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dark times; all living here like Indians in the woods. young man, printing his books and pictures like you, would have been looked on as a conjurer. And now let me tell you one thing. Don't you be discouraged, but keep up a good heart. A little, making every day, makes a great deal in a long life. And I am mistaken if you don't make a fortune, and come out a great man yet some of these days."

CHAPTER XXXII.

HAVING finished printing the New-Jersey money, Ben,. accompanied by Keimer, set out for Philadelphia, where he had scarcely arrived before in came Meredith, with a face of joy, and taking Ben aside, told him that their press and types were all come. Immediately the two friends went forth in search of a good house and stand, which they were so lucky as to find near the market, at twenty-four pounds a year! The fixing and putting all their things to rights, having consumed every penny of their money, our young beginners were at their wit's end what to be at. In this extremity, one of their acquaintance, a Mr. George House, brought them a countryman who wanted some advertisements for a cow he had lost. Ben soon had the old cow up for him in a "staring" shape, which so pleased the honest rustic, that he instantly counted them down their five shillings. Never did five shillings come more acceptably. The gratitude which Ben felt towards George House for this little kindness, fixed on him a determination from that day, "never to miss an opportunity to lend a helping hand to young beginners."

His favourite young Hercules, the PRINTING-OFFICE, which had been so long labouring in his brain, being now happily brought to birth, Ben determined immediately to give it the countenance and support of another noble bantling of his own. I allude to his famous club, called the "Junto," a kind of Robinhood society, composed of young men desirous of improving themselves in knowledge and elocution, and who met one night every week, to discuss some interesting question in morals, politics, or philosophy.

The members at first were but few; but Ben, now a comlete master of his pen, made such a dash with their speeches

in his newspaper, that the Junto soon got to be the talk of the town; and members were added to it daily. Ben was unanimously appointed moderator of the club; and in reward for the great pleasure and profit derived from this noble, mind-improving institution, the members all agreed to support his printing-office. This was of service; but its principal support was derived from a still higher source; I mean his own astonishing industry. No sooner was it known in town that Ben had set up a new paper and press, under the very nose of two others, Keimer's and Bradford's, than it became a matter of speculation whether it could possibly stand. The generality gave into the negative. But Dr. Bard, a shrewd old Scotchman, who well knew the effect of persevering industry on young men's fortunes, laughed heartily at the doubters. "Stand," said he, "gentlemen! Yes, take my word it will stand. The industry of that young Franklin will make any thing stand. I see him still at work when I return from my patients at midnight, and he is at it again in the morning before his neighbours are out of bed." Ben was fairly entitled to his praise. He gene. rally composed and corrected ten to twelve thousand m's a day, though it constantly took him till near midnight. But so intent was he on finishing this incredible task, that when accident had deranged a good half of his hard day's work, he has been known to fall to work and set it up again before he went to bed.

The reputation acquired by this industry, made such an impression in his favour, that the merchants, many of them, made him liberal offers of their stationary on credit. But, not wishing to have "too many irons in the fire," he declined their offers, which added to his reputation of an industrious young man, that of an upright and cautious one. This is mentioned, not so much for praise of the dead, as for a hint to the living.

Business began now to make a flood-tide movement in the new printing-office, and Ben made such good use of it, and picked up money so fast, that he was in hopes he had nearly thrown all his troubles over the " left shoulder." But in this he was miserably mistaken; for presently, as if there was to be no end to troubles, there leaped out another, inore alarming than all before. Old Meredith, finding that Ben had not cured his son of his drunken fits, took a miff, and all at once backed out of his promise to pay for their press and printing materials! and the merchant who imported these costly articles, and who had for some time been expecting

his money, commenced a suit, and threatened immediate execution!

Poor Ben! Imagination sees him, at first, standing like a luckless merchant, who, after two noble ventures swallowed up, now beholds the breakers that are to swallow up his third, and last hope-"Yes," thought he, "but a few short weeks and my press and type will be under the hammer; all my delightful hopes annihilated; and myself turned adrift on the wide world again!”

At this perilous moment, when nothing but infamy and ruin stared him in the face, God was pleased to cause his OWN VIRTUES to leap forth like an armed Minerva, with shield and buckler for his defence. His INDUSTRY and PRUDENCE having, as aforesaid, been trumpeted through the town, the public feelings were greatly excited by his misfortunes. "Shame," said they, that such a young man should fall. As to that drunken fellow, that Meredith, no matter how soon he is stripped and sent to jail. But this Franklin must not fall for want of a little help. It were a disgrace to the town. Accordingly several gentlemen, two at least are recorded, Coleman and Grace, without each other's knowledge, called on him, and tendered whatever sum he should want!-but hoping at the same time he would, if possible, get quit of Meredith, who only served to disgrace and injure him; being often seen at taverns and gambling tables.

