"Years passed, and I had a little library of pamphlets, the margins filled with my own thoughts. Poetry is the soul's vision, and I wrote my poetry on those pamphlets. Ben, oh, my pamphlets! my pamphlets! They were my soul; all the best of me went into them. "Well, Ben, times changed. King Charles returned, and the Commonwealth vanished, but I still added to my pamphlets for years and years. Then I heard of you. I always loved Brother Josiah, and my son was on this side of the water, and the longing grew to sail for America, where my heart then was, as I have told you." "I see how you felt, uncle." "I dreamed how to get the money; I prayed for the money. One day a London bookseller said to me: 'You have been collecting pamphlets. Have you one entitled Human Freedom'? I answered that I had, but that it was covered with notes. He asked me to let him come to my lodgings and read it. He came and looked over all my pamphlets, and told me that a part of the collection had become rare and valuable; that they might have a value in legal cases that would arise owing to the change in the times. He offered to buy them. I refused to sell them, on account of what I had written on the margins of the leaves. What I wrote were my revelations. "He went away. Then my loneliness increased, and my longing to come to America. I could sell my valuables, and among them the pamphlets, and this would give me money wherewith to make the great change." "You sold them, uncle?" "When I thought of Brother Josiah, I was tempted to do it. But I at first said 'No.' When I heard that my son was making a home for himself here, I again was tempted to do it. But I said, 'No.' I could not sell myself. "Then there came a letter from Brother Josiah. It said: 'I have another son. We have named him Benjamin, after you. We have named you as his godfather.' "Then I sat down on the side of the bed in my room, and the tears fell. "'_We have named him Benjamin_'--how those words went to my heart!" "It was the first time that you ever heard of me, wasn't it, uncle?" "Yes, yes; it makes me happy to hear you say that. And you will never forget me, will you, Ben?" "Never, uncle, if I live to be eighty years old! But, uncle, you sold the pamphlets!" "Yes. When I read your name in Josiah's letter I felt a weight lifted from my mind. I said to myself that I would part with myself--that is, the pamphlets--for you." "Did you sell them for me, uncle?" "Yes, I sold them for you, Benjamin." "What was the man's name that bought them, uncle?" "I hoped that you would ask me that. His name was Axel. Repeat it, Ben." "Axel." "It is a hard name to forget." "I shall never forget it, uncle." "Ben, you may go to London sometime." "We are all poor now." "But you have _personality_, and people who look out for others are needed by others for many things. Maybe they will sometime send you there." "Who, uncle?"