From the Writings of Benjamin Franklin in the Pennsylvania Gazette

Death of a Lion

Boston, Jan. 3. Last Saturday Night, The LYON, King of Beasts, who had travelled all over North America by Sea and Land, died here in a Tan-yard. Like other Kings, his Death was often reported, long before it happened.

The Pennsylvania Gazette, January 25, 1731/2

A Burnt-Offering

We hear from the Jersey side, that a Man near Sahaukan being disordred in his Senses, protested to his Wife that he would kill her immediately, if she did not put her Tongue into his Mouth: She through Fear complying, he bit off a large Piece of it; and taking it between his Fingers threw it into the Fire with these Words, Let this be for a Burnt-Offering.

The Pennsylvania Gazette, February 15, 1731/2

Lost Money

Lost last Saturday Night, in Market Street, about 40 or 50 s. if the Finder will bring it to the Printer hereof, who will describe the Marks, he shall have 10 s. Reward.

The Pennsylvania Gazette, March 30, 1732

On Simplicity

There is in Humane Nature a certain charming Quality, innate and original to it, which is called SIMPLICITY. In latter Ages, this has been almost universally exploded, and banished from amongst Men, as the Characteristic of Folly; whilst Cunning and Artifice have prevailed in its stead, and with equal Justice been dignified with the Titles of Wisdom and Understanding. But I believe the juster Account of the Matter is, that Simplicity is the homespun Dress of Honesty, and Chicanery and Craft are the Tinsel Habits and the false Elegance which are worn to cover the Deformity of Vice and Knavery.

In the first Ages of the World, when Men had no Wants but what were purely natural, before they had refin'd upon their Necessities, and Luxury and Ambition had introduced a Thousand fantastick Forms of Happiness, Simplicity was the Dress and Language of the World, as Nature was its Law. The little Cunning which was then in use, only taught them to ensnare, or to make tame such Animals as were necessary to their Support or their Convenience, and were otherwise too swift or too strong for them; but since these Arts have attain'd their utmost Perfection, Men have practised the same low Stratagems upon one another, and by an infinite Variety of Disguises and well-covered Treacheries, have long since instituted those little Basenesses among the necessary Arts and Knowledges of Life, and practised without Scruple, that which they have long owned without Shame.

But if we look into the History of the World, and into the Characters of those who have had the greatest Names in it, we shall find, that this original Simplicity of Mind has gradually been worn off in every Age, down to the present Time, when there is hardly any Characters of it remaining undefaced. The old Greeks and Romans, whose unperishable Writings have preserved to us the Actions and Manners of their Countrymen, and who were so well studied in all the Forms and reasonable Happinesses of Life, are so full of that just and beautiful Stile and Sentiment, as seems to have been the only proper Method of transcribing the frank and open Characters of the Heroes they celebrate, and of making them and their Writers immortal.

To prove the natural Charm and Beauty there is in this Simplicity, we need only, at this Day, as false as the World is grown, retire but far enough from great Cities, the Scenes of all worldly Business and Action; and, I believe, the most cunning Man will be obliged to own, the high and sincere Pleasure there is in conversing from the Heart, and without Design. What Relief do we find in the simple and unaffected Dialogues of uncorrupted Peasants, after the tiresome Grimace of the Town! The veriest Double-Dealer in the World is ever hankering after an Opportunity to open his own Heart, tho' perhaps he curses himself after he has done it. We are all forward enough to protest and complain against the Falshood and Treachery of Mankind, tho' the Remedy be always in our own Power, and each is at Liberty to reform himself.

But perhaps we need not be forced always to go into the Country in search of this amiable Complexion of Mind, Simplicity; for I believe it will be found sometimes, that the Men of the truest Genius and highest Characters in the Conduct of the World, (as few of them as rise in any Age) are observed to possess this Quality in the highest Degree. They are Pretenders only, to Policy and Business, who have recourse to Cunning, and the little Chicaneries thereof: for Cunning is but the Ape of Wisdom, as Sheepishness is of Modesty, Impudence of Courage, and Pedantry of Learning. -- Cunning, says my Lord Bacon, is a sinister or crooked Wisdom, and Dissimulation but a faint kind of Policy; for it asks a strong Wit and a strong Heart, to know when to tell Truth and to do it; therefore they are the weaker sort of Politicians, that are the greatest Dissemblers. And certainly there is a great Difference between a cunning Man and a wise One, not only in point of Honesty but in point of Ability; as there are those that can pack the Cards, who cannot play the Game well.

Cunning is a Vice purely personal, and is with the greatest Difficulty practised in free and mixed Assemblies. A cunning Man is obliged to hunt his Game alone, and to live in the dark; he is uncapable of Counsel and Advice, for his dishonest Purpose dies upon Discovery. A vertuous and an honourable Action only, will bear a Conference and Freedom of Debate. And this is the Part of true Wisdom, to be busy and assistant in a fair and worthy Design. None but Fools are Knaves, for wise Men cannot help being honest. Cunning therefore is the Wisdom of a Fool; one who has Designs that he dare not own.

