committed and punished annually in England than in all the other nations
put together. If this be so, there must be a cause or causes for such
depravity in our common people. May not one be the deficiency of justice
and morality in our national government, manifested in our oppressive
conduct to subjects, and unjust wars on our neighbours? View the
long-persisted-in, unjust, monopolizing treatment of Ireland, at length
acknowledged! View the plundering government exercised by our merchants
in the Indies; the confiscating war made upon the American colonies;
and, to say nothing of those upon France and Spain, view the late war
upon Holland, which was seen by impartial Europe in no other light than
that of a war of rapine and pillage; the hopes of an immense and easy
prey being its only apparent, and probably its true and real motive and
encouragement. Justice is as strictly due between neighbour nations as
between neighbour citizens. A highwayman is as much a robber when he
plunders in a gang as when single; and a nation that makes an unjust war
is only a great gang. After employing your people in robbing the Dutch,
it is strange that, being put out of that employ by peace, they still
continue robbing, and rob one another? _Piraterie_, as the French call
it, or privateering, is the universal bent of the English nation, at
home and abroad, wherever settled. No less than seven hundred privateers
were, it is said, commissioned in the last war! These were fitted out by
merchants, to prey upon other merchants who had never done them any
injury. Is there probably any one of those privateering merchants of
London, who were so ready to rob the merchants of Amsterdam, that would
not as easily plunder another London merchant of the next street, if he
could do it with the same impunity? The avidity, the _alieni
appetens_[10] is the same; it is the fear of the gallows that makes the
difference. How, then, can a nation, which among the honestest of its
people has so many thieves by inclination, and whose government
encouraged and commissioned no less than seven hundred gangs of robbers;
how can such a nation have the face to condemn the crime in individuals,
and hang up twenty of them in a morning! It naturally puts one in mind
of a Newgate anecdote. One of the prisoners complained that in the night
somebody had taken his buckles out of his shoes. "What the devil!" says
another, "have we then _thieves_ among us? It must not be suffered. Let
us search out the rogue and pump him to death."
[10] Coveting what is the property of another.
There is, however, one late instance of an English merchant who will not
profit by such ill-gotten gain. He was, it seems, part owner of a ship,
which the other owners thought fit to employ as a letter of marque,
which took a number of French prizes. The booty being shared, he has now
an agent here inquiring, by an advertisement in the Gazette, for those
who have suffered the loss, in order to make them, as far as in him
lies, restitution. This conscientious man is a Quaker. The Scotch
Presbyterians were formerly as tender; for there is still extant an
ordinance of the town-council of Edinburgh, made soon after the
Reformation, "forbidding the purchase of prize goods, under pain of
losing the freedom of the burgh for ever, with other punishment at the
will of the magistrate; the practice of making prizes being contrary to
good conscience, and the rule of treating Christian brethren as we would
wish to be treated; and such goods _are not to be sold by any Godly man
within this burgh_." The race of these Godly men in Scotland are
probably extinct, or their principles abandoned, since, as far as that
nation had a hand in promoting the war against the colonies, prizes and
confiscations are believed to have been a considerable motive.
It has been for some time a generally received opinion, that a military
man is not to inquire whether a war be just or unjust; he is to execute
his orders. All princes who are disposed to become tyrants must probably
approve of this opinion, and be willing to establish it; but is it not a
dangerous one? since, on that principle, if the tyrant commands his army
to attack and destroy not only an unoffending neighbour nation, but even
his own subjects, the army is bound to obey. A negro slave in our
colonies, being commanded by his master to rob and murder a neighbour,
or do any other immoral act, may refuse, and the magistrate will protect
him in his refusal. The slavery, then, of a soldier is worse than that
of a negro! A conscientious officer, if not restrained by the
apprehension of its being imputed to another cause, may indeed resign
rather than be employed in an unjust war; but the private men are slaves
for life; and they are, perhaps, incapable of judging for themselves. We
can only lament their fate, and still more that of a sailor, who is
often dragged by force from his honest occupation, and compelled to
imbrue his hands in perhaps innocent blood. But methinks it well
behooves merchants (men more enlightened by their education, and
perfectly free from any such force or obligation) to consider well of
the justice of a war, before they voluntarily engage a gang of ruffians
to attack their fellow-merchants of a neighbouring nation, to plunder
them of their property, and perhaps ruin them and their families if they
yield it, or to wound, maim, and murder them, if they endeavour to
defend it. Yet these things are done by Christian merchants, whether a
war be just or unjust; and it can hardly be just on both sides. They are
done by English and American merchants, who nevertheless complain of
private theft, and hang by dozens the thieves they have taught by their
own example.
