CHAPTER XIX.

ON the arrival of the vessel at New-York, Ben went up to a tavern, and lo! whom should he first cast his eyes on there, but his old friend Collins, of Boston!

Collins had, it seems, been so charmed with Ben's account of Philadelphia, that he came to the determi nation to try his fortune there also; and learning that Be was shortly to return by the way of New-York, he had jumped into the first vessel, and was there before him, waiting his arrival. Great was the joy of Ben at sight of his friend Collins, for it drew after it a train of the most pleasant recollections.-But who can describe his feelings, when flying to embrace that long esteemed youth, he beheld him now risen from his chair equally eager for the embrace, but alas! only able to make a staggering step or two before down he came sprawling on the floor, drunk as a lord!

To see a young man of his wit-his eloquence-his education his hitherto upstained character and high promise, thus overwhelmed by a worse than brutal vice, would have been a sad sight to Ben, even though that young man had been an entire stranger. But oh! how tenfold sad to see such marks of ruinous dishonour on one so dear, and from whom he had expected so much.

Ben had just returned from assisting to put poor Collins to bed, when the captain of the vessel which had brought him to New-York, stepped up and in a very resped manner put a note into his hand:-Ben opened it, nor without considerable agitation, and read as follows:

"G Burnet's compliments await young Mr. Franklin -and should be glad of half an hour's chat with him over a glass of wine.'

"G. Burnet!" said Ben, "who can that be?"

"Why, 'tis the governor," replied the captain with a smile. I have just been to see him, with some letters I brought for him from Boston. And when I told him what a world of books you have, he expressed a curiosity to see you, and begged I would return with you to his palace."

Ben instantly set off with the captain, but not without a sigh as he cast a look back on the door of poor Collins' bed-room, to think what an honour that wretched young man had lost for the sake of two or three vile gulps of filthy grog.

The governor's looks, at the approach of Ben, show ed somewhat of disappointment. He had, it seems, expected considerable entertainment from Ben's conversation. But his fresh and ruddy countenance showed him so much younger than he had counted on, that he gave up all his promised entertainment as a lost hope. He received Ben, however, with great politeness, and after pressing on him a glass of wine, took him into an adjoining room, which was his library, consisting of a large and well chosen collection.

Seeing the pleasure which sparkled in Ben's eyes as he surveyed so many elegant authors, and thought of the rich stores of knowledge which they contained. the governor, with a smile of complacency as on a young pu pil of science, said to him, "Well, Mr. Franklin, I am told by the captain here, that you have a fine collection too."

"Only a trunk full, sir," said Ben.

"A trunk full replied the governor. "Why, what use can you have for so many books? Young people at your age, have seldom read beyond the 10th chapter of Nehemiah."

"I can't boast," replied Ben, "of having read any great deal beyond that myself; but still, I should be sorry if I could not get a trunk full of books to read every six months." At this, the governor regarding him with a look of surprise, said, "You must then, though so young, be a scholar; perhaps a teacher of the languages.'

"No sir," answered Ben, "I know no language but my own."

What, not Latin nor Greek!"

"No, sir, not a word of either."

"Why, don't you think them necessary?"

"I don't set myself up as judge. But I should not suppose them necessary.

"Aye! well, I should like to hear your reasons." "Why, sir, I am not competent to give reasons that may satisfy a gentleman of your learning, but the fol

lowing are the reasons with which I satisfy myself. I look on languages, sir. merely as arbitrary sounds or characters, whereby men communicate their ideas to each other. Now, if Lalready possess a language which is capable of conveying more ideas than I shall ever acquire, were it not wiser ju me to improve my time in getting sense through that one language, than waste it in getting mere sounds through fifty languages, even if I could learn as many?"

Here the governor paused a moment, though not without a little red on his cheeks, for aving only a minute before put Ben and the 10th chapter of Nehemiah so close together. However, catching a new idea, he took another start. "Well, but, my dear sir, you certainly differ from the learned world, which is, you know, decidedly in favour of the languages.'

"I would not wish wantonly to differ from the learned world," said Ben, especially when they maintain. opinions that seem to me founded in truth. But when this is not the case, to differ from them I have ever thought my duty; and especially since I studied Locke." "Locke!" cried the governor with surprise, "you studied Locke!"