To draw these loose Thoughts towards an End. If Cunning were any real Excellence in Human Nature, how comes it that the greatest and ablest, the most amiable and worthy of Mankind, are often entirely without it, and vastly above it; while Numbers of the weaker Part are observed to be very expert therein; sordid and ignorant Servants, and dishonest idle Vagabonds, often attain to the highest Perfection in it. Simplicity we are sure is natural, and the highest Beauty of Nature; and all that is excellent in Arts which Men have invented, is either to demonstrate this native Simplicity and Truth in Nature, or to teach us to transcribe and copy in every Thing from it. Simplicity of Speech and Manners is the highest Happiness as well as the greatest Ornament of Life; whereas nothing is so tiresome to one's self, as well as so odious to others, as Disguise and Affectation. Who was ever cunning enough to conceal his being so? No Mask ever hid it self. In a Word, those cunning Men, tho' they are not declared Enemies to the World, yet they are really Spies upon it, and ought in the Justice of Things to be considered and treated as such, whenever they are caught. And to what purpose is all this Craft? To make themselves suspected and avoided by the World in return, and to have never a Friend in it. A Knave cannot have a Friend, any more than he can be one: An honest Man must discover him, a Rascal will betray him. And by this Time I hope my Reader and I are agreed, that Wisdom and Vertue are the same Thing, as Knavery and Cunning are generally so too; and that for the future, we shall resolve to be what we would seem, which is the only sure way not to be afraid to seem what we really are.

Perhaps it is not necessary to add here, that by Simplicity is not at all meant the Pretences to it, which are made now a-days, by many good People, who I believe very honestly mistake the Thing, and while they aim at Simplicity are guilty of very gross Affectation. The Plainness and Integrity of Mind, which is here recommended, is very little concerned in any Quaintness of Habit, or Oddness of Behaviour: Nor is it at all of Importance to Vertue and Simplicity, that great care is taken to appear unfashionable. Again, on the other side, I know very well that the Word Cunning did in the ancient Sense of it imply Knowledge. The Word Ken may perhaps be akin to it; it is of Saxon Original, and we are told the Word King is derived from it. I have no Quarrel to this Construction of it; but only against (what it now comes to signify) the little Subtilty of base Minds, who are incapable of great and honest Actions; in which Sense the Word is now commonly used.

After all, I am sensible this crooked Wisdom has established itself by the Force of an unhappy Fashion, too firmly to be immediately exploded; and though I could wish my Reader would be ashamed to live in the World by such a wretched Method, yet I would warn him to be well aware of those that do; and to be sure to arm against them, not with the same Weapons, but those which are of much better Proof, the Integrity of a wise Man, and the Wisdom of an honest one.

The Pennsylvania Gazette, April 13, 1732

"To melt the Pewter Button"

From New-York, we hear, that on Saturday se'nnight, in the Afternoon, they had there most terrible Thunder and Lightning, but no great Damage done. The same Day we had some very hard Claps in these Parts; and 'tis said, that in Bucks County, one Flash came so near a Lad, as, without hurting him, to melt the Pewter Button off the Wasteband of his Breeches. 'Tis well nothing else thereabouts, was made of Pewter.

The Pennsylvania Gazette, June 19, 1732

Anthony Afterwit

Mr. Gazetteer, I am an honest Tradesman, who never meant Harm to any Body. My Affairs went on smoothly while a Batchelor; 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 address'd my present Spouse, her Father gave out in Speeches, that if she married a Man he liked, he would give with her 200 l. on the Day of Marriage. 'Tis true he never said so to me, but he always receiv'd me very kindly at his House, and openly countenanc'd my Courtship. I form'd several fine Schemes, what to do with this same 200 l. 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 engag'd, 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 describ'd 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 learn'd 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 Neighbours: 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 sutable to such a Glass. And a more proper Table being procur'd, my Spouse, who was an excellent Contriver, inform'd me where we might have very handsome Chairs in the Way; And thus, by Degrees, I found all my old Furniture stow'd up into the Garret, and every thing below alter'd for the better.

Had we stopp'd here, we might have done well enough; but my Wife being entertain'd 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 overwork'd 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; 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 observ'd, 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 l. 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 mention'd 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 turn'd 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 Milch Cow, with 3 l. of the Money. I have dispos'd of the Tea-Table, and put a Spinning Wheel in its Place, which methinks looks very pretty: Nine empty Canisters I have stuff'd 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 transform'd into an Hour-Glass, by which I gain'd a good round Sum; and one of the Pieces of the old Looking-Glass, squar'd and fram'd, supplies the Place of the Great One, which I have convey'd 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 surprizing 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 reserv'd 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 Headach, the Stomach-ach, 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 Expence of it.

