45  A  Nation  is  Born  

from A Nation is Born: 1750-1800

“A Nation is Born: 1750-1800.” Prentice Hall Literature: The American Experience. 2005.

The fate of unborn millions will now depend, under God, on the courage and conduct of this army. Our cruel and unrelenting enemy leaves us only the choice of brave resistance, or the most abject[degrading] submission. We have, therefore, to resolve to conquer or die.

George Washington,

addressing the Continental Army before the battle of Long Island, August 27, 1776

_______

THE HISTORICAL SETTING

It is easy to forget how long the thirteen original states had been colonies. By 1750, there were fourth- and fifth- generation Americans of European descent living in Virginia and New England. These people were English subjects, and, on the whole, they were well satisfied with that status. Royal governors irritated them from time to time, but the colonial assemblies were locally elected and exercised considerable power, particularly over money. Year by year, decade by decade, Americans acquired experience in the art of self-government. As late as the early 1760s, however, few Americans had given much thought to the prospect of independence.

Between the mid-1760s, and the mid-1770s, however, attitudes changed dramatically. King George III and Parliament imposed a number of unwise regulations that threatened the liberties of the colonists. With each succeeding measure, the outrage in America grew, finally erupting into war. As one Revolutionary veteran put it, “We always have governed ourselves, and we always meant to.”

The Age of Reason

Great upheavals in history occur when circumstances are ripe. The American Revolution was such an upheaval and the groundwork for it had been laid by European writers and thinkers as well as by the English king and the Parliament. The eighteenth century is often characterized as the Age of Reason, or the Enlightenment. Spurred by the work of seventeenth-century scientists such as Galileo and Sir Isaac Newton, the writers and thinkers of the Enlightenment valued reason over faith. Unlike the Puritans, they had little interest in the hereafter, believing instead in the power of reason and science to further human progress. They spoke of a social contract that forms the basic government. Above all, they believed that people are by nature good, not evil. A perfect society seemed to them to be more than just an idle dream.

The American statesmen of the Revolutionary period were themselves figures of the Enlightenment. No history of the period would be complete without mention of the thought and writings of Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Paine, and Thomas Jefferson. These Americans not only expressed the ideas of the Age of Reason, but they also helped to put them spectacularly into practice.

Toward a Clash of Arms

The American Revolution was preceded by the

French and Indian War, a struggle between England and France for control of North America. The conflict broke out in the colonies in 1754 and continued for nearly a decade. British forces won the decisive battle of the war at the city of Quebec, Canada, in 1759. When the French and Indian War officially ended in 1763, France gave up its claims to North American territory. There was a general jubilation in the thirteen English colonies.

The good feelings were short lived, however. The British government, wanting to raise revenue un the colonies to pay its war debt, passed the Stamp Act in 1765. This was the first tax other than customs duties ever imposed on the colonists by Great Britain. The act required buy and affixing stamps to each of fifty-four kinds of items, including newspapers, playing cards, legal documents, licenses, and almanacs. Colonial reaction to the Stamp Act was swift and bitter. Stamps were burned. Stamp distributers were beaten and their shops destroyed. No blood was shed, but the hated stamps were withdrawn within six months, and the Stamp Act was repealed.

Other acts and reactions followed. The Townshend Acts of 1767 taxed paper, paint, glass, lead, and tea. When the colonists organized a boycott, the British dissolved the Massachusetts legislature and sent two regiments of British troops to Boston. In 1770, these Redcoats fired into a taunting mob, causing five fatalities. This so-called Boston Massacre further inflamed passions. Parliament repealed the Townshend duties except for the tax on tea, but a separate Tea Act soon greeted the colonists. The Tea Act gave an English company a virtual monopoly of the American tea trade. Furious, a group of Bostonians dressed as Mohawks dumped a shipment of tea into Boston harbor. As punishment for this Boston Tea Party, the English Parliament passed the Coercive Acts. Colonists immediately dubbed them the Intolerable Acts.

In September 1774, colonial leaders, although not speaking openly of independence, met in Philadelphia for the First Continental Congress. The British, their authority slipping away, appointed General Thomas Gage governor of Massachusetts. The stage was set for war.

 46   A  Nation  is  Born  

“The Shot Heard Round the World” On April 19, 1775, 700 British troops met some 70

colonial minutemen on the Lexington green. A musket shot was fired (from which side, no one knows), and before the shooting that followed was over, eight Americans lay dead. The British marched west to Concord, where another skirmish took place. The encounters at Lexington and Concord, a landmark in American history, have been referred to as “the shot heard round the world.” The American Revolution had begun and there would be no turning back.

In June, the Americans killed or wounded more than a thousand British soldiers at the Battle of Bunker Hill. Although all the fighting up to this point had taken place in Massachusetts, the revolt involved all the colonies. Two days before Bunker Hill, the Second Continental Congress, meeting in Philadelphia, had named a commander in chief of the official American army. He was George Washington of Virginia.

More than a year would pass before the colonies declared their independence. More than six years would pass before the war ended, although the Battle at Saratoga, in upstate New York, the British were surrounded and forced to surrender more than 5,000 men. When news of this American victory reached Paris, the government of France formally recognized the independence of the United States. Soon afterward, France began to commit troops to aid the American cause.

After six years of fighting, the war finally came to an end at Yorktown, Virginia, on October 19, 1781. Aided by the French army, General Washington bottled up the 8,000-man British force under General Cornwallis. Seeing that escape was impossible, Cornwallis surrendered.

The New Nation

The path to self-government was not always smooth.

After the Revolution, the Articles of Confederation established a “league of friendship” among the new states. This arrangement did not work well, however. The federal Constitution that replaced the Articles required many compromises and was ratified only after a long fight. Even then, a Boll of Rights had to be added to placate those who feared the centralized power that the Constitution conferred.

The old revolutionaries, by and large, remained true to their principles and continued their public duties. George Washington became the nation’s first President. John Adams, a signer of the Declaration of Independence, succeeded him in that office. Then, in 1800, Americans elected as their president the brilliant statesman who had drafted the Declaration, one of the heroes of the Enlightenment, Thomas Jefferson.

LITERATURE OF THE PERIOD

A Time of Crisis In contrast to the private soul-searching of the

Puritans of New England, much of what was produced during the Revolutionary period was public writing. By the time of the War for Independence, nearly fifty newspapers had been established in the coastal cities. At the time of Washington’s inauguration, there were nearly forty magazines. Almanacs were popular from Massachusetts to Georgia.

The mind of the nation was on politics. Journalists and printers provided a forum for the expression of ideas. After 1763, those ideas were increasingly focused on relations with Great Britain and, more broadly, on the nature of government. The writing of permanent importance from the Revolutionary era is mostly political writing.

Politics as Literature

The public writing and speaking of American

statesmen in two tumultuous decades, the 1770’s and 1780’s, helped to reshape not only the nation but also the world. James Otis of Massachusetts defended colonial rights vigorously in speeches and pamphlets. Otis, an eloquent speaker, is credited with giving Americans their rallying cry: “Taxation without representation is tyranny.”

Patrick Henry was a spellbinding orator whose speech against the Stamp Act in the Virginia House of Burgesses brought cries of “Treason!” Ten years later, his electrifying speech to the Virginia Convention expressed the rising sentiment for independence.

Thomas Paine was more influential than any other in swaying the public opinion in favor of independence. His 1776 pamphlet Common Sense swept the colonies, selling 1000,000 copies in three months.

The Declaration of Independence was first drafted by Thomas Jefferson in June 1776. The finished document is largely his work, although a committee of five, including Benjamin Franklin, was involved in its creation. The Declaration, despite some exaggerated charges against King George III, is one of the most influential political statements ever made.

Another document written by a committee that has stood the test of time is the Constitution of the United States, drafted in 1787. The framers, whose new nation contained about four million people, hoped that the Constitution would last a generation. It still survives, amended many times, as the political foundation of a superpower of fifty states and more than 250 million people. However, not everyone in 1787 was pleased with the Constitution. Alexander Hamilton called it a “weak and worthless fabric,” and Benjamin Franklin supported it only because, as he said, “I expect no better.”

The doubts of the framers were reflected in the controversy over ratification. Delaware ratified the Constitution within three months, this becoming the first

  47  A  Nation  is  Born  

state in the Union. However, the ratification of nine states was necessary before the document could go into effect. The last few states proved difficult. The contest between supporters and opponents was especially hard-fought in New York. Alexander Hamilton, whose opinion of the Constitution was none too high, nevertheless wanted to see it pass in his home state. With James Madison and John Jay, he wrote a series of essays that were published as letters to tree New York newspapers. These essays, collected as The Federalist, severed their immediate purpose. New York ratified the Constitution by a vote of 30 to 27. Over time, they have also come to be recognized as authoritative statements on the principles of American government.

The Cultural Scene

While politics dominated the literature of the

Revolutionary period, not every writer of note was a statesman. Verse appeared in most of the newspapers, and numerous broadside ballads were published. (A broadside is a single sheet of paper, printed on one or both sides, dealing with a current topic.) One of the most popular broadside ballads was called “The Dying Redcoat,” supposedly written by a British sergeant mortally wounded in the Revolution. The sergeant in the ballad realizes too late that his sympathy lies with the American cause:

Fight on, America’s noble sons, Fear not Britannia’s thundering guns: Maintain your cause from year to year, God’s on your side, you need not fear. One poet of the time whose works were more

sophisticated that the broadside ballad was Philip Freneau, a 1771 graduate of Princeton. A journalist and newspaper editor by profession, Freneau wrote poetry throughout his life. A few of his poems, such as “The Wild Honeysuckle” and “The Indian Burying Ground,” earned his reputation as America’s earliest important lyric poet.

Two other poets of the day were Joel Barlow and Phillis Wheatley. Barlow, a 1778 Yale graduate, is best remembered for “The Hasty Pudding,” a mock-heroic tribute to cornmeal mush. Phillis Wheatley, born in Africa and brought to Boston in early childhood as a slave, showed signs of literary genius. A collection of her poems was published in England while she was still a young woman.

Another writer of the Revolutionary period recorded his impressions of everyday American life. He was Michel-Guillaume Jean de Crèvecoeur. Born of an aristocratic French family, Crèvecoeur became a soldier of fortune, a world traveler, and a farmer. For fifteen years he owned a plantation in Orange County, New York, and his impressions of life there were published in London in 1782 as Letters from an American Farmer.

Perhaps the best-known writings of the period outside the field of politics was done by Benjamin Franklin. His Poor Richard’s Almanack became familiar to most households in the colonies. […] A statesman, printer,

author, inventor, and scientist, Franklin was a true son of the Enlightenment. His Autobiography, covering only his early years, is regarded as one of the finest autobiographies in any language.

Culture and Art

During this period, America began to establish a

cultural identity of its own. Theaters were built from New York to Charlestown. Yet despitethe energy invested in these enterprises, the plays produced were often little more than pale imitations of dramas that had achieved success in Britain. The first play written by an author born in America was Thomas Godfrey’s tragedy The Prince of Parthia (1767). However, no truly American characters appeared in a play before Royall Tyler featured American types in his comedy The Contrast (1787). That play also deals with a theme that would be popular in many early American dramas: the victory of honest Americans over deceitful foreigners. […]

A number of new colleges were established after the war, especially in the South. […]

Several outstanding painters were at work in the colonies and the young republic. Among them were John Singleton Copley, Gilbert Stuart, John Trumbull, and Charles Willson Peale. Patience Wright, famous in the colonies as a sculptor of was portraits, moved to London before the war. While there, she acted as a Revolutionary spy. In music, William Billings produced The New England Psalm-Singer and a number of patriotic hymns. […] This was a turbulent time, a time of action, and its legacy was cultural as well as political.

American Literature at Daybreak

By the early 1800’s, America could boast a small

body of national literature. The Native Americans had contributed haunting poetry and legends through their oral traditions. The Puritans had written a number of powerful, inward-looking works. The statesmen of the Revolutionary period had produced political documents for the ages. A few poets and essayists had made a permanent mark on the literature of the young republic. There were, however, no American novels or plays of importance. The modern short story had yet to be invented.

As the eighteenth century came to a close, however, the raw materials for a great national literature were at hand, waiting to be used. The nation stood on the threshold of a territorial and population explosion unique in the history of the world. It would take almost exactly a century to close the frontier on the cast and carried continent beyond the Appalachians. During that century, American literature would burst forth with a vitality that might have surprised even the farsighted founders of the nation. The colonial age ended with a narrow volume of memorable literature. The nineteenth century would close with a library of works that form a major part of America’s literary heritage.

 48   The  Autobiography  

from The Autobiography (1791)

Franklin, Benjamin. “The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin.” Gutenberg. Web. 10 July 2014.

<http://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/148/pg148.html>.

Benjamin Franklin (1706-1790) was seventeen wen he left Boston for Philadelphia with the intention of opening his own print shop. He would continue to work as a printer until retiring at the age of forty-two. Following, he proved to be a successful scientist, inventing the lightning rod and bifocals, confirming the laws of electricity, and contributions to the scientific understanding of earthquakes and ocean currents. In spite of all these achievements, he is best remembered for his career in politics. Franklin played an important role in drafting the Declaration of Independence, enlisting French support during the Revolution, negotiating peace with Britain, and drafting the U.S. Constitution. Even before George Washington, he was considered to be “the father of his country.” Franklin wrote the first section of The Autobiography in 1771 at the age of sixty-five. At the urging of his friends, he wrote three more sections—the last shortly before his death—but succeeded in bringing the account of his life only to the years 1757 to 1759. Franklin’s Autobiography set the standard for what was then a new genre. Though never completed, The Autobiography paints a portrait of the man, his attitudes, and the world he inhabited.

____________

[…] My brother had, in 1720 or 1721, begun to print a newspaper. It was the second that appeared in America, and was called the New England Courant. The only one before it was the Boston News-Letter. I remember his being dissuaded by some of his friends from the undertaking, as not likely to succeed, one newspaper being, in their judgment, enough for America. At this time (1771) there are not less than five-and-twenty. He went on, however, with the undertaking, and after having worked in composing the types and printing off the sheets, I was employed to carry the papers thro' the streets to the customers.

He had some ingenious[clever] men among his friends, who amus'd themselves by writing little pieces for this paper, which gain'd it credit and made it more in demand, and these gentlemen often visited us. Hearing their conversations, and their accounts of the approbation[approval] their papers were received with, I was excited to try my hand among them; but, being still a boy, and suspecting that my brother would object to printing anything of mine in his paper if he knew it to be mine, I contrived to disguise my hand, and, writing an anonymous paper1, I put it in at night under the door of the printing-house. It was found in the morning, and

                                                                                                               1 referring to fourteen witty letters to the editor satirizing Boston society and politics that Franklin wrote (at sixteen) and signed “Silence Dogood.”

communicated to his writing friends when they call'd in as usual. They read it, commented on it in my hearing, and I had the exquisite pleasure of finding it met with their approbation, and that, in their different guesses at the author, none were named but men of some character among us for learning and ingenuity[creativity]. I suppose now that I was rather lucky in my judges, and that perhaps they were not really so very good ones as I then esteem'd them.

