Read Ebook: The Life of Benjamin Franklin With Many Choice Anecdotes and admirable sayings of this great man never before published by any of his biographers by Weems M L Mason Locke

Font size: 10 px 15 px 20 px 25 px 30 px 35 px

Background color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Text color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Apply/Save settings

Ebook has 389 lines and 66259 words, and 8 pages

Ben could not bear that sight. Such shameless neglect of angel morality, and yet such fidgetting about a goatish beard! "Heavens, sir," said he to Keimer, one day in the midst of a hot argument,

"Who can think, with common sense, A smooth shaved face gives God offence? Or that a whisker hath a charm, Eternal justice to disarm?"

Keimer wanted to know what that was.

"Why sir," added Ben, "this turning out and preaching up a NEW RELIGION, is, without doubt, a very serious affair, and ought not to be undertaken too hastily. Much time, sir, in my opinion at least, should be spent in making preparation, in which, fasting should certainly have a large share."

Keimer shook his head, and said that if he were to live on vegetables and water, he should soon die.

Ben assured him that it was entirely a mistake. He had tried it often, he said, and could testify from his own experience that he was never more healthy and cheerful than when he lived on vegetables alone. "Die from feeding on vegetables, indeed! Why, sir, it contradicts reason; and contradicts all history, ancient and profane. There was Daniel, and his three young friends, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, who fed on a vegetable diet, of choice; did they languish and die of it? or rather did they not display a rouge of health and fire of genius, far beyond those silly youths who crammed on all the luxuries of the royal table? And that amiable Italian nobleman, Lewis Cornaro, who says of bread, that it was such a dainty to his palate, that he was almost afraid, at times, it was too good for him to eat; did he languish and die of this simple fare? On the contrary, did he not out-live three generations of gratified epicures; and after all, go off in his second century, like a bird of Paradise, singing the praises of Temperance and Virtue? And pray, sir," continued Ben, "where's the wonder of all this? Must not the blood that is formed of vegetables be the purest in nature? And then, as the spirits depend on the blood, must not the spirits secreted from such blood be the purest too? And when this is the case with the blood and spirits, which are the very life of the man, must not that man enjoy the best chance for such healthy secretions and circulations as are most conducive to long and happy life?"

Ben, still unwilling to give up his point, thought he would make one more push at him. "What a pity it is," said he with a sigh, "that the blessings of so sublime a religion should be all lost to the world, merely for lack of a little fortitude on the part of its propagators."

"What have you got there?" said he, with a visage grum, and scowling eye.

"A dish of hasty pudding," replied Ben, with the smile of an innocent youth who had a keen appetite, with something good to satisfy it--"a dish of nice hasty pudding, sir, made of oats."

"Of OATS!" retorted Keimer, with a voice raised to a scream.

Keimer growled out, that he was no horse to eat oats.

"No matter for that," replied Ben, "'tis equally good for men."

Keimer denied that any human being ever eat oats.

"Aye!" said Ben, "and pray what's become of the Scotch? Don't they live on oats; and yet, where will you find a people so 'bonny, blythe, and gay;' a nation of such wits and warriors."

As there was no answering this, Keimer sat down to the terrene, and swallowed a few spoonfuls, but not without making as many wry faces as if it had been so much jalap; while Ben, all smile and chat, breakfasted most deliciously.

At dinner, by Ben's order, the old woman paraded a trencher piled up with potatoes. Keimer's grumbling fit came on him again. "He saw clear enough," he said, "that he was to be poisoned."

"Poh, cheer up, man," replied Ben; "this is your right preacher's bread."

"Who see the right, and approve it too; Condemn the wrong--and yet the wrong pursue."

According to his own account, it appears that Ben was often haunted with fears that he himself had some hand in Ralph's disasters. Dr. Franklin was certainly one of the wisest of mankind. But with all his wisdom he was still but a man, and therefore liable to err. Solomon, we know, was fallible; what wonder then young Franklin?

"For believing that there are three persons in the Godhead; or only one person.

"For believing that there are children in hell not a span long; or for not believing it.

"For believing that every body will be saved; or for believing that scarcely any body will be saved.

"For baptizing in mill ponds; or only out of china bowls.

"For taking the sacrament in both elements; or only in the bread.

"For praying in Latin; or for praying only in English.

"For praying with a book; or for praying without a book.

"For praying standing; or for praying kneeling.

"For reading the Bible by themselves; or for reading it only with a priest.

"For wearing long beards; or for shaving their beards.

"For preaching up predestination; or for preaching up free will.

Such was the prince of infidels. And it was the very argument to stagger Ben, even the dangerous argument of example, which young as he was, he had learned to consider as a short way of coming at men's real principles.

"Example is a living law, whose sway Men more than all the living laws obey."

Or as Hudibras has it,

Some short time before the sailing of the Annis, Ben, in the warmth of his heart, told Ralph of the immense affair which Sir William Keith had engaged him in, viz. to make him the KING'S PRINTER in Philadelphia. And also that he was about to sail in a few days on that very errand for London. Ralph suddenly turned serious; the next day he came and told Ben that he had made up his mind to go with him. "How can that be," said Ben, "seeing you have a young wife and child?" To this Ralph replied, with an oath, that "that should be no obstacle." "It was true," he said, "he had married the wench, but it was only for her money. But since the old rascal, her father, would not give it to him, he was determined to be revenged on him, by leaving his daughter and grandchild on his hands for life."

