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 these extended shores. When he says to himself,
this is the work of my countrymen, who, when convulsed by factions, 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 of his native country displayed in a new manner,
and traces in their works the embrios of all the arts, sciences, and ingenuity
which flourish 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! What a train of pleasing ideas this fair spectacle
must suggest; it is a prospect which must inspire a good citizen with
the most heartfelt pleasure. The difficulty consists in the manner of
viewing so extensive a scene. He is arrived on a new continent; a modern
society offers itself to his contemptation, different from what he had
hitherto seen. It is not composed, as in Europe, of great lords who possess
every thing and of a herd of people who have nothing. Here are no aristocratical
families, no courts, no kings, no bishops, no ecclesiastical 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. Some
few towns excepted, we are all tillers of the earth, from Nova Scotia
to West Florida. We are a people of cultivators, scattered over an immense
territory communicating with each other by means of good roads and navigable
rivers, united by the silken bands of mild government, all respecting
the laws, without dreading their power, because they are equitable. We
are all animated with the spirit of an industry which is unfettered and
unrestrained, because each person works for himself. If he travels through
our rural districts he views not the hostile castle, and the haughty mansion,
contrasted with the clay-built hut and miserable cabbin, where cattle
and men help to keep each other warm, and dwell in meanness, smoke, and
indigence. A pleasing uniformity of decent competence appears throughout
our habitations. The meanest of our log-houses is a dry and comfortable
habitation. Lawyer or merchant are the fairest titles our towns afford;
that of a farmer is the only appellation of the rural inhabitants of our
country. It must take some time ere he can reconcile himself to our dictionary,
which is but short in words of dignity, and names of honour. (There, on
a Sunday, he sees a congregation of respectable farmers and their wives,
all clad in neat homespun, well mounted, or riding in their own humble
waggons. There is not among them an esquire, saving the unlettered magistrate.
There he sees a parson as simple as his flock, a farmer who does not riot
on the labour of others. 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 mixture of English, Scotch, Irish, French, Dutch, Germans, and Swedes.
From this promiscuous breed, that race now called Americans have arisen.
The eastern provinces must indeed be excepted, as being the unmixed descendants
of Englishmen. I have heard many wish that they had been more intermixed
also: for my part, I am no wisher, and think it much better as it has
happened. They exhibit a most conspicuous figure in this great and variegated
picture; they too enter for a great share in the pleasing perspective
displayed in these thirteen provinces. I know it is fashionable to reflect
on them, but I respect them for what they have done; for the accuracy
and wisdom with which they have settled their territory; for the decency
of their manners; for their early love of letters; their ancient college,
the first in this hemisphere; for their industry; which to me who am but
a farmer, is the criterion of everything. There never was a people, situated
as they are, who with so ungrateful a soil have done more in so short
a time. Do you think that the monarchical ingredients which are more prevalent
in other governments, have purged them from all foul stains? Their histories
assert the contrary.
In this great
American asylum, 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; 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 vegitative mould, 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 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. This
is the great chain which links us all, this is the picture which every
province exhibits, Nova Scotia excepted. There the crown has done all;
either there were no people who had genius, or it was not much attended
to: the consequence is, that the province is very thinly inhabited indeed;
the power of the crown in conjunction with the musketos has prevented
men from settling there. Yet some parts of it flourished once, and it
contained a mild harmless set of people. But for the fault of a few leaders,
the whole were banished. The greatest political error the crown ever committed
in America, was to cut off men from a country which wanted nothing but
men!
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 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,
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 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. 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
pilgrims, 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,
gladly help their father to clear those fields whence exuberant crops
are to arise to feed and to clothe them all; without any part being claimed,
either by a despotic prince, a rich abbot, or a mighty lord. I lord 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, servile dependence, penury,
and useless labour, he has passed to toils of a very different nature,
rewarded by ample subsistence. --This is an American.
British America
is divided into many provinces, forming a large association, scattered
along a coast 1500 miles extent and about 200 wide. This society I would
fain examine, at least such as it appears in the middle provinces; if
it does not afford that variety of tinges and gradations which may be
observed in Europe, we have colours peculiar to ourselves. For instance,
it is natural to conceive that those who live near the sea, must be very
different from those who live in the woods; the intermediate space will
afford a separate and distinct class.
Men are like
plants; the goodness and flavour of the fruit proceeds from the peculiar
soil and exposition in which they grow. We are nothing but what we derive
from the air we breathe, the climate we inhabit, the government we obey,
the system of religion we profess, and the nature of our employment. Here
you will find but few crimes; these have acquired as yet no root among
us. I wish I were able to trace all my ideas; if my ignorance prevents
me from describing them properly, I hope I shall be able to delineate
a few of the outlines, which are all I propose.