The Pennsylvania Gazette, July 10, 1732

Celia Single

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 Neighbour 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 return'd from Market, among other Things which he had bought, he show'd her some Balls of Thread. My Dear, says he, I like mightily those Stockings which I yesterday saw Neighbour Afterwit knitting for her Husband, of Thread of her own Spinning: I should be glad to have some such Stockins 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 learn'd to knit of your Mother. I knit Stockins 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 sav'd is a penny got, a pin a day is a groat a year, every little makes a mickle, and there is neither Sin nor Shame in Knitting a pair of Stockins; 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 Labour and Industry; methinks you should not be at all displeas'd, 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 scorn'd even to mention Knitting of Stockins. 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 d'ye 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 News-papers; 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 forc'd 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 w'ye. -- 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 dispos'd 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 Cloaths, and wears a Change every Day, while his Wife and Children sit at home half naked: Mr. Crownhim, who is always dreaming over the Chequer-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 dispos'd to be censorious, I might mention all these, and more; but I hate to be thought a Scandalizer of my Neighbours, 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 Holes enough to be pick'd 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.

The Pennsylvania Gazette, July 24, 1732

Praise for William Penn

Philadelphia, August 12. Yesterday Afternoon, our Governor having received by Express the agreeable News of the Arrival of the Honourable THOMAS PENN, Esq; our Proprietary, at Chester, immediately dispatch'd his Secretary thither with his Compliments of Congratulation; and next Morning, attended by the Council, and many other Gentlemen, His Honour our Governor set out for Chester, where great Numbers of People from the neighbouring Parts of the Country were flocking together. After Dinner, our Honourable Proprietor, with his Company which was now grown very numerous, set out for Philadelphia, and passing the Ferry at Skuylkill, was met by the Mayor, Recorder and Aldermen of this City, in whose Name Andrew Hamilton, Esq; the Recorder, made the following congratulatory Speech.

May it please our Honourable Proprietor,

The Mayor and Commonalty of the city of Philadelphia, do most joyfully congratulate You, on your safe Arrival into your Province of Pennsylvania.

You are now entring into the Liberties of the City of Philadelphia, the Capital of your Province, where You have been long and impatiently expected: Be pleased, Sir, to accept from this Corporation, the Acknowledgements due to a Son of its Honourable Founder.

That generous Charter which he gave this City, those wise and just Laws which he gave to the People of Pennsylvania, and above all his religious Care in securing to all its Inhabitants that natural Right Liberty of Conscience, and Freedom from Spiritual Tyranny, will ever continue a Testimony of his great Wisdom and Goodness, in framing a Constitution every way fitted to make a happy People, and be a lasting Monument of his Benevolence to Mankind.

But he is gone! -- and to whom can we so properly own these Obligations, as to the Descendants of that good Man, under whom, next to our gracious Sovereign, the Inhabitants of Philadelphia derive and enjoy so many valuable Privileges.

We are indeed strongly prejudiced in favour of a Son of the great Mr. PENN; We know you have the same Powers of Government, and if You shall imitate his excellent Example, in using them for the Good of the People, as that made his Memory dear to all who lived under his Influence, so this will give you a peculiar Claim to Our Duty and Affections, and lay the Citizens of Philadelphia under the strongest Obligations of doing you the most acceptable Services in their Power.

To which our Honourable Proprietor gave the following Answer.

"I am oblig'd to the City of Philadelphia, for this Mark of their Affection to me, and Regard for the Memory of my Father; and shall be pleased with every Opportunity of doing your Corporation any agreeable Service."

The Proprietor then proceeding forwards, was welcomed to this City with the Discharge of many Guns from the Ships in our River, and the joyful Acclamations of a Multitude of People, who lined all the Streets through which the Cavalcade (consisting of between Seven and Eight Hundred Horse) passed; and alighting at our Governour's House, was saluted with the Discharge of a large Battery of Cannon on Society Hill. The universal Joy and Satisfaction which appeared on this Occasion, seems a just Tribute to a worthy Son of the Great and Good Mr. PENN, whose Memory must ever remain dear to all those who set a just Value on the ample Privileges and Liberties granted by him, and at this Time fully enjoyed by all the Inhabitants of this flourishing Colony.

The Pennsylvania Gazette, August 14, 1732

On Censure or Backbiting

Impia sub dulci melle venena latent.
Ovid.

Naturam expellas furca licet, usq; recurret.
Hor.

There is scarce any one Thing so generally spoke against, and at the same time so universally practis'd, as Censure or Backbiting. All Divines have condemn'd it, all Religions have forbid it, all Writers of Morality have endeavour'd 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 declar'd it as my Opinion, that the general Condemnation it meets with, proceeds only from a Consciousness in most People that they have highly incurr'd and deserv'd 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 decry'd Virtue, as the usual Vacancy in your Paper will admit.