It is high time, for the sake of humanity, that a stop were put to this
enormity. The United States of America, though better situated than any
European nation to make profit by privateering (most of the trade of
Europe with the West Indies passing before their doors), are, as far as
in them lies, endeavouring to abolish the practice, by offering, in all
their treaties with other powers, an article, engaging solemnly that, in
case of future war, no privateer shall be commissioned on either side;
and that unarmed merchant ships on both sides shall pursue their
voyages unmolested.[11] This will be a happy improvement of the law of
nations. The humane and the just cannot but wish general success to the
proposition.
[11] This offer having been accepted by the late king of Prussia, a
treaty of amity and commerce was concluded between that monarch and
the United States, containing the following humane, philanthropic
article, in the formation of which Dr. Franklin, as one of the
American plenipotentiaries, was principally concerned, viz.,
"ART. XXIII. If war should arise between the two contracting
parties, the merchants of either country then residing in the other
shall be allowed to remain nine months to collect their debts and
settle their affairs, and may depart freely, carrying off all their
effects without molestation or hinderance; and all women and
children, scholars of every faculty, cultivators of the earth,
artisans, manufacturers, and fishermen, unarmed and inhabiting
unfortified towns, villages, and places, and, in general, all
others whose occupations are for the common subsistence and benefit
of mankind, shall be allowed to continue their respective
employments, and shall not be molested in their persons, nor shall
their houses or goods be burned or otherwise destroyed, nor their
fields wasted by the armed force of the enemy into whose power, by
the events of war, they may happen to fall; but if anything is
necessary to be taken from them for the use of such armed force,
the same shall be paid for at a reasonable price. And all merchant
and trading vessels employed in exchanging the products of
different places, and thereby rendering the necessaries,
conveniences, and comforts of human life more easy to be obtained,
and more general, shall be allowed to pass free and unmolested; and
neither of the contracting powers shall grant or issue any
commission to any private armed vessels, empowering them to take or
destroy such trading vessels or interrupt such commerce."
With unchangeable esteem and affection,
I am, my dear friend,
Ever yours.
* * * * *
LETTER FROM ANTHONY AFTERWIT.
MR. GAZETTEER,
I am an honest tradesman, who never meant harm to anybody. My affairs
went on smoothly while a bachelor; but of late I have met with some
difficulties, of which I take the freedom to give you an account.
About the time I first addressed my present spouse, her father gave out
in speeches that, if she married a man he liked, he would give with her
two hundred pounds in cash on the day of marriage. He never said so much
to me, it is true; but he always received me very kindly at his house,
and openly countenanced my courtship. I formed several fine schemes what
to do with this same two hundred pounds, and in some measure neglected
my business on that account; but, unluckily, it came to pass, that, when
the old gentleman saw I was pretty well engaged, and that the match was
too far gone to be easily broke off, he, without any reason given, grew
very angry, forbid me the house, and told his daughter that if she
married me he would not give her a farthing. However (as he thought), we
were not to be disappointed in that manner, but, having stole a wedding,
I took her home to my house, where we were not quite in so poor a
condition as the couple described in the Scotch song, who had
"Neither pot nor pan,
But four bare legs together,"
for I had a house tolerably well furnished for a poor man before. No
thanks to Dad, who, I understand, was very much pleased with his politic
management; and I have since learned that there are other old
curmudgeons (so called) besides him, who have this trick to marry their
daughters, and yet keep what they might well spare till they can keep it
no longer. But this by way of digression; a word to the wise is enough.
I soon saw that with care and industry we might live tolerably easy and
in credit with our neighbours; but my wife had a strong inclination to
be a gentlewoman. In consequence of this, my oldfashioned looking-glass
was one day broke, as she said, _no one could tell which way_. However,
since we could not be without a glass in the room, "My dear," saith she,
"we may as well buy a large fashionable one, that Mr. Such-a-one has to
sell. It will cost but little more than a common glass, and will look
much handsomer and more creditable." Accordingly, the glass was bought
and hung against the wall; but in a week's time I was made sensible, by
little and little, that _the table was by no means suitable to such a
glass_; and, a more proper table being procured, some time after, my
spouse, who was an excellent contriver, informed me where we might have
very handsome chairs _in the way_; and thus, by degrees, I found all my
old furniture stowed up in the garret, and everything below altered for
the better.
