurred there in the way of remark. Mr. Franklin was
gratified to have some intelligent friend at his table with him, that
they might converse upon some useful topics, for the benefit of his
children. When he had no guest at his table, he would call the
attention of his children to some subject calculated to improve their
minds, thinking, at the same time, that it would serve to draw off
their attention from their humble fare. Children are apt to find fault
with the food set before them, and perhaps the reader himself has more
than once fretted over an unpalatable dish, and murmured for something
else. Sometimes they beg for an article of food that is not on the
table, declining to eat what is furnished for the family. It was not
so at Mr. Franklin's table. He did not allow one of his children to
complain of the food, however simple it might be; and his principal
method of calling off their attention from the quality of their
victuals was, as we have said, to converse upon some sensible theme.
Their attention being directed to other things, they were seldom
troubled about their food, and became almost indifferent to what was
placed on the table. Benjamin said, in his manhood, on referring to
this subject: "I am so unobservant of it, that to this day I can
scarcely tell, a few hours after dinner, of what dishes it consisted.
This has been a great convenience to me in travelling, where my
companions have been sometimes very unhappy for the want of a
suitable gratification of their more delicate, because better
instructed tastes and appetites."

The guests of Mr. Franklin being usually intelligent, their
conversation was instructive to the children, who acquired thereby
many valuable items of information. The condition and prospects of the
country, the oppressive measures of the English government, and the
means of future prosperity, were among the topics which they heard
discussed. Although it seems like a small, unimportant influence to
bring to bear upon tender childhood, yet it left its mark upon their
characters. They had more interest in the public questions of the day,
and more general intelligence in consequence.

It is related of the Washburne family, of which four or five brothers
occupy posts of political distinction in the United States, that in
their early life their father's house was open to ministers, and was
sometimes called "the minister's hotel." Mr. Washburne was a great
friend of this class, and enjoyed their society much. At all times
nearly, some one of the ministerial fraternity would be stopping
there. His sons were thus brought into their society, and they
listened to long discussions upon subjects of a scientific, political,
and religious character, though public measures received a large share
of attention. The boys acquired some valuable information by
listening to their remarks, and this created a desire to read and
learn more; and so they were started off in a career that bids fair to
reflect honour both upon themselves and their country. Their early
advantages were few, but the conversation of educated men, upon
important subjects, laid the foundation of their eminence in public
life.

"You must give heed to little things," Mr. Franklin would frequently
say to his sons, when they appeared to think that he was too
particular about some things, such as behaviour at the table,
"although nothing can really be considered small that is important. It
is of far more consequence how you behave, than what you wear."

Sometimes, if the meal was unusually plain (and it was never
extravagant), he would say, "Many people are too particular about
their victuals. They destroy their health by eating too much and too
rich food. Plain, simple, wholesome fare is all that nature requires,
and young persons who are brought up in this way will be best off in
the end."

Such kind of remarks frequently greeted the ears of young Benjamin; so
that, as we have already seen, he grew up without caring much about
the kind of food which he ate. Perhaps here is to be found the origin
of those rigidly temperate principles in both eating and drinking, for
which he was distinguished all through his life. In his manhood, he
wrote and talked upon the subject, and reduced his principles to
practice. When he worked as a printer in England, his fellow-labourers
were hard drinkers of strong beer, really believing that it was
necessary to make them competent to endure fatigue. They were
astonished to see a youth like Benjamin able to excel the smartest of
them in the printing-office, while he drank only cold water, and they
sneeringly called him "the Water-American."

The temperate habits which Benjamin formed in his youth were the more
remarkable, because there were no temperance societies at that time,
and it was generally supposed to be necessary to use intoxicating
drinks. The evils of intemperance were not viewed with so much
abhorrence as they are now, and the project of removing them from
society was not entertained for a moment. Reformatory movements, in
this respect, did not commence until nearly one hundred years after
the time referred to. Yet Benjamin was fully persuaded in his youth
that he ought to be temperate in all things. Probably there was not
one of his associates who believed as he did on the subject. But he
began early to think for himself, and this, with the excellent
discipline of his wise and sagacious father, caused him to live in
advance of those around him. It is not probable that he adopted the
principle of total abstinence, and abstained entirely from the use of
intoxicating drinks; but he was not in the habit of using it as a
daily, indispensable beverage.