I have call'd it a Virtue, and shall take the same Method to prove it such, as we commonly use to demonstrate any other Action or Habit to be a Virtue, that is, by shewing its Usefulness, and the great Good it does to Society. What can be said to the contrary, has already been said by every body; and indeed it is so little to the purpose, that any body may easily say it: But the Path I mean to tread, has hitherto been trod by no body; if therefore I should meet with the Difficulties usual in tracing new Roads, and be in some Places a little at loss, the Candour of the Reader will the more readily excuse me.

The first Advantage I shall mention, arising from the free Practice of Censure or Backbiting, is, that it is frequently the Means of preventing powerful, politick, ill-designing Men, from growing too popular for the Safety of a State. Such Men are always setting their best Actions to view, in order to obtain Confidence and Trust, and establish a Party: They endeavour to shine with false or borrow'd Merit, and carefully conceal their real Demerit: (that they fear to be evil spoken of is evident from their striving to cover every Ill with a specious Pretence;) But all-examining CENSURE, with her hundred Eyes and her thousand Tongues, soon discovers and as speedily divulges in all Quarters, every the least Crime or Foible that is a part of their true Character. This clips the Wings of their Ambition, weakens their Cause and Party, and reduces them to the necessity of dropping their pernicious Designs, springing from a violent Thirst of Honour and Power; or, if that Thirst is unquenchable, they are oblig'd to enter into a Course of true Virtue, without which real Grandeur is not to be attained.

Again, the common Practice of Censure is a mighty Restraint upon the Actions of every private Man; it greatly assists our otherwise weak Resolutions of living virtuously. What will the World say of me, if I act thus? is often a Reflection strong enough to enable us to resist the most powerful Temptation to Vice or Folly. This preserves the Integrity of the Wavering, the Honesty of the Covetous, the Sanctity of some of the Religious, and the Chastity of all Virgins. And, indeed, when People once become regardless of Censure, they are arrived to a Pitch of Impudence little inferior to the Contempt of all Laws humane and divine.

The common Practice of Censure is also exceedingly serviceable, in helping a Man to the Knowledge of himself; a piece of Knowledge highly necessary for all, but acquired by very few, because very few sufficiently regard and value the Censure past by others on their Actions. There is hardly such a Thing as a Friend, sincere or rash enough to acquaint us freely with our Faults; nor will any but an Enemy tell us of what we have done amiss, to our Faces; and Enemies meet with little Credit in such Cases, for we believe they speak from Malice and Ill-will: Thus we might always live in the blindest Ignorance of our own Folly, and, while every body reproach'd us in their Hearts, might think our Conduct irreproachable: But Thanks be to Providence, (that has given every Man a natural Inclination to backbite his Neighbour) we now hear of many Things said of us, that we shall never hear said to us; (for out of Goodwill to us, or Illwill to those that have spoken ill of us, every one is willing enough to tell us how we are censur'd by others,) and we have the Advantage of mending our Manners accordingly.

Another vast Benefit arising from the common Practice of Backbiting, is, that it helps exceedingly to a thorough Knowledge of Mankind, a Science the most useful of all Sciences. Could we come to know no Man of whom we had not a particular Experience, our Sphere of Knowledge of this Sort would certainly be narrow and confined, and yet at the same Time must probably have cost us very dear. For the crafty tricking Villain would have a vast Advantage over the honest undesigning Part of Men, when he might cheat and abuse almost every one he dealt with, if none would take the Liberty to characterize him among their Acquaintance behind his Back.

Without saying any more in its Behalf, I am able to challenge all the Orators or Writers in the World, to show (with solid Reason) that the few trifling Inconveniencies attending it, bear any Proportion to these vast Benefits! And I will venture to assert to their Noses, that nothing would be more absurd or pernicious than a Law against Backbiting, if such a Law could possibly take Effect; since it would undoubtedly be the greatest Encouragement to Vice that ever Vice met with, and do more towards the encreasing it, than would the Abolishing of all other Laws whatsoever.

I might likewise have mentioned the Usefulness of Censure in Society, as it is a certain and an equal Punishment for such Follies and Vices as the common Laws either do not sufficiently punish, or have provided no Punishment for. I might have observed, that were it not for this, we should find the Number of some Sorts of Criminals increased to a Degree sufficient not only to infest, but even to overthrow all good and civil Conversation: But it is endless to enumerate every particular Advantage arising from this glorious Virtue! A Virtue, which whoever exerts, must have the largest Share of Publick Spirit and Self-denial, the highest Benevolence and Regard to the Good of others; since in This he entirely sacrifices his own Interest, making not only the Persons he accuses, but all that hear him, his Enemies; for all that deserve Censure (which are by far the greatest Number) hate the Censorious;

That dangerous Weapon, Wit,
Frightens a Million when a few you hit:
Whip but a Cur as you ride thro' a Town,
And strait his Fellow Curs the Quarrel own:
Each Knave or Fool that's conscious of a Crime,
Tho' he scapes now, looks for't another time.

