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A HISTORY
OF
AMERICAN LITERATURE
II.
1677–1765
By
MOSES COIT TYLER
PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH LITERATURE IN THE UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN
N E W YOR. K.
G. P. PU T N A M'S SO NS
I 82 FIFTH A V E NU E
1878
© C → ∞
º •
• • • • • º
• • • • •
© ：)
^ ^ • O • •
COPYRIGHT
1878
By G. P. PuTNAM's SoNs
C O N T E N T S.
CHAPTER XI.
NEW ENGLAND : THE VERSE-VWRITERS.
I.—The two literary periods in our colonial age—Their points of dis-
tinction—The times and the men—Our intended line of march
through the second period. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
II.-John Norton—His poem on the death of Anne Bradstreet—John
Rogers—His poetic praise of Anne Bradstreet. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
III.-Urian Oakes—His high literary gifts—His elegy on the death of
Thomas Shepard. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
IV.-Peter Folger, the ballad-writer—Benjamin Tompson, the satirist..
V.—Michael Wigglesworth, the sturdy rhymer of New England Calvin-
ism–His great popularity—Puts into verse the glooms and the
comforts of the prevailing faith—The realistic poet of hell-fire—
“God’s Controversy with New England”—“Meat out of the
Eater”—“The Day of Doom”—Synopsis of the latter poem—Its
wide diffusion and influence—His son, Samuel Wigglesworth, a
true poet—“A Funeral Song” by the latter. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
VI.-Nicholas Noyes, the last and greatest of our Fantastics—His fine
personal career—The monstrosities of his muse—Prefatory poem
on the “Magnalia"—Lines on John Higginson—Elegy on Joseph
Green—Verses on the painful malady of a Reverend friend......
VII.-Strong influence in America of the contemporary English poets,
especially Pope, Blackmore, Watts, Thomson, Young—Echoes of
them in Francis Knapp, Benjamin Colman, Jane Turell, Mather
Byles—The career and poetry of Roger Wolcott—His Connecti-
cut epic—His “Poetical Meditations”. . . . . . . . e - e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e º e º 'º º º
VIII.-Humorous poetry—John Seccomb and his burlesque verses—
The facetiousness of Joseph Green — His impromptus — His
“Entertainment for a Winter Evening”.......................
IX. —War-verses — Popular ballads—“Lovewell's Fight”—Tilden's
“Miscellaneous Poems” — John Maylem, Philo-Bellum — His
“Conquest of Louisburg’”—II is “Gallic Perfidy”. . . . . . . . . . . . .
X.—A group of serious singers—John Adams—His accomplishments and
poetry—“Poems by Several Hands”—Peter Oliver, the literary
politician–His poem in honor of Josiah Willard............. tº º e
346668
I5
I9
23
38
43
46
5I
54
iv. COAV7'EMTS.
XI.-" Pietas et Gratulatio”—Its occasion—Its authors—A burst of
American loyalty to the English monarchs—Its Greek and Latin
verses—Its English verses—Apotheosis of George the Second—
Salutation to George the Third... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . © tº e º 'º e º o
CHAPTER XII.
NEW ENGLAND : THE DYNASTY OF THE MATHERS.
I.—The ſounder of the dynasty, Richard Mather—His flight from Eng-
land and career in America—His traits—His writings—An ecclesi-
astical politician—His love of study.......... © tº e º º e º e º 'º e º e º dº e ©
II.-Increase Mather—His American birth and breeding—His residence
in Ireland and England—Returns to New England—His great
influence there—Pulpit-orator, statesman, courtier, college presi-
dent—His learning—His laboriousness in study—His manner in
the pulpit—The literary qualities of his writings—Specimens—
Number and range of his published works—His “Illustrious
Providences”—Origin of the book—Its value................. º
III.-Cotton Mather—His preéminence—The adulation received by him
—His endowments — His precocity — The development of his
career—His religious character and discipline—His intellectual
accomplishments—His habits as a reader—The brilliancy of his
talk—Contemporaneous admiration—The watchword of his life—
The multitude of his books—Characteristic titles—The ſame of
his “Magnalia’—His anxieties respecting its publication—Its
scope—His advantages and disadvantages for historical writing—
Estimate of the historical character of the “Magnalia”—The
best of his subsequent writings — “Bonifacius”—“Psalterium
Americanum ”—“Manuductio ad Ministerium ”—Its counsels to
a young prophet—Study of Hebrew, of history, of natural phil-
osophy—Assault on Aristotle—The place of Cotton Mather in
American literature—The last of the Fantastics in prose—Traits
of his style—Pedantry—His style not agreeable to his later con-
temporaries—His theory of style—Defence of his own style against
his critics...... © e e º e º e º e º e e e o e e º e º e º e o 'º e o 'º o • e º 'º - e. & e º e º e º e º º
IV.-Samuel Mather—His days and deeds—A stanch patriot—The end
of the dynasty . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * e e o e o e e s a dº e < e < * * * * * g e'e e < * c e o e
CHAPTER XIII.