Those who
live near the sea, feed more on fish than on flesh, and often encounter
that boisterous element. This renders them more bold and enterprising;
this leads them to neglect the confined occupations of the land. They
see and converse with a variety of people; their intercourse with mankind
becomes extensive. The sea inspires them with a love of traffic, a desire
of transporting produce from one place to another; and leads them to a
variety of resources which supply the place of labour. Those who inhabit
the middle settlements, by far the most numerous, must be very different;
the simple cultivation of the earth purifies them, but the indulgences
of the government, the soft remonstrances of religion, the rank of independent
freeholders, must necessarily inspire them with sentiments, very little
known in Europe among people of the same class. What do I say? Europe
has no such class of men; the early knowledge they acquire, the early
bargains they make, give them a great degree of sagacity. As freemen they
will be litigious; pride and obstinacy are often the cause of law suits;
the nature of our laws and governments may be another. As citizens it
is easy to imagine, that they will carefully read the newspapers, enter
into every political disquisition, freely blame or censure governors and
others. As farmers they will be careful and anxious to get as much as
they can, because what they get is their own. As northern men they will
love the chearful cup. As Christians, religion curbs them not in their
opinions; the general indulgence leaves every one to think for themselves
in spiritual matters; the laws inspect our actions, our thoughts are left
to God. Industry, good living, selfishness, litigiousness, country politics,
the pride of freemen, religious indifference, are their characteristics.
If you recede still farther from the sea, you will come into more modern
settlements; they exhibit the same strong lineaments, in a ruder appearance.
Religion seems to have still less influence, and their manners are less
improved.
Now we arrive
near the great woods, near the last inhabited districts; there men seem
to be placed still farther beyond the reach of government, which in some
measure leaves them to themselves. How can it pervade every corner; as
they were driven there by misfortunes, necessity of beginnings, desire
of acquiring large tracks of land, idleness, frequent want of economy,
ancient debts; the re-union of such people does not afford a very pleasing
spectacle. When discord, want of unity and friendship; when either drunkenness
or idleness prevail in such remote districts; contention, inactivity,
and wretchedness must ensue. There are not the same remedies to these
evils as in a long established community. The few magistrates they have,
are in general little better than the rest; they are often in a perfect
state of war; that of man against man, sometimes decided by blows, sometimes
by means of the law; that of man against every wild inhabitant of these
venerable woods, of which they are come to dispossess them. There men
appear to be no better than carnivorous animals of a superior rank, living
on the flesh of wild animals when they can catch them, and when they are
not able, they subsist on grain. He who wish to see America in its proper
light, and have a true idea of its feeble beginnings barbarous rudiments,
must visit our ex tended line of frontiers where the last settlers dwell,
and where he may see the first labours of the mode of clearing the earth,
in their different appearances; where men are wholly left dependent on
their native tempers, and on the spur of uncertain industry, which often
fails when not sanctified by the efficacy of a few moral rules. There,
remote from the power of example, and check of shame, many families exhibit
the most hideous parts of our society. They are a kind of forlorn hope,
preceding by ten or twelve years the most respectable army of veterans
which come after them. In that space, prosperity will polish some, vice
and the law will drive off the rest, who uniting again with others like
themselves will recede still farther; making room for more industrious
people, who will finish their improvements, convert the loghouse into
a convenient habitation, and rejoicing that the first heavy labours are
finished, will change in a few years that hitherto barbarous country into
a fine fertile, well regulated district. Such is our progress, such is
the march of the Europeans toward the interior parts of this continent.
In all societies there are off-casts; this impure part serves as our precursors
or pioneers; my father himself was one of that class, but he came upon
honest principles, and was therefore one of the few who held fast; by
good conduct and temperance, he transmitted to me his fair inheritance,
when not above one in fourteen of his contemporaries had the same good
fortune.
Forty years
ago this smiling country was thus inhabited; it is now purged, a general
decency of manners prevails throughout, and such has been the fate of
our best countries.
Exclusive
of those general characteristics, each province has its own, founded on
the government, climate, mode of husbandry, customs, and peculiarity of
circumstances. Europeans submit insensibly to these great powers, and
become, in the course of a few generations, not only Americans in general,
but either Pennsylvanians, Virginians, or provincials under some other
name. Whoever traverses the continent must easily observe those strong
differences, which will grow more evident in time. The inhabitants of
Canada, Massachusetts, the middle provinces, the southern ones will be
as different as their climates; their only points of unity will be those
of religion and language.
As I have
endeavoured to shew you how Europeans become Americans; it may not be
disagreeable to shew you likewise how the various Christian sects introduced,
wear out, and how religious indifference becomes prevalent. When any considerable
number of a particular sect happen to dwell contiguous to each other,
they immediately erect a temple, and there worship the Divinity agreeably
to their own peculiar ideas. Nobody disturbs them. If any new sect springs
up in Europe, it may happen that many of its professors will come and
settle in America. As they bring their zeal with them, they are at liberty
to make proselytes if they can, and to build a meeting and to follow the
dictates of their consciences; for neither the government nor any other
power interferes. If they are peaceable subjects, and are industrious,
what is it to their neighbours how and in what manner they think fit to
address their prayers to the Supreme Being? But if the sectaries are not
settled close together, if they are mixed with other denominations, their
zeal will cool for want of fuel, and will be extinguished in a little
time. Then the Americans become as to religion, what they are as to country,
allied to all. In them the name of Englishman, Frenchman, and European
is lost, and in like manner, the strict modes of Christianity as practised
in Europe are lost also. This effect will extend itself still farther
hereafter, and though this may appear to you as a strange idea, yet it
is a very true one. I shall be able perhaps hereafter to explain myself
better, in the meanwhile, let the following example serve as my first
justification.