Encourag'd, however, by this, I wrote and convey'd in the same way to the press several more papers which were equally approv'd; and I kept my secret till my small fund of sense for such performances was pretty well exhausted and then I discovered it, when I began to be considered a little more by my brother's acquaintance, and in a manner that did not quite please him, as he thought, probably with reason, that it tended to make me too vain[arrogant]. And, perhaps, this might be one occasion of the differences that we began to have about this time. Though a brother, he considered himself as my master, and me as his apprentice, and accordingly, expected the same services from me as he would from another, while I thought he demean'd me too much in some he requir'd of me, who from a brother expected more indulgence. Our disputes were often brought before our father, and I fancy I was either generally in the right, or else a better pleader, because the judgment was generally in my favor. But my brother was passionate, and had often beaten me, which I took extreamly amiss[inappropriate]; and, thinking my apprenticeship very tedious[boring], I was continually wishing for some opportunity of shortening it, which at length offered in a manner unexpected.2

One of the pieces in our newspaper on some political point, which I have now forgotten, gave offense to the Assembly[government]. He was taken up, censur'd, and imprison'd for a month, by the speaker's warrant, I suppose, because he would not discover his author. I too was taken up and examin'd before the council; but, tho' I did not give them any satisfaction, they content'd themselves with admonishing[warning] me, and dismissed me, considering me, perhaps, as an apprentice, who was bound to keep his master's secrets.

During my brother's confinement, which I resented a good deal, notwithstanding our private differences, I had the management of the paper; and I made bold to give our rulers some rubs in it, which my brother took very kindly, while others began to consider me in an unfavorable light, as a young genius that had a turn for libeling[slandering] and satyr[satire]. My brother's discharge was accompany'd with

                                                                                                               2 I fancy his harsh and tyrannical treatment of me might be a means of impressing me with that aversion to arbitrary power that has stuck to me through my whole life.

  49  The  Autobiography  

an order of the House (a very odd one), that "James Franklin should no longer print the paper called the New England Courant."

There was a consultation held in our printing-house among his friends, what he should do in this case. Some proposed to evade the order by changing the name of the paper; but my brother, seeing inconveniences in that, it was finally concluded on as a better way, to let it be printed for the future under the name of BENJAMIN FRANKLIN; and to avoid the censure of the Assembly, that might fall on him as still printing it by his apprentice, the contrivance[plan] was that my old indenture[contract] should be return'd to me, with a full discharge on the back of it, to be shown on occasion, but to secure to him the benefit of my service, I was to sign new indentures for the remainder of the term, which were to be kept private. A very flimsy scheme it was; however, it was immediately executed, and the paper went on accordingly, under my name for several months.

At length, a fresh difference arising between my brother and me, I took upon me to assert my freedom, presuming that he would not venture to produce the new indentures. It was not fair in me to take this advantage, and this I therefore reckon one of the first errata[error] of my life; but the unfairness of it weighed little with me, when under the impressions of resentment for the blows his passion too often urged him to bestow upon me, though he was otherwise not an ill-natur'd man: perhaps I was too saucy[smart-alecky] and provoking.

When he found I would leave him, he took care to prevent my getting employment in any other printing-house of the town, by going round and speaking to every master, who accordingly refus'd to give me work. I then thought of going to New York, as the nearest place where there was a printer; and I was rather inclin'd to leave Boston when I reflected that I had already made myself a little obnoxious to the governing party, and, from the arbitrary proceedings of the Assembly in my brother's case, it was likely I might, if I stay'd, soon bring myself into scrapes[problems]; and farther, that my indiscrete disputations about religion began to make me pointed at with horror by good people as an infidel or atheist. I determin'd on the point, but my father now siding with my brother, I was sensible that, if I attempted to go openly, means would be used to prevent me. My friend Collins, therefore, undertook to manage a little for me. He agreed with the captain of a New York sloop[sailboat] for my passage, under the notion of my being a young acquaintance of his, that had got a naughty girl with child, whose friends would compel me to marry her, and therefore I could not appear or come away publicly. So I sold some of my books to raise a little money, was taken on board privately, and as we had a fair wind, in three days I found myself in New York, near 300 miles from home, a boy of but 17, without the least recommendation to, or knowledge of any person in the place, and with very little money in my pocket.

My inclinations for the sea were by this time worne out, or I might now have gratify'd them. But, having a

trade, and supposing myself a pretty good workman, I offer'd my service to the printer in the place, old Mr. William Bradford, who had been the first printer in Pennsylvania, but removed from thence upon the quarrel of George Keith. He could give me no employment, having little to do, and help enough already; but says he, "My son at Philadelphia has lately lost his principal hand, Aquila Rose, by death; if you go thither, I believe he may employ you." Philadelphia was a hundred miles further; I set out, however, in a boat for Amboy, leaving my chest and things to follow me round by sea.

In crossing the bay, we met with a squall[storm] that tore our rotten sails to pieces, prevented our getting into the Kill and drove us upon Long Island. […]

When we drew near the island, we found it was at a place where there could be no landing, there being a great surff on the stony beach. So we dropt anchor, and swung round towards the shore. Some people came down to the water edge and hallow'd to us, as we did to them; but the wind was so high, and the surff so loud, that we could not hear so as to understand each other. There were canoes on the shore, and we made signs, and hallow'd that they should fetch us; but they either did not understand us, or thought it impracticable, so they went away, and night coming on, we had no remedy but to wait till the wind should abate[decrease]; and, in the meantime, the boatman and I concluded to sleep, if we could; and so crowded into the scuttle, with the Dutchman, who was still wet, and the spray beating over the head of our boat, leak'd thro' to us, so that we were soon almost as wet as he. In this manner we lay all night, with very little rest; but, the wind abating the next day, we made a shift to reach Amboy before night, having been thirty hours on the water, without victuals[foods], or any drink but a bottle of filthy rum, and the water we sail'd on being salt.

In the evening I found myself very feverish, and went in to bed; but, having read somewhere that cold water drank plentifully was good for a fever, I follow'd the prescription, sweat plentiful most of the night, my fever left me, and in the morning, crossing the ferry, I proceeded on my journey on foot, having fifty miles to Burlington, where I was told I should find boats that would carry me the rest of the way to Philadelphia.

It rained very hard all the day; I was thoroughly soak'd, and by noon a good deal tired; so I stopt at a poor inn, where I staid all night, beginning now to wish that I had never left home. I cut so miserable a figure, too, that I found, by the questions ask'd me, I was suspected to be some runaway servant, and in danger of being taken up on that suspicion. However, I proceeded the next day, and got in the evening to an inn, within eight or ten miles of Burlington, kept by one Dr. Brown. He entered into conversation with me while I took some refreshment, and, finding I had read a little, became very sociable and friendly. Our acquaintance continu'd as long as he liv'd. […]

At his house I lay that night, and the next morning reach'd Burlington, but had the mortification[shame] to find that the regular boats were gone a little before my

 50   The  Autobiography  

coming, and no other expected to go before Tuesday, this being Saturday; wherefore I returned to an old woman in the town, of whom I had bought gingerbread to eat on the water, and ask'd her advice. She invited me to lodge at her house till a passage by water should offer; and being tired with my foot travelling, I accepted the invitation. She understanding I was a printer, would have had me stay at that town and follow my business, being ignorant of the stock necessary to begin with. She was very hospitable, gave me a dinner of ox-cheek with great good will, accepting only a pot of ale in return; and I thought myself fixed till Tuesday should come. However, walking in the evening by the side of the river, a boat came by, which I found was going towards Philadelphia, with several people in her. They took me in, and, as there was no wind, we row'd all the way; and about midnight, not having yet seen the city, some of the company were confident we must have passed it, and would row no farther; the others knew not where we were; so we put toward the shore, got into a creek, landed near an old fence, with the rails of which we made a fire, the night being cold, in October, and there we remained till daylight. Then one of the company knew the place to be Cooper's Creek, a little above Philadelphia, which we saw as soon as we got out of the creek, and arriv'd there about eight or nine o'clock on the Sunday morning, and landed at the Market-street wharf.

I have been the more particular in this description of my journey, and shall be so of my first entry into that city, that you may in your mind compare such unlikely beginnings with the figure I have since made there. I was in my working dress, my best cloaths being to come round by sea. I was dirty from my journey; my pockets were stuff'd out with shirts and stockings, and I knew no soul nor where to look for lodging. I was fatigued[tired] with travelling, rowing, and want of rest, I was very hungry; and my whole stock of cash consisted of a Dutch dollar, and about a shilling in copper. The latter I gave the people of the boat for my passage, who at first refus'd it, on account of my rowing; but I insisted on their taking it. A man being sometimes more generous when he has but a little money than when he has plenty, perhaps thro' fear of being thought to have but little.

Then I walked up the street, gazing about till near the market-house I met a boy with bread. I had made many a meal on bread, and, inquiring where he got it, I went immediately to the baker's he directed me to, in Secondstreet, and ask'd for bisket, intending such as we had in Boston; but they, it seems, were not made in Philadelphia. Then I asked for a three-penny loaf, and was told they had none such. So not considering or knowing the difference of money, and the greater cheapness nor the names of his bread, I made him give me three-penny worth of any sort. He gave me, accordingly, three great puffy rolls. I was surpriz'd at the quantity, but took it, and, having no room in my pockets, walk'd off with a roll under each arm, and eating the other. Thus I went up Market-street as far as Fourth-street, passing by the door of Mr. Read, my future wife's father; when she, standing

at the door, saw me, and thought I made, as I certainly did, a most awkward, ridiculous appearance. Then I turned and went down Chestnut-street and part of Walnut-street, eating my roll all the way, and, coming round, found myself again at Market-street wharf, near the boat I came in, to which I went for a draught of the river water; and, being filled with one of my rolls, gave the other two to a woman and her child that came down the river in the boat with us, and were waiting to go farther.

Thus refreshed, I walked again up the street, which by this time had many clean-dressed people in it, who were all walking the same way. I joined them, and thereby was led into the great meeting-house of the Quakers1 near the market. I sat down among them, and, after looking round awhile and hearing nothing said, being very drowsy thro' labor and want of rest the preceding night, I fell fast asleep, and continued so till the meeting broke up, when one was kind enough to rouse me. This was, therefore, the first house I was in, or slept in, in Philadelphia. […]

[The following excerpt related events that occurred several years later]

It was about this time I conceiv'd the bold and

arduous[difficult] project of arriving at moral perfection. I wish'd to live without committing any fault at any time; I would conquer all that either natural inclination, custom, or company might lead me into. As I knew, or thought I knew, what was right and wrong, I did not see why I might not always do the one and avoid the other. But I soon found I had undertaken a task of more difficulty than I had imagined. While my care was employ'd in guarding against one fault, I was often surprised by another; habit took the advantage of inattention; inclination was sometimes too strong for reason. I concluded, at length, that the mere speculative conviction that it was our interest to be completely virtuous, was not sufficient to prevent our slipping; and that the contrary habits must be broken, and good ones acquired and established, before we can have any dependence on a steady, uniform rectitude[goodness] of conduct. For this purpose I therefore contrived the following method.

In the various enumerations[lists] of the moral virtues I had met with in my reading, I found the catalogue more or less numerous, as different writers included more or fewer ideas under the same name. Temperance, for example, was by some confined to eating and drinking, while by others it was extended to mean the moderating every other pleasure, appetite, inclination, or passion, bodily or mental, even to our avarice[greed] and ambition. I propos'd to myself, for the sake of clearness, to use rather more names, with fewer ideas annex'd[attached] to each, than a few names with more ideas; and I included under thirteen names of virtues all that at that time occurr'd to me as necessary or desirable, and annexed to each a short precept, which fully express'd the extent I gave to its meaning.

                                                                                                               1 Quakers worship by gathering together for silent prayer and meditation.

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These names of virtues, with their precepts, were: 1. Temperance. Eat not to dullness; drink not to elevation. 2. Silence. Speak not but what may benefit others or yourself;

avoid trifling conversation. 3. Order. Let all your things have their places; let each

part of your business have its time. 4. Resolution. Resolve to perform what you ought;

perform without fail what you resolve. 5. Frugality. Make no expense but to do good to others

or yourself; i.e., waste nothing. 6. Industry. Lose no time; be always employ'd in

something useful; cut off all unnecessary actions. 7. Sincerity. Use no hurtful deceit; think innocently and

justly, and, if you speak, speak accordingly. 8. Justice. Wrong none by doing injuries, or omitting the

benefits that are your duty. 9. Moderation. Avoid extreams; forbear resenting

injuries so much as you think they deserve. 10. Cleanliness. Tolerate no uncleanliness in body,

cloaths, or habitation. 11. Tranquility. Be not disturbed at trifles, or at accidents

common or unavoidable. 12. Chastity. Rarely use venery[sexual indulgence] but for

health or offspring, never to dulness, weakness, or the injury of your own or another's peace or reputation.

13. Humility. Imitate Jesus and Socrates1. My intention being to acquire the habitude[habit] of all

these virtues, I judg'd it would be well not to distract my attention by attempting the whole at once, but to fix it on one of them at a time; and, when I should be master of that, then to proceed to another, and so on, till I should have gone thro' the thirteen; and, as the previous acquisition of some might facilitate the acquisition of certain others, I arrang'd them with that view, as they stand above. Temperance first, as it tends to procure that coolness and clearness of head, which is so necessary where constant vigilance[attentiveness] was to be kept up, and guard maintained against the unremitting[constant] attraction of ancient habits, and the force of perpetual[continual] temptations. This being acquir'd and establish'd, Silence would be more easy; and my desire being to gain knowledge at the same time that I improv'd in virtue, and considering that in conversation it was obtain'd rather by the use of the ears than of the tongue, and therefore wishing to break a habit I was getting into of prattling[chattering], punning, and joking, which only made me acceptable to trifling company, I gave Silence the second place. This and the next, Order, I expected would allow me more time for attending to my project and my studies. Resolution, once become habitual, would keep me firm in my endeavors to obtain all the subsequent virtues; Frugality and Industry freeing me from my remaining debt, and producing affluence[wealth] and independence, would make more easy the practice of

                                                                                                               1 Socrates (469–399 BCE) was ancient Athenian philosopher who engaged in self-reflection and dialogue with others in an attempt to reach moral virtue.

Sincerity and Justice, etc., etc. Conceiving then, that, agreeably to the advice of Pythagoras in his Golden Verses 2 , daily examination would be necessary, I contrived the following method for conducting that examination.