That the practice of Benjamin's father, to allow no finding fault with
the food at the table, and to lead the way in profitable conversation,
was a good one, we think no one can deny. It was very different,
however, from much of the table-talk that is heard in families.
Conversation is frequently brisk and lively, but it often runs in this
way:--

"I don't want any of that, I don't like it," exclaimed Henry. "I
should think you might have a better dinner than this."

"What would you have if you could get it,--roast chicken and plum
pudding?" inquires his mother, laughing, instead of reproving him for
his error.

"I would have something I can eat. You know I don't like that, and
never did."

"Well, it does boys good, sometimes, to eat what they don't like,
especially such particular ones as you are," says his father.

"I shan't eat what I don't like, at any rate," continues Henry, "I
shall go hungry first."

"There, now," added his father, "let me hear no more complaint about
your food. You are scarcely ever suited with your victuals."

"May I have some ----?" calling for some article not on the table.

"If you will hold your tongue, and get it yourself, you can have it."

"And let me have some, too!" shouts James, a younger brother; "I don't
like this, neither. May I have some, father?"

"And I too," said Jane, setting up her plea. "I must have some if they
do."

In this way the table-talk proceeds, until fretting, scolding, crying,
make up the sum total of the conversation, and family joys are
embittered for the remainder of the day. Finding fault with food is
the occasion of all the unhappiness.

Let the reader ask himself how much he has contributed to make
conversation at the table proper and instructive. Has he thought more
of the quality of his food than of anything else at the family board?
If the review of the past reveals an error in this respect, let him
learn a valuable lesson from this part of Benjamin Franklin's life.
Though it may seem to be an unimportant matter, accept the testimony
of Benjamin himself, and believe that it leaves its impress upon the
future character.

CHAPTER VII.

CHOOSING A TRADE.

"You will have to be a tallow-chandler, after all, when your brother
gets married and goes away," said one of Benjamin's associates to him.
He had heard that an older son of Mr. Franklin, who worked at the
business with his father, was about to be married, and would remove to
Rhode Island, and set up business for himself.

"Not I," replied Benjamin. "I shall work at it no longer than I am
obliged to do."

"That may be, and you be obliged to work at it all your life. It will
be, as your father says, till you are twenty-one years old."

"I know that; but my father does not desire to have me work in his
shop against my wishes--only till I can find some other suitable
employment. I would rather go to sea than anything."

"Are your parents not willing that you should go to sea?"

"No; they won't hear a word about it. I have talked with them till it
is of no use. They seem to think that I should be shipwrecked, or
that something else would happen, to prevent my return."

"Then, if you can't go to sea, and you won't be a tallow-chandler,
what can you do?"

"I hardly know myself; but almost anything is preferable to this
greasy business. If people had no more light than the candles I should
make, unless I was obliged, they would have a pretty dark time of it."

"I don't think it is a very disagreeable business," continued his
companion. "It is quite easy work, certainly,--much more to my liking
than sawing wood, and some other things I could name."

"It may be easy," replied Benjamin; "but it is dirty and simple. It
requires no ingenuity to do all that I do. Almost any simpleton could
cut wicks and fill candle-moulds. A fellow who can't do it couldn't
tell which side his bread is buttered. _I_ prefer to do something that
requires thought and ingenuity."

"There is something in that; but I guess it will take all your
ingenuity to work yourself out of the tallow-chandler's business,"
responded his friend, rather dryly.

This conversation occurred one day in the shop, when Mr. Franklin was
out. But just at this point he returned, and soon after the young
visitor left. Benjamin was not acquainted with all his father's plans,
and he had actually proceeded further than he was aware of towards
introducing him into another calling, as the following conversation
with Mrs. F., on the previous evening, will show--

"I have resolved to find some other employment for Benjamin at once,"
said he; "as John is to be married so soon, he will be able to render
me but little more assistance, and I must have some one to take his
place."