"Yes, sit, I studied Locke on the Understanding three years ago, when I was thirteen." "You amaze me, sir. derstanding at thirteen!"

"Yes, sir, I did.".

You study Locke on the Un

"Well, and pray at what college did you study Locke at thirteen; for at Cambridge college in Old England, where I got my education, they never allowed the senior class to look at Locke till eighteen?"

"Why, sir, it was my misfortune never to be at a college, nor even at a grammar school, except nine months when I was a child."

Here the governor sprung from his seat, and staring at Ben, cried out, the devil! well, and where-where did you get your education, pray?"

"At home, sir, in a tallow chandler's shop."

"In a tallow chandler's shop!" screamed the gover

nor.

"Yes, sir; my father was a poor old tallow chandler, with sixteen children, and I the youngest of all. At

eight he put me to school, but finding he could not spare the money from the rest of the children to keep me there, he took me home into the shop, where I assisted him by twisting the candle wicks and filling the moulds all day, and at night I read by myself. At twelve, my father bound me to my brother, a printer, in Boston, and with him I worked hard all day at the press and cases, and again read by myself at night."

Here the governor, spanking his hands together, put up a loud whistle. while his eye-balls, wild with surprise, rolled about in their sockets as if in a mighty mind to hop out. "Impossible, young man!" he exclaimed: "Impossible! you are only sounding my cre dulity. I can never believe one half of all this." Then turning to the captain, he sa d, "captain, you are an intelligent man, and from Boston, pray tell me can this young man here, be aiming at any thing but to quiz me?"

"No, indeed, please your excellency," replied the captain, "Mr. Franklin is not quizzing you He is say ing what is really true, for I am acquainted with his father and family."

The governor then turning to Ben, said more moderately, "Well, my dear wonderful boy, I ask your par don for doubting your word, and now pray tell me, for I feel a stronger desire than ever to hear your objection to learning the dead languages."

"Why, sir, I object to it principally on account of the shortness of human life. Taking them one with another, men do not live above forty years. Plutarch, indeed, puts it only thirty-three. But say forty. Well, of this tuli ten years are lost in childhood before any boy thinks of a Latin grammar. This brings the forty down to thirty. Now of such a moment as this, to spend five or six years in learning the dead languages, especially when all the best books in those languages are translated into ours, and besides, we already have more books on every subject than such short-lived creatures can ever acquire, seems very preposterous."

"Well, but what are you to do with their great poets, Virgil and Homer, for example; I suppose you would not think of translating Homer out of his rich native Greek into our poor homespun English, would you?"

"Why not, sir?"

"Why I should as soon think of transplanting a piue apple from Jamaica to Boston.”

"Well, sir, a skilful gardener, with his hot house, can give us nearly as fine a pine apple as any in Jamaica. And so Mr. Pope, with his fine imagination, has given us Homer, in English, with more of his beauties than ordinary scholars would find in him after forty years' study of the Greek. And besides, sir, if Homer was not translated, I am far from thinking it would be worth spending five or six years to learn to read him in his own language."

"You differ from the critics, Mr. Franklin, for the eritics all tell us that his beauties are inimitable."

"Yes, sir, and the naturalists tell us that the beauties of the basilisk are inimitable too."

"The basilisk, sir! Homer compared with the basilisk! I really don't understand you, sir."

"Why, I mean, sir, that as the basilisk is the more ta

bo dun. A

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readed for the beautiful skin that covers his poison, so Homer for the bright colourings he throws over bad characters and passions. Now, as I don't think the beauties of poetry are comparable to those of philanthropy, nor a thousandth part so important to human happiness, I must confess I dread Homer, especially as the companion of youth. The humane and gentle virtues are certainly the greatest charms and sweeteners of life. And I suppose, sir, you would hardly think of sending your son to Achilles to learn these."

"I agree he has too much revenge in his composition." "Yes, sir, and when painted in the colours which Homer's glowing fancy lends, what youth but must run the most eminent risk of catching a spark of bad fire from such a blaze as he throws on his pictures?"

"Why this, though an uncommon view of the subject, is, I confess, an ingenious one, Mr. Franklin, but surely 'tis overstrained."

"Not all, sir, we are told from good authority, that it was the reading of Homer that first put it into the head of Alexander the great to become a HERO: and after him of Charles the 12th. What millions of human be ings have been slaughtered by these two great butchers is not known; but still probably not a tythe of what