A Benjamin Franklin Reader

by Walter Isaacson

  Had the old man been seen acting this last resolution, he would probably have been called a fool for troubling himself about the different opinions of all that were pleased to find fault with him: therefore, though I have a temper almost as complying as his, I intend not to imitate him in this last particular. I consider the variety of humors among men, and despair of pleasing every body; yet I shall not therefore leave off printing. I shall continue my business. I shall not burn my press and melt my letters.

  Sex Sells

  Along with such high-minded principles, Franklin employed some more common strategies to push papers. One ever reliable method, which had particular appeal to the rather raunchy young publisher, was the time-honored truth that sex sells. Franklin’s Gazette was spiced with little leering and titillating items. In the issue a week after his “Apology for Printers,” for example, Franklin wrote about a husband who caught his wife in bed with a man named Stonecutter. The next issue had a similar short item about a horny constable, who had “made an agreement with a neighboring female to watch with her that night” and then mistakenly climbs into the window of a different woman, whose husband was in another room. And then there was the story of the sex-starved woman who wanted to divorce her husband because he could not satisfy her. After her husband was medically examined, however, she moved back in with him.

  THE PENNSYLVANIA GAZETTE, JUNE 17, 1731

  Friday night last, a certain St-n-c-tt-r was, it seems, in a fair way of dying the Death of a Nobleman; for being caught napping with another man’s wife, the injured husband took the advantage of his being so fast asleep, and with a knife began very diligently to cut off his head. But the instrument not being equal to the intended operation, much struggling prevented success; and he was obliged to content himself for the present with bestowing on the aggressor a sound drubbing. The gap made in the side of the st-n-c-tt-r’s neck, though deep, is not thought dangerous; but some people admire, that when the person offended had so fair and suitable an opportunity, it did not enter into his head to turn st-n-c-tt-r himself.

  THE PENNSYLVANIA GAZETTE, JUNE 24, 1731

  Sure some unauspicious cross-grained planet, in opposition to Venus, presides over the affairs of love about this time. For we hear, that on Tuesday last, a certain c-n-table having made an agreement with a neighboring female, to watch with her that night; she promised to leave a window open for him to come in at; but he going his rounds in the dark, unluckily mistook the window, and got into a room where another woman was in bed, and her husband it seems lying on a couch not far distant. The good woman perceiving presently by the extraordinary fondness of her bedfellow that it could not possibly be her husband, made so much disturbance as to wake the good man; who finding somebody had got into his place without his leave, began to lay about him unmercifully; and ’twas thought, that had not our poor mistaken gallant, called out manfully for help (as if he were commanding assistance in the king’s name) and thereby raised the family, he would have stood no more chance for his life between the wife and husband, than a captive L——between two thumb nails.

  THE PENNSYLVANIA GAZETTE, JULY 29, 1731

  We are credibly informed, that the young woman who not long since petitioned the governor, and the assembly to be divorced from her husband, and at times industriously solicited most of the magistrates on that account, has at last concluded to cohabit with him again. It is said the report of the physicians (who in form examined his abilities, and allowed him to be in every respect sufficient,) gave her but small satisfaction; whether any experiments more satisfactory have been tried, we cannot say; but it seems she now declares it as her opinion, that George is as good as de best.

  Anthony Afterwit on Marriage

  Before he had entered into a union with Deborah, Franklin had courted a woman from a wealthier family. Dowries being common for such matches, Franklin sought to negotiate one of approximately £100. When the girl’s family replied that they could not spare that much, Franklin suggested rather unromantically that they could mortgage their home. The girl’s family broke off the relationship, either out of outrage or (as Franklin suspected) in the hope that the courtship had gone so far that they would elope without a dowry. Resentful, Franklin refused to have anything more to do with the girl.

  Franklin satirized the process in the Gazette a few years later, after he had married Deborah without a dowry, using the pseudonym Anthony Afterwit. The piece also returned to his theme of the virtue of frugality. Afterwit, after complaining about having to elope with no dowry, goes on to ridicule his wife for adopting the airs and spending habits of a gentlewoman, including her desire for a tea set.