Had we stopped here, it might have done well enough. But my wife being
entertained with tea by the good woman she visited, we could do no less
than the like when they visited us; so we got a teatable, with all its
appurtenances of China and silver. Then my spouse unfortunately
overworked herself in washing the house, so that we could do no longer
without a maid. Besides this, it happened frequently that when I came
home at one, the dinner was but just put in the pot, and _my dear
thought really it had been but eleven_. At other times, when I came at
the same hour, _she wondered I would stay so long, for dinner was ready
about one, and had waited for me these two hours_. These irregularities,
occasioned by mistaking the time, convinced me that it was absolutely
necessary _to buy a clock_, which my spouse observed was _a great
ornament to the room_. And lastly, to my grief, she was troubled with
some ailment or other, and _nothing did her so much good as riding, and
these hackney-horses were such wretched ugly creatures that_--I bought a
very fine pacing mare, which cost twenty pounds; and hereabouts affairs
have stood for about a twelvemonth past.
I could see all along that this did not at all suit with my
circumstances, but had not resolution enough to help it, till lately,
receiving a very severe dun, which mentioned the next court, I began in
earnest to project relief. Last Monday, my dear went over the river to
see a relation and stay a fortnight, because she could not bear the heat
of the town air. In the interim I have taken my turn to make
alterations; namely, I have turned away the maid, bag and baggage (for
what should we do with a maid, who, besides our boy, have none but
ourselves?) I have sold the pacing mare, and bought a good milch-cow
with three pounds of the money. I have disposed of the table, and put a
good spinning-wheel in its place, which, methinks, looks very pretty;
nine empty canisters I have stuffed with flax, and with some of the
money of the tea-furniture I have bought a set of knitting-needles, for,
to tell you the truth, _I begin to want stockings_. The fine clock I
have transformed into an hourglass, by which I have gained a good round
sum; and one of the pieces of the old looking-glass, squared and framed,
supplies the place of the great one, which I have conveyed into a
closet, where it may possibly remain some years. In short, the face of
things is quite changed, and methinks you would smile to see my
hourglass hanging in the place of the clock. What a great ornament it
is to the room! I have paid my debts, and find money in my pocket. I
expect my dear home next Friday, and, as your paper is taken at the
house where she is, I hope the reading of this will prepare her mind for
the above surprising revolutions. If she can conform herself to this new
manner of living, we shall be the happiest couple, perhaps, in the
province, and, by the blessing of God, may soon be in thriving
circumstances. I have reserved the great glass, because I know her heart
is set upon it; I will allow her, when she comes in, to be taken
suddenly ill with _the headache_, _the stomach-ache_, _fainting-fits_,
or whatever other disorder she may think more proper, and she may retire
to bed as soon as she pleases. But if I should not find her in perfect
health, both of body and mind, the next morning, away goes the aforesaid
great glass, with several other trinkets I have no occasion for, to the
vendue, that very day; which is the irrevocable resolution
Of, sir, her loving husband and
Your very humble servant,
ANTHONY AFTERWIT.
P.S.--I would be glad to know how you approve my conduct.
_Answer._--I don't love to concern myself in affairs between man and
wife.
LETTERS.
"_Mrs. Abiah Franklin._
"Philadelphia, April (date uncertain).
"HONOURED MOTHER,
"We received your kind letter of the 2d instant, by which we are glad to
hear you still enjoy such a measure of health, notwithstanding your
great age. We read your writings very easily. I never met with a word in
your letter but what I could easily understand, for, though the hand is
not always the best, the sense makes everything plain. My leg, which you
inquire after, is now quite well. I shall keep these servants: but the
man not in my own house. I have hired him out to the man that takes care
of my Dutch printing-office, who agrees to keep him in victuals and
clothes, and to pay me a dollar a week for his work. The wife, since
that affair, behaves exceeding well: but we conclude to sell them both
the first good opportunity, for we do not like negro servants. We got
again about half what we lost.
"As to your grandchildren, Will is now 19 years of age, a tall, proper
youth, and much of a beau. He acquired a habit of idleness on the
expedition, but begins, of late, to apply himself to business, and, I
hope, will become an industrious man. He imagined his father had got
enough for him; but I have assured him that I intend to spend what
little I have myself, if it please God that I live long enough, and he
can see, by my going on, that I mean to be as good as my word.
