_Ben resolves to return to America.--Anecdote of a rare character._
"A wit's a feather, and a chief's a rod,
An _honest_ man's the noblest work of God."
Ben used, with singular pleasure, to relate the following story of his
Quaker friend Denham. This excellent man had formerly been in business
as a Bristol merchant; but failing, he compounded with his creditors
and departed for America, where, by his extraordinary diligence and
frugality, he acquired in a few years a considerable fortune.
Returning to England, in the same ship with Ben, he invited all his
old creditors to a dinner. After thanking them for their former
kindness and assuring them that they should soon be paid, he begged
them to take their seats at table. On turning up their plates, every
man found his due, principal and interest, under his plate, in shining
gold.
This was the man after Ben's own heart. Though he never found in
Denham any of those flashes of wit, or floods of eloquence, which used
so to dazzle him in Ralph, yet he contracted such a friendship for
him, on account of his honesty and Quaker-like meekness, that he would
often steal an hour from his books at night, to go and chat with him.
And on the other hand, Ben's steady and persevering industry, with his
passion for knowledge, had so exalted him in Denham's esteem, that he
was never better pleased than when his _young friend Franklin_, as he
always called him, came to see him. One night Denham asked Ben how he
would like a trip to America?
"Nothing on earth would so please me," replied Ben, "if I could do it
to advantage."
"Well, friend Benjamin," said Denham, "I am just a-going to make up a
large assortment of goods for a store in Philadelphia, and if fifty
pounds sterling a year, and bed and board with myself, will satisfy
thee, I shall be happy of thy services to go and live with me as my
clerk."
The memory of his dear Philadelphia, and the many happy days he had
spent there, instantly sprung a something at his heart that reddened
his cheeks with joy. But the saddening thought of his total
unacquaintedness with commerce, soon turned them pale again. "I
should be happy indeed to accompany you," replied he, with a deep
sigh, "if I were but qualified to do you justice."
"O! as to that, friend Benjamin, don't be uneasy," replied Denham: "If
thou art not qualified _now_, thou soon wilt be. And then as soon as
thou art fit; I'll send thee with a cargo of corn and flour to the
West Indies, and put thee in a way wherein, with such talents and
industry as thine, thee may soon make a fortune."
Ben was highly delighted with this proposal, for though fifty pounds a
year was not so much as he could earn at printing, yet the prospects
in other respects were so much greater. Added to this, he was getting
heartily tired of printing. He had tried it five years at Boston,
three at Philadelphia, and now nearly two in London. At all these
places he had worked without ceasing; had lived most sparingly; had
left no stone unturned; and after all was now, in his twenty-first
year, just as indigent as when he began! "Scurvy, starving business!"
thought he to himself, "'tis high time to quit you! and God be thanked
for this fair opportunity to do it; and now we will shake hands and
part for ever." Taking leave now of the printing business, and as he
believed and wished, _for ever_, he gave himself up entirely to his
new occupation, constantly going from house to house with Denham,
purchasing goods and packing them. When every thing was safe on board,
he took a little leisure to visit his friends, and amuse himself. This
was a rule which he observed through life--to do business first, and
then enjoy pleasure without a sting.