A Virtue! decry'd by all that fear it, but a strong Presumption of the Innocence of them that practise it; for they cannot be encouraged to offend, from the least Prospect of Favour or Impunity; their Faults or Failings will certainly meet with no Quarter from others. And whoever practises the Contrary, always endeavouring to excuse and palliate the Crimes of others, may rationally be suspected to have some secret darling Vice, which he hopes will be excused him in return. A Virtue! which however ill People may load it with the opprobrious Names of Calumny, Scandal, and Detraction, and I know not what; will still remain a Virtue, a bright, shining, solid Virtue, of more real Use to Mankind than all the other Virtues put together; and indeed, is the Mother or the Protectress of them all, as well as the Enemy, the Destructress of all kinds of Vice. A Virtue, innately, necessarily, and essentially so; for ------ But, dear Reader, large Folio Volumes closely written, would scarce be sufficient to contain all the Praises due to it. I shall offer you at present only one more convincing Argument in its Behalf, viz. that you would not have had the Satisfaction of seeing this Discourse so agreeably short as I shall make it, were it not for the just Fear I have of incurring your Censure, should I continue to be troublesome by extending it to a greater Length.

The Pennsylvania Gazette, September 7, 1732

Alice Addertongue

Mr. Gazetteer,

I was highly pleased with your last Week's Paper upon SCANDAL, as the uncommon Doctrine therein preach'd is agreeable both to my Principles and Practice, and as it was published very seasonably to reprove the Impertinence of a Writer in the foregoing Thursdays Mercury, who at the Conclusion of one of his silly Paragraphs, laments, forsooth, that the Fair Sex are so peculiarly guilty of this enormous Crime: Every Blockhead ancient and modern, that could handle a Pen, has I think taken upon him to cant in the same senseless Strain. If to scandalize be really a Crime, what do these Puppies mean? They describe it, they dress it up in the most odious frightful and detestable Colours, they represent it as the worst of Crimes, and then roundly and charitably charge the whole Race of Womankind with it. Are they not then guilty of what they condemn, at the same time that they condemn it? If they accuse us of any other Crime, they must necessarily scandalize while they do it: But to scandalize us with being guilty of Scandal, is in itself an egregious Absurdity, and can proceed from nothing but the most consummate Impudence in Conjunction with the most profound Stupidity.

This, supposing, as they do, that to scandalize is a Crime; which you have convinc'd all reasonable People, is an Opinion absolutely erroneous. Let us leave then these Ideot Mock-Moralists, while I entertain you with some Account of my Life and Manners.

I am a young Girl of about thirty-five, and live at present with my Mother. I have no Care upon my Head of getting a Living, and therefore find it my Duty as well as Inclination, to exercise my Talent at CENSURE, for the Good of my Country folks. There was, I am told, a certain generous Emperor, who if a Day had passed over his Head, in which he had conferred no Benefit on any Man, used to say to his Friends, in Latin, Diem perdidi, that is, it seems, I have lost a Day. I believe I should make use of the same Expression, if it were possible for a Day to pass in which I had not, or miss'd, an Opportunity to scandalize somebody: But, Thanks be praised, no such Misfortune has befel me these dozen Years.

Yet, whatever Good I may do, I cannot pretend that I first entred into the Practice of this Virtue from a Principle of Publick Spirit; for I remember that when a Child, I had a violent Inclination to be ever talking in my own Praise, and being continually told that it was ill Manners, and once severely whipt for it, the confin'd Stream form'd itself a new Channel, and I began to speak for the future in the Dispraise of others. This I found more agreable to Company, and almost as much so to my self: For what great Difference can there be, between putting your self up, or putting your Neighbour down? Scandal, like other Virtues, is in part its own Reward, as it gives us the Satisfaction of making our selves appear better than others, or others no better than ourselves.

