In the miscellaneous works of the period may be found
more pleasurable reading than in the portly volumes that contain the epics
of the Hartford Wits or the arguments of Revolutionary statesmen. As a type
of the forceful political pamphlet, a weapon widely used in England and
America in the eighteenth century, there is nothing equal to Thomas Paine's
Common Sense (1776) and The Crisis (1776-1783). The former
hastened on the Declaration of Independence; the latter cheered the young
Patriots in their struggle to make that Declaration valid in the sight of
all nations. Jonathan Carver's Travels through the Interior Parts of
North America (1778) is an excellent outdoor book dealing with
picturesque incidents of exploration in unknown wilds. The letters of
Abigail Adams, Eliza Wilkinson and Dolly Madison portray quiet scenes of
domestic life and something of the brave, helpful spirit of the mothers of
the Revolution. Crèvecoeur's Letters from an American Farmer (1782)
draws charming, almost idyllic, pictures of American life during the
Revolutionary period, and incidentally calls attention to the "melting
pot," in which people of various races are here fused into a common stock.
This mongrel, melting-pot idea (a crazy notion) is supposed to be modern,
and has lately occasioned some flighty dramas and novels; but that it is as
old as unrestricted immigration appears plainly in one of Crèvecoeur's
fanciful sketches:
"What then is the American, this new man? He is either a European
or a descendant of a 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, 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 hereafter will become distinct
by the power of the different climate they inhabit. 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."
Finally, there is the Journal of John Woolman (1774), written by a
gentle member of the society of Friends, which records a spiritual rather
than a worldly experience, and which in contrast with the general tumult of
Revolutionary literature is as a thrush song in the woods at twilight. It
is a book for those who can appreciate its charm of simplicity and
sincerity; but the few who know it are inclined to prize it far above the
similar work of Franklin, and to unite with Channing in calling it "the
sweetest and purest autobiography in the English language."
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