  The Anthony Afterwit essay had an interesting side effect. His fictional wife, Abigail Afterwit, was the name of a character that had been created by Franklin’s brother James almost a decade earlier in the New-England Courant. James, who had since moved to Rhode Island, reprinted the Anthony Afterwit piece in his own paper along with a reply from a Patience Teacraft. Benjamin in turn reprinted the reply in his Philadelphia paper, and the following year he visited his brother for an emotional reconciliation.

  THE PENNSYLVANIA GAZETTE, JULY 10, 1732

  Mr. Gazetteer,

  I am an honest tradesman, who never meant harm to any body. 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 £200 on the day of marriage. ’Tis true he never said so to me, 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 £200 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 foresaw) 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 in quite 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 furnished, for an ordinary man, before. No thanks to dad, who I understand was very much pleased with his politick management. And I have since learned that there are 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 neighbors: but my wife had a strong inclination to be a gentlewoman. In consequence of this, my old-fashioned looking-glass was one day broke, as she said, no mortal could tell which way. However, since we could not be without a glass in the room, my dear, says 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 be 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, 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 into the garret, and every thing below altered for the better.

  Had we stopped here, we might have done well enough; but my wife being entertained with tea by the good women she visited, we could do no less than the like when they visited us; and so we got a tea-table 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 frequent
ly, that when I came home at one, the dinner was but just put in the pot; for, 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 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 frequently 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 £20 and hereabouts affairs have stood for some months past.

  I could see all along, that this way of living was utterly inconsistent 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. In the interim, I have taken my turn to make alterations, viz. I have turned away the maid, bag and baggage (for what should we do with a maid, who have (except my boy) none but our selves). I have sold the fine pacing mare, and bought a good milk cow, with £3 of the money. I have disposed of the tea-table, and put a 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 a truth, which I would have go no farther, I begin to want stockings. The stately clock I have transformed into an hour-glass, by which I 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 I am mightily pleased when I look at my hour-glass, what an ornament it is to the room. I have paid my debts, and find money in my pocket. I expect my dame home next Friday, and as your paper is taken in 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 to this new scheme 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 do 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

  Postscript, You know we can return to our former way of living, when we please, if Dad will be at the expense of it.

  Celia Single Responds

  Less sexist than most men of his day, Franklin also aimed his barbs at men. Afterwit’s letter was answered two weeks later by one from Celia Single. With the delightful gossipy voice of Franklin’s other female characters, such as Silence Dogood, Single recounts a visit to a friend whose husband is trying to replicate Afterwit’s approach. A raucous argument ensues.

  THE PENNSYLVANIA GAZETTE, JULY 24, 1732

  My Correspondent Mrs. Celia, must excuse my omitting those circumstances of her letter, which point at people too plainly; and content herself that I insert the rest as follows.

  Mr. Gazetteer,

  I must needs tell you, that some of the things you print do more harm than good; particularly I think so of my neighbor the tradesman’s letter in one of your late papers, which has broken the peace of several families, by causing difference between men and their wives: I shall give you here one instance, of which I was an eye and ear witness.

