In short, this is only another of Mr. Index’s paradoxes, in which he is a great dealer. The first endeavored to persuade us, that we were represented in the British Parliament virtually, and by fiction: Then that we were really represented there, because the Manor of East Greenwich in Kent is represented there, and all the Americans live in East Greenwich. And now he undertakes to prove to us, that taxes are the most profitable things in the world to those that pay them; for that Scotland is grown rich since the Union, by paying English taxes. I wish he would accommodate himself a little better to our dull capacities. We Americans have a great many heavy taxes of our own, to support our several governments, and pay off the enormous debt contracted by the war; we never conceived ourselves the richer for paying taxes, and are willing to leave all new ones to those that like them. At least, if we must with Scotland, participate in your taxes, let us likewise, with Scotland, participate in the Union, and in all the privileges and advantages of commerce that accompanied it.
Index, however, will never consent to this. He has made us partakers in all the odium with which he thinks fit to load Scotland: They resemble the Scots in sentiments (says he) their religion is Scottish; their customs and laws are Scottish; like the Scotch they Judaically observe what they call the Sabbath, persecute old women for witches, are intolerant to other sects, &c. But we must not, like the Scots, be admitted into Parliament; for that, he thinks, would increase the Scotch interest in England, which is equally hostile to the cause of liberty, and the cause of our church.
Pray, Sir, who informed you that our laws are Scottish? The same, I suppose, that told you our Indian corn is unwholesome. Indeed, Sir, your information is very imperfect. The common law of England, is, I assure you, the common law of the colonies: and if the civil law is what you mean by the Scottish law, we have none of it but what is forced upon us by England, in its courts of Admiralty, depriving us of that inestimable part of the common law, trials by juries. And do you look upon keeping the Sabbath, as part of the Scottish law? The Americans, like the Scots, (you say,) observe what they call the Sabbath. Pray, Sir, you who are so zealous for your church (in abusing other Christians) what do you call it? and where the harm of their observing it? If you look into your prayer-book, or over your altars, you will find these words written, Remember to keep holy the Sabbath Day. This law, though it may be observed in Scotland, and has been countenanced by some of your statutes, is, Sir, originally one of God’s Commandments: a body of laws still in force in America, though they may have become obsolete in some other countries.
Give me leave, Master John Bull, to remind you, that you are related to all mankind; and therefore it less become you than any body, to affront and abuse other nations. But you have mixed with your many virtues, a pride, a haughtiness, and an insolent contempt for all but yourself, that, I am afraid, will, if not abated, procure you one day or other a handsome drubbing. Besides your rudeness to foreigners, you are far from being civil even to your own family. The Welch you have always despised for submitting to your government: But why despise your own English, who conquered and settled Ireland for you; who conquered and settled America for you? Yet these you now think you may treat as you please, because, forsooth, they are a conquered people. Why despise the Scotch, who fight and die for you all over the world? Remember, you courted Scotland for one hundred years, and would fain have had your wicked will of her. She virtuously resisted all your importunities, but at length kindly consented to become your lawful wife. You then solemnly promised to love, cherish, and honor her, as long as you both should live; and yet you have ever since treated her with the utmost contumely, which you now begin to extend to your common children. But, pray, when your enemies are uniting in a Family Compact against you, can it be discreet in you to kick up in your own house a Family Quarrel? And at the very time you are inviting foreigners to settle on your lands, and when you have more to settle than ever you had before, it is [sic] prudent to suffer your lawyer, Vindex, to abuse those who have settled there already, because they cannot yet speak Plain English? It is my opinion, Master Bull, that the Scotch and Irish, as well as the colonists, are capable of speaking much plainer English than they have ever yet spoke, but which I hope they will never be provoked to speak.
To be brief, Mr. Vindex, I pass over your other accusations of the Americans, and of the Scotch, that we Persecute old women for witches, and are intolerant to other sects, observing only, that we were wise enough to leave off both those foolish tricks, long before Old England made the act of toleration, or repealed the statute against witchcraft; so that even you yourself may safely travel through all Scotland and the Colonies, without the least danger of being persecuted as a churchman, or taken (up) for a conjurer. And yet I own myself so far of an intolerant spirit, that though I thank you for the box-in-the-ear you have given Tom Hint, as being, what you justly call him, a futile calumniator, I cannot but wish he would give you another for the same reason.
One word more, however, about the Indian corn, which I began and must end with, even though I should hazard your remarking, that it is certainly indigestible, as it plainly appears to stick in my stomach. Let him tell the world, If he dares, (you say) that the Americans prefer it to a place at their tables. And, pray, if I should dare, what then? Why then You will enter upon a discussion of its salubrity and pleasant taste. Really? Would you venture to write on the salubrity and pleasant taste of Indian corn, when you never in your life have tasted a single grain of it? But why should that hinder you writing on it? Have you not written even on politics? Yours,
Homespun
C. 1765
The Mother Country. A Song
We have an old Mother that peevish is grown,
She snubs us like Children that scarce walk alone;
She forgets we’re grown up and have Sense of our own;
Which nobody can deny, deny, Which no body can deny.
