GOING TO ENGLAND.
At the earliest opportunity, Benjamin presented the Governor with an
inventory of the articles necessary in setting up the printing
business.
"And what will be the probable expense of all these?" inquired the
Governor.
"About one hundred pounds sterling, as nearly as I can estimate," he
replied.
"But would it not prove an advantage for you to be there yourself, to
select the types, and see that everything is good?"
"I suppose it would, though such a thing as going to England is
scarcely possible with me."
"That remains to be seen," continued Governor Keith. "Another
advantage of your being there is, that you could form acquaintances,
and establish correspondence in the bookselling and stationery line."
"That would certainly be an advantage," replied Benjamin.
"Then get yourself ready to go in the Annis," said the Governor. The
Annis was the annual ship that sailed between Philadelphia and
London, and the only one, at that time, which performed this voyage.
Instead of there being scores of vessels sailing between these two
ports, as now, there was only this solitary one, going and returning
once a year.
"It is not necessary to prepare immediately," answered Benjamin,
"since it is several months before the Annis will sail."
"True; I only meant that you should be in readiness when the ship
sails. It will be necessary for you still to keep the matter secret
while you continue to work for Keimer."
Keimer, for whom Benjamin worked, was a singular man in some respects,
and liked to draw him into discussions upon religious subjects. At one
time he thought seriously of originating a new sect, and proposed to
Benjamin to join him, as his masterly powers of argumentation would
confound opponents. He wore his beard long, because it is somewhere
said in the Mosaic Law, "_Thou shalt not mar the corners of thy
beard._" Also, he kept the seventh, instead of the first day of the
week, as a Sabbath. Benjamin opposed him on these points, and their
discussions were frequent and warm. Keimer often exhorted him to
embrace his own peculiar views on these subjects. Finally, Benjamin
replied, "I will do it, provided you will join me in not eating animal
food, and I will adhere to them as long as you will stick to a
vegetable diet."
Benjamin was here aiming at some diversion, since Keimer was a great
eater, and thought much of a savoury dish. Benjamin wanted to starve
him a little, as he thought some of his preaching and practice did not
correspond.
"I should die," said Keimer, "if I adopt such a diet; my constitution
will not bear it."
"Nonsense!" answered Benjamin. "You will be better than you are now.
So much animal food is bad for any one."
"What is there left to eat when meat is taken away?" inquired Keimer.
"Little or nothing, I should think."
"I will pledge myself to furnish recipes for forty palatable dishes,"
answered Benjamin, "and not one of them shall smell of the flesh-pots
of Egypt."
"Who will prepare them? I am sure no woman in this town can do it."
"Each dish is so simple that any woman can easily prepare it," added
Benjamin.
Keimer finally accepted the proposition. He was to become a
vegetarian, and Benjamin was to embrace formally the long-beard
doctrine, and observe the seventh day for a Sabbath. A woman was
engaged to prepare their food and bring it to them, and Benjamin
furnished her with a list of forty dishes, "in which there entered
neither fish, flesh, nor fowl." For about three months Keimer adhered
to this way of living, though it was very trying to him all the
while. Benjamin was often diverted to see his manifest longings for
fowl and flesh, and expected that he would soon let him off from
keeping the seventh day and advocating long beards. At the end of
three months, Keimer declared that he could hold out no longer, and
the agreement was broken. It was a happy day for him; and to show his
gladness, he ordered a roast pig, and invited Benjamin and two ladies
to dine with him. But the pig being set upon the table before his
guests arrived, the temptation was so great that he could not resist,
and he devoured the whole of it before they came, thus proving that he
was a greater pig than the one he swallowed.
It should be remarked here, that for some time Benjamin had not
followed the vegetable diet which he adopted in Boston. The
circumstances and reason of his leaving are thus given by himself:--
"In my first voyage from Boston to Philadelphia, being becalmed
off Block Island, our crew employed themselves in catching cod,
and hauled up a great number. Till then, I had stuck to my
resolution to eat nothing that had had life; and on this occasion
I considered, according to my master Tryon, the taking every fish
as a kind of unprovoked murder, since none of them had nor could
do us any injury that might justify this massacre. All this
seemed very reasonable. But I had been formerly a great lover of
fish, and when it came out of the frying-pan, it smelt admirably
well. I balanced some time between principle and inclination,
till recollecting that, when the fish were opened, I saw smaller
fish taken out of their stomachs; then, thought I, 'If you eat
one another, I don't see why we may not eat you.' So I dined upon
cod very heartily, and have since continued to eat as other
people; returning only now and then to a vegetable diet. So
convenient a thing it is to be a _reasonable creature_, since it
enables one to find or make a _reason_ for everything one has a
mind to do."