Let us suppose
you and I to be travelling; we observe that in this house, to the right,
lives a Catholic, who prays to God as he has been taught, and believes
in transubstantion; he works and raises wheat, he has a large family of
children, all hale and robust; his belief, his prayers offend nobody.
About one mile farther on the same road, his next neighbour may be a good
honest plodding German Lutheran, who addresses himself to the same God,
the God of all, agreeably to the modes he has been educated in, and believes
in consubstantiation; by so doing he scandalizes nobody; he also works
in his fields, embellishes the earth, clears swamps, &c. What has the
world to do with his Lutheran principles? He persecutes nobody, and nobody
persecutes him, he visits his neighbours, and his neighbours visit him.
Next to him lives a seceder, the most enthusiastic of all sectaries; his
zeal is hot and fiery, but separated as he is from others of the same
complexion, he has no congregation of his own to resort to, where he might
cabal and mingle religious pride with worldly obstinacy. He likewise raises
good crops, his house is handsomely painted, his orchard is one of the
fairest in the neighbourhood. How does it concern the welfare of the country,
or of the province at large, what this man's religious sentiments are,
or really whether he has any at all? He is a good farmer, he is a sober,
peaceable, good citizen: William Penn himself would not wish for more.
This is the visible character, the invisible one is only guessed at, and
is nobody's business. Next again lives a Low Dutchman, who implicitly
believes the rules laid down by the synod of Dort. He conceives no other
idea of a clergyman than that of an hired man; if he does his work well
he will pay him the stipulated sum; if not he will dismiss him, and do
without his sermons, and let his church be shut up for years. But notwithstanding
this coarse idea, you will find his house and farm to be the neatest in
all the country; and you will judge by his waggon and fat horses, that
he thinks more of the affairs of this world than of those of the next.
He is sober and laborious, therefore he is all he ought to be as to the
affairs of this life; as for those of the next, he must trust to the great
Creator. Each of these people instruct their children as well as they
can, but these instructions are feeble compared to those which are given
to the youth of the poorest class in Europe. Their children will therefore
grow up less zealous and more indifferent in matters of religion than
their parents. The foolish vanity, or rather the fury of making Proselytes,
is unknown here; they have no time, the seasons call for all their attention,
and thus in a few years, this mixed neighbourhood will exhibit a strange
religious medley, that will be neither pure Catholicism nor pure Calvinism.
A very perceptible indifference even in the first generation, will become
apparent; and it may happen that the daughter of the Catholic will marry
the son of the seceder, and settle by themselves at a distance from their
parents. What religious education will they give their children? A very
imperfect one. If there happens to be in the neighbourhood any place of
worship, we will suppose a Quaker's meeting; rather than not shew their
fine clothes, they will go to it, and some of them may perhaps attach
themselves to that society. Others will remain in a perfect state of indifference;
the children of these zealous parents will not be able to tell what their
religious principles are, and their grandchildren still less. The neighborhood
of a place of worship generally leads them to it, and the action of going
thither, is the strongest evidence they can give of their attachment to
any sect. The Quakers are the only people who retain a fondness for their
own mode of worship; for be they ever so far separated from each other,
they hold a sort of communion with the society, and seldom depart from
its rules, at least in this country. Thus all sects are mixed as well
as all nations; thus religious indifference is imperceptibly disseminated
from one end of the continent to the other; which is at present one of
the strongest characteristics of the Americans. Where this will reach
no one can tell, perhaps it may leave a vacuum fit to receive other systems.
Persecution, religious pride, the love of contradiction, are the food
of what the world commonly calls religion. These motives have ceased here:
zeal in Europe is confined; here it evaporates in the great distance it
has to travel; there it is a grain of powder inclosed, here it burns away
in the open air, and consumes without effect.
