BACK AGAIN.
On his return, Benjamin sailed in a sloop to New York, where he had
arranged to meet Collins. They put in at Newport on business, where he
had a good opportunity to visit his brother John, who had been married
and settled there some years. He received a very hearty and
affectionate welcome from his brother, who was always kind and true to
him. His stay was short, as he must go when the sloop did, but he made
the most of it, and enjoyed himself much during the short time. Just
before he left Newport, a friend of his brother, a Mr. Vernon,
requested him to collect a debt for him in Pennsylvania, of about
thirty-five pounds currency, and use the money as he pleased until he
should call for it. Accordingly, he gave Benjamin an order to receive
it.
At Newport they took in a number of passengers, among whom was a
Quaker lady and her servants, and two young women. Benjamin was very
attentive in assisting the Quaker lady about her baggage, for which
she was very thankful. He soon became acquainted with the two young
women, and they laughed and chatted together. They were handsomely
attired, appeared intelligent, and were extremely sociable. The
motherly Quaker lady saw that there was a growing familiarity between
them, and she called Benjamin aside, feeling for him somewhat as she
would for a son, and said: "Young man, I am concerned for thee, as
thou hast no friend with thee, and seems not to know much of the
world, or of the snares youth is exposed to; depend upon it, these are
very bad women; I can see it by all their actions; and if thou art not
upon thy guard, they will draw thee into some danger; they are
strangers to thee, and I advise thee, in a friendly concern for thy
welfare, to have no acquaintance with them."
"Indeed," said Benjamin, with much surprise, "I see nothing out of the
way in them. They are intelligent and social; and I am rather
surprised at your suspicions."
"But I have heard them say enough to convince me that my suspicions
are well founded," replied the old lady; and she repeated to him some
of their conversation which she had overheard.
"You are right, then," quickly answered Benjamin, after listening to
her. "I am much obliged to you for your advice, and I will heed it."
Just before they arrived at New York, the young women invited him to
call at their residence, naming the street and number, but he did not
accept their invitation. The next day the captain missed a silver
spoon and other things from the cabin, and suspecting the two girls,
had their residence searched, where the missing articles were found,
in consequence of which the artful thieves were punished. Benjamin
always felt thankful to the old lady for her timely warning, and
considered that following her advice probably saved him from trouble
and ruin.
Collins had been in New York several days when Benjamin arrived. The
latter was astounded to find him intoxicated when they met.
"Can it be," he exclaimed to Collins, "that you are intemperate?"
"I intemperate!" retorted Collins, disposed to resent the accusation.
"Do you call me drunk?"
"No, you are not exactly drunk; but then you are disguised with
liquor, and I am utterly astonished. Once you was as temperate and
industrious as any young man in Boston, and far more respected than
most of them. How did it happen that you formed this evil habit?"
Collins saw that he could not deceive Benjamin; so he made a clean
breast of the matter, and confessed to have formed intemperate habits
soon after Benjamin first left Boston. He said that his appetite for
brandy was strong, and that he had been intoxicated every day since
his arrival in New York.
"I have lost all my money," he said, "and have nothing to pay my
bills."
"Lost your money!" exclaimed Benjamin. "How did you lose that?"
"I lost it by gaming," he replied.
"What! a gambler, too?"
"Yes, if you will have it so," answered Collins, somewhat coolly; "and
you must lend me money to pay my bills."
"If I had known this," continued Benjamin, "I would not have persuaded
you to leave Boston. And here let me tell you, that it is impossible
for you to find a situation unless you reform."
"Perhaps so," answered Collins; "but that is not the question now that
interests me. I want to know whether you will lend me money to pay my
bills here and go on my journey?"
"I must, for aught I see," replied Benjamin. "I should not leave you
here without money and friends, of course, for that would be cruel.
But you must try to reform."
Collins was a very clever young man, as we have seen, possessing
marked mathematical talents, and he might have become one of the first
scholars of his day, had he enjoyed the advantages of a course of
study. Some of the clergymen of Boston showed him much attention on
account of his abilities and love of books. But strong drink blasted
his hopes.