My Mother, good Woman, and I, have heretofore differ'd upon this Account. She argu'd that Scandal spoilt all good Conversation, and I insisted that without it there could be no such Thing. Our Disputes once rose so high, that we parted Tea-Table, and I concluded to entertain my Acquaintance in the Kitchin. The first Day of this Separation we both drank Tea at the same Time, but she with her Visitors in the Parlor. She would not hear of the least Objection to any one's Character, but began a new sort of Discourse in some such queer philosophical Manner as this; I am mightily pleas'd sometimes, says she, when I observe and consider that the World is not so bad as People out of humour imagine it to be. There is something amiable, some good Quality or other in every body. If we were only to speak of People that are least respected, there is such a one is very dutiful to her Father, and methinks has a fine Set of Teeth; such a one is very respectful to her Husband; such a one is very kind to her poor Neighbours, and besides has a very handsome Shape; such a one is always ready to serve a Friend, and in my Opinion there is not a Woman in Town that has a more agreeable Air and Gait. This fine kind of Talk, which lasted near half an Hour, she concluded by saying, I do not doubt but every one of you have made the like Observations, and I should be glad to have the Conversation continu'd upon this Subject. Just at that Juncture I peep'd in at the Door, and never in my Life before saw such a Set of simple vacant Countenances; they looked somehow neither glad, nor sorry, nor angry, nor pleas'd, nor indifferent, nor attentive; but, (excuse the Simile) like so many blue wooden Images of Rie Doe. I in the Kitchin had already begun a ridiculous Story of Mr. ------ 's Intrigue with his Maid, and his Wife's Behaviour upon the Discovery; at some Passages we laugh'd heartily, and one of the gravest of Mama's Company, without making any Answer to her Discourse, got up to go and see what the Girls were so merry about: She was follow'd by a Second, and shortly after by a Third, till at last the old Gentlewoman found herself quite alone, and being convinc'd that her Project was impracticable, came her self and finish'd her Tea with us; ever since which Saul also has been among the Prophets, and our Disputes lie dormant.

By Industry and Application, I have made my self the Center of all the Scandal in the Province, there is little stirring but I hear of it. I began the World with this Maxim, That no Trade can subsist without Returns; and accordingly, whenever I receiv'd a good Story, I endeavour'd to give two or a better in the Room of it. My Punctuality in this Way of Dealing gave such Encouragement, that it has procur'd me an incredible deal of Business, which without Diligence and good Method it would be impossible for me to go through. For besides the Stock of Defamation thus naturally flowing in upon me, I practice an Art by which I can pump Scandal out of People that are the least enclin'd that way. Shall I discover my Secret? Yes; to let it die with me would be inhuman. -- If I have never heard Ill of some Person, I always impute it to defective Intelligence; for there are none without their Faults, no not one. If she is a Woman, I take the first Opportunity to let all her Acquaintance know I have heard that one of the handsomest or best Men in Town has said something in Praise either of her Beauty, her Wit, her Virtue, or her good Management. If you know any thing of Humane Nature, you perceive that this naturally introduces a Conversation turning upon all her Failings, past, present, and to come. To the same purpose, and with the same Success, I cause every Man of Reputation to be praised before his Competitors in Love, Business, or Esteem on Account of any particular Qualification. Near the Times of Election, if I find it necessary, I commend every Candidate before some of the opposite Party, listning attentively to what is said of him in answer: (But Commendations in this latter Case are not always necessary, and should be used judiciously;) of late Years I needed only observe what they said of one another freely; and having for the Help of Memory taken Account of all Information & Accusations received, whoever peruses my Writings after my Death, may happen to think, that during a certain Term, the People of Pennsylvania chose into all their Offices of Honour and Trust, the veriest Knaves, Fools and Rascals in the whole Province. The Time of Election used to be a busy Time with me, but this Year, with Concern I speak it, People are grown so good natur'd, so intent upon mutual Feasting and friendly Entertainment, that I see no Prospect of much Employment from that Quarter.

I mention'd above, that without good Method I could not go thro' my Business: In my Father's Life-time I had some Instruction in Accompts, which I now apply with Advantage to my own Affairs. I keep a regular Set of Books, and can tell at an Hour's Warning how it stands between me and the World. In my Daybook I enter every Article of Defamation as it is transacted; for Scandals receiv'd in, I give Credit; and when I pay them out again, I make the Persons to whom they respectively relate Debtor. In my Journal, I add to each Story by Way of Improvement, such probable Circumstances as I think it will bear, and in my Ledger the whole is regularly posted.

I suppose the Reader already condemns me in his Heart, for this particular of adding Circumstances; but I justify that part of my Practice thus. 'Tis a Principle with me, that none ought to have a greater Share of Reputation than they really deserve; if they have, 'tis an Imposition upon the Publick: I know it is every one's Interest, and therefore believe they endeavour, to conceal all their Vices and Follies; and I hold, that those People are extraordinary foolish or careless who suffer a Fourth of their Failings to come to publick Knowledge: Taking then the common Prudence and Imprudence of Mankind in a Lump, I suppose none suffer above one Fifth to be discovered: Therefore when I hear of any Person's Misdoing, I think I keep within Bounds if in relating it I only make it three times worse than it is; and I reserve to my self the Privilege of charging them with one Fault in four, which, for aught I know, they may be entirely innocent of. You see there are but few so careful of doing Justice as my self; what Reason then have Mankind to complain of Scandal? In a general way, the worst that is said of us is only half what might be said, if all our Faults were seen.

