done, he shook his head and said. "it was to be sure a sensible letter, a vastly sensible etter; but-but,—it won't do," continued he to Ben, "no, it won't do; your father is too cautious, entirely too cautious, sir." Hereupon he fell into a brown study, with his eyes nailed to the ground as in a profound reverie. After a moment's pause, he suddenly looked up, and with a countenance bright as with some happy thought, he cried out, "I've got it, my dear young friend, I've got it exactly. Zounds! what signifies making two bites at a cherry? in for a penny, in for a pound, is my way. Since your father will do nothing for you, I'll do it all myself. A printer I want, and a printer I'll have, that's a clear case. And I am sure you are the lad that will suit me to a fraction. So give me a list of the articles you want from England, and I'll send for them by the very next ship, and set you up at once. And all I shall expect of you, is that you'll pay me when you are able!!" Seeing the tear swelling into Ben's eye, the gov ernour took him by the hand, and in a softened tone said, "come, nothing of that my dear boy, nothing of that. A lad of your talents and merit, must not languish in the back ground for lack of a little money to bring you forward. So make me out, as I said, a list of such articles as you may want, and I'll send for them at once to London.-But stop! would it not be better for you to go to London and choose these things yourself? you could then, you know, be sure to have them all of the best quality. And besides you could form an acquaintance with some clever fellows in the book selling and stationary line, whose friendship might be worth a jew's eye to you, in your business here.

Ben, hardly able now to speak, thanked the governor as well as he could for so generous an offer.-"Well then," continued the governor, "get yourself in readiness to go with the Annis." The reader will please to be informed, that the Annis was, at that time, (1722) the only regular trader between London and Philadelphia, and she made but one voyage in the year! Finding that the Annis was not to sail for several months yet, Ben prudently continued to do journey work for old Keimer; but often haunted with the ghost of Vernon's money which he had lent to Collins; and for fear of what would 227264B

become of him if Vernon should be strict to mark his iniquities in that mad affair. But happily for him, Vernon made no demand. It appeared afterwards that this worthy man had not forgotten his money. But learning from a variety of quarters, that Ben was a perfect nondescript of industry and frugality, he concluded that as the money was not paid, Ben was probably under the hatches. He therefore, generously, let the matter lie over till a distant day, when Ben, as we shall by and by see, paid him up fully, both principal and interest, and thus recovered the high ground he formerly held in his friendship. Thanks be to God who has given to inflexible honesty and industry, such power over the “heart strings," as well "purse strings" of mankind

CHAPTER XXIII.

at

BEN was naturally comic in a high degree, and this pleasant vein greatly improved by his present golden prospects, betrayed him into many a frolic with Keimer, to whom he had prudently attached himself as a journeyman, until the Annis should sail. The reader will excuse Ben for these frolics when he comes to learn what were their aims; as also what an insufferable old creature this Keimer was. Silly as a BOOBY, yet vain as a JAY, and garrulous as a PIE, he could never rest but when in a stiff argument, and acting the orator, which he looked on Cicero himself as but a boy to him. Here was a fine target for Ben's SOCRATIC ARTILLERY, which he frequently played off on the old pomposo with great effect. By questious artfully put, he would obtain of him certain points, which Keimer readily granted, as seeing in them no sort of connexion with the matter in debate. But yet these points, when granted, like distant nets slyly hauling round a porpoise or sturgeon, would, by degrees, so completely circumvent the silly fish that with all his flouncing and fury, he could never extricate himself, but rather got more deeply entangled. Often caught in this way; he became at last so afraid of Ben's questions that he would turn as mad, when one of them

was "poked at him," as a bull at sight of a scarlet cloak; and would not answer the simplest question without first asking, "well, and what would you make of that?" He came at length to form so exalted an opinion of Ben's talents for refutation, that he seriously proposed to him one day that they should turn out together and preach up a NEW RELIGION! Keimer was to preach and make the converts, and Ben to answer and put to silence the gainsayers. He said a world of money might be made by it.

On hearing the outlines of this new religion, Ben found great fault with it. This he did only that he might have another frolic with Keimer, but his frolics were praise-worthy, for they all "leaned to virtue's side." The truth is, he saw that Keimer was prodigiously a hypocrite. At every whip-stitch he could play the knave, and then for a pretence would read his Bible. But it was not the moral part of the Bible, the sweet precepts and parables of the Gospel that he read. No verily Food so angelic was not at all to the tooth of his childish fancy, which delighted in nothing but the novel and curious. Like too many of the saints now-adays, he would rather read about the WITCH OF ENdor, than the GOOD SAMARITAN, and hear a sermon on the brazen candlesticks than on the LOVE OF GOD. And then, O dear! who was Melchizedeck? Or where was

the land of Nod? Or, was it in the shape of a serpent or a monkey that the devil tempted Eve? As he was one day poring over the pentateuch as busy after some nice game of this sort as a terrier on the track of a weazel, he came to that famous text where Moses says, "thou shalt not mar the corners of thy beard." Aye! this was the divinity for Keimer. It struck him like a new light from the clouds: then rolling his eyes as from an apparition, he exclaimed, "miserable man that I am! and was indeed forbidden to mar even the corners of my beal, and have I been all this time shaving myself as smooth as an eunuch! Fire and brimstone, how have you been boiling up for me, and I knew it not! Hell, deepest hell is my portion, that's a clear case, unless I reform And reform I will if I live. Yes, my poor naked chin, if ever I but get another crop upon thee and I suffer it

to be touched by the ungodly st eel, then let my right hand forget her cunning."

From that day he became as shy of a razor as ever Sampson was. His long black whiskers "whistled in the wind." And then to see how he would stand up before his glass and stroke them down, it would have reminded you of some ancient Druid adjusting the sacred Misletoe.

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 the charm,

Eternal Justice to disarm?"

He even proposed to him to get shaved. Keimer swore outright that he would never lose his beard. A stiff altercation ensued. But Keimer getting angry, Ben agreed at last to give up the beard. He said that, "as the beard at best was but an external, a mere excrèscence, he would not insist on that as so very essential. But certainly sir," continued he, "there is one thing that is.

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, who was a great glutton, said he could never fast.

Ben then insisted that if they were not to fast altogether, they ought at any rate, to abstain from animal food, and live as the saints of old did, on vegetables and

water.

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 Abed-nego, 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?"

While Ben argued at this rate, Keimer regarded him with a look which seemed to say, "Very true, sir; all this is very true; but still I cannot go it.

Ben, still unwilling to give up his point, thought he would make one more push at hin. 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."

This was touching him on the right string; for Keimer was a man of such vanity, that a little flattery would put him up to any thing. So after a few hems and ha's, he said, he believed he would at any rate make a trial of this new regimen.

Having thus carried his point, Ben immediately engaged a poor old woman of the neighbourhood to become their cook; and gave her off hand, written receipts for three and forty dishes; not one of which contained a