If we don’t obey Orders, whatever the Case,
She frowns, and she chides, and she loses all Patience,
And sometimes she hits us a Slap in the Face,
Which nobody can deny, &c.
Her Orders so odd are, we often suspect,
That Age has impaired her sound Intellect:
But still an old Mother should have due Respect,
Which nobody can deny, &c.
Let’s bear with her Humors as well as we can:
But why should we bear the Abuse of her Man?
When Servants make Mischief, they earn the Rattan,
Which nobody should deny, &c.
Know too, ye bad Neighbors, who aim to divide
The Sons from the Mother, that still she’s our Prid;
And if ye attack her we’re all of her side,
Which nobody can deny, &c.
Well join in her Lawsuits, to baffle all those,
Who, to get what she has, will be often her Foes:
For we know it must all be our own, when she goes,
Which nobody can deny, deny, Which nobody can deny.
A Paean to Deborah
Largely due to Franklin’s propaganda campaign and a stirring testimony he provided to Parliament, the Stamp Act was repealed. In celebration, he sent his wife a loving letter and a shipment of gifts. Deborah’s frugality and self-reliance were symbols of America’s ability to sacrifice rather than submit to an unfair tax.
TO DEBORAH FRANKLIN, APRIL 6, 1766
My dear child,
As the Stamp Act is at length repealed, I am willing you should have a new gown, which you may suppose I did not send sooner, as I knew you would not like to be finer than your neighbors, unless in a gown of your own spinning. Had the trade between the two countries totally ceased, it was a comfort to me to recollect that I had once been clothed from head to foot in woolen and linen of my wife’s manufacture, that I never was prouder of any dress in my life, and that she and her daughter might do it again if it was necessary. I told the Parliament that it was my opinion, before the old clot
hes of the Americans were worn out, they might have new ones of their own making. And indeed if they had all as many old clothes as your old man has, that would not be very unlikely; for I think you and George reckoned when I was last at home, at least 20 pair of old breeches.
Joking apart, I have sent you a fine piece of pompadour satin, 14 yards cost 11s. per yard. A silk negligee and petticoat of brocaded lutestring for my dear Sally, with 2 doz. gloves, 4 bottles of lavender water, and two little reels. The reels are to screw on the edge of a table, when she would wind silk or thread, the skein is to be put over them, and winds better than if held in two hands. There is also an ivory knob to each, to which she may with a bit of silk cord hang a pin hook to fasten her plain work to like the hooks on her weight. I send you also lace for two lappet caps, 3 ells of cambric (the cambric by Mr. Yates) 3 damask table cloths, a piece of crimson Morin for curtains, with tassels, line and binding. A large true turkey carpet cost 10 guineas, for the dining parlor. Some oiled silk; and a gimcrack corkscrew which you must get some brother gimcrack to show you the use of. In the chest is a parcel of books for my friend Mr. Coleman, and another for cousin Colbert. Pray did he receives those I sent him before? I send you also a box with three fine cheeses. Perhaps a bit of them may be left when I come home.
Mrs. Stevenson has been very diligent and serviceable in getting these things together for you, and presents her best respects, as does her daughter, to both you and Sally. There are two boxes included in your bill of lading for Billy.
I received your kind letter of Feb. 20. It gives me great pleasure to hear that our good old friend Mrs. Smith is on the recovery. I hope she has yet many happy years to live. My love to her.
I fear, from the account you give of brother Peter that he cannot hold it long. If it should please God that he leaves us before my return; I would have the post office remain under the management of their son, till Mr. Foxcroft and I agree how to settle it.
There are some droll prints in the box, which were given me by the painter; and being sent when I was not at home, were packed up without my knowledge. I think he was wrong to put in Lord Bute, who had nothing to do with the stamp act. But it is the fashion here to abuse that nobleman as the author of all mischief. I send you a few bush beans, a new sort for your garden. I shall write to my friends per packet, that goes next Saturday. I am very well, and hope this will find you and Sally so with all our relations and friends, to whom my love. I am, as ever, Your affectionate Husband,
B. Franklin
The Grumpy Boarder
The good-humored domestic relationship that Franklin had with his landlady Margaret Stevenson was illustrated by the good-natured grumpiness he expressed when she left their home on Craven Street for a long weekend visit with relatives in the country.
TO MARGARET STEVENSON, NOVEMBER 3, 1767
Dear Madam,
I breakfasted abroad this morning and nanny tells me that Mr. West called while I was out, and left word that you did not intend to come home till Sunday next, and that you expected me then to come and fetch you; that Mr. West also desired I would dine at his house that day: I know not whether nanny is right in all this, as she has but an indifferent memory. But it seems strange to me that you should think of staying so long.
People must have great confidence in their own agreeableness that can suppose themselves not to become tiresome guests at the end of three days at farthest. I did not imagine you had been so conceited. My advice to you is, to return with the stage tomorrow. And if it is proposed that we dine there on Sunday, I shall wait on Mr. and Mrs. West with pleasure on that day, taking you with me.