A relief so unexpected, and in a manner too so flattering, produced on the mind of Ben, a satisfaction beyond expression. After making the best acknowledgments he could to such noble benefactors, he begged they would allow him a day or two to effect, if possible, an honourable separation from Meredith. Fortunately he found no difficulty in this: for Meredith, heartily sick of the business, readily agreed, for a small consideration, to give him up the printing-office to himself. Ben then called on his two friends, accepted the proffered supply, taking exactly one half from each for fear of offending either, and making full settlement with the Merediths, took the whole business into his own hands.

But

Ben's extreme alarm from the danger of having his printing-office seized, and its fortunate rescue by the amiable Coleman and Grace, has been very briefly narrated. transient as this event may seem in our narrative, it produced on his feelings a glow of gratitude which kings might envy; and it led to an act which Angels would glory in. The reader shall hear all in good time.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

HAVING now got the printing-office in his own hands, Ben began to find the unspeakable advantage of his past labours to acquire ideas, and to convey them handsomely by his pen. The town and country getting at this time prodigiously excited about a PAPER CURRENCY, Ben came out with a most luminous pamphlet, on "THE ADVANTAGES and DISADVANTAGES of a PAPER CURRENCY. 99 The pamphlet gave such satisfaction to the legislature, that they rewarded him with the printing of all their money bills. His pamphlet producing the same effect on the legislature of Delaware, they rewarded him in the same way-as also did both these legislatures by throwing into his way several other jobs of public printing.

Money now coming in, he went at once, and paid his good friends Coleman and Grace what they had so nobly lent him. With a light heart he then wiped off that old score of VERNON'S, which had given him so much uneasiness, but which now receipted in full, principal and interest, made him feel himself the freest, and therefore the happiest man in Pennsylvania. Money still coming in, he fitted up a few shelves in the front room of his printing-office, where he spread out an assortment of Books, Blanks, Paper and Quills; but all in the small way-for he always thought, that though

"Vessels large may venture more,

Yet little boats should keep near shore."

Like a ship that after long tacking against winds and tides, through dangerous straits and shallows, has at last got safely out on the main ocean flood, and at liberty to lay her own course; such was now the condition of Ben; who hereupon felt it his duty immediately to take on board those two grand guides and guardians of his voyage-RELIGION and a GOOD

WIFE.

As to religion-the grum looks and bitter sectarian animosities of the christians in those wretched days, had early made a deist of him; and he, in turn, had made deists of others, as Collins and Ralph. But on coming to test the thing by its fruits, he found that this new religion (deism) was not yet the religion he could admire. He found that poor Collins, with all his deism, was but a drunkard-Ralph, an ungrateful swindler-governor Keith, a great rascal-and even

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nimself, though a prime deist, yet in his treatment of Miss Read, as culpable as any of them all. This led him to a train of thought which resulted in the conclusion, that though he could not conceive that bad actions are bad, merely because revelation forbids them; nor good actions good, because revelation enjoins them; yet he doubted not but the former were forbidden, because they are hurtful, and the latter enjoined because they are beneficial to us-all things considered. On this grand principle then, the inseparable connexion between VICE and MISERY, and VIRTUE and HAPPINESS, he determined from that day to shun the one, and embrace the other; thus summing up his religion in those beautiful lines:

"What CONSCIENCE dictates to be done,

Or warns me not to do;

This teach me more than HELL to shun,
That more than HEAVEN pursue."

So much for his religion. As to his wife, his behaviour ir this respect seems to have shown that there was some sub stance in the religious ground he had taken. Having, at the time of his sad disappointment in London, and when he despaired of ever marrying her, neglected his old sweetheart Miss Read, he resolved, now that he was getting into better circumstances, to make her all the amends in his power. "Tis true, her mother, who had prevented the marriage be fore he set off for England, and during his absence had prevailed on her to marry another lover, was most in fault, and actually acquitted him, laying the blame altogether at her own door. But Ben never acquitted himself; he felt condemned, and would therefore accept no absolution while he could make reparation. He renewed his visits to the family, who were rejoiced to see him. He saw his old sweetheart, Miss Read; but O how altered from her who, formerly bright with love and joy, used to fly to the door to welcome his coming! How altered from her, whose rosy cheeks crimsoned with blushes, he so fondly kissed at taking leave for England, with sweetest promises of speedy return and blissful marriage. Pale and wan were her looks, where she sat silent and retired, and often deeply sighing, like one much troubled in mind, or crossed in hopeless love. She never reminded him of his troth and broken vows.' But such patient suffering served but the more to harrow up his feelings. Each stifled sigh sounded in his ear as a deathbell; and each tender glance carried a point keener than the