The time was now approaching for the Annis to sail, and Benjamin began
to realize the trial of leaving his friends. A new tie now bound him
to Philadelphia. A mutual affection existed between Miss Read and
himself, and it had ripened into sincere and ardent love. He desired a
formal engagement with her before his departure, but her mother
interposed.
"Both of you are too young," said she,--"only eighteen! You cannot
tell what changes may occur before you are old enough to be married."
"But that need not have anything to do with an engagement," said
Benjamin. "We only pledge ourselves to marry each other at some future
time."
"And why do you deem such a pledge necessary?" asked the good mother.
"Simply because 'a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush,'"
replied Benjamin, with his face all wreathed with smiles.
"But I have not quite satisfied myself that it is best to give up my
daughter to a printer," added Mrs. Read.
"How so?" asked Benjamin, with some anxiety.
"Because," she replied, "there are already several printing-offices in
the country, and I doubt whether another can be supported."
"If I cannot support her by the printing business," answered Benjamin,
"then I will do it some other way."
"I have no doubt of your good intentions; but you may not realize the
fulfilment of all your hopes. I think you had better leave the matter
as it is until you return from England, and see how you are
prospered."
The old lady won the day, and the young couple agreed to proceed no
further at present.
The above reference to the fact that only four or five
printing-offices existed in America at that time, may serve to exhibit
its rapid growth. For in 1840, there were _one thousand five hundred
and fifty-seven_ of them, and now probably there are twice that
number.
"I am going to England with you, Benjamin," said Ralph one day, as
they met. "Don't you believe it?"
"It is almost too good news to believe," replied Benjamin. "But I
should be glad of your company, I assure you."
"It is true," continued Ralph. "I was not jesting when I told you, the
other day, that I meant to go if I could."
"Then you are really in earnest? You mean to go?"
"To be sure I do. I have fully decided to go."
Benjamin did not ask him what he was going for; but, from some remarks
he heard him make previously, he inferred that he was going out to
establish a correspondence, and obtain goods to sell on commission.
Nor did he learn to the contrary until after they arrived in London,
when Ralph informed him that he did not intend to return,--that he had
experienced some trouble with his wife's relations, and he was going
away to escape from it, leaving his wife and child to be cared for by
her friends.
As the time of their departure drew near, Benjamin called upon the
Governor for letters of introduction and credit, which he had
promised, but they were not ready. He called again, and they were
still unwritten. At last, just as he was leaving, he called at his
door, and his secretary, Dr. Baird, came out, and said: "The Governor
is engaged upon important business now, but he will be at Newcastle
before the Annis reaches there, and will deliver the letters to you
there."
As soon as they reached Newcastle, Benjamin went to the Governor's
lodgings for the letters, but was told by his secretary that he was
engaged, and should be under the necessity of sending the letters to
him on board the ship, before she weighed anchor. Benjamin was
somewhat puzzled by this unexpected turn of affairs, but still he did
not dream of deception or dishonesty. He returned to the vessel, and
awaited her departure. Soon after her canvas was flung to the breeze,
he went to the captain and inquired for the letters.
"I understand," said he, "that Colonel French brought letters on board
from the Governor. I suppose some of them are directed to my care."
"Yes," replied the captain, "Colonel French brought a parcel of
letters on board, and they were all put into the bag with others, so
that I cannot tell whether any of them are for you or not. But you
shall have an opportunity, before we reach England, of looking them
over for yourself."
"I thank you," answered Benjamin; "that will be all that is
necessary;" and he yielded himself up to enjoyment for the remainder
of the voyage, without the least suspicion of disappointment and
trouble.
When they entered the English Channel, the captain, true to his
promise, allowed Benjamin to examine the bag of letters. He found
several on which his name was written, as under his care, and some
others he judged, from the handwriting, came from the Governor. One of
them was addressed to Baskett, the King's printer, and another to a
stationer, and these two, Benjamin was confident, were for him to
take. In all he took seven or eight from the bag.