In New York, Benjamin received a message from Governor Burnet,
inviting him to call at his house. This was quite as unexpected as the
visit of Governor Keith, and he began to think that governors had a
passionate regard for him. He found, however, that the Governor had
learned from the captain of the sloop, that he had a young man on
board who brought with him a large number of books from Boston. This
interested the Governor, and was the occasion of his sending the
aforesaid invitation to Benjamin.
He accepted the invitation, and would have taken Collins with him if
the latter had been sober. Governor Burnet received him with much
cordiality, showed him his large library, and conversed freely about
books and authors for some time. It was an agreeable interview to
Benjamin, the more so because it was the second time that a Governor
had sought him out, and showed him attention.
They proceeded to Philadelphia. On the way Benjamin collected Vernon's
debt, which proved fortunate, since otherwise his money would not have
carried him through, from having had the bills of two to pay. A good
trip brought them safely to their place of destination, and Collins
boarded with Benjamin, at the latter's expense, waiting for an opening
in some counting-room.
The reader may be curious to learn the fate of Collins, and we will
briefly record it here. He tried to secure a situation, but his
dram-drinking habits frustrated his exertions. Every few days he went
to Benjamin for money, knowing that he had that of Vernon, always
promising to pay as soon as he found business. Benjamin, in the
kindness of his heart, lent him little by little, until he was
troubled to know what he should do if Vernon should call for the
money. Sometimes he lectured Collins severely for his habits, until
their friendship was essentially modified. One day they were in a boat
with other young men, on the Delaware, when Collins refused to row.
"We shall not row you," said Benjamin.
"You _will_ row me, or stay all night on the water, just as you
please," retorted Collins.
"We can stay as long as you can," continued Benjamin. "I shall not row
you."
"Come, Ben, let us row," said one of the young men. "If he don't want
to row let him sit still."
"Row him, if you wish to," replied Benjamin, "I shall not."
"Yes, you will," shouted Collins, starting from his seat. "I will be
rowed home, and you shall help do it, or I will throw you overboard;"
and he hurried to execute his threat. But, as he came up and struck at
him, Benjamin clapped his head under his thighs, and rising, threw
him head over heels into the river. He knew that Collins was a good
swimmer, so that he had no fears about his drowning.
"Will you row now?" he inquired, as Collins swam towards the boat.
"Not a stroke," he answered, angrily; whereupon they sent the boat
forward out of his reach, with one or two strokes of the oar. Again
and again they allowed him to approach the boat, when they repeated
the question: "Will you promise to row?" and as often received an
emphatic "No" for a reply. At length, perceiving that he was quite
exhausted, they drew him in without extorting from him a promise to
row.
This scene closed the intimate relations of Benjamin and Collins. They
scarcely spoke together civilly afterward. Collins sailed for
Barbadoes within a few weeks after, and he was never heard from again.
He probably died there, a miserable sot, and Benjamin lost all the
money he lent him. In later life, Benjamin Franklin referred to this
event, and spoke of himself as having received retribution for his
influence over Collins. For, when they were so intimate in Boston,
Benjamin corrupted his religious opinions by advocating doubts about
the reality of religion, until Collins became a thorough sceptic.
Until that time he was industrious, temperate, and honest. But having
lost his respect for religion, he was left without restraint, and went
rapidly to ruin. Benjamin was the greatest sufferer by his fall, and
thus was rebuked for influencing him to treat religion with contempt.
Benjamin immediately sought an interview with Governor Keith, and told
him the result of his visit home, and gave his father's reasons for
declining to assist him.
"But since he will not set you up," said the Governor, "I will do it
myself. Give me an inventory of the things necessary to be had from
England, and I will send for them. You shall repay me when you are
able; I am resolved to have a good printer here, and I am sure you
must succeed."
This was said with such apparent cordiality that Benjamin did not
doubt that he meant just what he affirmed, so he yielded to his
suggestion to make out an inventory of necessary articles. In the
meantime he went to work for Keimer.