I made a little book, in which I allotted a page for each of the virtues. I rul'd each page with red ink, so as to have seven columns, one for each day of the week, marking each column with a letter for the day. I cross'd these columns with thirteen red lines, marking the beginning of each line with the first letter of one of the virtues, on which line, and in its proper column, I might mark, by a little black spot, every fault I found upon examination to have been committed respecting that virtue upon that day.

I determined to give a week's strict attention to each of the virtues successively. Thus, in the first week, my great guard was to avoid every[even] the least offence against Temperance, leaving the other virtues to their ordinary chance, only marking every evening the faults of the day. Thus, if in the first week I could keep my first line, marked T, clear of spots, I suppos'd the habit of that virtue so much strengthen'd and its opposite weaken'd, that I might venture extending my attention to include the next, and for the following week keep both lines clear of spots. Proceeding thus to the last, I could go thro' a course compleat in thirteen weeks, and four courses in a year. And like him who, having a garden to weed, does not attempt to eradicate[eliminate] all the bad herbs at once, which would exceed his reach and his strength, but works on one of the beds at a time, and, having accomplish'd the first, proceeds to a second, so I should have, I hoped, the encouraging pleasure of seeing on my pages the progress I made in virtue, by clearing successively my lines of their spots, till in the end, by a number of courses, I should be happy in viewing a clean book, after a thirteen weeks' daily examination. […]

The precept of Order requiring that every part of my business should have its allotted time, one page in my little book contain'd the following scheme of employment for the twenty-four hours of a natural day:

                                                                                                               2 Pythagoras (c. 580–500 BCE) was a Greek philosopher whose collection of moral statements became known as his Golden Verses

 52   The  Autobiography  

THE MORNING. Question. What good shall I do this day? NOON. EVENING. Question. What good have I done today? NIGHT.

5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 1 2 3 4

Rise, wash, and address Powerful Goodness! Contrive day’s business, and take the resolution of the day: prosecute the present study, and breakfast. Work. Read, or overlook my accounts, and dine. Work. Put things in their places. Supper. Music or diversion, or conversation. Conversation. Examination of the day. Sleep.

I enter'd upon the execution of this plan for self-

examination, and continu'd it with occasional intermissions[breals] for some time. I was surpris'd to find myself so much fuller of faults than I had imagined; but I had the satisfaction of seeing them diminish. To avoid the trouble of renewing now and then my little book, which, by scraping out the marks on the paper of old faults to make room for new ones in a new course, became full of holes, I transferr'd my tables and precepts to the ivory leaves of a memorandum book, on which the lines were drawn with red ink, that made a durable stain, and on those lines I mark'd my faults with a black-lead pencil, which marks I could easily wipe out with a wet sponge. After a while I went thro' one course only in a year, and afterward only one in several years, till at length I omitted them entirely, being employ'd in voyages and business abroad, with a multiplicity of affairs that interfered; but I always carried my little book with me.

My scheme of ORDER gave me the most trouble; and I found that, tho' it might be practicable where a man's business was such as to leave him the disposition of his time, that of a journeyman printer, for instance, it was not possible to be exactly observed by a master, who must mix with the world, and often receive people of business at their own hours. Order, too, with regard to places for things, papers, etc., I found extreamly difficult to acquire. I had not been early accustomed to it, and, having an exceeding good memory, I was not so sensible of the inconvenience attending want of method. This article, therefore, cost me so much painful attention, and my faults in it vexed[annoyed] me so much, and I made so little progress in amendment, and had such frequent relapses, that I was

almost ready to give up the attempt, and content myself with a faulty character in that respect, like the man who, in buying an ax of a smith, my neighbour, desired to have the whole of its surface as bright as the edge. The smith consented to grind it bright for him if he would turn the wheel; he turn'd, while the smith press'd the broad face of the ax hard and heavily on the stone, which made the turning of it very fatiguing. The man came every now and then from the wheel to see how the work went on, and at length would take his ax as it was, without farther grinding. "No," said the smith, "turn on, turn on; we shall have it bright by-and-by[soon enough]; as yet, it is only speckled." "Yes," said the man, "but I think I like a speckled ax best." And I believe this may have been the case with many, who, having, for want of some such means as I employ'd, found the difficulty of obtaining good and breaking bad habits in other points of vice and virtue, have given up the struggle, and concluded that "a speckled ax was best"; for something, that pretended to be reason, was every now and then suggesting to me that such extream nicety as I exacted of myself might be a kind of foppery[concerned with appearance] in morals, which, if it were known, would make me ridiculous; that a perfect character might be attended with the inconvenience of being envied and hated; and that a benevolent[kind] man should allow a few faults in himself, to keep his friends in countenance.

In truth, I found myself incorrigible[persistent] with respect to Order; and now I am grown old, and my memory bad, I feel very sensibly the want of it. But, on the whole, tho' I never arrived at the perfection I had been so ambitious of obtaining, but fell far short of it, yet I was, by the endeavour, a better and a happier man than I otherwise should have been if I had not attempted it; as those who aim at perfect writing by imitating the engraved copies, tho' they never reach the wish'd-for excellence of those copies, their hand is mended[improved] by the endeavor, and is tolerable while it continues fair and legible.

It may be well my posterity should be informed that to this little artifice, with the blessing of God, their ancestor ow'd the constant felicity[happiness] of his life, down to his 79th year, in which this is written. What reverses may attend the remainder is in the hand of Providence; but, if they arrive, the reflection on past happiness enjoy'd ought to help his bearing them with more resignation. To Temperance he ascribes his long-continued health, and what is still left to him of a good constitution; to Industry and Frugality, the early easiness of his circumstances and acquisition of his fortune, with all that knowledge that enabled him to be a useful citizen, and obtained for him some degree of reputation among the learned; to Sincerity and Justice, the confidence of his country, and the honorable employs it conferred upon him; and to the joint influence of the whole mass of the virtues, even in the imperfect state he was able to acquire them, all that evenness of temper, and that cheerfulness in conversation, which makes his company still sought for, and agreeable even to his younger acquaintance. I hope, therefore, that some of my descendants may follow the example and reap[gain] the benefit. […]

  53  The  Poor  Richard’s  Almanack  

from Poor Richard's Almanack (1733-1758)

Franklin, Benjamin. “Poor Richard's Almanack.” Archive. Web. 10 July 2014.

<https://archive.org/stream/poorrichardsalma00franrich/poorrichardsalma00franrich_djvu.txt>.

Poor Richard's Almanack (sometimes Almanac) was a yearly almanac published by Benjamin Franklin, who adopted the pseudonym of "Poor Richard" or "Richard Saunders" for this purpose. The publication appeared continually from 1733 to 1758. It was a best seller for a pamphlet published in the American colonies; print runs reached 10,000 per year.

_______________

Hunger is the best pickle.

He that lives upon hope will die fasting[eating little].

Fish and visitors smell in three days.

Keep thy shop, and thy shop will keep thee.

If your head is wax, don’t walk in the sun.

Necessity never made a good bargain.

Love your neighbor; yet don’t pull down your hedge[bush fence].

Fools make feasts, and wise men eat them.

God heals and the doctor takes the fee.

The rotten apple spoils his companions.

If you would know the value of money, try to borrow some.

A small leak will sink a great ship.

Drive thy business; let it not drive thee.

Genius without education is like silver in a mine.

The cat in gloves catches no mice.

Be slow in choosing a friend, slower in changing.

An open foe may prove a curse; but a pretend friend is worse.

Have you somewhat to do tomorrow, do it today.

A true friend is the best possession.

No gains without pains.

‘Tis easier to prevent bad habits than to break them.

Well done is better than well said.

Write injuries in dust, benefits in marble.

A good example is the best sermon.

Haste makes waste.

The doors of wisdom are never shut.

A slip of the foot you may soon recover, but a slip of the tongue you may never get over.

Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy,

and wise. God helps them that help themselves. Three may keep a

secret if two of them are dead. Dost though love life? Then do not squander time; for

that’s the stuff life is made of.

 54   The  Way  to  Wealth  

from The Way to Wealth (1758)

Franklin, Benjamin. “The Way to Wealth.” Revolutionary War and Beyond. Web. 10 July 2014.

<http://www.revolutionary-war-and-beyond.com/the-way-to-wealth-by-benjamin-franklin.html>.

The Way to Wealth is a compilation of many of Benjamin Franklin's most popular sayings from 25 years of publishing his Poor Richard's Almanack.

____________

Courteous Reader, I have heard that nothing gives an author so great

pleasure, as to find his works respectfully quoted by other learned authors. This pleasure I have seldom enjoyed; for tho' I have been, if I may say it without vanity, an eminent[well-know] author of almanacs annually now a full quarter of a century, my brother authors in the same way, for what reason I know not, have ever been very sparing in their applauses; and no other author has taken the least notice of me, so that did not my writings produce me some solid pudding, the great deficiency of praise would have quite discouraged me.

I concluded at length, that the people were the best judges of my merit[value]; for they buy my works; and besides, in my rambles, where I am not personally known, I have frequently heard one or other of my adages[sayings] repeated, with, as Poor Richard says, at the end on't; this gave me some satisfaction, as it showed not only that my instructions were regarded, but discovered likewise some respect for my authority; and I own, that to encourage the practice of remembering and repeating those wise sentences, I have sometimes quoted myself with great gravity.

Judge then how much I must have been gratified by an incident I am going to relate to you. I stopped my horse lately where a great number of people were collected at a vendue of merchant goods. The hour of sale not being come, they were conversing on the badness of the times, and one of the company called to a plain clean old man, with white locks, "Pray, Father Abraham, what think you of the times? Won't these heavy taxes quite ruin the country? How shall we be ever able to pay them? What would you advise us to?" Father Abraham stood up, and replied, "If you'd have my advice, I'll give it you in short, for a word to the wise is enough, and many words won't fill a bushel[container], as Poor Richard says." They joined in desiring him to speak his mind, and gathering round him, he proceeded as follows:

"Friends, says he, and neighbors, the taxes are indeed very heavy, and if those laid on by the government were the only ones we had to pay, we might more easily discharge them; but we have many others, and much more grievous[dreadful] to some of us. We are taxed twice as much by our idleness[inactivity], three times as much by our pride, and four times as much by our folly[irrationality], and from these taxes the commissioners

cannot ease or deliver us by allowing an abatement[reduction]. However let us hearken[listen] to good advice, and something may be done for us; God helps them that help themselves, as Poor Richard says, in his almanac of 1733.

"It would be thought a hard government that should tax its people one tenth part of their time, to be employed in its service. But idleness taxes many of us much more, if we reckon all that is spent in absolute sloth[laziness], or doing of nothing, with that which is spent in idle employments or amusements, that amount to nothing. Sloth, by bringing on diseases, absolutely shortens life. Sloth, like rust, consumes faster than labor wears, while the used key is always bright, as Poor Richard says. But dost thou love life, then do not squander time, for that's the stuff life is made of, as Poor Richard says. How much more than is necessary do we spend in sleep! forgetting that the sleeping fox catches no poultry[chicken], and that there will be sleeping enough in the grave, as Poor Richard says. If time be of all things the most precious, wasting time must be, as Poor Richard says, the greatest prodigality[wastefulness], since, as he elsewhere tells us, lost time is never found again, and what we call time-enough, always proves little enough: let us then be up and be doing, and doing to the purpose; so by diligence shall we do more with less perplexity. Sloth makes all things difficult, but industry[activity] all easy, as Poor Richard says; and he that riseth late, must trot all day, and shall scarce overtake his business at night. While laziness travels so slowly, that poverty soon overtakes him, as we read in Poor Richard, who adds, drive thy business, let not that drive thee; and early to bed, and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise.

"So what signifies wishing and hoping for better times. We may make these times better if we bestir[exert] ourselves. Industry need not wish, as Poor Richard says, and he that lives upon hope will die fasting. There are no gains, without pains […]. If we are industrious we shall never starve; for, as Poor Richard says, at the working man's house hunger looks in, but dares not enter. Nor will the bailiff nor the constable enter, for industry pays debts, while despair encreaseth them, says Poor Richard. What though you have found no treasure, nor has any rich relation left you a legacy, diligence is the mother of good luck, as Poor Richard says, and God gives all things to industry. Then plough[dig] deep, while sluggards sleep, and you shall have corn to sell and to keep, says Poor Dick. Work while it is called today, for you know not how much you may be hindered tomorrow, which makes Poor Richard say, one today is worth two tomorrows; and farther, have you somewhat to do tomorrow, do it today. If you were a servant, would you not be ashamed that a

  55  The  Way  to  Wealth  

good master should catch you idle? Are you then your own master, be ashamed to catch yourself idle, as Poor Dick says. When there is so much to be done for yourself, your family, your country, and your gracious king, be up by peep of day; let not the sun look down and say, inglorious[shameful] here he lies. Handle your tools without mittens; remember that the cat in gloves catches no mice, as Poor Richard says. 'Tis true there is much to be done, and perhaps you are weak handed, but stick to it steadily, and you will see great effects, for constant dropping wears away stones, and by diligence and patience the mouse ate in two the cable; and little strokes fell great oaks, as Poor Richard says in his almanac, the year I cannot just now remember.

"Methinks I hear some of you say, must a man afford himself no leisure? I will tell thee, my friend, what Poor Richard says, employ thy[your] time well if thou meanest to gain leisure; and, since thou art not sure of a minute, throw not away an hour. Leisure is time for doing something useful; this leisure the diligent man will obtain, but the lazy man never; so that, as Poor Richard says, a life of leisure and a life of laziness are two things. Do you imagine that sloth will afford you more comfort than labor? No, for as Poor Richard says, trouble springs from idleness, and grievous toil[work] from needless ease. Many without labor would live by their wits only, but they break for want of stock. Whereas industry gives comfort, and plenty, and respect: fly pleasures, and they'll follow you. The diligent spinner has a large shift, and now I have a sheep and a cow, everybody bids me good morrow, all which is well said by Poor Richard.

"But with our industry, we must likewise be steady, settled and careful, and oversee our own affairs with our own eyes, and not trust too much to others; for, as Poor Richard says,

I never saw an oft removed tree, Nor yet an oft removed family,

That throve so well as those that settled be. "And again, three removes is as bad as a fire, and

again, keep the shop, and thy shop will keep thee; and again, if you would have your business

done, go; if not, send. And again, He that by the plough[farming tool] would thrive,

Himself must either hold or drive. "And again, the eye of a master will do more work

than both his hands; and again, want of care does us more damage than want of knowledge; and again, not to oversee workmen is to leave them your purse open. Trusting too much to others' care is the ruin of many; […] if you would have a faithful servant, and one that you like, serve yourself. And again, he adviseth to circumspection[caution] and care, even in the smallest matters, because sometimes a little neglect may breed great mischief […].