"Are you satisfied," inquired Mrs. Franklin, "that Benjamin cannot be
prevailed upon to take the place of John in your shop?"

"Oh, yes! he is so dissatisfied with the business, that I fear he will
yet go to sea, unless his attention is soon turned to some other
pursuit. Then, if he has a taste for any other honourable pursuit, I
am willing that he should follow it. He would not accomplish much at
candle-making with his present feelings."

"Have you anything in view for him to do?" asked Mrs. F.

"Not positively. I want to learn, if I can, whether he has taste and
tact for any particular business. If he has, he will accomplish more
in that. I don't believe in compelling a boy to follow a pursuit for
which he has no relish, unless it is where nothing else offers."

"I think it is very necessary for boys to have a definite trade," said
Mrs. F.; "they are more likely to succeed than those who are changing
often from one thing to another. 'A rolling stone gathers no moss,' is
an old saying."

"That is the principal reason for my plan to introduce him into some
other business soon. No one feels the importance of this more than I
do, and I have pretty thoroughly imbued the mind of Benjamin with the
same views. I think he has a desire to follow a definite calling,
though now his taste seems to draw him towards a seafaring life."

Benjamin could have appreciated this last remark, if it had been
uttered in his hearing. For he had listened to so much counsel upon
this point, that he had no desire to run from one thing to another.
And he continued to cherish this feeling. When he became a man, he
wrote the following maxims, among the many of which he was the
author:--

     "He that hath a trade hath an estate."

     "He that hath a calling hath an office of honour."

Here he taught the same lesson that he received from the lips of his
father and mother when he was young. A trade is the assurance of a
livelihood, however hard the times may be. As a general rule, they who
follow trades secure a living, when they who have none come to want
and suffer.

But to return. Mr. Franklin rather surprised Benjamin by saying, after
his associate left the shop, "I have decided on finding some other
business for you immediately, if possible. I hope to find some opening
for your learning an agreeable trade."

"Where shall you go to find one?" inquired Benjamin, scarcely
expecting to have his wishes gratified so early. "Have you any
particular trade in view?"

"No; I want to consult your tastes about the matter first; and I
propose to go to-morrow with you, to see what we can find."

"And I go with you, did you say?"

"Yes; I wish to have you witness some things to which I shall call
your attention, and decide for yourself what calling to follow."

"Where will you go?" inquired Benjamin, deeply interested in the plan,
as well he might be.

"I shall not go out of town. Boston furnishes good examples of the
different trades, and we shall not be under the necessity of extending
our researches beyond its limits. So to-morrow I think we will start."

Benjamin was delighted with the prospect of being delivered soon from
the tallow-chandler's shop, and he anticipated the morrow with
considerable impatience. He rejoiced when the light of the next
morning came in at his chamber window, and brighter and earlier he was
up to await his father's bidding. Suitable preparations were made, and
directly after breakfast they set forth upon their important errand.
The first shop they visited was that of a joiner, where he saw the
plane and hammer used to advantage. He had witnessed such labour
before, and also seen other employments to which his father called his
attention on that day; but he never observed these different trades
with the object which now brought him to the shops. Having spent some
time at the joiner's bench, he next went to a turner's place of
business, where he saw different articles turned to order, in so rapid
a manner as to surprise him. He was more interested in the
turning-lathe, and its rapid movement, than he was in the use of
joiner's tools. Passing through a prominent street, after leaving the
turner's, they came to an unfinished structure, on which bricklayers
were employed. Here another trade was on exhibition, and Benjamin's
attention was called to it, and the various kind of labour which this
class of toilers were obliged to perform were explained to him. In
this way they visited other work-shops, until they had seen the
practical operations of the different trades, and Benjamin understood
what kind of toil each required. One of the last shops they visited
was that of Samuel Franklin, a son of Uncle Benjamin, and, of course,
a cousin of Benjamin. He learned the trade of cutler in London, and
had just come over and established himself in Boston. The business of
a cutler is to make knives and other cutting instruments, in some
respects a very interesting and attractive trade. Benjamin was
evidently more pleased with this kind of business than any he had seen
on that day. Whether it grew out of boyish love for jack-knives, or
was the consequence of closely observing the ingenious modes of
manufacturing cutlery, we need not say. It is enough to know that he
was partially captivated by the trade, and before they reached home
his father was well satisfied which trade he would select, though he
had not questioned him at all on this point.