They arrived in London on the 24th of December, 1724, when Benjamin
lacked about a month of being nineteen years old. Soon after he
landed, he called upon the stationer to whom one of the letters was
directed: "A letter, sir, from Governor Keith, of Pennsylvania,
America!"
"I don't know such a person," replied the stationer, at the same time
receiving the letter.
"O, this is from Riddlesden!" said he, on opening it. "I have lately
found him to be a complete rascal, and I will have nothing to do with
him, nor receive any letters from him;" and he handed back the letter
to Benjamin, turned upon his heel, and left to wait upon a customer.
Benjamin was astonished and mortified. He had not the least suspicion
that he was bearing any other than the Governor's letter, and he was
almost bewildered for a moment. The thought flashed into his mind that
the Governor had deceived him. In a few moments his thoughts brought
together the acts of the Governor in the matter, and now he could see
clearly evidence of insincerity and duplicity. He immediately sought
out Mr. Denham, a merchant, who came over in the Annis with him, and
gave him a history of the affair.
"Governor Keith is a notorious deceiver," said Mr. Denham. "I do not
think he wrote a single letter for you, nor intended to do it. He has
been deceiving you from beginning to end."
"He pretended to have many acquaintances here," added Benjamin, "to
whom he promised to give me letters of credit, and I supposed that
they would render me valuable assistance."
"Letters of credit!" exclaimed Denham. "It is a ludicrous idea. How
could he write letters of credit, when he has no credit of his own to
give? No one who knows him has the least confidence in his character.
There is no dependence to be placed upon him in anything. He is
entirely irresponsible."
"What, then, shall I do?" asked Benjamin with evident concern. "Here I
am among strangers without the means of returning, and what shall I
do?"
"I advise you to get employment in a printing-office here for the
present. Among the printers here you will improve yourself, and, when
you return to America, you will set up to greater advantage."
There was no alternative left for Benjamin but to find work where he
could, and make the best of it. Again he had "paid too dear for the
whistle," and must suffer for it. He took lodgings with Ralph in
Little Britain, at three shillings and sixpence a week, and very soon
obtained work at Palmer's famous printing-house in Bartholomew Close,
where he laboured nearly a year. Ralph was not so successful in
getting a situation. He made application here and there, but in vain;
and, after several weeks of fruitless attempts at securing a place, he
decided to leave London, and teach a country school. Previously,
however, in company with Benjamin, he spent much time at plays and
public amusements. This was rather strange, since neither of them had
been wont to waste their time and money in this way; and years after,
Benjamin spoke of it as a great error of his life, which he deeply
regretted. But Ralph's departure put an end to this objectionable
pleasure-seeking, and Benjamin returned to his studious habits when
out of the office.
At this time, the ability to compose which he had carefully nurtured
proved of great assistance to him. He was employed in the printing of
Wollaston's "Religion of Nature," when he took exceptions to some of
his reasoning, and wrote a dissertation thereon, and printed it, with
the title, "A DISSERTATION ON LIBERTY AND NECESSITY, PLEASURE AND
PAIN." This pamphlet fell into the hands of one Lyons, a surgeon,
author of a book entitled "The Infallibility of Human Judgment," and
he was so much pleased with it, that he sought out the author, and
showed him marked attention. He introduced him to Dr. Mandeville,
author of the "Fable of the Bees," and to Dr. Pemberton, who promised
to take him to see Sir Isaac Newton. Sir Hans Sloane invited him to
his house in Bloomsbury Square, and showed him all his curiosities. In
this way, the small pamphlet which he wrote introduced him to
distinguished men, which was of much advantage to him.
While he lodged in Little Britain, he made the acquaintance of a
bookseller, by the name of Wilcox, who had a very large collection of
secondhand books. Benjamin wanted to gain access to them, but he could
not command the means to purchase; so he hit upon this plan: he
proposed to Wilcox to pay him a certain sum per book for as many as he
might choose to take out, read, and return, and Wilcox accepted his
offer. In this transaction was involved the principle of the modern
circulating library. It was the first instance of lending books on
record, and for that reason becomes an interesting fact. It was
another of the influences that served to send him forward in a career
of honour and fame.
When he first entered the printing-house in London, he did press-work.