"So much for industry, my friends, and attention to one's own business; but to these we must add frugality[thrifty], if we would make our industry more

certainly successful. A man may, if he knows not how to save as he gets, keep his nose all his life to the grindstone, and die not worth a groat at last. […]

And farther, what maintains one vice, would bring up two children. You may think perhaps that a little tea, or a little punch now and then, diet a little more costly, clothes a little finer, and a little entertainment now and then, can be no great Matter; but remember what Poor Richard says, many a little makes a mickle[large amount], and farther, beware of little expenses; a small leak will sink a great ship, and again, who dainties love, shall beggars prove, and moreover, fools make Feasts, and wise men eat them.

"Here you are all got together at this vendue of fineries[expensive clothes] and knicknacks. You call them goods, but if you do not take care, they will prove evils to some of you. […] For in another place he says, many have been ruined by buying good pennyworths. […] Wise men, as Poor Dick says, learn by others' harms, fools scarcely by their own, but, felix quem faciunt aliena pericula cautum [Happy is the man who learns caution from other people's risks].

Many a one, for the sake of finery on the back, have gone with a hungry belly, and half starved their families; silks and satins, scarlet and velvets, as Poor Richard says, put out the kitchen fire. These are not the necessaries of life; they can scarcely be called the conveniencies, and yet only because they look pretty, how many want to have them. The artificial[false] wants of mankind thus become more numerous than the natural; and, as Poor Dick says, for one poor person, there are an hundred indigent[needy]. By these, and other extravagancies, the genteel[noble] are reduced to poverty, and forced to borrow of those whom they formerly despised, but who through industry and frugality have maintained their standing; in which case it appears plainly, that a ploughman on his legs is higher than a gentleman on his knees, as Poor Richard says. Perhaps they have had a small estate left them, which they knew not the getting of; they think 'tis day, and will never be night; that a little to be spent out of so much, is not worth minding; (a child and a fool, as Poor Richard says, imagine twenty shillings and twenty years can never be spent) but, always taking out of the meal-tub, and never putting in, soon comes to the bottom; then, as Poor Dick says, when the well's dry, they know the worth of water. But this they might have known before, if they had taken his advice; if you would know the value of money, go and try to borrow some, for, he that goes a borrowing goes a sorrowing […]. When you have bought one fine thing you must buy ten more, that your appearance maybe all of a piece; but Poor Dick says, 'tis easier to suppress the first desire than to satisfy all that follow it. […]

'Tis however a folly soon punished; for pride that dines on vanity sups on contempt[hatred], as Poor Richard says. And in another place, pride breakfasted with plenty, dined with poverty, and supped with infamy[dishonor]. And after all, of what use is this pride of appearance, for which so much is risked, so much is suffered? It cannot

 56   The  Way  to  Wealth  

promote health; or ease pain; it makes no increase of merit in the person, it creates envy, it hastens misfortune. […]

"This doctrine, my friends, is reason and wisdom; but after all, do not depend too much upon your own industry, and frugality, and prudence[cautiousness], though excellent things, for they may all be blasted without the blessing of heaven; and therefore ask that blessing humbly, and be not uncharitable to those that at present seem to want it, but comfort and help them. Remember Job1 suffered, and was afterwards prosperous.

"And now to conclude, experience keeps a dear school, but fools will learn in no other, and scarce in that, for it is true, we may give advice, but we cannot give conduct, as Poor Richard says: however, remember this, they that won't be counseled, can't be helped, as Poor Richard says: and farther, that if you will not hear reason, she'll surely rap[strike] your knuckles."

Thus the old gentleman ended his harangue[lecture]. The people heard it, and approved the doctrine, and immediately practiced the contrary[opposite], just as if it had been a common sermon; for the vendue opened, and they began to buy extravagantly, notwithstanding all his cautions, and their own fear of taxes. I found the good man had thoroughly studied my almanacs, and digested all I had dropped on those topics during the course of five-and-twenty years. The frequent mention he made of me must have tired any one else, but my vanity was wonderfully delighted with it, though I was conscious that not a tenth part of the wisdom was my own which he ascribed to me, but rather the gleanings[collections] I had made of the sense of all ages and nations. However, I resolved to be the better for the echo of it; and though I had at first determined to buy stuff for a new coat, I went away resolved to wear my old one a little longer. Reader, if thou wilt do the same, thy profit will be as great as mine. I am, as ever, thine to serve thee, Richard Saunders. July 7, 1757.

                                                                                                               1 Job (in the Bible) a prosperous man whose patience and piety were tried by undeserved misfortunes, and who, in spite of his bitter lamentations, remained confident in the goodness and justice of God.

  57  On  Literary  Style  

from On Literary Style (1733)

Franklin, Benjamin. “On Literary Style.” Franklin Papers. Web. 10 July 2014. <http://franklinpapers.org/franklin/framedVolumes.jsp?vol=1&page=328b>.

Originally printed in The Pennsylvania Gazette, August 2, 1733.

To the Printer of the Gazette. There are few Men, of Capacity for making any

considerable Figure in Life, who have not frequent Occasion to communicate their Thoughts to others in Writing; if not sometimes publickly as Authors, yet continually in the Management of their private Affairs, both of Business and Friendship: and since, when ill-express’d, the most proper Sentiments[opinions] and justest Reasoning lose much of their native Force and Beauty, it seems to me that there is scarce any Accomplishment more necessary to a Man of Sense, than that of Writing well in his Mother Tongue: But as most other polite Acquirements, make a greater Appearance in a Man’s Character, this however useful, is generally neglected or forgotten.

I believe there is no better Means of learning to write well, than this of attempting to entertain the Publick now and then in one of your Papers. When the Writer conceals himself, he has the Advantage of hearing the Censure[criticism] both of Friends and Enemies, express’d with more Impartiality. And since, in some degree, it concerns the Credit of the Province, that such Things as are printed be performed tolerably well, mutual Improvement seems to be the Duty of all Lovers of Writing: I shall therefore frankly communicate the Observations I have made or collected on this Subject, and request those of others in Return.

I have thought in general, that whoever would write so as not to displease good Judges, should have particular Regard to these three Things, viz[in other words]. That his Performance be smooth, clear, and short: For the contrary Qualities are apt to offend, either the Ear, the Understanding, or the Patience.

’Tis an Observation of Dr. Swift, that modern Writers injure the Smoothness of our Tongue, by omitting Vowels wherever it is possible, and joining the harshest Consonants together with only an Apostrophe between; thus for judged, in it self not the smoothest of Words, they say judg’d; for disturbed, disturb’d, &c. It may be added to this, says another, that by changing etb into s, they have shortened one Syllable in a multitude of Words, and have thereby encreased, not only the Hissing, too offensive before, but also the great Number of Monosyllables, of which, without great Difficulty, a smooth Sentence cannot be composed. The Smoothness of a Period is also often Hurt by Parentheses, and therefore the best Writers endeavour to avoid them.

To write clearly, not only the most expressive, but the plainest Words should be chosen. In this, as well as in

every other Particular requisite to Clearness, Dr. Tillotson is an excellent Example. The Fondness of some Writers for such Words as carry with them an Air of Learning, renders[reduces] them unintelligible to more than half their Countrymen. If a Man would that his Writings have an Effect on the Generality of Readers, he had better imitate that Gentleman, who would use no Word in his Works that was not well understood by his Cook-maid.

A too frequent Use of Phrases ought likewise to be avoided by him that would write clearly. They trouble the Language, not only rendring it extreamly difficult to Foreigners, but make the Meaning obscure to a great number of English Readers. Phrases, like learned Words, are seldom used without Affectation[showing-off]; when, with all true Judges, the simplest Stile is the most beautiful.

But supposing the most proper Words and Expressions chosen, the Performance may yet be weak and obscure, if it has not Method. If a Writer would persuade, he should proceed gradually from Things already allow’d, to those from which Assent[agreement] is yet with-held, and make their Connection manifest. If he would inform, he must advance regularly from Things known to things unknown, distinctly without Confusion, and the lower he begins the better. It is a common Fault in Writers, to allow their Readers too much Knowledge: They begin with that which should be the Middle, and skipping backwards and forwards, ’tis impossible for any one but he who is perfect in the Subject before, to understand their Work, and such an one has no Occasion to read it. Perhaps a Habit of using good Method, cannot be better acquired, than by learning a little Geometry or Algebra.

Amplification, or the Art of saying Little in Much, should only be allowed to Speakers. If they preach, a Discourse of considerable Length is expected from them, upon every Subject they undertake, and perhaps they are not stock’d with naked Thoughts sufficient to furnish it out. If they plead in the Courts, it is of Use to speak abundance, tho’ they reason little; for the Ignorant in a Jury, can scarcely believe it possible that a Man can talk so much and so long without being in the Right. Let them have the Liberty then, of repeating the same Sentences in other Words; let them put an Adjective to every Substantive[subject], and double every Substantive with a Synonima[synonym]; for this is more agreeable than hauking, spitting, taking Snuff, or any other Means of concealing Hesitation. Let them multiply Definitions, Comparisons, Similitudes and Examples. Permit them to make a Detail of Causes and Effects, enumerate[count] all the Consequences, and express one Half by Metaphor and

 58   On  Literary  Style  

Circumlocution: Nay, allow the Preacher to tell us whatever a Thing is negatively, before he begins to tell us what it is affirmatively; and suffer him to divide and subdivide as far as Two and fiftiethly. All this is not intolerable while it is not written. But when a Discourse is to be bound down upon Paper, and subjected to the calm leisurely Examination of nice Judgment, every Thing that is needless gives Offence; and therefore all should be retrenched[reduced], that does not directly conduce to the End design’d. Had this been always done, many large and tiresome Folio’s would have shrunk into Pamphlets, and many a Pamphlet into a single Period. However, tho’ a multitude of Words obscure the Sense, and ’tis necessary to abridge a verbose Author in order to understand him; yet a Writer should take especial Care on the other Hand, that his Brevity[shortness] doth not hurt his Perspicuity[clarity].

After all, if the Author does not intend his Piece for general Reading, he must exactly suit his Stile and Manner to the particular Taste of those he proposes for his Readers. Every one observes, the different Ways of Writing and Expression used by the different Sects of Religion; and can readily enough pronounce, that it is improper to use some of these Stiles in common, or to use the common Stile, when we address some of these Sects in particular.

To conclude, I shall venture to lay it down as a Maxim, That no Piece can properly be called good, and well written, which is void[empty] of any Tendency to benefit the Reader, either by improving his Virtue or his Knowledge. This Principle every Writer would do well to have in View, whenever he undertakes to write. All Performances done for meer[simple] Ostentation[flashiness] of Parts, are really contemptible; and withal far more subject to the Severity of Criticism, than those more meanly written, wherein the Author appears to have aimed at the Good of others. For when ’tis visible to every one, that a Man writes to show his Wit only, all his Expressions are sifted, and his Sense examined, in the nicest and most ill-natur’d manner; and every one is glad of an Opportunity to mortify[embarrass] him. But, what a vast Destruction would there be of Books, if they were to be saved or condemned on a Tryal by this Rule!

Besides, Pieces meerly humorous, are of all Sorts the hardest to succeed in. If they are not natural, they are stark[clear] naught; and there can be no real Humour in an Affectation[fakeness] of Humour.

Perhaps it may be said, that an ill Man is able to write an ill Thing well; that is, having an ill Design, and considering who are to be his Readers, he may use the properest Stile and Arguments to attain his Point. In this Sense, that is best wrote, which is best adapted to the Purpose of the Writer.

I am apprehensive[anxious], dear Readers, lest in this Piece, I should be guilty of every Fault I condemn, and deficient in every Thing I recommend; so much easier it is to offer Rules than to practise them. I am sure, however, of this, that I am Your very sincere Friend and Servant.

  59  Declaration  of  Independence  

The Declaration of Independence (1776)

Jefferson, Thomas. “The Declaration of Independence.” Prentice Hall Literature: The American Experience. 2005.

Thomas Jefferson (1743-1826) not only helped our nation win it’s independence and served as its third president, he also founded the University of Virginia, helped establish the public school system, designed his own home—the list goes on and on. During the Revolution, Jefferson was chosen (with Franklin, Adams, and others) to write a declaration of the colonies’ independence. The draft presented to the Second Continental Congress was largely Jefferson’s work. To his disappointment, however, Congress made changes before approving the document. They dropped Jefferson’s condemnation of the British for tolerating a corrupt Parliament, and they struck out a strong statement against slavery.

____________

IN CONGRESS, July 4, 1776.

The unanimous[undisputed] Declaration of the thirteen united States of America,

When in the Course of human events, it becomes

necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands[bindings] which have connected them with another, and to assume[accept] among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes[reasons] which impel[urge] them to the separation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed[gifted] by their Creator with certain unalienable[irremovable] Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.--That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, --That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence[cautiousness], indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient[temporary] causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn[has shown], that mankind are more disposed[willing] to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations[unlawful seizures of rights], pursuing invariably the same Object evinces[reveals] a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism[tyranny], it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security.--Such has been the patient sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the

necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government. The history of the present King of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these States.

To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid[frank] world.

He1 has refused his Assent[agreement] to Laws, the most wholesome and necessary for the public good. He has forbidden his Governors to pass Laws of immediate and pressing importance, unless suspended in their operation till his Assent should be obtained; and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them.

He has refused to pass other Laws for the accommodation of large districts of people, unless those people would relinquish[surrender] the right of Representation in the Legislature, a right inestimable[immeasurable] to them and formidable to tyrants only.

He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of their public Records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing[tiring] them into compliance[agreement] with his measures.

He has dissolved Representative Houses repeatedly, for opposing with manly firmness his invasions on the rights of the people.

He has refused for a long time, after such dissolutions[suspensions], to cause others to be elected; whereby the Legislative powers, incapable of Annihilation, have returned to the People at large for their exercise; the State remaining in the mean time exposed to all the dangers of invasion from without, and convulsions within.

He has endeavoured to prevent the population of these States; for that purpose obstructing the Laws for Naturalization of Foreigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their migrations hither, and raising the conditions of new Appropriations of Lands.

He has obstructed the Administration of Justice, by refusing his Assent to Laws for establishing Judiciary powers.

He has made Judges dependent on his Will[desire] alone, for the tenure[length] of their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries.

He has erected a multitude of New Offices, and sent hither swarms of Officers to harrass our people, and eat out their substance.

                                                                                                               1 Referring to King George III, ruler of Great Britain, and of the thirteen colonies (prior to the American Revolution)

 60   Declaration  of  Independence  

He has kept among us, in times of peace, Standing Armies without the Consent of our legislatures.

He has affected to render the Military independent of and superior to the Civil power.