But to return
to our back settlers. I must tell you, that there is something in the
proximity of the woods, which is very singular. It is with men as it is
with the plants and animals that grow and live in the forests; they are
entirely different from those that live in the plains. I will candidly
tell you all my thoughts but you are not to expect that I shall advance
any reasons. By living in or near the woods, their actions are regulated
by the wildness of the neighbourhood. The deer often come to eat their
grain, the wolves to destroy their sheep, the bears to kill their hogs,
the foxes to catch their poultry. This surrounding hostility, immediately
puts the gun into their hands; they watch these animals, they kill some;
and thus by defending their property, they soon become professed hunters;
this is the progress; once hunters, farewell to the plough. The chase
renders them ferocious, gloomy, and unsociable; a hunter wants no neighbour,
he rather hates them, because he dreads the competition. In a little time
their success in the woods makes them neglect their tillage. They trust
to the natural fecundity of the earth, and therefore do little; carelessness
in fencing, often exposes what little they sow to destruction; they are
not at home to watch; in order therefore to make up the deficiency, they
go oftener to the woods. That new mode of life brings along with it a
new set of manners, which I cannot easily describe. These new manners
being grafted on the old stock, produce a strange sort of lawless profligacy,
the impressions of which are indelible. The manners of the Indian natives
are respectable, compared with this European medley. Their wives and children
live in sloth and inactivity; and having no proper pursuits, you may judge
what education the latter receive. Their tender minds have nothing else
to contemplate but the example of their parents; like them they grow up
a mongrel breed, half civilized, half savage, except nature stamps on
them some constitutional propensities. That rich, that voluptuous sentiment
is gone that struck them so forcibly; the possession of their freeholds
no longer conveys to their minds the same pleasure and pride. To all these
reasons you must add, their lonely situation, and you cannot imagine what
an effect on manners the great distances they live from each other has
I Consider one of the last settlements in it's first view: of what is
it composed ? Europeans who have not that sufficient share of knowledge
they ought to have, in order to prosper; people who have suddenly passed
from oppression, dread of government, and fear of laws, into the unlimited
freedom of the woods. This sudden change must have a very great effect
on most men, and on that class particularly. Eating of wild meat, what
ever you may think, tends to alter their temper though all the proof I
can adduce, is, that I have seen it: and having no place of worship to
resort to, what little society this might afford, is denied them. The
Sunday meetings, exclusive of religious benefits, were the only social
bonds that might have inspired them with some degree of emulation in neatness.
Is it then surprising to see men thus situated, immersed in great and
heavy labours, degenerate a little? It is rather a wonder the effect is
not more diffusive. The Moravians and the Quakers are the only instances
in exception to what I have advanced. The first never settle singly, it
is a colony of the society which emigrates; they carry with them their
forms, worship, rules, and decency: the others never begin so hard, they
are always able to buy improvements, in which there is a great advantage,
for by that time the country is recovered from its first barbarity. Thus
our bad people are those who are half cultivators and half hunters; and
the worst of them are those who have degenerated altogether into the hunting
state. As old ploughmen and new men of the woods, as Europeans and new
made Indians, they contract the vices of both; they adopt the moroseness
and ferocity of a native, without his mildness, or even his industry at
home. If manners are not refined, at least they are rendered simple and
inoffensive by tilling the earth; all our wants are supplied by it, our
time is divided between labour and rest, and leaves none for the commission
of great misdeeds. As hunters it is divided between the toil of the chase,
the idleness of repose, or the indulgence of inebriation Hunting is but
a licentious idle life, and if it does not always pervert good dispositions;
yet, when it is united with bad luck, it leads to want: want stimulates
that propensity to rapacity and injustice, too natural to needy men, which
is the fatal gradation. After this explanation of the effects which follow
by living in the woods, shall we yet vainly flatter ourselves with the
hope of converting the Indians? We should rather begin with converting
our back-settlers; and now if I dare mention the name of religion, its
sweet accents would be lost in the immensity of these woods. Men thus
placed, are not fit either to receive or remember its mild instructions;
they want temples and ministers, but as soon as men cease to remain at
home, and begin to lead an erratic life, let them be either tawny or white,
they cease to be its disciples.
Thus have
I faintly and imperfectly endeavoured to trace our society from the sea
to our woods ! Yet you must not imagine that every person who moves back,
acts upon the same principles, or falls into the same degeneracy. Many
families carry with them all their decency of conduct, purity of morals,
and respect of religion; but these are scarce, the power of example is
sometimes irresistible. Even among these back-settlers, their depravity
is greater or less, according to what nation or province they belong.
Were I to adduce proofs of this, I might be accused of partiality. If
there happens to be some rich intervals, some fertile bottoms, in those
remote districts, the people will there prefer tilling the land to hunting,
and will attach themselves to it; but even on these fertile spots you
may plainly perceive the inhabitants to acquire a great degree of rusticity
and selfishness.
It is in
consequence of this straggling situation, and the astonishing power it
has on manners, that the back-settlers of both the Carolinas, Virginia,
and many other parts, have been long a set of lawless people; it has been
even dangerous to travel among them. Government can do nothing in so extensive
a country, better it should wink at these irregularities, than that it
should use means inconsistent with its usual mildness. Time will efface
those stains: in proportion as the great body of population approaches
them they will reform, and become polished and subordinate. Whatever has
been said of the four New England provinces, no such degeneracy of manners
has ever tarnished their annals; their back-settlers have been kept within
the bounds of decency, and government, by means of wise laws, and by the
influence of religion. What a detestable idea such people must have given
to the natives of the Europeans They trade with them, the worst of people
are permitted to do that which none but persons of the best characters
should be employed in. They get drunk with them, and often defraud the
Indians. Their avarice, removed from the eyes of their superiors, knows
no bounds; and aided by a little superiority of knowledge, these traders
deceive them, and even sometimes shed blood. Hence those shocking violations,
those sudden devastations which have so often stained our frontiers, when
hundreds of innocent people have been sacrificed for the crimes of a few.