"What trade have you decided to follow, Benjamin?" inquired his
mother, as they sat at the tea-table; and she let fall a most loving
smile upon her boy.

"I think any of them are better than making candles," he replied,
"although I like Samuel's trade the best of all."

"That is just what I expected," said his father, laughingly. "I saw
that you fell in love with his work, and I think myself that it is a
very pleasant and promising business."

"So you will decide to take that trade, will you?" said his mother.

"In preference to all the trades I have seen yet," said Benjamin.

"He is after a pocket knife," interrupted John, who sat at the table,
speaking in a vein of pleasantry. "I see clearly what has taken _his_
eye."

"I suppose John will never care more about a knife, now he is going
to have a wife," added Mr. Franklin, addressing his remark to
Benjamin, in order to help him out of the predicament into which
John's remark had placed him. "But did you not like the brazier's
business?"

"Yes, sir; I liked it very well, but not so well as I do the cutler's
trade. If I can have my choice I shall choose that, and will begin
to-morrow, if you are willing."

"I shall make no objection, if that is your decision," replied his
father. "I want you should weigh the matter carefully, however, and
not be hasty in choosing."

"It remains to be seen whether Samuel will take him as an apprentice,"
said Mrs. Franklin. "Perhaps he may not want one. He has just
commenced, and cannot be doing much business yet."

"Father can easily learn that," said Benjamin. "He can see cousin
Samuel to-morrow, and decide the matter at once."

"I will see him to-morrow," said his father, "and arrange for you to
go into his shop if possible."

On the following day, Mr. Franklin called upon Samuel, his nephew, and
made known the wishes of Benjamin. Although it was a new and
unexpected subject, yet he received it favourably, and finally decided
that Benjamin might come immediately, and try his hand at this new
business. He thought it was best for both parties that no definite
agreement or bargain should be made until Benjamin had tried the work,
to which his father assented.

Accordingly, Benjamin entered upon his new trade immediately, and was
much pleased with it. It was so different from the work of
candle-making, and required so much more thought and ingenuity, that
he was prepared to pronounce it "first rate." It was with a light and
cheerful heart that he went to each day's task.

Mr. Franklin acted wisely in consulting the inclination of his son
about a trade. A boy may have more qualifications for one pursuit than
another; and this will generally be made manifest in the bent of his
mind. He will exhibit a degree of tact for one calling, while he may
be a blunderer at almost anything else. This characteristic is more
remarkable with some boys than with others, and a disregard of it
often entails unhappiness upon a whole family. When Handel, the
distinguished musician, was a child, his father strictly forbade his
listening to a note of music, or indulging his talent for the art.
Although he exhibited remarkable musical abilities, his father paid no
regard to the fact, but was determined to rear him to the profession
of law. He ordered all musical instruments to be carried out of the
house, and made it as difficult as possible for his son to gratify his
taste for sweet sounds. But through the assistance of a servant, the
boy obtained an instrument, which he kept in the garret; and there,
when opportunity offered, with the strings of his "clavichord" so
covered with pieces of cloth as to deaden the sound, he practised
music until he became a proficient in harmony. It was not, however,
until his father took him on a visit to see an elder brother, who was
in the family of the Prince of Saxe-Weisenfels, that he became
acquainted with the progress he had made in his loved art. While there
he happened to go into the royal chapel just as the service was
closing, when he glided up to the organ, unperceived, and commenced
playing. The Prince was on the point of retiring; but he stopped, and
inquired who was playing. He was told that it was young Handel, only
seven years old; whereupon the Prince ordered the boy and his father
to be summoned into his presence. The result of the interview was,
that the Prince arranged for Handel to be placed for tuition under the
organist of Halle Cathedral, where he soon became renowned. Posterity
has not failed to condemn the unwise discipline of his father, in
disregarding his inclination for a given pursuit.