He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws; giving his Assent to their Acts of pretended Legislation:

For Quartering[housing] large bodies of armed troops among us; For protecting them, by a mock Trial, from punishment for any Murders which they should commit on the Inhabitants of these States;

For cutting off our Trade with all parts of the world; For imposing Taxes on us without our Consent;

For depriving us in many cases, of the benefits of Trial by Jury;

For transporting us beyond Seas to be tried for pretended offences;

For abolishing the free System of English Laws in a neighbouring Province, establishing therein an Arbitrary government, and enlarging its Boundaries so as to render it at once an example and fit instrument for introducing the same absolute rule into these Colonies;

For taking away our Charters, abolishing our most valuable Laws, and altering fundamentally the Forms of our Governments;

For suspending our own Legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever.

He has abdicated[abandoned] Government here, by declaring us out of his Protection and waging War against us.

He has plundered our seas, ravaged our Coasts, burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people.

He is at this time transporting large Armies of foreign Mercenaries to compleat the works of death, desolation and tyranny, already begun with circumstances of Cruelty and perfidy[betrayal] scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and totally unworthy the Head of a civilized nation.

He has constrained our fellow Citizens taken Captive on the high Seas to bear Arms against their Country, to become the executioners of their friends and Brethren, or to fall themselves by their Hands.

He has excited domestic insurrections[uprisings] amongst us, and has endeavoured to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers, the merciless Indian Savages, whose known rule of warfare, is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes and conditions.

In every stage of these Oppressions We have Petitioned for Redress[compensation] in the most humble terms: Our repeated Petitions have been answered only by repeated injury. A Prince whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a Tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people.

Nor have We been wanting in attentions to our Brittish brethren. We have warned them from time to time of attempts by their legislature to extend an unwarrantable

jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the circumstances of our emigration and settlement here. We have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity[nobility], and we have conjured them by the ties of our common kindred[association] to disavow[deny] these usurpations[crimes], which, would inevitably interrupt our connections and correspondence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity[kinship]. We must, therefore, acquiesce[agree] in the necessity, which denounces our Separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, Enemies in War, in Peace Friends.

We, therefore, the Representatives of the united States of America, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude[goodness] of our intentions, do, in the Name, and by Authority of the good People of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, That these United Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States; that they are Absolved[released] from all Allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as Free and Independent States, they have full Power to levy War, conclude Peace, contract Alliances, establish Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which Independent States may of right do.

And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor.

Fugitive Slave Advertisement (1769)  1

The following add was placed by Thomas Jefferson in the Virginia Gazette on September 14, 1769:

RUN away from the subscriber in Albemarle, a Mulatto slave called Sandy, about 35 years of age, his stature is rather low, inclining to corpulence, and his complexion light; he is a shoemaker by trade, in which he uses his left hand principally, can do coarse carpenters work, and is something of a horse jockey; he is greatly addicted to drink, and when drunk is insolent and disorderly, in his conversation he swears much, and in his behaviour is artful and knavish. He took with him a white horse, much scarred with traces, of which it is expected he will endeavour to dispose; he also carried his shoemakers tools, and will probably endeavour to get employment that way. Whoever conveys the said slave to me, in Albemarle, shall have 40 s. reward, if taken up within the county, 4 l. if elsewhere within the colony, and 10 l. if in any other colony, from THOMAS JEFFERSON.

                                                                                                               1 Jefferson, Thomas. “Fugitive Slave Advertisement.” University of Virginia. Web. 10 July 2014.

  61  The  Crisis  

from The Crisis, Number I (1776)

Paine, Thomas. “The American Crisis, Number I.” Prentice Hall Literature: The American Experience. 2005.

Thomas Paine (1737-1809) was the most effective

American political writer of the Revolution. Two years after emigrating from England, Paine enlisted in the American army and wrote the first of sixteen essays called The American Crisis in December of 1776 while retreating with Washington’s army across New Jersey during the first, dark winter of the Revolutionary War. The army had just been crushingly defeated at Fort Lee by the British. Throughout the war, his pamphlets were inspiring and encouraging, both for the cold, tired, defeated soldiers and for the colonists who read them.

___

THESE are the times that try men's souls. The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of their country; but he that stands by it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman. Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation[comfort] with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly: it is dearness only that gives every thing its value. Heaven knows how to put a proper price upon its goods; and it would be strange indeed if so celestial[heavenly] an article as FREEDOM should not be highly rated. Britain, with an army to enforce her tyranny, has declared that she has a right (not only to TAX) but "to BIND us in ALL CASES WHATSOEVER"1 and if being bound in that manner, is not slavery, then is there not such a thing as slavery upon earth. Even the expression is impious[sinful]; for so unlimited a power can belong only to God. […]

I have as little superstition in me as any man living, but my secret opinion has ever been, and still is, that God Almighty will not give up a people to military destruction, or leave them unsupportedly to perish, who have so earnestly and so repeatedly sought to avoid the calamities of war, by every decent method which wisdom could invent. Neither have I so much of the infidel[nonbeliever] in me, as to suppose that He has relinquished the government of the world, and given us up to the care of devils; and as I do not, I cannot see on what grounds the king of Britain can look up to heaven for help against us: a common murderer, a highwayman, or a house-breaker, has as good a pretence as he.

'Tis surprising to see how rapidly a panic will sometimes run through a country. All nations and ages have been subject to them. […] Yet panics, in some cases, have their uses; they produce as much good as hurt. Their duration is always short; the mind soon grows through them, and acquires a firmer habit than before. But their peculiar advantage is, that they are the touchstones of                                                                                                                1 Reference to the Declaratory Act of Parliament (February 1766) that asserts Britain’s complete authority over the American colonies.

sincerity and hypocrisy, and bring things and men to light, which might otherwise have lain forever undiscovered. In fact, they have the same effect on secret traitors, which an imaginary apparition[ghost] would have upon a private murderer. They sift out the hidden thoughts of man, and hold them up in public to the world. […]

As I was with the troops at Fort Lee, and marched with them to the edge of Pennsylvania, I am well acquainted with many circumstances, which those who live at a distance know but little or nothing of. […]

I shall not now attempt to give all the particulars […]; suffice it for the present to say, that both officers and men, though greatly harassed and fatigued, frequently without rest, covering, or provision, the inevitable consequences of a long retreat, bore it with a manly and martial spirit. All their wishes centered in one, which was, that the country would turn out and help them to drive the enemy back. […]

I once felt all that kind of anger, which a man ought to feel, against the mean principles that are held by the Tories[pro-British colonist]: a noted one, who kept a tavern at Amboy, was standing at his door, with as pretty a child in his hand, about eight or nine years old, as I ever saw, and after speaking his mind as freely as he thought was prudent, finished with this unfatherly expression, "Well! give me peace in my day." Not a man lives on the continent but fully believes that a separation must some time or other finally take place, and a generous parent should have said, "If there must be trouble, let it be in my day, that my child may have peace;" and this single reflection, well applied, is sufficient to awaken every man to duty. Not a place upon earth might be so happy as America. Her situation is remote from all the wrangling world, and she has nothing to do but to trade with them. A man can distinguish himself between temper and principle, and I am as confident, as I am that God governs the world, that America will never be happy till she gets clear of foreign dominion. Wars, without ceasing, will break out till that period arrives, and the continent must in the end be conqueror; for though the flame of liberty may sometimes cease to shine, the coal can never expire. […]

I turn with the warm ardor[passion] of a friend to those who have nobly stood, and are yet determined to stand the matter out: I call not upon a few, but upon all: not on this state or that state, but on every state: up and help us; lay your shoulders to the wheel; better have too much force than too little, when so great an object is at stake. Let it be told to the future world, that in the depth of winter, when nothing but hope and virtue could survive, that the city and the country, alarmed at one common danger, came forth to meet and to repulse it. Say not that thousands are gone, turn out your tens of thousands; throw not the burden of the day upon Providence[God’s care], but "show

 62   The  Crisis  

your faith by your works," that God may bless you. It matters not where you live, or what rank of life you hold, the evil or the blessing will reach you all. The far and the near, the home counties and the back, the rich and the poor, will suffer or rejoice alike. The heart that feels not now is dead; the blood of his children will curse his cowardice, who shrinks back at a time when a little might have saved the whole, and made them happy. I love the man that can smile in trouble, that can gather strength from distress, and grow brave by reflection. 'Tis the business of little minds to shrink; but he whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his principles unto death. My own line of reasoning is to myself as straight and clear as a ray of light. Not all the treasures of the world, so far as I believe, could have induced me to support an offensive war, for I think it murder; but if a thief breaks into my house, burns and destroys my property, and kills or threatens to kill me, or those that are in it, and to "bind me in all cases whatsoever" to his absolute will, am I to suffer it? What signifies it to me, whether he who does it is a king or a common man; my countryman or not my countryman; whether it be done by an individual villain, or an army of them? If we reason to the root of things we shall find no difference; neither can any just cause be assigned why we should punish in the one case and pardon in the other. […]

  63  Wheatley  Poems  

from Poems on Various Subjects, Religious and Moral and Other Poems (1773)

Wheatley, Phillis. Poems on Various Subjects, Religious and Moral. 1773.

Phillis Wheatley (c. 1753-1784) was born in West Africa and brought to America as a slave when she was about eight years old. She would quickly achieve acclaim for her literary talent and became the first published African-American woman (and the second published African-American poet).

___ Preface (1773)

THE FOLLOWING POEMS were written originally for the Amusement of the Author, as they were the Products of her leisure Moments. She had no Intention ever to have published them; nor would they now have made their Appearance, but at the Importunity[insistency] of many of her best, and most generous Friends; to whom she considers herself, as under the greatest Obligations.

As her Attempts in Poetry are now sent into the World, it is hoped the Critic will not severely censure[criticize] their Defects; and we presume they have too much Merit to be cast aside with Contempt[dislike], as worthless and trifling Effusions[outpourings].

As to the Disadvantages she has laboured under, with Regard to Learning, nothing needs to be offered, as her Master’s Letter in the following Page will sufficiently show the Difficulties in this Respect she had to encounter.

With all their Imperfections, the Poems are now humbly submitted to the Perusal[inspection] of the Public.

The following is a Copy of a LETTER sent by the

Author’s Master to the Publisher. PHILLIS was brought from Africa to America, in the

Year 1761, between Seven and Eight Years of Age. Without any Assistance from School Education, and by only what she was taught in the Family, she, in sixteen Months Time from her Arrival, attained the English Language, to which she was an utter Stranger before, to such a Degree, as to read any, the most difficult Parts of the Sacred Writings, to the great Astonishment of all who heard her.

As to her WRITING, her own Curiosity led her to it; and this she learnt in so short a Time, that in the Year 1765, she wrote a Letter to the Rev. Mr. OCCOM, the Indian Minister, while in England.

She has a great Inclination to learn the Latin Tongue, and has made some Progress in it. This Relation is given by her Master who bought her, and with whom she now lives.

JOHN WHEATLEY. Boston, Nov. 14, 1772.

To the PUBLICK. AS it has been repeatedly suggested to the Publisher,

by Persons, who have seen the Manuscript, that Numbers would be ready to suspect they were not really the Writings of PHILLIS, he has procured the following Attestation, from the most respectable Characters in Boston, that none might have the least Ground for disputing their Original.

WE whose Names are under-written, do assure the World, that the POEMS specified in the following Page, were (as we verily believe) written by PHILLIS, a young Negro Girl, who was but a few Years since, brought an uncultivated Barbarian from Africa, and has ever since been, and now is, under the Disadvantage of serving as a Slave in a Family in this Town. She has been examined by some of the best Judges, and is thought qualified to write them.

[A list of judges follows, one of which is John Hancock]

_______________________ On Virtue (1773)

1 O thou bright jewel in my aim I strive

To comprehend thee. Thine[Your] own words declare Wisdom is higher than a fool can reach. I cease to wonder, and no more attempt

5 Thine height t’explore, or fathom[understand] thy profound[depth]. But, O my soul, sink not into despair, Virtue is near thee, and with gentle hand Would now embrace thee, hovers o’er thine head. Fain[Gladly] would the heaven-born soul with her converse[speak],

10 Then seek, then court[pursue] her for her promised bliss[happiness].

Auspicious[favorable] queen, thine heavenly pinions[wings] spread, And lead celestial[heavenly] Chastity[moral purity] along; Lo! now her sacred retinue[entourage] descends, Arrayed[displayed] in glory from the orbs above.

15 Attend me, Virtue, thro’ my youthful years! O leave me not to the false joys of time! But guide my steps to endless life and bliss. Greatness, or Goodness, say what I shall call thee, To give an higher appellation[title] still,

20 Teach me a better strain, a nobler lay, O Thou, enthroned with Cherubs[Angels] in the realms of day!

 64   Wheatley  Poems  

On Being Brought from Africa to America (1773)

1 'Twas mercy brought me from my Pagan[non-Christian] land, Taught my benighted[ignorant] soul to understand That there's a God, that there's a Saviour too: Once I redemption neither sought nor knew.

5 Some view our sable[black] race with scornful[hateful] eye, "Their colour is a diabolic[Devilish] die[mold]." Remember, Christians, Negros, black as Cain, May be refin'd[purified], and join th' angelic train.

_______________________

Wheatley was the first poet to personify America as the goddess Columbia. By giving the country’s muse a name based on the explorer Columbus, Wheatley added to the new nation’s mythology. The image caught on. In fact, a statue of Columbia sits atop the dome of the Capital building in Washington, D.C.

His Excellency, General Washington (1775)

1 Celestial[Heavenly] choir! enthron’d in realms of light, Columbia’s1 scenes of glorious toils[struggles] I write. While freedom’s cause her anxious breast alarms, She flashes dreadful in refulgent[shining] arms.

5 See mother earth her offspring’s fate bemoan[mourn], And nations gaze at scenes before unknown! See the bright beams of heaven’s revolving light Involved in sorrows and the veil[coverings] of night! The Goddess comes, she moves divinely fair,

10 Olive2 and laurel3 binds Her golden hair: Wherever shines this native of the skies, Unnumber’d charms and recent graces rise. Muse!4 Bow propitious[favorable] while my pen relates How pour[flow] her armies through a thousand gates,

15 As when Eolus5 heaven’s fair face deforms, Enwrapp’d in tempest[winds] and a night of storms; Astonish’d ocean feels the wild uproar, The refluent[flowing] surges beat the sounding shore; Or think as leaves in Autumn’s golden reign,

20 Such, and so many, moves the warrior’s train. In bright array they seek the work of war, Where high unfurl’d the ensign[flag] waves in air. Shall I to Washington their praise recite? Enough thou know’st them in the fields of fight.

25 Thee, first in peace and honors—we demand The grace and glory of thy martial band. Fam’d for thy valour[bravery], for thy virtues more, Hear every tongue thy guardian aid implore[beg]!

                                                                                                               1 Columbia: America personified as a goddess 2 olive: referring to an olive branch, a symbol of peace 3 laurel: the foliage of the bay tree woven into a wreath or crown and worn on the head as a symbol of victory or honor in classical times 4 Muse: the Greek goddess who presides over poetry 5 Eolus: the Greek god of winds

One century scarce perform’d its destined round,

30 When Gallic6 powers Columbia’s fury found; And so may you, whoever dares disgrace The land of freedom’s heaven-defended race! Fix’d are the eyes of nations on the scales, For in their hopes Columbia’s arm prevails.