It was in consequence of such behaviour, that the Indians took the hatchet
against the Virginians in 1774. Thus are our first steps trod, thus are
our first trees felled, in general, by the most vicious of our people
and thus the path is opened for the arrival of a second and better class,
the true American freeholders; the most respectable set of people in this
part of the world: respectable for their industry, their happy independence,
the great share of freedom they possess, the good regulation of their
families, and for extending the trade and the dominion of our mother country.
Europe contains
hardly any other distinctions but lords and tenants; this fair country
alone is settled by freeholders, the possessors of the soil they cultivate,
members of the government they obey, and the framers of their own laws,
by means of their representatives. This is a thought which you have taught
me to cherish; our difference from Europe, far from diminishing, rather
adds to our usefulness and consequence as men and subjects. Had our forefathers
remained there, they would only have crowded it, and perhaps prolonged
those convulsions which had shook it so long. Every industrious European
who transports himself here may be compared to a sprout growing at the
foot of a great tree; it enjoys and draws but a little portion of sap;
wrench it from the parent roots, transplant it, and it will become a tree
bearing fruit also. Colonists are therefore entitled to the consideration
due to the most useful subjects; a hundred families barely existing in
some parts of Scotland, will here in six years, cause an annual exportation
of 10,000 bushels of wheat: 100 bushels being but a common quantity for
an industrious family to sell, if they cultivate good land. It is here
then that the idle may be employed, the useless be- come useful, and the
poor become rich; but by riches I do not mean gold and silver, we have
but little of those metals; I mean a better sort of wealth, cleared lands,
cattle, good houses, good cloaths, and an increase of people to enjoy
them.
It is no
wonder that this country has so many charms, and presents to Europeans
so many temptations to remain in it. A traveller in Europe becomes a stranger
as soon as he quits his own kingdom; but it is otherwise here. We know,
properly speaking, no strangers; this is every person's country; the variety
of our soils, situations, climates, governments, and produce, hath something
which must please every body. No sooner does an European arrive, no matter
of what condition, than his eyes are opened upon the fair prospect; he
hears his language spoke, he retraces many of his own country manners,
he perpetually hears the names of families and towns with which he is
acquainted; he sees happiness and prosperity in all places disseminated;
he meets with hospitality, kindness, and plenty every where; he beholds
hardly any poor, he seldom hears of punishments and executions; and he
wonders at the elegance of our towns, those miracles of industry and freedom.
He cannot admire enough our rural districts, our convenient roads, good
taverns, and our many accommodations; he involuntarily loves a country
where every thing is so lovely. When in England, he was a mere Englishman;
here he stands on a larger portion of the globe, not less than its fourth
part, and may see the productions of the north, in iron and naval stores;
the provisions of Ireland, the grain of Egypt, the indigo, the rice of
China. He does not find, as in Europe, a crouded society, where every
place is over-stocked; he does not feel that perpetual collision of parties,
that difficulty of beginning, that contention which oversets so many.
There is room for every body in America; has he any particular talent,
or industry? he exerts it in order to procure a livelihood, and it succeeds.
Is he a merchant? the avenues of trade are infinite; is he eminent in
any respect? he will be employed and respected. Does he love a country
life ? pleasant farms present them- selves; he may purchase what he wants,
and thereby become an American farmer. Is he a labourer, sober and industrious?
he need not go many miles, nor receive many informations before he will
be hired, well fed at the table of his employer, and paid four or five
times more than he can get in Europe. Does he want uncultivated lands?
Thousands of acres present themselves, which he may purchase cheap. Whatever
be his talents or inclinations, if they are moderate, he may satisfy them.
I do not mean that every one who comes will grow rich in a little time;
no, but he may procure an easy, decent maintenance, by his industry. Instead
of starving he will be fed, instead of being idle he will have employment;
and these are riches enough for such men as come over here. The rich stay
in Europe, it is only the middling and the poor that emigrate. Would you
wish to travel in independent idleness, from north to south, you will
find easy access, and the most chearful reception at every house; society
without ostentation, good cheer without pride, and every decent diversion
which the country affords, with little expence. It is no wonder that the
European who has lived here a few years, is desirous to remain; Europe
with all its pomp, is not to be compared to this continent, for men of
middle stations, or labourers.
An European,
when he first arrives, seems limited in his intentions, as well as in
his views; but he very suddenly alters his scale; two hundred miles formerly
appeared a very great distance, it is now but a trifle; he no sooner breathes
our air than he forms schemes, and embarks in designs he never would have
thought of in his own country. There the plenitude of society confines
many useful ideas, and often extinguishes the most laudable schemes which
here ripen into maturity. Thus Europeans become Americans.