But alas, two great Evils have lately befaln me at the same time; an extream Cold that I can scarce speak, and a most terrible Toothach that I dare hardly open my Mouth: For some Days past I have receiv'd ten Stories for one I have paid; and I am not able to ballance my Accounts without your Assistance. I have long thought that if you would make your Paper a Vehicle of Scandal, you would double the Number of your Subscribers. I send you herewith Account of 4 Knavish Tricks, 2 crackt M--n--ds, 5 Cu--ld--ms, 3 drub'd Wives, and 4 Henpeck'd Husbands, all within this Fortnight; which you may, as Articles of News, deliver to the Publick; and if my Toothach continues, shall send you more; being, in the mean time,

Your constant Reader,
ALICE ADDERTONGUE.

I thank my Correspondent Mrs. Addertongue for her Good-Will; but desire to be excus'd inserting the Articles of News she has sent me; such Things being in Reality no News at all.

The Pennsylvania Gazette, September 12, 1732

Men are Naturally Benevolent as Well as Selfish

To the Printer of the GAZETTE.

SIR,

It is the Opinion of some People, that Man is a Creature altogether selfish, and that all our Actions have at Bottom a View to private Interest; If we do good to others, it is, say they, because there is a certain Pleasure attending virtuous Actions. But how Pleasure comes to attend a virtuous Action, these Philosophers are puzzled to shew, without contradicting their first Principles, and acknowledging that Men are naturally benevolent as well as selfish. For whence can arise the Pleasure you feel after having done a good-natured Thing, if not hence, that you had before strong humane and kind Inclinations in your Nature, which are by such Actions in some Measure gratified?

I am told that a late ingenious Author, enquiring why we approve and disapprove of Actions done many Ages since, which can no way be suppos'd to affect our present Interest, conceives that we have a certain internal Moral Sense, which tastes the Beauty of a rational benevolent Action, and the Deformity of an ill-natured cruel one; and that our consequent Judgment is as involuntary as when the Tongue is apply'd to Aloes, and we can by no Act of the Will prevail with the Mind to acknowledge it tastes like Honey. However this be, the Fact is certain, that we do approve and disapprove of Actions which cannot in the least influence our present Affairs. How could this happen, if we did not in contemplating such Actions, find something agreeable or disagreeable to our natural Inclinations as Men, that is, to our benevolent Inclinations?

Let this serve as an Introduction to a short Story, which I have translated from the French, for the Pleasure of your Readers, who will therein find wherewith to exercise their moral Sense of Tasting, if such a Sense they have. The Writer delivers it as a known Affair, transacted but a few Years since. It is as follows.

`A certain French Merchant, remarkable for his Honesty and Uprightness, which had procured him the Confidence of the greatest Traders in Europe, having suffered very considerable Losses at Sea, followed by the Bankrupcy of several who were deeply in his Debt, fell at length into so great Necessity, that he resolved to visit Paris in quest of Succours. He addressed himself to all his old Correspondents, acquainted them with his Misfortunes, and prayed them to help him in beginning the World again; assuring those to whom he owed any thing, that he had no greater Desire than to pay them, and that he should die contented if he might be so happy as to accomplish it. All equally affected with his Condition, promised to assist him.

`One only inexorable, to whom he owed 1000 Crowns, took him precisely in these Circumstances, and threw him into Prison, absolutely resolved there to let him rot, rather than risque longer what was his due.

`The Son of this Merchant, aged about two and twenty Years, informed of the sorrowful Situation of his Father, arrives at Paris, goes and throws himself at the Feet of the pitiless Creditor, and there dissolving in Tears, intreats him by every Thing that is most touching, to restore him his Father; protesting solemnly, that if he would not thus make himself an Obstacle to their Hopes of being re-establish'd in their Affairs, he should certainly be the first payed.

`But if this fail'd to move, he conjures him to have Pity of his Youth, and to be sensible to the Unhappiness of a Mother, charg'd with seven or eight young Children, who are reduc'd to Beggary, and perish: And in fine, if nothing was capable to touch him, at least that he would permit him to put himself in his Father's Place, who by his greater Skill in Business would probably sooner come to give him entire Satisfaction. In uttering these last Words, he so tenderly press'd his Knees in hope the Request would be granted, that this Man, so hard and inflexible, struck with the Sight of so much Virtue at his Feet, raised the young Man and embrac'd him in his Turn, with Eyes all bathed in Tears: Ah! my Son, said he, your Father shall come out. So much Love, and so much Respect for him, makes me even die with Shame. I have resisted too long; let me efface forever the Remembrance of it. I have one only Daughter, and she is worthy of you. She would do as much for me as you for your Father. I give her to you with all my Wealth, accept her; and let us run to your Father, and demand his Consent.