35 Anon[Soon] Britannia[England] droops the pensive[thoughtful] head, While round increase the rising hills of dead. Ah! Cruel blindness to Columbia’s state! Lament[mourn] thy thirst of boundless power too late. Proceed, great chief, with virtue on thy side,

40 Thy ev’ry action let the Goddess guide. A crown, a mansion, and a throne that shine,7 With gold unfading, WASHINGTON! Be thine.

_______________________ Liberty and Peace (1784)

1 LO! Freedom comes. Th' prescient[prophetic] Muse foretold, All Eyes th' accomplish'd Prophecy behold: Her Port describ'd, "She moves divinely fair, "Olive and Laurel bind her golden Hair."

5 She, the bright Progeny[descendent] of Heaven, descends, And every Grace her sovereign[supreme] Step attends; For now kind Heaven, indulgent to our Prayer, In smiling Peace resolves the Din[noise] of War. Fix'd in Columbia her illustrious Line,

10 And bids in thee her future Councils shine. To every Realm her Portals open'd wide, Receives from each the full commercial Tide. Each Art and Science now with rising Charms Th' expanding Heart with Emulation warms.

15 E'en great Britannia sees with dread Surprize, And from the dazzling Splendor turns her Eyes! Britain, whose Navies swept th' Atlantic o'er, And Thunder sent to every distant Shore; E'en thou, in Manners cruel as thou art,

20 The Sword resign'd, resume the friendly Part! For Galia's Power espous'd[supported] Columbia's Cause, And new-born Rome8 shall give Britannia Law, Nor unremember'd in the grateful Strain, Shall princely Louis' 9 friendly Deeds remain;

25 The generous Prince th' impending Vengeance eye's, Sees the fierce Wrong, and to the rescue flies. Perish that Thirst of boundless Power, that drew On Albion's10 Head the Curse to Tyrants due. But thou appeas'd submit to Heaven's decree,

                                                                                                               6 Gallic: French. The colonists, led by Washington, defeated the French in the French and Indian War (1754-1763) 7 “A crown…shine”: Biblical allusions to the rewards that await those who perform the will of God 8 Rome: referring to the Roman Empire, which conquered vast portions of the Western world (27 BCE-476), as well as lands in the East (330-1453) 9 Louis: king of France 10 Albion: Great Britain

  65  Wheatley  Poems  

30 That bids this Realm of Freedom rival thee! Now sheathe the Sword that bade the Brave attone With guiltless Blood for Madness not their own. Sent from th' Enjoyment of their native Shore Ill-fated – never to behold her more!

35 From every Kingdom on Europa's Coast Throng'd various Troops, their Glory, Strength and Boast. With heart-felt pity fair Hibernia1 saw Columbia menac'd by the Tyrant's Law: On hostile Fields fraternal[brotherly] Arms engage,

40 And mutual Deaths, all dealt with mutual Rage: The Muse's Ear hears mother Earth deplore Her ample Surface smoak with kindred Gore: The hostile Field destroys the social Ties, And every-lasting Slumber seals their Eyes.

45 Columbia mourns, the haughty Foes deride, Her Treasures plunder'd, and her Towns destroy'd: Witness how Charlestown's2 curling Smoaks arise, In sable[black] Columns to the clouded Skies! The ample Dome, high-wrought with curious Toil,

50 In one sad Hour the savage Troops despoil. Descending Peace and Power of War confounds; From every Tongue celestial Peace resounds: As for the East th' illustrious King of Day, With rising Radiance drives the Shades away,

55 So Freedom comes array'd with Charms divine, And in her Train Commerce and Plenty shine. Britannia owns her Independent Reign, Hibernia, Scotia, and the Realms of Spain; And great Germania's ample Coast admires3

60 The generous Spirit that Columbia fires. Auspicious[Favorable] Heaven shall fill with fav'ring Gales[winds], Where e'er Columbia spreads her swelling Sails: To every Realm shall Peace her Charms display, And Heavenly Freedom spread her golden Ray.

                                                                                                               1 Hibernia: of Ireland 2 reference to the colonial defeat in the Battle of Bunker Hill (June 17, 1775) which demonstrated that relatively inexperienced colonial forces were willing and able to stand up to regular army 3 a listing of lands in which Britain has colonial power

 66   The  Speech  in  the  Virginia  Convention  

Speech in the Virginia Convention (1775)

Henry, Patrick. “Speech in the Virginia Convention.” History. Web. 10 July 2014.

<http://www.history.org/almanack/life/politics/giveme.cfm>. Patrick Henry (1736-1799) was elected to the

Virginia House of Burgesses and served as a member of the First Continental Congress. He would prove to be the rhetorical backbone of the American Revolution, crafting speeches on the spot, with no notes, that held equal amounts of verbal fire and reasoned accuracy. When the Second Virginia Convention met in 1775 in an attempt to discuss a compromise with the British, Henry presented his famous speech urging for an armed resistance to England, ultimately reinforcing the revolutionary spirit that led to the signing of the Declaration of Independence. His clear, concise cases for the necessity of the revolution and the primacy of individual liberty combined with his artful, inspiring method of delivery have made his speeches true American classics that endure to this day.

___

MR. PRESIDENT: No man thinks more highly than I do of the patriotism, as well as abilities, of the very worthy gentlemen who have just addressed the House. But different men often see the same subject in different lights; and, therefore, I hope it will not be thought disrespectful to those gentlemen if, entertaining as I do, opinions of a character very opposite to theirs, I shall speak forth my sentiments freely, and without reserve. This is no time for ceremony. The question before the House is one of awful moment[importance] to this country. For my own part, I consider it as nothing less than a question of freedom or slavery; and in proportion to the magnitude of the subject ought to be the freedom of the debate. It is only in this way that we can hope to arrive at truth, and fulfil the great responsibility which we hold to God and our country. Should I keep back my opinions at such a time, through fear of giving offence, I should consider myself as guilty of treason towards my country, and of an act of disloyalty toward the majesty of heaven, which I revere above all earthly kings.

Mr. President, it is natural to man to indulge in the illusions of hope. We are apt[quick] to shut our eyes against a painful truth, and listen to the song of that siren till she transforms us into beasts1. Is this the part of wise men, engaged in a great and arduous[difficult] struggle for liberty? Are we disposed to be of the number of those who, having eyes, see not, and, having ears, hear not2, the things which so nearly concern their temporal[earthly] salvation? For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth; to know the worst, and to provide for it.

                                                                                                               1 In Homer’s Odyssey the enchantress Circe transforms men into swine after charming them with her singing. 2 reference to Ezekiel 12:2

I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided; and that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging of the future but by the past. And judging by the past, I wish to know what there has been in the conduct of the British ministry for the last ten years, to justify those hopes with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace[comfort] themselves, and the House? Is it that insidious[sneaky] smile with which our petition has been lately received? Trust it not, sir; it will prove a snare[trap] to your feet. Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss.3 Ask yourselves how this gracious reception of our petition comports[agree] with these war-like preparations which cover our waters and darken our land. Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and reconciliation? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled, that force must be called in to win back our love? Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the implements of war and subjugation; the last arguments to which kings resort.

I ask, gentlemen, sir, what means this martial array[display], if its purpose be not to force us to submission? Can gentlemen assign any other possible motive for it? Has Great Britain any enemy, in this quarter of the world, to call for all this accumulation of navies and armies? No, sir, she has none. They are meant for us; they can be meant for no other. They are sent over to bind and rivet[fasten] upon us those chains which the British ministry have been so long forging.

And what have we to oppose to them? Shall we try argument? Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten years. Have we anything new to offer upon the subject? Nothing. We have held the subject up in every light of which it is capable; but it has been all in vain. Shall we resort to entreaty and humble supplication[appeal]? What terms shall we find which have not been already exhausted? Let us not, I beseech[beg] you, sir, deceive ourselves.

Sir, we have done everything that could be done, to avert the storm which is now coming on. We have petitioned; we have remonstrated; we have supplicated; we have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have implored its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of the ministry and Parliament. Our petitions have been slighted; our remonstrances[protests] have produced additional violence and insult; our supplications have been disregarded; and we have been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the throne. In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation. There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free, if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges for which we have been so long

                                                                                                               3 In Luke 22:47-48 Jesus is betrayed with a kiss.

  67  The  Speech  in  the  Virginia  Convention  

contending, if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained, we must fight! I repeat it, sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms and to the God of Hosts is all that is left us!

They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance, by lying supinely on our backs, and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot? Sir, we are not weak if we make a proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power. Three millions of people, armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us. Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just God who presides over the destinies of nations; and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; 1 it is to the vigilant[attentive], the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election[choice]. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery! Our chains are forged! Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston! The war is inevitable[unavoidable] and let it come! I repeat it, sir, let it come.

It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, “Peace, Peace”—but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale[blow] that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle[inactive]? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!

                                                                                                               1 “The race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong.” (Ecclesiastes 9:11)

 68   Speech  in  the  Convention  

Speech in the Convention (1787)

Franklin, Benjamin. “Speech in the Convention.” Prentice Hall Literature: The American Experience. 2005.

Monday, September 17, 1787, was the last day of the Constitutional Convention. Pennsylvania delegate Benjamin Franklin, one of the few Americans of the time with international repute, wanted to give a short speech to the Convention prior to the signing of the final draft of the Constitution. Too weak to actually give the speech himself, he had fellow Pennsylvanian James Wilson deliver the speech.

________

Mr. President: I confess that there are several parts of this

constitution which I do not at present approve, but I am not sure I shall never approve them: For having lived long, I have experienced many instances of being obliged by better information, or fuller consideration, to change opinions even on important subjects, which I once thought right, but found to be otherwise. It is therefore that the older I grow, the more apt I am to doubt my own judgment, and to pay more respect to the judgment of others. Most men indeed as well as most sects in Religion, think themselves in possession of all truth, and that wherever others differ from them it is so far error. […]

Though many private persons think almost as highly of their own infallibility[perfection] as of that of their sect, few express it so naturally as a certain French lady, who in a dispute with her sister, said "I don't know how it happens, Sister but I meet with no body but myself, that's always in the right — Il n'y a que moi qui a toujours raison."

In these sentiments, Sir, I agree to this Constitution with all its faults, if they are such; because I think a general Government necessary for us, and there is no form of Government but what may be a blessing to the people if well administered, and believe farther that this is likely to be well administered for a course of years, and can only end in despotism[tyranny], as other forms have done before it, when the people shall become so corrupted as to need despotic Government, being incapable of any other. I doubt too whether any other Convention we can obtain, may be able to make a better Constitution. For when you assemble a number of men to have the advantage of their joint wisdom, you inevitably assemble

with those men, all their prejudices, their passions, their errors of opinion, their local interests, and their selfish views. From such an assembly can a perfect production be expected? It therefore astonishes me, Sir, to find this system approaching so near to perfection as it does; and I think it will astonish our enemies, who are waiting with confidence to hear that our councils are confounded like those of the Builders of Babel; and that our States are on the point of separation, only to meet hereafter for the purpose of cutting one another's throats. Thus I consent, Sir, to this Constitution because I expect no better, and because I am not sure, that it is not the best. The opinions I have had of its errors, I sacrifice to the public good. I have never whispered a syllable of them abroad. Within these walls they were born, and here they shall die. If every one of us in returning to our Constituents were to report the objections he has had to it, and endeavor to gain Partisans[followers] in support of them, we might prevent its being generally received, and thereby lose all the salutary[helpful] effects and great advantages resulting naturally in our favor among foreign Nations as well as among ourselves, from our real or apparent unanimity[agreement]. Much of the strength and efficiency of any Government in procuring[obtaining] and securing happiness to the people, depends, on opinion, on the general opinion of the goodness of the Government, as well as of the wisdom and integrity of its Governors. I hope therefore that for our own sakes as a part of the people, and for the sake of posterity[future], we shall act heartily and unanimously in recommending this Constitution (if approved by Congress and confirmed by the Conventions) wherever our influence may extend, and turn our future thoughts and endeavors to the means of having it well administred.

On the whole, Sir, I can not help expressing a wish that every member of the Convention who may still have objections to it, would with me, on this occasion doubt a little of his own infallibility, and to make manifest[clear] our unanimity, put his name to this instrument.

  69  Letter  to  Her  Daughter  

Letter to Her Daughter from the New White House (1800)

Adams, Abigail. “Letter to Her Daughter from the New White House.” Prentice Hall Literature: The American Experience. 2005.

Abigail Adams (1744-1818) was the intelligent,

outspoken wife of John Adams, the second president of the United States. They were to become the first couple to live in the White House. At the time, the city of Washington consisted of a few public buildings and a scattered collection of crude residences. This letter to Adam’s daughter describes the unfinished White House and captures the essence of life in the new nation.

___

Washington, 21 November 1800

My Dear Child, I arrived here on Sunday last, and without meeting

with any accident worth noticing, except losing ourselves when we left Baltimore, and going eight or nine miles on the Frederick road, by which means we were obliged to go the other eight through woods, where we wandered two hours without finding a guide or the path. Fortunately, a straggling black came up with us, and we engaged him as a guide, to extricate[free] us out of our difficulty; but woods are all you see, from Baltimore until you reach the city, which is only so in name. Here and there is a small cot, without a glass window, interspersed among the forests, through which you travel miles without seeing any human being. In the city there are buildings enough, if they were compact and finished, to accommodate Congress and those attached to it; but as they are, and scattered as they are, I see not great comfort for them.

The river, which runs up to Alexandria1, is in full view of my window, and I see the vessels as they pass and repass. The house is upon a grand and superb scale, requiring about thirty servants to attend and keep the apartments in proper order, and perform the ordinary business of the house and stables; an establishment very well proportioned to the President's salary. The lighting the apartments, from the kitchen to parlors and chambers, is a tax indeed; and the fires we are obliged to keep to secure us from daily agues[fits of shivering] is another very cheering comfort. To assist us in this great castle, and render less attendance necessary, bells are wholly wanting, not one single one being hung through the whole house, and promises are all you can obtain. This is so great an inconvenience that I know not what to do, or how to do. The ladies from Georgetown2 and in the city have many of them visited me. Yesterday I returned fifteen visits—but such a place as Georgetown appears—why, our Milton is beautiful. But no comparisons—if they will

                                                                                                               1 Alexandria: city in northeastern Virginia 2 Georgetown: section of Washington, D.C.

put me up some bells, and let me have wood enough to keep fires, I design to be pleased.