There were fifty workmen in the establishment, and all of them but
Benjamin were great beer-drinkers; yet he could lift more, and endure
more fatigue, than any of them. His companion at the press was a
notorious drinker, and consumed daily "a pint of beer before
breakfast, a pint at breakfast with his food, a pint between breakfast
and dinner, a pint at dinner, a pint in the afternoon about six
o'clock, and another when he had done his day's work,"--in all six
pints per day. They had an alehouse boy always in attendance upon the
workmen.
"A detestable habit," said Benjamin to his fellow-pressman, "and a
very expensive one, too."
"I couldn't endure the wear and tear of this hard work without it,"
replied the toper.
"You could accomplish more work, and perform it better, by drinking
nothing but cold water," rejoined Benjamin. "There is nothing like it
to make one strong and healthy."
"Fudge! It may do for a Water-American like you, but Englishmen would
become as weak as babes without it."
"That is false," said Benjamin. "With all your drinking _strong_ beer
in this establishment, you are the weakest set of workmen I ever saw.
I have seen _you_ tug away to carry a single form of type up and down
stairs, when I always carry two. Your beer may be _strong_, but it
makes you _weak_."
"You Americans are odd fellows, I confess," added the beer-swigger;
"and you stick to your opinions like a tick."
"But look here, my good fellow," continued Benjamin. "Do you not see
that the bodily strength afforded by beer can be only in proportion to
the grain or flour of the barley dissolved in the water of which it is
made? There must be more flour in a pennyworth of bread than there is
in a whole quart of beer; therefore, if you eat that with a pint of
water, it will give you more strength than two or three pints of beer.
Is it not so?"
The man was obliged to acknowledge that it appeared to be so.
Benjamin continued: "You see that I am supplied with a large porringer
of hot water-gruel, sprinkled with pepper, crumbled with bread, and a
bit of butter in it, for just the price of a pint of beer,
three-halfpence. Now, honestly, is not this much better for me, and
for you, than the same amount of beer?"
Thus Benjamin thorned his companions with arguments against the
prevailing habit of beer-drinking. Gradually he acquired an influence
over many of them, by precept and example, and finally they abandoned
their old habit, and followed his better way of living. He wrought a
thorough reformation in the printing-office; and the fact shows what
one young man can do in a good cause, if he will but set his face
resolutely in that direction. Benjamin possessed the firmness,
independence, and moral courage to carry out his principles,--just
the thing which many a youth of his age lack, and consequently make
shipwreck of their hopes.
The only amusement which Benjamin seems to have enjoyed as much as he
did literary recreation, was swimming. From his boyhood he delighted
to be in the water, performing wonderful feats, and trying his skill
in various ways. At one time he let up his kite, and, taking the
string in his hand, lay upon his back on the top of the water, when
the kite drew him a mile in a very agreeable manner. At another time
he lay floating upon his back and slept for an hour by the watch. The
skill which he had thus acquired in the art of swimming won him a
reputation in England. On several occasions he exhibited his
remarkable attainments of this kind, and the result was that he was
applied to by Sir William Wyndham to teach his two sons to swim. Some
advised him to open a swimming-school, and make it his profession; but
he very wisely concluded to leave the water to the fish, and confine
himself to the land.
Benjamin had been in London nearly eighteen months, when Mr. Denham,
the merchant of whom we have spoken, proposed to him to return to
Philadelphia, and act in the capacity of bookkeeper for him, and
offered him fifty pounds a year, with the promise to promote him, and
finally establish him in business. Benjamin had a high respect for
Mr. Denham, and the new field of labour appeared to him inviting, so
that he accepted the proposition with little hesitation, and made
preparations to leave England, quitting for ever, as he thought, the
art of printing, which he had thoroughly learned.
Forty years after Benjamin worked in Palmer's printing-office, he
visited England in the service of his country, widely known as a
sagacious statesman and profound philosopher. He took occasion to
visit the old office where he once laboured with the beer-drinkers,
and, stepping up to the press on which he worked month after month, he
said: "Come, my friends, we will drink together. It is now forty years
since I worked, like you, at this press, as a journeyman printer."
With these words, he sent out for a gallon of porter, and they drank
together according to the custom of the times. That press, on which he
worked in London, is now in the Patent-office at Washington.