The day at length arrives, the long wished day for the sailing of the Annis; and Ben gladly hails it as the fairest he had ever seen.

All in the stream the ship she lies, Her topsails loosen'd from above, When Ben to DEBBY fondly flies To bid farewell to his TRUE LOVE.

Ben was perfectly satisfied with this answer. And charmed at thought of the great things awaiting him in London, he threw off his coat and bravely joined the crew in all their haste and bustle to weigh the anchor, and spread the sails before the freshening gale.

But while the sailors, many of them at least, poor fellows, for lack of education, were straining at the clanking windlass, or creaking halyards, as void of thought as the timber-heads of the ship, the spirits of Ben were in a constant succession of pleasurable reflections on the magnificent scenes around him--the grand floating castle which bore him so high above the foaming billows--the rapid flight of the ship, as flying before the stormy winds she left the lessening shores behind her--the boundless fields of the blue rolling ocean, with all her porpoises gathering round in blackening shoals, bounding and blowing, as if to greet the monster vessel, and by their furious romps, adding to the crash and foam of the tempest.

"Shout to the Lord, ye surging seas, In your eternal roar; Let wave to wave resound his praise, And shore reply to shore.

"While monsters sporting on the flood In scaly silver shine, Speak terribly their Maker--God, And lash the foaming brine."

"Who dares think one thing and another tell, My soul abhors him like the gates of hell."

On the arrival of the ship in the Thames the captain, like an honest fellow of his word, ordered the letter-bag on deck, and told Ben he was welcome now to overhaul it and pick out the governor's letters to him. After eagerly turning them all over and over again, not a single letter could he find that had his name on it, either directed to himself, or to his care. He picked out however a few that seemed to have some little squinting that way, one especially, that was directed to a PRINTER, and another to a BOOKSELLER. These he immediately carried to their respective owners. But in place of those smiles and prompt offers of money and merchandize, which his illustrious patron, governor Keith, had promised him, scarcely were his letters opened before they were nearly thrown back into his face, as coming from a couple of scoundrel debtors, who, instead of paying off their old scores, were now impudently asking for new credits.

Poor Ben was struck "all in a heap"--dumb as a codfish. He stood for all the world like a shipwrecked sailor boy, who, after dreaming of gold and diamond coasts, and black-eyed Polls, and whole seas of grog, and mountains of segars, wakes up all at once, and finds himself, like poor Robinson Crusoe, on a desolate island, with not even a scape-goat of hope before him. In silence he rolled his eyes in woeful cogitation--for three months he had been feasting on the smiles and promises of his illustrious friend, governor Keith--for three months had been anticipating his grand Printing Establishment, in Philadelphia, and his complete triumph over old Keimer and Bradford--for three months he had been drinking in streams of rapture from the love-beaming eyes of the beauteous Miss Read, shortly as his wife to rustle in silks and roll in her carriage--but dearer still than all, for three months he had been looking forward to the time, close at hand, when his infirm parents should come to enjoy with him, in Philadelphia, the welcome repose of their age, in an elegant retreat, purchased for them, by his own virtues. But lo! in a moment the whole goodly structure is dissipated in smoke, leaving him pennyless and friendless, in a strange country, three thousand miles from home, and at a long, long distance from all these dear objects!

Denham saw in Ben's looks what was passing in his heart; but knowing that it is good for virtuous and heroic minds to bear the cross in their youth, he suffered him to go on, undisturbed, with his dismal cogitations.

"Yes, Benjamin," replied Denham, "'twas, to our view, very cruel in the governor of Pennsylvania thus to deceive an inexperienced lad as thou art."

"Advise thee, Benjamin," replied Denham, in a cheerful tone, "why, I would advise thee not to give thyself one moment's uneasiness about this affair. Thee remembers the story of Joseph, does thee not? how he was betrayed by his brethren into Egypt, not only a poor lad like thee, but indeed a slave too? And yet this event, though at the time highly disheartening, proved to him in the end, one of the happiest incidents of his life. So, by good management, Benjamin, this may prove to thee. Thou art young, very young yet, with a plenty of time before thee; and this is a great city for thy business. Now if thou wilt but seek employment with some printer of distinction, thou mayest make thyself more completely master of thy trade, and also gain friends, that may enable thee to settle so much more advantageously in Philadelphia, as to make it good for thee that governor Keith ever betrayed thee here. And this will be a triumph much to thine own honour, as also to the benefit of other youth, who shall ever hear of thy story."

As when a sweet breeze of the ocean suddenly strikes a becalmed ship, that with flapping sails lay tossing on the sluggish flood, instantly the joy-wakened billows roll a brighter foam, and the hearts of the sailors spring forward with transport to their native shores. Thus exhilarating to Ben's soul was the counsel of his friend Denham. Without a moment's loss of time he went, as his friend Denham had advised, and sought business at the offices of two of the most eminent book-printers in London, Palmer and Watts. With the latter he spent most of his time during his stay in England.

"And so you are a buckskin, sir," said he, rather cavalierly.

"Yes sir," replied Ben, "I am a buckskin."

"Well sir, I am afraid you'll not make your fortune by that here in London," said Palmer.

"No sir," answered Ben, "I find it is thought a misfortune here, to have been born in America. But I hope it was the will of heaven, and therefore must be right."

Share on: WhatsApp @Hash Facebook Tweet