Mr. Denham was a friend to men in need of good influences. He saw Franklin's need of advice, and he said to him: "My young friend, you should return to Philadelphia. It is the place of opportunity." "But I have not the means." "I have the means for you. I am about to return to America with a cargo of merchandise. You must go back with me. Your place in life is there." Should he go? It was early summer. He went out on London Bridge one night. It grew dark late. But at last there gleamed in the dark water the lights of London like stars. Many voices filled the air as the boats passed by. The nine o'clock bells rang. It may be that he heard the Bow bells ring, the bells that said, "Come back! come back! come back!" to young Dick Whittington when he was running away from his place in life. If so, he must have been reminded of all that this man accomplished by heeding the voice of the bells, and of how King Henry had said, after all his benefactions, "Did ever a prince have such a subject?" He must have thought of Uncle Tom and the bells of Nottingham on this clear night of lovely airs and out-of-door merriments. Over the great city towered St. Paul's under the rising moon. Afar was the Abbey, with the dust of kings. Then he thought of Uncle Benjamin's pamphlets. It seemed useless for one to look for books in this great city of London. Franklin never saw ghosts, except such as arise out of conscience into the eye of the mind. But the old man's form and his counsels now came into the view of the imagination. His old Boston home came back to his dreams; Jenny came back to him, and the face of the young woman whom he had learned to love in Philadelphia. He resolved to return. America was his land, and he must build with her builders. He sailed for America with his good adviser, the honest merchant, July 21, 1726, and left noblemen's sons to learn to swim in the manner that he himself had mastered the water. Did he ever see Governor Keith again? Yes. After his return to Philadelphia he met there upon the street one who was becoming a discredited man. The latter recognized him, but his face turned into confusion. He did not bow; nor did Franklin. It was Governor Keith. This Governor Please-Everybody died in London after years of poverty, at the age of eighty. Silence Dogood may have thought of his father's raised spectacles when he met Sir William that day on the street, and when they did not wish to recognize each other, or of Jenny's words, "Ben, don't go back." He had learned some hard lessons from the book of life, and he would henceforth be true to the most unselfish counsels on earth--the heart and voice of home. CHAPTER XXII. A PENNY ROLL WITH HONOR.--JENNY'S SPINNING-WHEEL. BENJAMIN became a printer again. By the influence of friends he opened in Philadelphia an office in part his own.