FAREWELL TO ENGLAND.
On the 23rd day of July, 1726, Benjamin sailed for Philadelphia, in
company with Mr. Denham. After a successful and rather pleasant voyage
of nearly three months, they reached Philadelphia, much to the
satisfaction of Benjamin, who always enjoyed his stay there. He was
now twenty years of age.
"Ah! is it you, Benjamin? I am glad to see you back again," said
Keimer, as his old journeyman made his appearance; and he shook his
hand as if his heart was in it. "I began to think you had forsaken
us."
"Not yet," replied Benjamin. "I think too much of Philadelphia to
forsake it yet."
"Want work at your old business, I suppose?" added Keimer. "I have a
plenty of it. You see I have improved things since you were here; my
shop is well supplied with stationery, plenty of new types, and a good
business!"
"I see that you have made considerable advance," replied Benjamin. "I
am glad that you prosper."
"And I shall be glad to employ you, as none of my men are complete
masters of the business."
"But I have relinquished my old trade," answered Benjamin. "I----"
"Given up the printing business!" interrupted Keimer. "Why is that?"
"I have made arrangements with Mr. Denham to keep his books, and serve
him generally in the capacity of clerk."
"I am sorry for that, and I think you will be eventually. It is a very
uncertain business."
"Well, I have undertaken it for better or worse," said Benjamin, as he
rose to leave the shop.
As he was going down the street, who should he meet but Governor
Keith, who had been removed from his office, and was now only a common
citizen. The ex-Governor appeared both surprised and ashamed at seeing
him, and passed by him without speaking.
Benjamin was quite ashamed to meet Miss Read, since he had not been
true to his promise. Though he had been absent eighteen months, he had
written her but a single letter, and that was penned soon after his
arrival in London, to inform her that he should not return at present.
His long absence and silence convinced her that he had ceased to
regard her with affection; in consequence of which, at the earnest
persuasion of her parents, she married a potter by the name of
Rogers. He turned out to be a miserable fellow, and she lived with him
only a short time. He incurred heavy debts; ran away to the West
Indies to escape from his creditors, and there died.
Miss Read (she refused to bear the name of Rogers) was disconsolate
and sad, and Benjamin pitied her sincerely, inasmuch as he considered
himself to blame in the matter. He was not disposed to shield himself
from the censure of the family, had they been disposed to administer
any; but the old lady took all the blame upon herself, because she
prevented an engagement, and persuaded her daughter to marry Rogers.
These circumstances rendered his meeting with Miss Read less
unpleasant, so far as his own want of fidelity was concerned. His
intimacy with the family was renewed, and they frequently invited him
there to tea, and often sought his advice on business of importance.
Mr. Denham opened a store in Water Street, and Benjamin entered upon
his new business with high hopes. He made rapid progress in acquiring
knowledge of traffic, and soon became expert in keeping accounts and
selling goods. But in February, 1727, when Benjamin was twenty-one
years of age, both he and his employer were prostrated by sickness.
Benjamin's disease was pleurisy, and his life was despaired of, though
he unexpectedly recovered. Mr. Denham lingered along for some time,
and died. His decease was the occasion of closing the store and
throwing Benjamin out of business. It was a sad disappointment, but
not wholly unlike the previous checkered experience of his life. He
had become used to "ups and downs."
As a token of his confidence and esteem, Mr. Denham left a small
legacy to Benjamin,--a fact that speaks well for the young man's
faithfulness. And here it should be said, that, whatever faults the
hero of our story had, he always served his employers with such
ability and fidelity as won their approbation and confidence. Unlike
many youth, who care not for their employers' interests if they but
receive their wages and keep their places, he ever did the best he
could for those who employed him. He proved himself trustworthy and
efficient; and here is found one secret of his success.
In his disappointment, Benjamin sought the advice of his
brother-in-law, Captain Homes, who happened to be in Philadelphia at
the time.
"I advise you to return to your old business," said he. "I suppose you
can readily get work here, can you not?"
"All I want," Benjamin answered. "Keimer was very anxious to employ me
when I returned from England, and I dare say that he would hire me
now."
"Then I would close a bargain with him at once, were I in your place.
I think you will succeed better at your trade than in any other
business, and perhaps the way will soon be prepared for you to open a
printing-office of your own."
This advice was followed without delay, and Keimer was eager to employ
him. At the outset, he offered him extra wages to take the entire
management of his printing-office, so that he (Keimer) might attend
more closely to his stationer's shop. The offer was accepted, and
Benjamin commenced his duties immediately. He soon found, however,
that Keimer's design in offering him so large wages was, that the
hands he already employed might be improved under his experience, when
it would not be necessary for him to hire so competent a person. The
facts show us that good workmen can command employment and high wages,
when poor ones are obliged to beg their bread.
