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." |