But how is
this accomplished in that croud of low, indigent people, who flock here
every year from all parts of Europe? I will tell you; they no sooner arrive
than they immediately feel the good effects of that plenty of provisions
we possess: they fare on our best food, and are kindly entertained; their
talents, character, and peculiar industry are immediately inquired into;
they find countrymen everywhere disseminated, let them come from whatever
part of Europe. Let me select one as an epitome of the rest; he is hired,
he goes to work, and works moderately; instead of being employed by a
haughty person, he finds himself with his equal, placed at the substantial
table of the farmer, or else at an inferior one as good; his wages are
high, his bed is not like that bed of sorrow on which he used to lie:
if he behaves with propriety, and is faithful, he is caressed, and becomes
as it were a member of the family. He begins to feel the effects of a
sort of resurrection; hitherto he had not lived, but simply vegetated;
he now feels himself a man, because he is treated as such; the laws of
his own country had overlooked him in his in- significancy; the laws of
this cover him with their mantle. Judge what an alteration there must
arise in the mind and thoughts of this man; he begins to forget his former
servitude and dependence, his heart involuntarily swells and glows; this
first swell inspires him with those new thoughts which constitute an American.
What love can he entertain for a country where his existence was a burthen
to him; if he s a generous good man, the love of this new adoptive parent
will sink deep into his heart. He looks around, and sees many a prosperous
person, who but a few years before was as poor as himself. This encourages
him much, he begins to form some little scheme, the first, alas, he ever
formed in his life. If he is wise he thus spends two or three years, in
which time he acquires knowledge, the use of tools, the modes of working
the lands, felling trees, &c. This prepares the foundation of a good name,
the most useful acquisition he can make. He is encouraged, he has gained
friends; he is advised and directed, he feels bold, he purchases some
land; he gives all the money he has brought over, as well as what he has
earned, and trusts to the God of harvests for the discharge of the rest.
His good name procures him credit. He is now possessed of the deed, conveying
to him and his posterity the fee simple and absolute property of two hundred
acres of land, situated on such a river. What an epocha in this man's
life! He is become a freeholder, from perhaps a German boor--he is now
an American, a Pennsylvanian, an English subject. He is naturalized, his
name is enrolled with those of the other citizens of the province. Instead
of being a vagrant, he has a place of residence; he is called the inhabitant
of such a county, or of such a district, and for the first time in his
life counts for something; for hitherto he has been a her. I only repeat
what I have heard man say, and no wonder their hearts should glow, and
be agitated with a multitude of feelings, not easy to describe. From nothing
to start into being; from a servant to the rank of a master; from being
the slave of some despotic prince, to become a free man, invested with
lands, to which every municipal blessing is annexed! What a change indeed!
It is in con- sequence of that change that he becomes an American. This
great metamorphosis has a double effect, it extinguishes all his European
prejudices, he forgets that mechanism of subordination, that servility
of disposition which poverty had taught him; and sometimes he is apt to
forget too much, often passing from one extreme to the other. If he is
a good man, he forms schemes of future prosperity, he proposes to educate
his children better than he has been educated himself; he thinks of future
modes of conduct, feels an ardor to labour he never felt before. Pride
steps in and leads him to every thing that the laws do not forbid: he
respects them; with a heartfelt gratitude he looks toward the east, toward
that insular government from whose wisdom all his new felicity is derived,
and under whose wings and protection he now lives. These reflections constitute
him the good man and the good subject. Ye poor Europeans, ye, who sweat,
and work for the great---ye, who are obliged to give so many sheaves to
the church, so many to your lords, so many to your government, and have
hardly any left for yourselves--ye, who are held in less estimation than
favourite hunters or useless lap-dogs--ye, who only breathe the air of
nature, because it cannot be withheld from you; it is here that ye can
conceive the possibility of those feelings I have been describing; it
is here the laws of naturalization invite every one to partake of our
great labours and felicity, to till unrented untaxed lands! Many, corrupted
beyond the power of amendment, have brought with them all their vices,
and disregarding the advantages held to them, have gone on in their former
career of iniquity, until they have been overtaken and punished by our
laws It is not every emigrant who succeeds; no, it is only the sober,
the honest, and industrious: happy those to whom this transition has served
as a powerful spur to labour, to prosperity, and to the good establishment
of children, born in the days of their poverty; and who had no other portion
to expect but the rags of their parents, had it not been for their happy
emigration. Others again, have been led astray by this enchanting scene;
their new pride, instead of leading them to the fields, has kept them
in idleness; the idea of possessing lands is all that satisfies them--though
surrounded with fertility, they have mouldered away their time in inactivity,
misinformed husbandry, and ineffectual endeavours. How much wiser, in
general, the honest Germans than almost all other Europeans; they hire
themselves to some of their wealthy landsmen, and in that apprenticeship
learn every thing that is necessary. They attentively consider the prosperous
industry of others, which imprints in their minds a strong desire of possessing
the same advantages. This forcible idea never quits them, they launch
forth, and by dint of sobriety, rigid parsimony, and the most persevering
industry, they commonly succeed. Their astonishment at their first arrival
from Germany is very great--it is to them a dream; the contrast must be
powerful indeed they observe their countrymen flourishing in every place;
they travel through whole counties where not a word of English is spoken;
and in the names and the language of the people, they retrace Germany.