`This tender Scene finished through all that the purest Generosity might inspire on such Occasions, they ran to renew it at the Dungeon of the poor Prisoner. But what was his Joy and his Surprize! He saw his Son, of whose Arrival at Paris he had not known; and in the same Moment he saw him at the Top of Fortune and Happiness. The Day of Marriage was fixed, all the Creditors were payed by the Father-in-law, and the Merchant even in these so delicate Circumstances, found himself free enough to take their Receipts. In fine, they live all together, and their Union is cemented on both sides with so much cordial hearty Love, that their Happiness is perfect.'

A Friend of mine, to whom I show'd this Story in the Original, altho' his Circumstances are very near as unfortunate as those of the Merchant before the happy Change, yet could say upon reading it, That he knew not whose Happiness was most to be envy'd, his whose Affairs were so happily retriev'd, or his who had the Opportunity of giving so much Pleasure to others. I believe my benevolent Friend spoke his real Sentiments. I see Virtue in all those who were concern'd in the Story, yet I know not whether their Virtue is more worthy of Admiration than his.

I am Your Friend and Reader, Y. Z.

The Pennsylvania Gazette, November 30, 1732

Death of a Drunk

Last Monday Morning a Woman who had been long given to excessive Drinking, was found dead in a Room by her self, upon the Floor. She could not be persuaded to go to Bed the Night before, but would sit up alone, as was her frequent Custom. The Coroners Inquest ascribe her Death to the too great Quantity of Liquor she took at one Time. Her former Husband had many Times put several Sorts of odious Physick into her Drink, in order to give her an Aversion to it, but in vain; for who ever heard of a Sot reclaim'd? If there are any such they are Miracles. People cannot be too cautious of the first Steps that may lead them to be engaged in a Habit the most invincible and the most pernicious of all others.

The Pennsylvania Gazette, December 7, 1732

Counterfeits

Last Monday se'nnight in the Evening, three Men went into the Indian Prince Tavern, and having call'd for some Liquor, one of them offer'd a new Twenty Shilling Bill to be chang'd for the Reckoning; Mr. R. Brockden, Master of the House, suspecting it to be a Counterfeit, went with it immediately to A. Hamilton, Esq; (under Pretence of going out to get Change) who caused them presently to be apprehended. Upon Examination, two of them appeared innocent, and were discharged; the third, who offer'd to pass the Bill, being ask'd how he came by it, answer'd that he brought Hogs to Town to sell, and had taken it of a Woman unknown in the Market: Upon searching him, two more of the same sort were found in his Pocket-book, all which he said he had taken for Pork. From the Indian Prince he was carried over to another Tavern, where he had put up his Horse, in order to see if he had any Bags wherein more Bills might be found: While the Examination was continuing there, a Woman Stranger in the outer Room was observed to appear somewhat concern'd; upon which she was call'd in, and ask'd, if she knew that Man: she answer'd Yes, he was her Brother; being ask'd if she had any Money about her, the Man was seen to wink at her, and she answer'd, No; but attempting to slide her Hand into her Pocket, they prevented her, and brought the Woman of the House to search her, who found in her Pocket twenty-three 20 s. Bills of the same Sort. The Fellow finding the Story of the Hogs would not answer, nor any other Shuffles avail him any thing, betook himself at last to make an ingenuous Confession. He said that one Grindal who arrived this Summer in Capt. Blair from Ireland, got 600 20 s. Bills printed there from a Pattern he carried home last Year; that when he came here, he admitted one Watt into the Secret, and gave him a Number of the Bills to pass and exchange in Pennsylvania, while he went into the Jersies on the same Account, altering his Name to Thomson lest a Wife he had married at New-Garden should hear of him; and that they were to meet next Christmas at Philadelphia, and divide the Profits: That Watt had communicated the Thing to him, and given him Twenty-seven Bills to pass, of which he was to have a Share for himself; telling him, to persuade him to it, that it was no Sin, for it would make Money plentier among poor People. He said he had as yet pass'd but one, of which the Change 19 s. was found in his Pocket. He could not tell where Grindal might be at this Time in the Jersies, but he inform'd that Watt was at Eastown in Chester County. Officers were immediately dispatch'd in quest of him, who rid all Night, surpriz'd him in his Bed about Day-break, and guarded him to Town. After Examination he was committed to Prison, to keep company with his Friend the Pork-seller, who it seems has brought his Hogs to a fine Market. Tis hoped that by Christmas we shall see Grindal here also, that he may (according to Agreement) share the Profits with 'em. The Bills they have attempted to counterfeit are of the last Impression; the Counterfeits might pass with many People who do not take much Notice, but they have imitated the Paper very ill, that of the new Bills being thick and stiff, and the Counterfeits soft and flimsy. What is most surprising is, that the Counterfeiters, with all their care and exactness, have entirely omitted numbering their Bills; at least none of those are number'd which are seiz'd. Was this Infatuation, or were they afraid they should not number them right?

The Pennsylvania Gazette, December 19, 1732