In the Days of Poor Richard

  CHAPTER III

  THE JOURNEY TO PHILADELPHIA

  The _New York Mercury_ of November 4, 1770, contains this item:

  "John Irons, Jr., and Solomon Binkus, the famous scout, arrivedWednesday morning on the schooner _Ariel_ from Albany. Mr. Binkus ison his way to Alexandria, Virginia, where he is to meet MajorWashington and accompany him to the Great Kanawha River in the FarWest."

  Solomon was soon to meet an officer with whom he was to find theamplest scope for his talents. Jack was on his way to Philadelphia.They had found the ship crowded and Jack and two other boys "piggedtogether"--in the expressive phrase of that time--on the cabin floor,through the two nights of their journey. Jack minded not the hardnessof the floor, but there was much drinking and arguing and expounding ofthe common law in the forward end of the cabin, which often interruptedhis slumbers.

  He was overawed by the length and number of the crowded streets of NewYork and by "the great height" of many of its buildings. The grandeurof Broadway and the fashionable folk who frequented it was the subjectof a long letter which he indited to his mother from The City Tavern.

  He took the boat to Amboy as Benjamin Franklin had done, but withoutmishap, and thence traveled by stage to Burlington. There he met Mr.John Adams of Boston, who was on his way to Philadelphia. He was afull-faced, ruddy, strong-built man of about thirty-five years, withthick, wavy dark hair that fell in well trimmed tufts on either cheekand almost concealed his ears. It was beginning to show gray. He hada prominent forehead, large blue and expressive eyes and a voice clearand resonant. He was handsomely dressed.

  Mr. Adams greeted the boy warmly and told him that the testimony whichhe and Solomon Binkus gave had saved the life of Captain Preston. Thegreat lawyer took much interest in the boy and accompanied him to thetop of the stage, the weather being clear and warm. Mr. Adams satfacing Jack, and beside the latter was a slim man with a small sadcountenance which wore a permanent look of astonishment. Jack says ina letter that his beard "was not composed of hair, but hairs asstraight and numerable as those in a cat's whiskers." They were alsogray like his eyes. After the stage had started this man turned toJack and asked:

  "What is your name, boy?"

  "John Irons."

  The man opened his eyes wider and drew in his breath between partedlips as if he had heard a most astonishing fact.

  "My name is Pinhorn, sir--Eliphalet Pinhorn," he reciprocated. "I havebeen visiting my wife in Newark."

  Jack thought it a singular thing that a man should have been visitinghis wife.

  "May I ask where you are going?" the man inquired of the boy.

  "To Philadelphia."

  Mr. Pinhorn turned toward him with a look of increased astonishment anddemanded:

  "Been there before?"

  "Never."

  The man made a sound that was between a sigh and a groan. Then, almoststernly and in a confidential tone, as if suddenly impressed by theperil of an immortal soul, he said:

  "Young man, beware! I say to you, beware!"

  Each stiff gray hair on his chin seemed to erect itself into ananimated exclamation point. Turning again, he whispered:

  "You will soon shake its dust from your feet."

  "Why?"

  "A sinking place! Every one bankrupt or nearly so. Display! Nothingbut display! Feasting, drinking! No thought of to-morrow! Ungodlycity!"

  In concluding his indictment, Mr. Pinhorn partly covered his mouth andwhispered the one word:

  "Babylon!"

  A moment of silence followed, after which he added; "I would neverbuild a house or risk a penny in business there."

  "I am going to work in Doctor Benjamin Franklin's print shop," saidJack proudly.

  Mr. Pinhorn turned with a look of consternation clearly indicating thatthis was the last straw. He warned in a half whisper:

  "Again I say beware! That is the word--beware!"

  He almost shuddered as he spoke, and leaning close to the boy's ear,added in a confidential tone:

  "The King of Babylon! A sinking business! An evil man!" He lookedsternly into the eyes of the boy and whispered: "Very! Oh, very!" Hesat back in his seat again, while the expression of his whole figureseemed to say, "Thank God, my conscience is clear, whatever happens toyou."

  Jack was so taken down by all this that, for a moment, his head swam.Mr. Pinhorn added:

  "Prospered, but how? That is the question. Took the money of a friendand spent it. Many could tell you. Wine! Women! Infidelity! Housebuilt on the sands!"

  Mr. Adams had heard most of the gloomy talk of the slim man. Suddenlyhe said to the slanderer:

  "My friend, did I hear you say that you have been visiting your wife?"

  "You did, sir."