"Sally grows a fine girl, and is extremely industrious with her needle,
and delights in her work. She is of a most affectionate temper, and
perfectly dutiful and obliging to her parents and to all. Perhaps I
flatter myself too much, but I have hope that she will prove an
ingenious, sensible, notable, and worthy woman, like her aunt Jenny; she
goes now to the dancing school.
"For my own part, at present, I pass my time agreeably enough; I enjoy
(through mercy) a tolerable share of health. I read a great deal, ride a
little, do a little business for myself (now and then for others),
retire when I can, and go into company when I please so; the years roll
round, and the last will come, when I would rather have it said _he
lived usefully_ than _he died rich_.
"Cousins Josiah and Sally are well, and I believe will do well, for they
are an industrious, loving young couple; but they want a little more
stock to go on smoothly with their business.
"My love to brother and sister Mecom and their children, and to all my
relations in general. I am your dutiful son,
"B. FRANKLIN."
* * * * *
"_Miss Jane Franklin._[12]
[12] His sister married Mr. Edward Mecom, July 27, 1727.
"Philadelphia, January 6, 1726-7.
"DEAR SISTER,
"I am highly pleased with the account Captain Freeman gives me of you. I
always judged by your behaviour when a child, that you would make a
good, agreeable woman, and you know you were ever my peculiar favourite.
I have been thinking what would be a suitable present for me to make,
and for you to receive, as I hear you are grown a celebrated beauty. I
had almost determined on a teatable; but when I considered that the
character of a good housewife was far preferable to that of being only a
pretty gentlewoman, I concluded to send you a _spinning-wheel_, which I
hope you will accept as a small token of my sincere love and affection.
"Sister, farewell, and remember that modesty as it makes the most homely
virgin amiable and charming, so the want of it infallibly renders the
most perfect beauty disagreeable and odious. But when that brightest of
female virtues shines among other perfections of body and mind in the
same person, it makes the woman more lovely than an angel. Excuse this
freedom, and use the same with me. I am, dear Jenny, your loving
brother,
"B. FRANKLIN."
* * * * *
_To the same._
Philadelphia, July 28, 1743.
"DEAREST SISTER JENNY,
"I took your admonition very kindly, and was far from being offended at
you for it. If I say anything about it to you, 'tis only to rectify some
wrong opinions you seem to have entertained of me; and this I do only
because they give you some uneasiness, which I am unwilling to be the
cause of. You express yourself as if you thought I was against
worshipping of God, and doubt that good works would merit heaven; which
are both fancies of your own, I think, without foundation. I am so far
from thinking that God is not to be worshipped, that I have composed and
wrote a whole book of devotions for my own use, and I imagine there are
few, if any, in the world so weak as to imagine that the little good we
can do here can merit so vast a reward hereafter.
"There are some things in your New-England doctrine and worship which I
do not agree with: but I do not therefore condemn them, or desire to
shake your belief or practice of them. We may dislike things that are
nevertheless right in themselves: I would only have you make me the same
allowance, and have a better opinion both of morality and your brother.
Read the pages of Mr. Edwards's late book, entitled, 'Some Thoughts
concerning the present Revival of Religion in New-England,' from 367 to
375; and when you judge of others, if you can perceive the fruit to be
good, don't terrify yourself that the tree may be evil; but be assured
it is not so, for you know who has said, 'Men do not gather grapes off
thorns, and figs off thistles.' I have not time to add, but that I shall
always be your affectionate brother,
"B. FRANKLIN.
"P.S.--It was not kind in you, when your sister commenced good works, to
suppose she intended it a reproach to you. 'Twas very far from her
thoughts."
* * * * *
"_To Mr. George Whitefield._
"Philadelphia, June 6, 1753.
"SIR,
"I received your kind letter of the 2d instant, and am glad to hear that
you increase in strength; I hope you will continue mending till you
recover your former health and firmness. Let me know whether you still
use the cold bath, and what effect it has.
"As to the kindness you mention, I wish it could have been of more
service to you. But if it had, the only thanks I should desire is, that
you would always be equally ready to serve any other person that may
need your assistance, and so let good offices go round; for mankind are
all of a family.