When Sir Joshua Reynolds was a boy, he was inclined to embrace every
opportunity to gratify his taste for drawing. His father had no
sympathy with him in thus spending his time, and he sought to repress
his aspirations of this kind. One day he discovered that Joshua had
disfigured his exercise-book with a number of well-executed drawings;
but, instead of encouraging his talents in this line, he sharply
rebuked him, and wrote underneath the sketches, "_Done by Joshua out
of pure idleness._" His father was anxious that he should become a
physician, and therefore he looked with no favour upon his propensity
for drawing. But for the irrepressible power of genius, his unwise
father would have deprived the world of one of its most gifted
painters.

The father of John Smeaton pursued a like censurable course in the
discipline of his son. He frowned upon those early developments of
genius that foreshadowed the renowned engineer that he became. When
only four or five years of age, he was often seen dividing circles and
squares. He rejected the toys that other children used, preferring
tools with which he could construct machines. When only six or seven
years of age, he was discovered on the roof of the barn, much to the
consternation of his father and mother, fixing up a windmill of his
own construction. Soon afterwards having seen some men repairing a
pump, he procured from them a piece of bored pipe, he made one of his
own, with which he could raise water. At fourteen years of age he made
an engine to turn rose-work, and many were his presents of boxes of
wood and ivory turned by himself. He made all his tools for working
wood, ivory, and metals. He also invented a lathe for cutting a
perpetual screw in brass. And yet his father was determined to make a
lawyer of him, and thus spoil the mechanic. He actually disregarded
all these proofs of mechanical genius, and sent him to London to be
educated for the bar; and it was not until his father began to see the
impossibility of making a good attorney of him, that he consented to
let him follow the profession which the bent of his genius plainly
marked out.

The father of Benjamin Franklin acted more wisely in the first place,
and resolved to educate him in that pursuit for which nature had best
qualified him.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE PRINTER-BOY.

After Benjamin had worked at cutlery a suitable time, his father went
to close the bargain, and make out the papers for his apprenticeship.
But, to his surprise, his nephew demanded such conditions that Mr.
Franklin could not think of accepting his proposition; and the result
was, that he took Benjamin away, much to his disappointment. The boy
submitted to his father's decision, however, with true filial
obedience, evidently believing that he had good reasons for taking
such a stand. Now he was neither a tallow-chandler nor a cutler,
though not destined to be long without employment.

Just before this juncture, as if Providence ordered events on
Benjamin's account, his brother James returned from England, where he
learned the printer's trade. He brought with him a good press, and
type, in order to establish himself in Boston.

"How would you like to learn the printer's trade with your brother
James?" inquired Mr. Franklin of Benjamin. "I have been thinking that
it was a good thing you did not continue the cutlery business, because
you have superior qualifications for this."

"What qualifications have I for this that I have not for the cutler's
trade?" asked Benjamin.

"You are a good reader, and have an intellectual turn, being fond of
books, and such things belonging to mental improvement as the trade of
printer offers."

"I think I should like the business very well," added Benjamin.
"Perhaps I should have a better opportunity to read than I should with
cousin Samuel."

"Of course you would. For the very matter you may be required to put
into type may be as interesting and profitable as anything you could
find in a book. All that you read in books went through the printer's
hand first."

"I had not thought of that before. I think I should like the business
better than almost anything I know of. How long will it take to learn
the trade?"

"It will take some time," answered Mr. Franklin. "You are now twelve
years of age, and you can certainly acquire the best knowledge of the
business by the time you are twenty-one years old."

"That is a long time," said Benjamin; "but I shall do what you think
best."

"I want _you_ should think it is best, too," said his father. "If you
have no inclination to be a printer, I do not wish to have you
undertake it. I have no confidence that you will succeed in any
business for which you have no taste."

"Well, I think better of this business now than I do of any other,"
replied Benjamin, "and I should like to try it."

"I will speak with James about it," said his father, "and see what
arrangements can be made. The prospects of the business are not very
flattering at present, but I think the day is coming when it will
thrive."