Among Keimer's workmen was an Oxford student, whose time he had bought
for four years. He was about eighteen years of age, smart and
intelligent. Benjamin very naturally became interested in him, as it
was quite unusual to find an Oxford scholar acting in the capacity of
a bought servant; and he received from him the following brief account
of his life. He "was born in Gloucester, educated at a grammar-school,
and had been distinguished among the scholars for some apparent
superiority in performing his part when they exhibited plays;
belonged to the Wits' Club there, and had written some pieces in prose
and verse, which were printed in the Gloucester newspapers. Thence was
sent to Oxford, where he continued about a year, but not well
satisfied; wishing, of all things, to see London, and become a player.
At length, receiving his quarterly allowance of fifteen guineas,
instead of discharging his debts, he went out of town, hid his gown in
a furze-bush, and walked to London; where, having no friend to advise
him, he fell into bad company, soon spent his guineas, found no means
of being introduced among the players, grew necessitous, pawned his
clothes, and wanted bread. Walking the street, very hungry, not
knowing what to do with himself, a crimp's bill was put into his hand,
offering immediate entertainment and encouragement to such as would
bind themselves to work in America. He went directly, signed the
indentures, was put into the ship, and came over; never writing a line
to his friends, to acquaint them what was become of him."
Such a case has several important lessons for the young. In the first
place, it shows the danger that attends theatrical performances. Youth
often wonder that good people object to them; but here they may see
one reason of their opposition. It was at the school in Oxford that he
imbibed a love for the stage. There he participated in dramatic
plays, which caused him to run away, and seek a residence in London,
where he was ruined. There are hundreds of similar examples, and these
cause good people to condemn theatrical amusements. It is said that
when Lord Jeffrey was a youth, at the college in Glasgow, he was
instrumental in originating a dramatic performance. The play was
selected, and a room of the college designated as a fitting theatre,
when the authorities interfered, and forbade them to perform the play.
Their interference aroused the ire of Jeffrey, who, in his "Notes on
Lectures," denounced their conduct as "the meanest, most illiberal,
and despicable." Many youth cherish similar feelings towards those who
condemn such performances; and, if one of the number shall read these
pages, we would point him to the sad end of the Oxford student.
This case also illustrates the sad consequences of keeping bad
company, as well as the perils of the city. He associated with the
vicious in London, and became really a vagabond in consequence.
As the workmen improved under Benjamin's supervision, Keimer evidently
began to think of discharging him, or cutting down his wages. On
paying his second quarter's wages, he told him that he could not
continue to pay him so much. He became less civil, frequently found
fault, and plainly tried to make Benjamin's stay uncomfortable so that
he would leave. At length a rare opportunity offered for him to make
trouble. An unusual noise in the street one day caused Benjamin to put
his head out of the window to see what was the matter. Keimer happened
to be in the street, and seeing him, he cried out, "Put your head in,
and attend to your business;" and added some reproachful words which
all in the street heard. Then, hastening up into the office, he
continued his insulting language.
"Men who work for me must give better heed to their business," said
he. "If they care more for a noise in the street than for their work,
it is time they left."
"I am ready to leave any time you please," retorted Benjamin, who was
considerably nettled by such treatment. "I am not dependent on you for
a living, and I shall not be treated in this way long, I assure you."
"That, indeed!" exclaimed Keimer. "You would not stay another hour if
it were not for our agreement, in accordance with which I now warn you
that, at the end of a quarter's time, I shall hire you no more."
"You need not regret that you cannot send me away to-day," answered
Benjamin. "I shall work no longer for a man who will treat me thus;"
and, taking his hat, he left. As he passed down, he requested
Meredith, one of the hands, to bring some things which he left behind
to his lodgings.
In the evening Meredith went to see Benjamin, carrying the articles
referred to.
"What shall you do now?" Meredith inquired.
"I shall return to Boston forthwith."
"I wouldn't do that. You can do much better here than you can there."
"What can I do here now?"
"Set up business for yourself."
"I have no money to do it with."
"My father has," said Meredith; "and I will go into company with you
if he will furnish the means. I am not acquainted with the business,
and you are; so I will furnish the capital, and you shall manage the
concern, and we will share the profits equally."
"Your father will never do it," suggested Benjamin.
"I am confident that he will," replied Meredith. "He has a high
opinion of you, and he wants a good opportunity to set me up. I will
ask him, at any rate."
"I would like such an enterprise myself," added Benjamin; "but can we
succeed against Keimer? He will now do all he can to crush me."
"He will be crushed himself before long," answered Meredith. "I happen
to know that he is in debt for all the property in his hands. He keeps
his shop miserably, too; often sells without profit in order to raise
money; and trusts people without keeping accounts. He will fail as
surely as he keeps on in this way."
"I will agree to your plan if you can make it work," said Benjamin.
"See your father immediately, and let me know the result."
Accordingly, Meredith saw his father, and he was ready to furnish the
necessary capital, because of his high regard for Benjamin.
"I am the more ready to do this," said he to Benjamin, afterwards,
"because of your good influence over my son. You have prevailed upon
him to leave off drinking to excess, and I hope he will be persuaded,
by your more intimate connection in business, to reform entirely."
It was settled that they should set up business as soon as they could
procure the necessary articles from England.