  Happening last Wednesday morning to be in at Mrs. C———ss’s, when her husband returned from market, among other things which he had bought, he showed her some balls of thread. My dear, says he, I like mightily those stockings which I yesterday saw neighbor Afterwit knitting for her husband, of thread of her own spinning: I should be glad to have some such stockings my self: I understand that your maid Mary is a very good knitter, and seeing this thread in market, I have bought it, that the girl may make a pair or two for me. Mrs. Careless was just then at the glass, dressing her head; and turning about with the pins in her mouth, lord, child, says she, are you crazy? What time has Mary to knit? Who must do the work, I wonder, if you set her to knitting? Perhaps, my dear, says he, you have a mind to knit ’em yourself; I remember, when I courted you, I once heard you say you had learned to knit of your mother. I knit stockings for you, says she, not I truly; there are poor women enough in town, that can knit; if you please you may employ them. Well, but my dear, says he, you know a penny saved is a penny got, a pin a day is a groat a year, every little makes a nickel, and there is neither sin nor shame in knitting a pair of stockings; why should you express such a mighty aversion to it? As to poor women, you know we are not people of quality, we have no income to maintain us, but what arises from my labor and industry; methinks you should not be at all displeased, if you have an opportunity to get something as well as my self. I wonder, says she, how you can propose such a thing to me; did not you always tell me you would maintain me like a gentlewoman? If I had married Capt.———, he would have scorned even to mention knitting of stockings. Prithee, says he, (a little nettled) what do you tell me of your captains? If you could have had him, I suppose you would; or perhaps you did not very well like him: if I did promise to maintain you like a gentlewoman, I suppose ’tis time enough for that when you know how to behave like one; mean while ’tis your duty to help make me able. How long do you think I can maintain you at your present rate of living? Pray, says she, (somewhat fiercely, and dashing the puff into the powder-box) don’t use me after this manner, for I assure you I won’t bear it. This is the fruit of your poison newspapers; there shall come no more here, I promise you. Bless us, says he, what an unaccountable thing is this! Must a tradesman’s daughter, and the wife of a tradesman, necessarily and instantly be a gentlewoman? You had no portion; I am forced to work for a living; if you are too great to do the like, there’s the door, go and live upon your estate, if you can find it; in short, I don’t desire to be troubled—what answer she made, I cannot tell; for knowing that a man and his wife are apt to quarrel more violently when before strangers, than when by themselves, I got up and went out hastily: but I understood from Mary, who came to me of an errand in the evening, that they dined together pretty peaceably, (the balls of thread that had caused the difference, being thrown into the kitchen fire) of which I was very glad to hear.

  I have several times in your paper seen severe reflections upon us women, for idleness and extravagance, but I do not remember to have once seen any such animadversions upon the men. If I were disposed to be censorious, I could furnish you with instances enough: I might mention Mr. Billiard, who spends more than he earns, at the green table; and would have been in jail long since, were it not for his industrious wife: Mr. Husselcap, who often all day long leaves his business for the rattling of halfpence in a certain alley: Mr. Finikin, who has seven different suits of fine clothes, and wears a change every day, while his wife and children sit at home half naked: Mr. Crownhim, who is always dreaming over the checker-board, and cares not how the world goes, so he gets the game: Mr. T’otherpot the tavern-haunter; Mr. Bookish, the everlasting reader; Mr. Tweedledum, Mr. Toot-a-toot, and several others, who are mighty diligent at any thing beside their business. I say, if I were disposed to be censorious, I might mention all these, and more; but I hate to be thought a scandalizer of my neighbors, and therefore forbear. And for your part, I would advise you, for the future, to entertain your readers with something else besides people’s reflections upon one another; for remember, that there are hole
s enough to be picked in your coat as well as others; and those that are affronted by the satyrs you may publish, will not consider so much who wrote, as who printed: take not this freedom amiss, from,

  Your Friend and Reader,

  Celia Single

  In Praise of Gossip

  In his first Busy-Body essay, Franklin had defended the value of nosiness and tattling. Now that he had his own paper, he made it clear that the Gazette was pleased, indeed proud, to continue this service. Using the same tone as the Busy-Body, Franklin wrote an anonymous essay defending gossip and followed it the next week by a fake letter from the aptly named Alice Addertongue urging his paper to print more gossip. Franklin, who was then 26, had Alice identify herself, with an edge of irony, as a “young girl of about thirty-five.”

  THE PENNSYLVANIA GAZETTE, SEPTEMBER 7, 1732

  Impia sub dulci melle venena latent.

  —Ovid

  Naturam expellas furca licet, usq; recurret.

  —Horace

  There is scarce any one thing so generally spoke against, and at the same time so universally practiced, as censure or backbiting. All divines have condemned it, all religions have forbid it, all writers of morality have endeavor’s to discountenance it, and all men hate it at all times, except only when they have occasion to make use of it. For my part, after having frankly declared it as my opinion, that the general condemnation it meets with, proceeds only from a consciousness in most people that they have highly incurred and deserved it, I shall in a very fearless impudent manner take upon me to oppose the universal vogue of mankind in all ages, and say as much in behalf and vindication of this decried virtue, as the usual vacancy in your paper will admit.