They have been an useful acquisition to this continent, and to Pennsylvania
in particular; to them it owes some share of its prosperity: to their
mechanical knowledge and patience, it owes the finest mills in all America,
the best teams of horses, and many other advantages. The recollection
of their former poverty and slavery never quits them as long as they live.
The Scotch
and the Irish might have lived in their own country perhaps as poor, but
enjoying more civil advantages, the effects of their new situation do
not strike them so forcibly, nor has it so lasting an effect. From whence
the difference arises I know not, but out of twelve families of emigrants
of each country, generally seven Scotch will succeed, nine German, and
four Irish. The Scotch are frugal and laborious, but their wives cannot
work so hard as German women, who on the contrary vie with their husbands,
and often share with them the most severe toils of the field, which they
understand better. They have therefore nothing to struggle against, but
the common casualties of nature. The Irish do not prosper so well; they
love to drink and to quarrel; they are litigious, and soon take to the
gun, which is the ruin of every thing; they seem beside to labour under
a greater degree of ignorance in husbandry than the others; perhaps it
is that their industry had less scope, and was less exercised at home.
I have heard many relate, how the land was parcelled out in that kingdom;
their ancient conquest has been a great detriment to them, by oversetting
their landed property. The lands possessed by a few, are leased down ad
infinitum, and the occupiers often pay five guineas an acre. The poor
are worse lodged there than any where else in Europe; their potatoes,
which are easily raised, are perhaps an inducement to laziness: their
ages are too low and their whisky too cheap.
There is
no tracing observations of this kind, without making at the same time
very great allowances, as there are every where to be found, a great many
exceptions. The Irish themselves, from different parts of that kingdom,
are very different. It is difficult to account for this surprising locality,
one would think on so small an island an Irishman must be an Irishman:
yet it is not so, they are different in their aptitude to, and in their
love of labour.
The Scotch
on the contrary are all industrious and saving; they want nothing more
than a field to exert themselves in, and they are commonly sure of succeeding.
The only difficulty they labour under is, that technical American knowledge
which requires some time to obtain; it is not easy for those who seldom
saw a tree, to conceive how it is to be felled, cut up, and split into
rails and posts.
As I am fond
of seeing and talking of prosperous families, I intend to finish this
letter by relating to you the history of an honest Scotch Hebridean, who
came here in I774, which will shew you in epitome, what the Scotch can
do, wherever they have room for the exertion of their industry. Whenever
I hear of any new settlement, I pay it a visit once or twice a year, on
purpose to observe the different steps each settler takes, the gradual
improvements, the different tempers of each family, on which their prosperity
in a great nature depends; their different modifications of industry,
their ingenuity, and contrivance; for being all poor, their life requires
sagacity and prudence. In an evening I love to hear them tell their stories,
they furnish me with new ideas; I sit still and listen to their ancient
misfortunes, observing in many of them a strong degree of gratitude to
God, and the government. Many a well meant sermon have I preached to some
of them. When I found laziness and inattention to prevail, who could refrain
from wishing well to these new country men after having undergone so many
fatigues. Who could withhold good advice? What a happy change it must
be, to descend from the high, sterile, bleak lands of Scotland, where
every thing is barren and cold, to rest on some fertile farms in these
middle provinces! Such a transition must have afforded the most pleasing
satisfaction.
The following
dialogue passed at an outsettlement, where I lately paid a visit:
"Well,
friend, how do you do now; I am come fifty odd miles on purpose to see
you; how do you go on with your new cutting and slashing?" "Very
well, good Sir, we learn the use of the axe bravely, we shall make it
out; we have a belly full of victuals every day, our cows run about, and
come home full of milk, our hogs get fat of themselves in the woods: Oh,
this is a good country ! God bless the king, and William Penn; we shall
do very well by and by, if we keep our healths." "Your loghouse
looks neat and light, where did you get these shingles?" "One
of our neighbours is a New England man, and he shewed us how to split
them out of chestnut trees. Now for a barn, but all in good time, here
are fine trees to build with." "Who is to frame it, sure you
don't understand that work yet?" "A countryman of ours who has
been in America these ten years, offers to wait for his money until the
second crop is lodged in it." "What did you give for your land?"
"Thirty-five shillings per acre, payable in seven years." "How
many acres have you got?" "An hundred and fifty." "That
is enough to begin with; is not your land pretty hard to clear?"
"Yes, Sir, hard enough, but it would be harder still if it was ready
cleared, for then we should have no timber, and I love the woods much;
the land is nothing without them." "Have not you found out any
bees yet?" "No, Sir; and if we had we should not know what to
do with them." "I will tell you by and by." "You are
very kind." "Farewell, honest man, God prosper you; whenever
you travel toward **, enquire for J. S. he will entertain you kindly,
provided you bring him good tidings from your family and farm."
In this manner
I often visit them, and carefully examine their houses, their modes of
ingenuity, their different ways; and make them all relate all they know,
and describe all they feel. These are scenes which I believe you would
willingly share with me. I well remember your philanthropic turn of mind.