Mr. Franklin lost no time in consulting James, who favoured the plan
without any reserve. He proposed to take Benjamin as an apprentice, to
serve until he was twenty-one years of age, having only his board and
clothes until the last year, when he would receive journeyman's wages.
This was a good opportunity on the whole, for printing was in its
infancy in America at that time. It is probable that not more than six
or eight persons had been in the business in Boston before James
Franklin commenced, in the year 1717. The demand for printing must
have been very small indeed.

When Mr. Franklin first made known to Benjamin the conditions on which
James would receive him into the printing-office, and that he would be
expected to sign the indenture, and leave his father's roof for such a
boarding-place as his brother might provide, he hesitated about
taking the step. He stated his objections frankly and fully to his
father, who removed them without much difficulty, so that the writings
were drawn up, and Benjamin placed his signature to them and was
henceforth a "Boston printer's boy."

He had not laboured long at the business before he was quite
fascinated with it. He liked it better even than he expected. He
exhibited, too, a good degree of tact for it, and his progress in
learning the art was rapid. His brother was highly gratified with his
close attention to his business, and commended him for the use he made
of his leisure moments in reading. He was introduced now to another
class of acquaintances, so that his opportunities for getting books to
read were more favourable. The printing-office was frequented by
booksellers' apprentices, whose employers necessarily wanted jobs of
printing done. Through them Benjamin was made acquainted with the
limited stock of books the market afforded.

"I will lend you that book to-night," said one of these apprentices to
him, "if you will return it clean in the morning," alluding to a
certain volume which Benjamin was looking over in the book-store.

"I should be glad to read it," answered Benjamin; "I think I can read
it through before I go to bed, and so return it in the morning when I
go to the office."

"You won't have much time left for sleep, if you read that book
through before you go to bed," said the apprentice.

"Perhaps not; but I can afford to make a short night's rest of it, if
I can have the reading of this book. I shall not mind that, and I can
return it without a blemish."

"The book is for sale," continued the apprentice, "and we might have a
call for it to-morrow, or I would let you keep it longer. If you do
not read it all to-night, and we do not sell it to-morrow, you can
take it home with you again to-morrow night. I frequently read a
volume through, a little at a time, before we have a chance to sell
it."

"You may be sure of having this in the morning, safe and sound," said
Benjamin, as he left the store, thanking his friend for the kind
favour.

He went home, and sat up most of the night to read the book, being
more deeply interested in its contents than he was in pleasant dreams.
A short nap, after the volume was finished, was all that time could
afford him; and the bookseller got his book, and the printing-office
its apprentice, in good season.

This was but a single instance of the favours he received in this way
from his new acquaintances in the book business. Many nights he stole
from sleep, that he might read volumes which he must return in the
morning. In this way his mind was much improved, so that he began to
be noticed in the office as a boy of great promise. One day Mr.
Matthew Adams, a merchant of rank and influence, who had been
attracted by Benjamin's appearance, said to him: "Do you find time to
read any, with all the work you have to perform?"

"Yes, sir," replied Benjamin; "I read in the evenings, and
occasionally find a little time during the day."

"It is an excellent plan for boys to improve their minds," said Mr.
Adams; "you will never regret spending your time in this way. I should
be glad to show you my library, and to lend you any books you may be
interested to read."

"That is what I should like," said Benjamin, evidently delighted with
this unexpected offer; "I find it difficult to get all the books I
want."

"It would afford me great pleasure to assist you what little I can in
this respect," repeated Mr. Adams. "Boys who are not privileged to go
to school need such help, and I am glad to see that you are disposed
to accept of it."

Benjamin thanked him for his kindness, and assured him that he should
embrace the first opportunity to call at his house. He redeemed his
promise at his earliest convenience, and Mr. Adams received him with
genuine cordiality. He showed him his library, and allowed him to
select any book he preferred to carry home, and invited him to come as
often as he pleased for others. This was a brimful cup of kindness to
Benjamin, and the reader may be sure that he thought highly of Mr.
Adams. Nor was he backward in availing himself of the privilege
offered, but went often to gratify his thirst for knowledge.