"For my own part, when I am employed in serving others, I do not look
upon myself as conferring favours, but as paying debts. In my travels
and since my settlement, I have received much kindness from men to whom
I shall never have an opportunity of making the least direct return, and
numberless mercies from God, who is infinitely above being benefited by
our services. Those kindnesses from men I can therefore only return on
their fellow-men, and I can only show my gratitude for these mercies
from God by a readiness to help his other children and my brethren. For
I do not think that thanks and compliments, though repeated weekly, can
discharge our real obligations to each other, and much less those to our
Creator. You will see in this my notion of good works, that I am far
from expecting to merit heaven by them. By heaven we understand a state
of happiness infinite in degree and eternal in duration: I can do
nothing to deserve such rewards. He that, for giving a draught of water
to a thirsty person, should expect to be paid with a good plantation,
would be modest in his demands compared with those who think they
deserve heaven for the little good they do on earth. Even the mixed,
imperfect pleasures we enjoy in this world are rather from God's
goodness than our merit: how much more such happiness of heaven! For my
part, I have not the vanity to think I deserve it, the folly to expect
it, nor the ambition to desire it; but content myself in submitting to
the will and disposal of that God who made me, who has hitherto
preserved and blessed me, and in whose fatherly goodness I may well
confide, that he will never make me miserable, and that even the
afflictions I may at any time suffer shall tend to my benefit. * * * *
"I wish you health and happiness.
"B. FRANKLIN."
* * * * *
"_To Mrs. D. Franklin._
"Guadenhathen, January 25, 1756.
"MY DEAR CHILD,
"This day week we arrived here; I wrote to you the same day, and once
since. We all continue well, thanks be to God. We have been hindered
with bad weather, yet our fort is in a good defensible condition, and we
have every day more convenient living. Two more are to be built, one on
each side of this, at about fifteen miles' distance. I hope both will be
done in a week or ten days, and then I purpose to bend my course
homeward.
"We have enjoyed your roast beef, and this day began on the roast veal;
all agree that they are both the best that ever were of the kind. Your
citizens, that have their dinners hot and hot, know nothing of good
eating; we find it in much greater perfection when the kitchen is
fourscore miles from the dining-room.
"The apples are extremely welcome, and do bravely to eat after our salt
pork; the minced pies are not yet come to hand, but suppose we shall
find them among the things expected up from Bethlehem on Tuesday; the
capillaire is excellent, but none of us having taken cold as yet, we
have only tasted it.
"As to our lodging, 'tis on deal feather beds, in warm blankets, and
much more comfortable than when we lodged at our inn the first night
after we left home; for the woman being about to put very damp sheets on
the bed, we desired her to air them first; half an hour afterward she
told us the bed was ready and the sheets _well aired_. I got into bed,
but jumped out immediately, finding them as cold as death, and partly
frozen. She had _aired_ them indeed, but it was out upon the _hedge_. I
was forced to wrap myself up in my greatcoat and woollen trousers;
everything else about the bed was shockingly dirty.
"As I hope in a little time to be with you and my family, and chat
things over, I now only add that I am, dear Debby, your affectionate
husband,
"B. FRANKLIN."
* * * * *
"_To the same._
"Easton, Saturday morning, November 13, 1756.
"MY DEAR CHILD,
"I wrote to you a few days since by a special messenger, and enclosed
letters for all our wives and sweethearts, expecting to hear from you by
his return, and to have the northern newspapers and English letters per
the packet; but he is just now returned without a scrap for poor us. So
I had a good mind not to write to you by this opportunity; but I never
can be ill-natured enough, even when there is the most occasion. The
messenger says he left the letters at your house, and saw you afterward
at Mr. Dentie's, and told you when he would go, and that he lodged at
Honey's, next door to you, and yet you did not write; so let Goody Smith
give one more just judgment, and say what should be done to you; I think
I won't tell you that we are well, nor that we expect to return about
the middle of the week, nor will I send you a word of news; that's poz.
My duty to mother, love to the children, and to Miss Betsey and Gracey,
&c., &c.
"B. FRANKLIN.
"P.S.--I have _scratched out the loving words_, being written in haste
by mistake, _when I forgot . was angry_."
[Transcriber's Note: Unreadable word after "I forgot"]
* * * * *
"_Mrs. Jane Mecom, Boston._
New-York, April 19, 1757.
"DEAR SISTER,
"I wrote a few lines to you yesterday, but omitted to answer yours
relating to sister Dowse. _As having their own way_ is one of the
greatest comforts of life to old people, I think their friends should
endeavour to accommodate them in that as well as anything else. When
they have long lived in a house, it becomes natural to them; they are
almost as closely connected with it as the tortoise with his shell: they
die if you tear them out of it. Old folks and old trees, if you remove
them, 'tis ten to one that you kill them, so let our good old sister be
no more importuned on that head: we are growing old fast ourselves, and
shall expect the same kind of indulgences; if we give them, we shall
have a right to receive them in our turn.