verily he ought to do many things contrary to the name of Jesus of Nazareth, which things he also did," arguing powerfully for natural religion.

How many converts he made to infidelity, I have never been able exactly to learn. But certain it is, he made two, viz. John Collins and James Ralph. As to Collins, we have seen already, that in converting him to scepticism, he soon drew down an old house over his head, his pupil quickly turning out a most impudent drunkard and swindler. And though he expected better luck from Ralph, yet he quickly discovered in him also certain very dismal symptoms of the

cloven foot.

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."

66

Ben, though greatly shocked by this trait in his character, was yet so blindly partial to Ralph that he could not find in his heart to spurn him from his acquaintance. But for this, as he afterwards called it, great error in his life, he received a chastisement, which, though pretty severe, was not one stripe more than he richly deserved

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

K

But brightly as shone the day, yet in this, as in all the past, he found a canker. If the season served his ambition, it crossed his love. The reader will please be reminded that the Debby, immortalized in the lines above, was the beautiful Miss Deborah Read, who had at first so heartily laughed at Ben for munching his roll along the street; but afterwards had fallen very much in love with him. And, on the other hand, living in her father's family, and daily a spectator of her prudence and sweetness of spirit, he had become equally partial to her; and had even asked her in marriage, before he set out for London. The old gentleman, her father, was quite keen for the match, it having always been his opinion, he said, that in choosing a husband for his daughter, it was better to get a man without money, than money without a man.

But old Mrs. Read flatly refused her consent; or, at any rate, until his return, when, as she said, it would be full time enough for "such young people to marry." The truth is, the printing trade, then in its infancy in Pennsylvania, was of such little account that the old lady had her fears that her daughter would starve if she married Ben.

Having taken leave of his fair sweetheart, with many a vow of love and swift return, Ben, accompanied by Ralph, hastened on board the ship, which fell down the river for Newcastle. Immediately on his arrival at this place, he went on shore to see his dear friend the governor, who was come down to despatch the packet. The governor could not be seen! This was a sad shock to Ben, and would have been much more so, but for the attentions of the governor's secretary, Dr. Bar, who, with the finest smile imaginable, presented the "GOVERNOR's compliments to his young friend Mr. Franklin—was extremely sorry indeed he could not see him, owing to a press of business, among which was that of writing some letters for his own special service, which should be sent on board to him-but though his EXCELLENCY could not enjoy the pleasure of seeing Mr. Franklin, yet he begged he would accept the assurances of his eternal friendship, with the best wishes for his prosperous voyage and speedy return; and above all, his earnest hopes that he would continue to improve his extraordinary talents."

Though this was to Ben somewhat like a sugar-plumb to a child after a dose of wormwood, yet could it not so entirely take off the bitter, but that he was at first prodigiously in a humour to break with the governor. His characteristic

prudence, however, came to his aid; and fortunately recollecting that it was not a common man, but a GOVERNOR, he was dealing with, and that such great men have their ways of doing things quite different from little people, he smothered his resentment, and went peaceably on board the ship—not even yet suspecting any fraud on the part of the governor. When we consider how dear to the young and virtuous bosom is the glow of gratitude to benefactors, we cannot but mourn that governor Keith should so cruelly have chilled those joys in the bosom of our young countryman. But, though chilled for a moment, they were not extinct. The heavy heart which he at first felt on being denied the pleasure of seeing the governor, is already much relieved by his gracious message through the secretary, and afterwards so completely cured by the sublime and beautiful scenes around Newcastle, that he went back to the ship in good spirits again. On the return of the last boat, bringing the mail, he modestly asked the captain for the letters which the governor had addressed to his care. To this the rough son of Neptune replied, "that they were all there, he supposed, higglety, pigglety, together in the letter bag, and that as the ship with a fine breeze was getting under weigh, he could not spare the time now to make a search for them, but that before they got to London he might overhaul the bag and take 'em out for himself."

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 wind lass, or creaking halyards, as void of thought as the timberheads 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.

Though Ben was no poet, nor ever affected to be "rei

gious overmuch," yet could he not behold such magnificent scenes without that adoring sense of eternal power and goodness which has been so elegantly expressed by the sweet voice of Zion:

"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."

CHAPTER XXV.

Ben getting into trouble-finds out his old friend governor Keith to be a black sheep and learns that a good trade and virtuous habits are the best wealth that a father can give his son.

"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 (or London river) 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.

Here were strong symptoms of treachery on the part of the governor. And in spite of all his credulity, Ben was brought to his doubtings. In this dilemma he went back to a worthy Quaker of the name of Denham, with whom he had contracted a great friendship on ship-board, and told him

the whole story from beginning to end. With all his professional gravity, Denham could not help smiling, as Ben related the history of his credulity: but when he came to tell of governor Keith's LETTERS of Credit, and the vast supplies of TYPES, and PAPER, and PRESSES, which they were instantly to procure him, he broke into a horse laugh. "He give thee letters of credit, friend Benjamin! Governor Keith give thee letters of credit! Why, man, he has not credit for himself, no not for a brass farthing, from any one who ever heard of him."

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 blackeyed 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 struc ture 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.

But a young man early trained in the school of wisdom is not long to be depressed. After relieving his bosom with a deep sigh; he turned to Denham and said, in a plaintive tone, "but was it not cruel in governor Keith to deceive

me so ?"

"Yes. Benjamin,” replied Denham, 'twas, to our view,