I could content myself almost anywhere three months; but, surrounded with forests, can you believe that wood is not to be had, because people can not be found to cut and cart it! Briesler entered into a contract with a man to supply him with wood. A small part, a few cords only, has he been able to get. Most of that was expended to dry the walls of the house before we came in, and yesterday the man told him it was impossible for him to procure[obtain] it to be cut and carted. He has had recourse to coals; but we can not get grates made and set. We have, indeed, come into a new country.

You must keep all this to yourself, and when asked how I like it, say that I write you the situation is beautiful, which is true. The house is made habitable, but there is not a single apartment finished, and all withinside, except the plastering, has been done since Briesler came. We have not the least fence, yard, or other convenience, without, and the great unfinished audience-room I make a drying-room of, to hang up the clothes in. The principal stairs are not up, and will not be this winter. Six chambers are made comfortable; two are occupied by the President and Mr. Shaw; two lower rooms, one for a common parlor, and one for a levee-room. Upstairs there is the oval room, which is designed for the drawing-room, and has the crimson furniture in it. It is a very handsome room now; but, when completed it will be beautiful.

If the twelve years in which this place has been considered as the future seat of government had been improved, as they would have been if in New England, very many of the present inconveniences would have been removed. It is a beautiful spot, capable of every improvement, and, the more I view it the more I am delighted with it.

Since I sat down to write I have been called down to a servant from Mount Vernon,3 with a billet[brief letter] from Major Custis, and a haunch[leg and loin] of venison[deer meat], and a kind, congratulatory letter from Mrs. Lewis, upon my arrival in the city, with Mrs. Washington's love, inviting me to Mount Vernon, where, health permitting, I will go, before I leave this place.

Abigail Adams

                                                                                                               3 Mount Vernon: home of George Washington, located in northern Virginia

 70   Letters  from  an  American  Farmer  

from Letters from an American Farmer (1782)

Crèvecoeur, Michel Guillaume Jean de. “What is an American?” University of Virginia. Web. 10 July 2014.

<http://xroads.virginia.edu/~HYPER/CREV/letter03.html>.

Letter III: What is an American?

I wish I could be acquainted with the feelings and

thoughts which must agitate the heart and present themselves to the mind of an enlightened Englishman, when he first lands on this continent. He must greatly rejoice that he lived at a time to see this fair country discovered and settled; he must necessarily feel a share of national pride, when he views the chain of settlements which embellishes[decorate] these extended shores. When he says to himself, this is the work of my countrymen, who, when convulsed[shook] by factions[conflicting groups], afflicted by a variety of miseries and wants, restless and impatient, took refuge here. They brought along with them their national genius, to which they principally owe what liberty they enjoy, and what substance they possess. Here he sees the industry[productiveness] of his native country displayed in a new manner, and traces in their works the embryos of all the arts, sciences, and ingenuity which nourish in Europe. Here he beholds fair cities, substantial villages, extensive fields, an immense country filled with decent houses, good roads, orchards, meadows, and bridges, where an hundred years ago all was wild, woody, and uncultivated! […] He is arrived on a new continent; a modern society offers itself to his contemplation, different from what he had hitherto seen. It is not composed, as in Europe, of great lords who possess everything, and of a herd of people who have nothing. Here are no aristocratical[high-class] families, no courts, no kings, no bishops, no ecclesiastical[religious] dominion, no invisible power giving to a few a very visible one; no great manufacturers employing thousands, no great refinements of luxury. The rich and the poor are not so far removed from each other as they are in Europe […], all respecting the laws, without dreading their power, because they are equitable[fair]. We are all animated with the spirit of an industry which is unfettered[unchained] and unrestrained, because each person works for himself. […] We have no princes, for whom we toil, starve, and bleed: we are the most perfect society now existing in the world. Here man is free as he ought to be; nor is this pleasing equality so transitory as many others are. Many ages will not see the shores of our great lakes replenished with inland nations, nor the unknown bounds of North America entirely peopled. Who can tell how far it extends? Who can tell the millions of men whom it will feed and contain? for no European foot has as yet travelled half the extent of this mighty continent!

The next wish of this traveller will be to know whence came all these people? they are a mixture of English, Scotch, Irish, French, Dutch, Germans, and

Swedes. From this promiscuous[sexually indiscriminate] breed, that race now called Americans have arisen. […]

In this great American asylum[refuge], the poor of Europe have by some means met together, and in consequence of various causes; to what purpose should they ask one another what countrymen they are? Alas, two thirds of them had no country. Can a wretch who wanders about, who works and starves, whose life is a continual scene of sore affliction or pinching penury[poverty]; can that man call England or any other kingdom his country? A country that had no bread for him, whose fields procured him no harvest, who met with nothing but the frowns of the rich, the severity of the laws, with jails and punishments; who owned not a single foot of the extensive surface of this planet? No! urged by a variety of motives, here they came. Every thing has tended to regenerate them; new laws, a new mode of living, a new social system; here they are become men: in Europe they were as so many useless plants, wanting vegetative mold[enriched soil], and refreshing showers; they withered, and were mowed down by want, hunger, and war; but now by the power of transplantation, like all other plants they have taken root and flourished! Formerly they were not numbered in any civil lists of their country, except in those of the poor; here they rank as citizens. By what invisible power has this surprising metamorphosis[transformation] been performed? By that of the laws and that of their industry. The laws, the indulgent laws, protect them as they arrive, stamping on them the symbol of adoption; they receive ample rewards for their labours; these accumulated rewards procure them lands; those lands confer on them the title of freemen, and to that title every benefit is affixed which men can possibly require. This is the great operation daily performed by our laws. From whence proceed these laws? From our government. Whence the government? It is derived from the original genius and strong desire of the people ratified and confirmed by the crown. […]

What attachment can a poor European emigrant have for a country where he had nothing? The knowledge of the language, the love of a few kindred[relations] as poor as himself, were the only cords that tied him: his country is now that which gives him land, bread, protection, and consequence: Ubi panis ibi patria [“Where there is bread, there is one’s fatherland.”], is the motto of all emigrants. What then is the American, this new man? He is either an European, or the descendant of an European, hence that strange mixture of blood, which you will find in no other country. I could point out to you a family whose grandfather was an Englishman, whose wife was Dutch, whose son married a French woman, and whose present four sons have now four wives of different nations. He is

  71  Letters  from  an  American  Farmer  

an American, who, leaving behind him all his ancient prejudices and manners, receives new ones from the new mode of life he has embraced, the new government he obeys, and the new rank he holds. He becomes an American by being received in the broad lap of our great Alma Mater [“Fostering Mother.”]. Here individuals of all nations are melted into a new race of men, whose labours and posterity will one day cause great changes in the world. Americans are the western pilgrims1, who are carrying along with them that great mass of arts, sciences, vigour, and industry which began long since in the east; they will finish the great circle. The Americans were once scattered all over Europe; here they are incorporated into one of the finest systems of population which has ever appeared, and which will hereafter become distinct by the power of the different climates they inhabit. The American ought therefore to love this country much better than that wherein either he or his forefathers were born. Here the rewards of his industry follow with equal steps the progress of his labour; his labour is founded on the basis of nature, SELF-INTEREST: can it want a stronger allurement? Wives and children, who before in vain demanded of him a morsel of bread, now, fat and frolicsome[playful], gladly help their father to clear those fields whence exuberant[vibrant] crops are to arise to feed and to clothe them all; without any part being claimed, either by a despotic[unjust] prince, a rich abbot[religious figure], or a mighty lord.2 Here religion demands but little of him; a small voluntary salary to the minister, and gratitude to God; can he refuse these? The American is a new man, who acts upon new principles; he must therefore entertain new ideas, and form new opinions. From involuntary idleness[inactivity], servile[submissive] dependence, penury[poverty], and useless labour, he has passed to toils[work] of a very different nature, rewarded by ample subsistence[means of support].—This is an American.

                                                                                                               1 In the Middle East, where European civilization began, Mecca was known as a place of pilgrimage. By association, America is suggested to be the new center of civilization. 2 reference to feudalism, the social and economic system in Europe during the Middle Ages

 72   Remarks  Concerning  the  Savages  of  North  America  

from Information to Those Who Would Remove to America (1782)

Franklin, Benjamin. “Information to Those Who Would Remove to America.” University of Chicago. Web. 10 July 2014.

<http://press-pubs.uchicago.edu/founders/documents/v1ch15s27.html>.

Many Persons in Europe, having directly or by Letters, express'd to the Writer of this, who is well acquainted with North America, their Desire of transporting and establishing themselves in that Country; but who appear to have formed, thro' Ignorance, mistaken Ideas and Expectations of what is to be obtained there; he thinks it may be useful, and prevent inconvenient, expensive, and fruitless[unproductive] Removals and Voyages of improper Persons, if he gives some clearer and truer Notions of that part of the World, than appear to have hitherto prevailed.

He finds it is imagined by Numbers, that the Inhabitants of North America are rich, capable of rewarding, and dispos'd to reward, all sorts of Ingenuity[cleverness]; that they are at the same time ignorant of all the Sciences, and, consequently, that Strangers, possessing Talents in the Belles-Lettres[beautiful writing], fine Arts, &c., must be highly esteemed, and so well paid, as to become easily rich themselves; that there are also abundance of profitable Offices to be disposed of, which the Natives are not qualified to fill; and that, having few Persons of Family among them, Strangers of Birth must be greatly respected, and of course easily obtain the best of those Offices, which will make all their Fortunes; that the Governments too, to encourage Emigrations from Europe, not only pay the Expence of personal Transportation, but give Lands gratis[free] to Strangers, with Negroes to work for them, Utensils[tools] of Husbandry[farming], and Stocks of Cattle. These are all wild Imaginations; and those who go to America with Expectations founded upon them will surely find themselves disappointed.

The Truth is, that though there are in that Country few People so miserable as the Poor of Europe, there are also very few that in Europe would be called rich; it is rather a general happy Mediocrity that prevails. There are few great Proprietors of the Soil, and few Tenants; most People cultivate their own Lands, or follow some Handicraft or Merchandise; very few rich enough to live idly[lazily] upon their Rents or Incomes, or to pay the high Prices given in Europe for Paintings, Statues, Architecture, and the other Works of Art, that are more curious than useful. Hence the natural Geniuses, that have arisen in America with such Talents, have uniformly quitted that Country for Europe, where they can be more suitably rewarded. It is true, that Letters[Literary] and Mathematical Knowledge are in Esteem[high regard] there [America], but they are at the same time more common than is apprehended; there being already existing nine Colleges or Universities, […] all furnish'd with learned Professors; […] Of civil Offices, or Employments, there are few; no superfluous[excess] Ones, as in Europe; and it is

a Rule establish'd in some of the States, that no Office should be so profitable as to make it desirable. […]

These Ideas prevailing more or less in all the United States, it cannot be worth any Man's while, who has a means of Living at home, to expatriate[emigrate] himself, in hopes of obtaining a profitable civil Office in America; and, as to military Offices, they are at an End with the War, the Armies being disbanded. Much less is it adviseable for a Person to go thither[there], who has no other Quality to recommend him but his Birth. In Europe it has indeed its Value; but it is a Commodity that cannot be carried to a worse Market than that of America, where people do not inquire concerning a Stranger, What is he? but, What can he do? If he has any useful Art, he is welcome; and if he exercises it, and behaves well, he will be respected by all that know him; but a mere Man of Quality, who, on that Account, wants to live upon the Public, by some Office or Salary, will be despis'd and disregarded. The Husbandman[farmer] is in honor there, and even the Mechanic, because their Employments are useful. The People have a saying, that God Almighty is himself a Mechanic, the greatest in the Univers; and he is respected and admired more for the Variety, Ingenuity, and Utility of his Handyworks, than for the Antiquity of his Family. […]

With regard to Encouragements for Strangers from Government, they are really only what are derived from good Laws and Liberty. Strangers are welcome, because there is room enough for them all, and therefore the old Inhabitants are not jealous of them; the Laws protect them sufficiently, so that they have no need of the Patronage[support] of Great Men; and every one will enjoy securely the Profits of his Industry. But, if he does not bring a Fortune with him, he must work and be industrious to live. One or two Years' residence gives him all the Rights of a Citizen; but the government does not at present, whatever it may have done in former times, hire People to become Settlers, by Paying their Passages, giving Land, Negroes, Utensils, Stock, or any other kind of Emolument whatsoever. In short, America is the Land of Labour, and by no means […] [are] the streets […] pav'd with half-peck Loaves, the Houses til'd with Pancakes, and where the Fowls[hens] fly about ready roasted, crying, Come eat me! […]

  73  Remarks  Concerning  the  Savages  of  North  America  

from Remarks Concerning the Savages of North America (1784)

Franklin, Benjamin. “Remarks Concerning the Savages of North America.” Early Americas Digital Archive.

University of Maryland. Web. 10 July 2014. <http://mith.umd.edu/eada/html/display.php?docs=franklin_bagatelle3.xml>.

Savages we call them, because their Manners differ from ours, which we think the Perfection of Civility. They think the same of theirs.

Perhaps if we could examine the Manners of different Nations with Impartiality[fairness], we should find no People so rude as to be without Rules of Politeness, nor any so polite as not to have some Remains of Rudeness.

The Indian Men when young are Hunters and Warriors; when old, Counsellors; for all their Government is by Counsel of the Sages[elders]; there is no Force there are no Prisons, no Officers to compel Obedience, or inflict Punishment.—Hence they generally study Oratory[debate]; the best Speaker having the most Influence. The Indian Women till[work] the Ground, dress the Food, nurse and bring up the Children, and preserve and hand down to Posterity[future] the Memory of public Transactions. These Employments of Men and Women are accounted natural and honorable, Having few artificial Wants, they have abundance of Leisure for Improvement by Conversation. Our laborious Manner of Life compar’d with theirs, they esteem slavish and base[improper]; and the Learning on which we value ourselves, they regard as frivolous[silly] and useless.