But, however, I pray you not to understand that I so want you at home as not to do very well without you. Everything goes on smoothly, and the house is very quiet; and very clean too, without my saying a word about it. I am willing to allow that the arrangements you made before you went may have contributed something towards the good order and comfort in which we go on; but yet you are really mistaken in your fancy that I should, by your absence, become more sensible of your usefulness to me, and the necessity of having you always near me; for in truth I find such a satisfaction in being a little more my own master, going any where and doing any thing just when and how I please without the advice or control of anybody’s wisdom but my own small as it is, that I value my own liberty above all the advantage of other’s services, and begin to think I should be still happier if nanny and the cat would follow their mistress, and leave me to the enjoyment of an empty house, in which I should never be disturbed by questions of whether I intend to dine at home, and what I would have for dinner; or by a mewing request to be let in or let out.
This happiness however is perhaps too great to be conferred on any but saints and holy hermits. Sinners like me, I might have said US, are condemned to live together and tease one another, so concluding you will be sentenced to come home tomorrow, I add no more but that I am as ever your affectionate friend and humble servant
B. Franklin
More on Welfare Dependency
Franklin’s innate conservatism about government intervention and welfare was evident in the series of questions he had posed to Peter Collinson in 1753. Back then, he had asked whether laws “which compel the rich to maintain the poor have not given the latter a dependence” and “provide encouragements for laziness”?
To Collinson these points were raised as questions. But in his essays in the late 1760s and early 1770s, Franklin asserted these ideas more forcefully. Most notable was an anonymous piece in 1768 which he signed as “Medius,” from the Latin word for middle. He noted that in England wealthy legislators had passed many laws to help support the poor. These laws were compassionate, but he warned that they could have unintended consequences and promote laziness.
Not only did he warn against welfare dependency, he offered his own version of the trickle-down theory of economics. The more money made by the rich and by all of society, the more money that would make its way down to the poor. He also debunked the idea of imposing a higher minimum wage.
ON THE LABORING POOR, THE GENTLEMAN’S MAGAZINE, APRIL, 1768
Sir,
I have met with much invective in the papers for these two years past, against the hard-heartedness of the rich, and much complaint of the great oppressions suffered in this country by the laboring poor. Will you admit a word or two on the other side of the question? I do not propose to be an advocate for oppression, or oppressors. But when I see that the poor are by such writings exasperated against the rich, and excited to insurrections, by which much mischief is done, and some forfeit their lives, I could wish the true state of things were better understood, the poor not made by these busy writers more uneasy and unhappy than their situation subjects them to be, and the nation not brought into disrepute among foreigners by public groundless accusations of ourselves, as if the rich in England had no compassion for the poor, and Englishmen wanted common humanity.
In justice then to this country, give me leave to remark, that the condition of the poor here is by far the best in Europe, for that, except in England and her American colonies, there is not in any country of the known world, not even in Scotland or Ireland, a provision by law to enforce a support of the poor. Everywhere else necessity reduces to beggary. This law was not made by the poor. The legislators were men of fortune. By that act they voluntarily subjected their own estates, and the estates of all others, to the payment of a tax for the maintenance of the poor, encumbering those estates with a kind of rent charge for that purpose, whereby the poor are vested with an inheritance, as it were, in all the estates of the rich. I wish they were benefited by this generous provision in any degree equal to the good intention with which it was made, and is continued: But I fear the giving mankind a dependence on any thing for support in age or sickness, besides industry and frugality during youth and health, tends to flatter our natural indolence, to encourage idleness and prodigality, and thereby to promote and increase poverty, the very evil it
was intended to cure; thus multiplying beggars, instead of diminishing them.
Besides this tax, which the rich in England have subjected themselves to in behalf of the poor, amounting in some places to five or six shillings in the pound of the annual income, they have, by donations and subscriptions, erected numerous schools in various parts of the kingdom, for educating gratis the children of the poor in reading and writing, and in many of those schools the children are also fed and clothed. They have erected hospitals, at an immense expense, for the reception and cure of the sick, the lame, the wounded, and the insane poor, for lying-in women, and deserted children. They are also continually contributing towards making up losses occasioned by fire, by storms, or by floods, and to relieve the poor in severe seasons of frost, in times of scarcity, &c. in which benevolent and charitable contributions no nation exceeds us. Surely there is some gratitude due for so many instances of goodness!
Add to this, all the laws made to discourage foreign manufactures, by laying heavy duties on them, or totally prohibiting them, whereby the rich are obliged to pay much higher prices for what they wear and consume, than if the trade was open: These are so many laws for the support of our laboring poor, made by the rich, and continued at their expense; all the difference of price between our own and foreign commodities, being so much given by our rich to our poor; who would indeed be enabled by it to get by degrees above poverty, if they did not, as too generally they do, consider every increase of wages, only as something that enables them to drink more and work less; so that their distress in sickness, age, or times of scarcity, continues to be the same as if such laws had never been made in their favor.
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