"But you promised me as squarely as possible in Boston that you would not drink any more," continued Benjamin. "Your promise is not worth any thing to me, when it is worth nothing to you; and it is not worth as much to you as a glass of brandy. I am tempted to leave you and all your truck in the sloop here in New York."
John begged and entreated Benjamin not to desert him now, and promised by all that was great and good that he would stop drinking and lead a sober life. In the circumstances, Benjamin could scarcely do otherwise than to pay his bill at the inn and take him along with him, though he very reluctantly decided to do so. Having collected the thirty-five pounds for Mr. Vernon, paid John's bill, and transacted some other business, by the time the sloop was ready to sail, they proceeded to Philadelphia.
There is no record preserved of his experience on the sloop between New York and Philadelphia, except a paragraph in a letter written by Doctor Franklin to Doctor Priestley, in 1780, when the former was seventy-four years of age. He related the experience in order to illustrate the truth, "that all situations in life have their inconveniences." The paragraph is as follows:
"In my youth, I was passenger in a little sloop, descending the river Delaware. There being no wind, we were obliged, when the ebb was spent, to cast anchor and wait for the next. The heat of the sun on the vessel was excessive, the company strangers to me, and not very agreeable. Near the river-side I saw what I took to be a pleasant green meadow, in the middle of which was a large shady tree, where, it struck my fancy, I could sit and read (having a book in my pocket), and pass the time agreeably till the tide turned. I therefore prevailed with the captain to put me ashore. Being landed, I found the greatest part of my meadow was really a marsh, in crossing which, to come at my tree, I was up to my knees in mire; and I had not placed myself under its shade five minutes, before the mosquitoes in swarms found me out, attacked my legs, hands, and face, and made my reading and my rest impossible; so that I returned to the beach, and called for the boat to come and take me on board again, where I was obliged to bear the heat I had strove to quit, and also the laugh of the company. Similar cases in the affairs of life have since frequently fallen under my observation."
In these modern days, it would be said that, when Benjamin arrived in Philadelphia, he "had an elephant on his hands." The most unmanageable and dangerous sort of an elephant on one's hands is a dissolute friend. Benjamin scarcely knew what to do with John. It troubled him exceedingly. But he was wont to make the best of everything, and so he did in this case.
He took John with him to his boarding place, promising to pay his bills until he could find work in some counting-room. John was well qualified for such business, and Benjamin supposed that he could readily find a situation. His estimate of Collins, before and after he began to drink to excess, is given by his own pen, as follows:
"At New York I found my friend Collins, who had arrived there some time before me. We had been intimate from children, and had read the same books together; but he had the advantage of more time for reading and studying, and a wonderful genius for mathematical learning, in which he far outstripped me. While I lived in Boston, most of my hours of leisure for conversation were spent with him, and he continued a sober as well as industrious lad; was much respected for his learning by several of the clergy and other gentlemen, and seemed to promise making a good figure in life. But, during my absence, he had acquired a habit of drinking brandy and I found by his own account, as well as that of others, that he had been drunk every day since his arrival at New York, and behaved himself in a very extravagant manner. He had gamed, too, and lost his money, so that I was obliged to discharge his lodgings, and defray his expenses on the road and at Philadelphia; which proved a great burden to me."
Benjamin called upon Governor Keith as soon as possible, with a letter from his father, in which the governor was thanked and praised for his kindness to his son.
"Your father is too cautious," remarked the governor, after reading the letter. "Some young men are better qualified to do business for themselves at eighteen than others are at twenty-one."
"He said that he would assist me at twenty-one if I should need assistance," replied Benjamin.