An Instance of this occurr’d at the Treaty of Lancaster in Pensilvania, anno 1744, between the Government of Virginia and the Six Nations. After the principal Business was settled, the Commissioners from Virginia acquainted the Indians by a Speech, that there was at Williamsburg a College, with a Fund for Educating Indian youth; and that if the Six Nations would send down half a dozen of their young Lads to that College, the Government would take Care that they should be well provided for, and instructed in all the Learning of the White People. It is one of the Indian Rules of Politeness not to answer a public Proposition the same day that it is made; they think it would be treating it as a light matter, and that they show it Respect by taking time to consider it, as of a Matter important. They therefore deferr’d their Answer till the Day following; when their Speaker began by expressing their deep Sense of the Kindness of the Virginia Government in making them that Offer, for we know, says he, that you highly esteem the kind of Learning taught in those Colleges, and that the Maintenance of our young Men while with you, would be very expensive to you. We are convinc’d therefore that you mean to do us Good by your Proposal, and we thank you heartily. But you who are wise must know, that different Nations have different Conceptions of Things, and you will therefore not take it amiss[offensive] if our Ideas of this kind of Education happen not to be the same with yours. We have had some Experience of it: Several of our young People were formerly brought up at the Colleges of

the Northern Provinces; they were instructed in all your Sciences; but when they came back to us they were bad Runners ignorant of every means of living in the Woods, unable to bear either Cold or Hunger, knew neither how to build a Cabin, take a Deer or kill an Enemy, spoke our Language imperfectly, were therefore neither fit for Hunters Warriors, or Counsellors, they were totally good for nothing. We are however not the less oblig’d by your kind Offer tho’ we decline accepting it; and to show our grateful Sense of it, if the Gentlemen of Virginia will send us a Dozen of their Sons, we will take great Care of their Education, instruct them in all we know, and make Men of them.—

Having frequent Occasions to hold public Councils, they have acquired great Order and Decency in conducting them. The old Men sit in the foremost Ranks, the Warriors in the next, and the Women & Children in the hindmost. The Business of the Women is to take exact Notice of what passes, imprint it in their Memories, for they have no Writing, and communicate it to their Children. They are the Records of the Councils, and they preserve Traditions of the Stipulations in Treaties 100 Years back, which when we compare with our Writings we always find exact. He that would speak rises. The rest observe a profound Silence. When he has finish’d and sits down; they leave him 5 or 6 Minutes to recollect, that if he has omitted any thing he intended to say, or has any thing to add, he may rise again and deliver it. To interrupt another, even in common Conversation, is reckon’d highly indecent. How different this is, from the Conduct of a polite British House of Commons where scarce every person without some confusion, that makes the Speaker hoarse in calling to Order and how different from the Mode of Conversation in many polite Companies of Europe, where if you do not deliver your Sentence with great Rapidity, you are cut off in the middle of it by the Impatients Loquacity of those you converse with, and never suffer’d to finish it—

The Politeness of the Savages in Conversation is indeed carried to Excess, since it does not permit them to contradict or deny the Truth of what is asserted in their Presence; By this means they indeed avoid Disputes, but then it becomes difficult to know their Minds, or what Impression you make upon them. The Missionaries who have attempted to convert them to Christianity, all complain of this as one of the great difficulties of their Mission: The Indians hear with Patience the Truths of the Gospel explain’d to them, and give their usual Tokens of Assent[agreement] and Approbation[approval]: You would think they were convinc’d. No such Matter. It is mere Civility.

A Suedish Minister, having assembled the Chiefs of the Saquehanah Indians, made a Sermon to them,

 74   Remarks  Concerning  the  Savages  of  North  America  

acquainting them with the principal historical Facts on which our Religion is founded, such as the Fall of our first Parents by eating an Apple; the Coming of Christ, to repair the Mischief; his Miracles and Suffering, etc. When he had finished, an Indian Orator stood up to thank him. What you have told us, says he, is all very good. It is indeed a bad Thing to eat Apples. It is better to make them all into Cyder. We are much oblig’d by your Kindness in coming so far to tell us these Things which you have heard from your Mothers; in return I will tell you some of those we have heard from ours.

In the Beginning our Fathers had only the Flesh of Animals to subsist on, and if their Hunting was unsuccessful, they were starving. Two of our young Hunters having kill’d a Deer, made a Fire in the Woods to broil some Part of it. When they were about to satisfy their Hunger, they beheld a beautiful young Woman descend from the Clouds, and seat herself on that Hill which you see yonder among the blue Mountains. They said to each other, It is a Spirit that perhaps has smelt our broiling Venison[deer meat] and wishes to eat of it: Let us offer some to her. They presented her with the Tongue, She was pleas’d with the Taste of it, and said, Your Kindness shall be rewarded: Come to this Place after thirteen Moons, and you shall find something that will be of great Benefit in nourishing you and your Children to the latest Generations. They did so, and to their Surprise found Plants they had never seen before, but which from that antique time have been instantly cultivated among us to our great Advantage. Where her right Hand had touch’d the Ground they found Maize; Where her left hand had touch’d it, they found Kidney Beans, and where her Backside had rested on it, they found Tobacco.—

The good Missionary disgusted with this idle[useless] Tale, said, What I delivered to you were sacred Truths, but what you tell me is mere Fable, Fiction and Falshood. The Indian offended, reply’d, My Brother, it seems your Friends have not done you Justice in your Education, they have not well instructed you in the Rules of common Civility. You saw that we who understand and practise those Rules, believ’d all your Stories: Why do you refuse to believe ours?— […]

When any of them come into our Towns, our People are apt to croud round them, gaze upon them, and incommode[disturb] them where they desire to be private; this they esteem great Rudeness, the Effect of and Want of Instruction in the Rules of Civility and good Manners. We have, say they, as much Curiosity as you, and when you come into our Towns, we wish for Opportunities of looking at you; but for this purpose we hide our Selves behind Bushes where you are to pass, and never intrude ourselves into your Company.—

Their Manner of entring one anothers villages has likewise its Rules. It is reckon’d uncivil in travelling Strangers to enter a Village abruptly[suddenly], without giving Notice of their Approach. Therefore as soon as they arrive within Hearing, they stop and hollow, remaining there till invited to enter. Two old Men usually come out to them, and lead them in. There is in every

Village a vacant Dwelling called the Strangers House. Here they are plac’d, while the old Men go round from Hut to Hut, acquainting the Inhabitants that Strangers are arriv’d who are probably hungry and weary[tired]; and every one sends them what he can spare of Victuals and Skins to repose on. When the Strangers are refresh’d, Pipes & Tobacco are brought, and then, but not before, Conversation begins, with Enquiries who they are, whither bound, what News, etc. and it usually ends with Offers of Service if the Strangers have occasion of Guides or any Necessaries for continuing their Journey, and nothing is exacted for the Entertainment. […]

But if [a Native American goes] into a white Man’s House at Albany, and ask for Victuals[food] and Drink, they say, where is your Money? and if I have none; they say, Get out you Indian Dog. You see they have not yet learnt those little Good Things, that we need no Meetings to be instructed in, because our Mothers taught them to us when we were Children: And therefore, it is impossible their Meeting, Should be as they say, for any such purpose, or have any such Effect. They are only to contrive[bring about] the Cheating of Indians in the Price of Beaver.—

  75  Interesting  Narrative  of  Olaudah  Equiano  

from The Interesting Narrative of the Life of Olaudah Equiano (1789)

Equiano, Olaudah. “The Interesting Narrative of the Life of Olaudah Equiano, or Gustavus Vassa, The African.”

Gutenburg. Web. 10 July 2014. <http://www.gutenberg.org/files/15399/15399-h/15399-h.htm>.

Olaudah  Equiano (1745-1797), the son of an African tribal chief, was eleven years old when he and his sister were kidnapped from their home in West Africa and sold to British slave traders. Seperated from his sister, Equiano was taken first to the West Indies, then to Virginia. After ten years of slavery, he purchased his freedom and settled in England. Devoted to abolishing slavery, he published his autobiography The Interesting Narrative to publicize the plight of slaves, which contributed to the banning of the slave trade in both the United States and England.

In the first several chapters, Vassa describes how he and his sister were kidnapped from their home in West Africa by slave traders and transported to the African coast. During this six- or seven-month journey, Vassa was separated from his sister and held at a series of way stations. After reaching the coast, Vassa was shipped with other slaves to the New World. The following account describes this horrifying journey.

________ […] The first object which saluted my eyes when I

arrived on the coast was the sea, and a slave ship, which was then riding at anchor, and waiting for its cargo. These filled me with astonishment, which was soon converted into terror when I was carried on board. I was immediately handled and tossed up to see if I were sound by some of the crew; and I was now persuaded that I had gotten into a world of bad spirits, and that they were going to kill me. Their complexions too differing so much from ours, their long hair, and the language they spoke, (which was very different from any I had ever heard) united to confirm me in this belief. Indeed such were the horrors of my views and fears at the moment, that, if ten thousand worlds had been my own, I would have freely parted with them all to have exchanged my condition with that of the meanest slave in my own country. When I looked round the ship too and saw a large furnace or copper boiling, and a multitude of black people of every description chained together, every one of their countenances expressing dejection[depression] and sorrow, I no longer doubted of my fate; and, quite overpowered with horror and anguish, I fell motionless on the deck and fainted. […]

I was soon put down under the decks, and there I received such a salutation[greeting] in my nostrils as I had never experienced in my life: so that, with the loathsomeness[hateful] of the stench, and crying together, I became so sick and low that I was not able to eat, nor had I the least desire to taste any thing. I now wished for the last friend, death, to relieve me; but soon, to my grief, two of the white men offered me eatables; and, on my refusing

to eat, one of them held me fast by the hands, and laid me across I think the windlass, and tied my feet, while the other flogged[whipped] me severely. I had never experienced any thing of this kind before […].

I had never seen among any people such instances of brutal cruelty; and this not only shewn towards us blacks, but also to some of the whites themselves. One white man in particular I saw, when we were permitted to be on deck, flogged so unmercifully with a large rope near the foremast, that he died in consequence of it; and they tossed him over the side as they would have done a brute. […]

At last, when the ship we were in had got in all her cargo, they made ready with many fearful noises, and we were all put under deck, so that we could not see how they managed the vessel. But this disappointment was the least of my sorrow. The stench of the hold while we were on the coast was so intolerably loathsome, that it was dangerous to remain there for any time, and some of us had been permitted to stay on the deck for the fresh air; but now that the whole ship's cargo were confined together, it became absolutely pestilential[harmful]. The closeness of the place, and the heat of the climate, added to the number in the ship, which was so crowded that each had scarcely room to turn himself, almost suffocated us. This produced copious[abundant] perspirations, so that the air soon became unfit for respiration[breathing], from a variety of loathsome smells, and brought on a sickness among the slaves, of which many died, thus falling victims to the improvident[shortsighted] avarice[greed], as I may call it, of their purchasers. This wretched situation was again aggravated by the galling[annoyance] of the chains, now become insupportable; and the filth of the necessary tubs, into which the children often fell, and were almost suffocated. The shrieks of the women, and the groans of the dying, rendered the whole a scene of horror almost inconceivable. Happily perhaps for myself I was soon reduced so low here that it was thought necessary to keep me almost always on deck; and from my extreme youth I was not put in fetters[chains]. In this situation I expected every hour to share the fate of my companions, some of whom were almost daily brought upon deck at the point of death, which I began to hope would soon put an end to my miseries. Often did I think many of the inhabitants of the deep much more happy than myself. I envied them the freedom they enjoyed, and as often wished I could change my condition for theirs. Every circumstance I met with served only to render my state more painful, and heighten my apprehensions[anxieties], and my opinion of the cruelty of the whites.

One day they had taken a number of fishes; and when they had killed and satisfied themselves with as many as they thought fit, to our astonishment who were on the

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deck, rather than give any of them to us to eat as we expected, they tossed the remaining fish into the sea again, although we begged and prayed for some as well as we could, but in vain; and some of my countrymen, being pressed by hunger, took an opportunity, when they thought no one saw them, of trying to get a little privately; but they were discovered, and the attempt procured them some very severe floggings. One day, when we had a smooth sea and moderate wind, two of my wearied countrymen who were chained together (I was near them at the time), preferring death to such a life of misery, somehow made through the nettings and jumped into the sea: immediately another quite dejected[depressed] fellow, who, on account of his illness, was suffered to be out of irons, also followed their example; and I believe many more would very soon have done the same if they had not been prevented by the ship's crew, who were instantly alarmed. Those of us that were the most active were in a moment put down under the deck, and there was such a noise and confusion amongst the people of the ship as I never heard before, to stop her, and get the boat out to go after the slaves. However two of the wretches were drowned, but they got the other, and afterwards flogged him unmercifully for thus attempting to prefer death to slavery. In this manner we continued to undergo more hardships than I can now relate, hardships which are inseparable from this accursed trade. Many a time we were near suffocation from the want of fresh air, which we were often without for whole days together. This, and the stench of the necessary tubs, carried off many.

During our passage I first saw flying fishes, which surprised me very much: they used frequently to fly across the ship, and many of them fell on the deck. I also now first saw the use of the quadrant[navigation tool]; I had often with astonishment seen the mariners make observations with it, and I could not think what it meant. They at last took notice of my surprise; and one of them, willing to increase it, as well as to gratify my curiosity, made me one day look through it. The clouds appeared to me to be land, which disappeared as they passed along. This heightened my wonder; and I was now more persuaded than ever that I was in another world, and that every thing about me was magic. At last we came in sight of the island of Barbadoes, at which the whites on board gave a great shout, and made many signs of joy to us. We did not know what to think of this; but as the vessel drew nearer we plainly saw the harbour, and other ships of different kinds and sizes; and we soon anchored amongst them off Bridge Town1. Many merchants and planters now came on board, though it was in the evening. They put us in separate parcels[groups], and examined us attentively. They also made us jump, and pointed to the land, signifying we were to go there. We thought by this we should be eaten by these ugly men, as they appeared to us; and, when soon after we were all put down under the deck again, there was much dread and trembling among us, and nothing but bitter cries to be heard all the night

                                                                                                               1 Bridgetown: capital of Barbados

from these apprehensions, insomuch that at last the white people got some old slaves from the land to pacify[calm] us. They told us we were not to be eaten, but to work, and were soon to go on land, where we should see many of our country people. This report eased us much; and sure enough, soon after we were landed, there came to us Africans of all languages.

We were conducted immediately to the merchant's yard, where we were all pent up together like so many sheep in a fold, without regard to sex or age. […] We were not many days in the merchant's custody before we were sold after their usual manner, which is this:—On a signal given,(as the beat of a drum) the buyers rush at once into the yard where the slaves are confined, and make choice of that parcel they like best. The noise and clamour with which this is attended, and the eagerness visible in the countenances of the buyers, serve not a little to increase the apprehensions of the terrified Africans, who may well be supposed to consider them as the ministers of that destruction to which they think themselves devoted. In this manner, without scruple[hesitation], are relations and friends separated, most of them never to see each other again. I remember in the vessel in which I was brought over, in the men's apartment, there were several brothers, who, in the sale, were sold in different lots; and it was very moving on this occasion to see and hear their cries at parting.

O, ye nominal Christians! might not an African ask you, learned you this from your God, who says unto you, Do unto all men as you would men should do unto you? Is it not enough that we are torn from our country and friends to toil for your luxury and lust of gain? Must every tender feeling be likewise sacrificed to your avarice[greed]? Are the dearest friends and relations, now rendered more dear by their separation from their kindred, still to be parted from each other, and thus prevented from cheering the gloom of slavery with the small comfort of being together and mingling their sufferings and sorrows? Why are parents to lose their children, brothers their sisters, or husbands their wives? Surely this is a new refinement in cruelty, which, while it has no advantage to atone for it, thus aggravates distress, and adds fresh horrors even to the wretchedness of slavery. […]