  "Well, I do not wonder that she lives in another part of the country,"said Mr. Adams. "I should think that Philadelphia would feel likemoving away from you. I have heard you say that it was a sinking city.It is nothing of the kind. It is floating in spite of the fact thatthere are human sinkers in it like yourself. I hate the heart of lead.This is the land of hope and faith and confidence. If you do not likeit here, go back to England. _We_ do not put our money into holes inthe wall. We lend it to our neighbors because they are worthy of beingtrusted. We believe in our neighbors. We put our cash into businessand borrow more to increase our profits. It is true that many men inPhiladelphia are in debt, but they are mostly good for what they owe.It is a thriving place. I could not help hearing you speak evil ofDoctor Franklin. He is my friend. I am proud to say it and I shouldbe no friend of his if I allowed your words to go unrebuked. Yours,sir, is a leaden soul. It is without hope or trust in the things ofthis life. You seem not to know that a new world is born. It is aworld of three tenses. We who really live in it are chiefly interestedin what a man is and is likely _to be_, not in what he _was_. DoctorFranklin would not hesitate to tell you that his youth was not all itshould have been. He does not conceal his errors. There is no morehonest gentleman in the wide world than Doctor Franklin."

  Mr. Adams had spoken with feeling and a look of indignation in hiseyes. He was a frank, fearless character. All who sat on the top ofthe coach had heard him and when he had finished they clapped theirhands.

  Jack was much relieved. He had been put in mind of what DoctorFranklin had said long ago, one evening in Albany, of his struggleagainst the faults and follies of his youth. For a moment Mr. Pinhornwas dumb with astonishment.

  "Nevertheless, sir, I hold to my convictions," he said.

  "Of course you do," Mr. Adams answered. "No man like you everrecovered from his convictions, for the reason that his convictions arestronger than he is."

  Mr. Pinhorn partly covered his mouth and turned to the boy andwhispered:

  "It is a time of violent men. Let us hold our peace."

  At the next stop where they halted for dinner Mr. Adams asked the boyto sit down with him at the table. When they were seated the great mansaid:

  "I have to be on guard against catching fire these days. Sometimes Ifeel the need of a companion with a fire bucket. My headlight is hopeand I have little patience with these whispering, croaking Tories andwith the barons of the south and the upper Hudson. I used to hold theplow on my father's farm and I am still plowing as your father is."

  Jack turned with a look of inquiry.

  "We are breaking new land," Mr. Adams went on. "We are treading theordeal path among the red-hot plowshares of politics."

  "It is what I should like to do," said the boy.

  "You will be needed, but we must be without fear, remembering thatalmost every man who has gained real distinction in politics has met aviolent death. There are the shining examples of Brutus, Cassius,Hampden and Sidney, but it is worth while."

  "I believe you taught school at Worcester," said Jack.

  "And I learned at least one thing doing it--that school-teaching is notfor me. It would have turned me into a shrub. Too much piddling! Itis ha
rd enough to teach men that they have rights which even a kingmust respect."

  "Let me remind you, sir," said Mr. Pinhorn, who sat at the same table,"that the King can do no wrong."

  "But his ministers can do as they please," Mr. Adams rejoined, whereatthe whole company broke into laughter.

  Mr. Pinhorn covered his mouth with astonishment, but presently allowedhimself to say: "Sir, I hold to my convictions."

  "You are wrong, sir. It is your convictions that hold to you. Theyare like the dead limbs on a tree," Mr. Adams answered. "The motto ofGreat Britain would seem to be, 'Do no right and suffer no wrong.'They search our ships; they impress our seamen; they impose taxesthrough a Parliament in which we are not represented, and if wethreaten resistance they would have us tried for treason. Nero used tosay that he wished that the inhabitants of Rome had only one neck, sothat he could dispose of them with a single blow. It was a rathermerciful wish, after all. A neck had better be chopped off than heldunder the yoke of tyranny."

  "Sir, England shielded, protected, us from French and Indians," Mr.Pinhorn declared with high indignation.

  "It protected its commerce. We were protecting British interests andourselves. Connecticut had five thousand under arms; Massachusetts,seven thousand; New York, New Jersey and New Hampshire, many more.Massachusetts taxed herself thirteen shillings and four pence to thepound of income. New Jersey expended a pound a head to help pay forthe war. On that score England is our debtor."

  The horn sounded. The travelers arose from the tables and hurried outto the coach.

  "It was a good dinner," Mr. Adams said to Jack when they had climbed totheir seat. "We should be eating potatoes and drinking water, insteadof which we have two kinds of meat and wine and pudding and bread andtea and many jellies. Still, I am a better philosopher after dinnerthan before it. But if we lived simpler, we should pay fewer taxes."

  As they rode along a lady passenger sang the ballad of John Barleycorn,in the chorus of which Mr. Adams joined with much spirit.

  "My capacity for getting fun out of a song is like the gift of a weaselfor sucking eggs," he said.

  So they fared along, and when Jack was taking leave of thedistinguished lawyer at The Black Horse Tavern in Philadelphia thelatter invited the boy to visit him in Boston if his way should leadhim there.