Is it not better to contemplate under these humble roofs, the rudiments
of future wealth and population, than to behold the accumulated bundles
of litigious papers in the office of a lawyer? To examine how the world
is gradually settled, how the howling swamp is converted into a pleasing
meadow, the rough ridge into a fine field; and to hear the chearful whistling,
the rural song, where there was no sound heard before, save the yell of
the savage, the screech of the owl, or the hissing of the snake? Here
an European, fatigued with luxury, riches, and pleasures, may find a sweet
relaxation in a series of interesting scenes, as affecting as they are
new. England, which now contains so many domes, so many castles, was once
like this; a place woody and marshy; its inhabitants, now the favourite
nation for arts and commerce, were once painted like our neighbours. The
country will flourish in its turn, and the same observations will be made
which I have just delineated. Posterity will look back with avidity and
pleasure, to trace, if possible, the era of this or that particular settlement.
Pray, what
is the reason that the Scots are in general more religious, more faithful,
more honest, and industrious than the Irish? I do not mean to insinuate
national reflections, God forbid ! It ill becomes any man, and much less
an American; but as I know men are nothing of themselves, and that they
owe all their different modifications either to government or other local
circumstances, there must be some powerful causes which constitute this
great national difference.
Agreeable
to the account which severale Scotchmen have given me of the north of
Britain, of the Orkneys, and the Hebride Islands, they seem, on many accounts,
to be unfit for the habitation of men; they appear to be calculated only
for great sheep pastures. Who then can blame the inhabitants of these
countries for transporting themselves hither? This great continent must
in time absorb the poorest part of Europe; and this will happen in proportion
as it becomes better known; and as war, taxation, oppression, and misery
increase there. The Hebrides appear to be fit only for the residence of
malefactors, and it would be much better to send felons there than either
to Virginia or Maryland. What a strange compliment has our mother country
paid to two of the finest provinces in America! England has entertained
in that respect very mistaken ideas; what was intended as a punishment,
is become the good fortune of several; many of those who have been transported
as felons, are now rich, and strangers to the stings of those wants that
urged them to violations of the law: they are become industrious, exemplary,
and useful citizens. The English government should purchase the most northern
and barren of those islands; it should send over to us the honest, primitive
Hebrideans, settle them here on good lands, as a reward for their virtue
and ancient poverty; and replace them with a colony of her wicked sons.
The severity of the climate, the inclemency of the seasons, the sterility
of the soil, the tempestuousness of the sea, would afflict and punish
enough. Could there be found a spot better adapted to retaliate the injury
it had received by their crimes? Some of those islands might be considered
as the hell of Great Britain, where all evil spirits should be sent. Two
essential ends would be answered by this simple operation. The good people,
by emigration, would be rendered happier; the bad ones would be placed
where they ought to be. In a few years the dread of being sent to that
wintry region would have a much stronger effect, than that of transportation.
This is no place of punishment; were I a poor hopeless, breadless Englishman,
and not restrained by the power of shame, I should be very thankful for
the passage. It is of very little importance how, and in what manner an
indigent man arrives; for if he is but sober, honest, and industrious,
he has nothing more to ask of heaven. Let him go to work, he will have
opportunities enough to earn a comfortable support, and even the means
of procuring some land; which ought to be the utmost wish of every person
who has health and hands to work. I knew a man who came to this country,
in the literal sense of the expression, stark naked; I think he was a
Frenchman and a sailor on board an English man of war. Being discontented,
he had stripped himself and swam ashore; where finding clothes and friends,
he settled afterwards at Maraneck, In the county of Chester, in the province
of New York: he married and left a good farm to each of his sons. I knew
another person who was but twelve years old when he was taken on the frontiers
of Canada, by the Indians; at his arrival at Albany he was purchased by
a gentleman, who generously bound him apprentice to a taylor. He lived
to the age of ninety, and left behind him a fine estate and a numerous
family, all well settled; many of them I am acquainted with. Where is
then the industrious European who ought to despair?
After a
foreigner from any part of Europe is arrived, and become a citizen; let
him devoutly listen to the voice of our great parent, which says to him,
"Welcome to my shores, distressed European; bless the hour in which thou
didst see my verdant fields, my fair navigable rivers, and my green mountains!
If thou wilt work, I have bread for thee; if thou wilt be honest, sober,
and industrious, I have greater rewards to confer on thee-- ease and independence.
I will give thee fields to feed and cloath thee; a comfortable fireside
to sit by, and tell thy children by what means thou hast prospered; and
a decent bed to repose on. I shall endow thee beside with the immunities
of a freeman. If thou wilt carefully educate thy children, teach them
gratitude to God, and reverence to that government that philanthropic
government, which has collected here so many men and made them happy.
I will also provide for thy progeny; and to every good man this ought
to be the most holy, the most Powerful, the most earnest wish he can possibly
form, as well as the most consolatory prospect when he dies. Go thou and
work and till; thou shalt prosper, provided thou be just, grateful and
industrious."
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