The reader can scarcely appreciate the value of this privilege to
Benjamin, unless he understands that books were far from being
abundant then. The bookstores, instead of being furnished with
thousands of volumes to suit every taste in the reading world, offered
only a meagre collection of volumes, such as would hardly be noticed
at the present time. There were no large publishing houses,
manufacturing many books in a year, and scattering them over the land,
as is the case to-day. Neither were there any libraries at that time.
The idea of a collection of books to lend for the public good had not
entered the minds of men,--a striking contrast with this feature of
society now, when a city like Boston opens its splendid Public Library
of seventy-five thousand volumes, free to all her citizens, and
smaller towns and villages throughout the land furnish reading matter
for old and young in similar proportion; whilst private libraries of
five, ten, twenty, and thirty thousand volumes are not unusual. Now,
the trouble with boys is not how they can possibly get books to read,
but what they shall select from the vast number that load the shelves
of libraries and bookstores.

The habit of reading which Benjamin had thus early formed served to
make him punctual. In order to command the more time, he was promptly
at his work, and efficiently discharged every duty. He was seldom, if
ever, caught in tardiness. It was this well-formed habit of
punctuality that made him so reliable in the printing-office. His
brother knew that he would be there at such a time, and that he would
remain just so many hours. This fact won his confidence, as it does
the confidence of every one. There is no quality that does more to
gain a good name for an individual, and inspire the confidence of his
fellow-men, than this one of punctuality. It is so generally found in
company with other excellent traits of character, that it seems to be
taken for granted, usually, that the punctual person is worthy in
other respects. This quality contributed to the renown and influence
of Lord Brougham, of whom it is said, that, when he was in the zenith
of his glory, presiding in the House of Lords and the Court
of Chancery, he found time to manage eight or ten public
associations,--one of which was the Society for the Diffusion of
Useful Knowledge,--and he was a pattern of punctuality in every place,
being always in the chair when the hour for meeting arrived.

CHAPTER IX.

FIRST LITERARY ENTERPRISE.

"What have you there?" inquired James, one day, looking over
Benjamin's shoulder at some composition which he held in his hand.
"Ay! poetry, is it? Then you are a poet, are you? Let me read it."

Benjamin rather hesitated to exhibit the first attempts of his muse to
fly, but James was determined to read it, and so he gave it up to him,
saying, "I was only seeing what I could do."

The fact was, Benjamin had been reading poetry, and, having a little
of its spirit in his own nature, he was tempted to try his ability at
writing some.

"That is really good," said James, after he had read it; "not quite
equal to Virgil or Homer, but very good for a printer-boy to write.
Have you any other pieces?"

"Two or three more," answered Benjamin, somewhat encouraged by his
brother's commendation; "but they are not worth reading."

"Produce them," said James, "and I will tell you what they are worth."
Whereupon Benjamin took two or three more from his pockets, which
James read with evident satisfaction.

"I tell you what it is, Benjamin," said James after having read them
all, "you can write something worth printing if you try; and if you
will undertake it, you may print and sell a sheet in the streets. I
have no doubt that it would sell well."

"I will see what I can do," replied Benjamin, "though I suspect my
poetry won't read very well in print."

Benjamin was not long in producing two street ballads, better,
perhaps, than anything he had written before, but still susceptible of
very great improvement. One was entitled "The Lighthouse Tragedy," and
was founded on the shipwreck of Captain Worthilake and his two
daughters. The other was a sailor's song, on the capture of the famous
"Teach," or "Bluebeard," the pirate. James read them with approbation.

"Now," said he, "you shall put them into type, and sell them about the
town, if you are willing. I have no doubt that a good number of them
may be disposed of."

"How many copies of them would you print?" inquired Benjamin.

"We can print a few to begin with, and let the type remain standing
until we see how they go. Then we shall run no risk."

"Shall I do it immediately?"

"As soon as you can," answered James. "The quicker the better."

Benjamin was not long in printing the two ballads, and having them
ready for sale. Under the direction of his brother, he went forth, in
due time, to offer them about the town. Whether he cried them about
the streets, as the newsboys do the daily papers now, we have no means