NEW ENGLAND : TOPICS OF POPULAR DISCUSSION.
I.—Early literary prominence of the clergy—Growth of the laity in intel-
lectual influence—The range of the people's thought and talk
during the second colonial period. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . © e º o
57
64
67
73
90
92
COAV7'EAVTS.
II.-The mournful reminiscences of Joshua Scottow—The witchcraft
spasm—Robert Calef and “More Wonders of the Invisible World,”
III.-The diary in literature—Sarah Kemble Knight—Her “Journal”
—Pictures of travel and of rustic manners early in the eighteenth
century. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e º e º e º e º º e - © - © e - e º º ſe & e º 'º - -
IV.-Samuel Sewall—His brave life—The man—His attitude toward
witchcraft and slavery—His “Selling of Joseph "–Among the
prophets—“A Description of the New Heaven”—The New
Jerusalem to be in America—A gallant champion of the immor-
tality of the souls of women . . . . . . . . . . º e º e º e º ºs e º 'º - © e g º e º & tº e - e.
V.—John Wise—His inadequate fame—His genius as a writer—His
career as preacher, muscular Christian, and opponent of despot-
ism—The first great American expounder of democracy in church
and state—His victorious assault upon a scheme for clerical aggran-
dizement—“The Churches' Quarrel Espoused”—The logic, wit,
and eloquence of the book—His “Vindication of the Government
of New England Churches”—Analysis of the book—Traits of his
mind and style. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº º e º e º O - e º ºs e e º e º e º º tº
VI.-Jeremiah Dummer—His early fame—Short career as a preacher—
Goes to London and becomes courtier, barrister, and colonial
agent—A faithful American always—His “Letter to a Noble
Lord”—His “Defence of the New England Charters”—The ele-
gance and strength of his style. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e e º 'º º º
VII.—The almanac in modern literature—Its early prominence in Amer-
ica—Its function—Wit and wisdom in almanacs not originated
by Franklin—Nathaniel Ames, the greatest of our colonial al-
manac-makers—His “Astronomical Diary and Almanac,” an an-
nual miscellany of information and amusement—Its great popu-
larity and utility—Its predictions—Its shrewd and earnest appeals
to the common mind—Its suggestions concerning health—Its
original verses—Predicts the Day of Judgment—A noble prophecy
of universal peace—Vision of the coming greatness of America
—A friendly address to posterity. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . e e e º e e & Q & © e o te e
CHAPTER XIV.
NEW ENGLAND : HISTORY AND BIOGRAPHY.
I.—Further development of the historic spirit in New England—Biog-
raphy and biographers—Ebenezer Turell—His biographies of
Jane Turell and of Benjamin Colman...... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
II.-William Hubbard—Picture of him by John Dunton—His literary
culture and aptitude—Qualities of his style—His “General His-
tory of New England”—His “Indian Wars”—Celebrity of the
latter—Its faults and merits—Represents the wrath of the people
against the Indians—Portrait of a noble Savage. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
94
96
99
IO4
II6
I2O
I31
I33
vi COAV7'EAV7'S.
III.-Other literary memorials of the long conflict with the Indians—
Mary Rowlandson and her thrilling “Narrative” of Indian cap-
tivity—“The Redeemed Captive,” by John Williams of Deerfield
—Benjamin Church—His history of King Philip's War and of
other struggles with the Indians—Interest of his narratives—
Samuel Penhallow—His history of Indian wars—Pictures of hero-
ism and cruelty—His reminiscences of classical study—Samuel
Niles—His “History of the Indian and French Wars”.........
TV.-Thomas Prince—His eminent career—His special taste and train-
ing for history—Has the cardinal virtues of an historian–His
“Chronological History of New England”—Thoroughness of his
138
methods—Salient features of the book—Its worthiness..........
V.—John Callender—His careful sketch of the first century of Rhode
Island's history. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
VI.-William Douglass—The life and the singularities of the man—A
literary Ishmaelite—His ability and self-confidence—His sarcastic
account of the medical profession in America—His “Summary”
—A passionate, heterogeneous, able book—Its style and scope—
Its drolleries—IHis dislike of the Indians, of the French, of White-
field, of Bishop Berkeley, and of paper-money—General estimate
of his book. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * @ º ºs e º 'º e e
CHAPTER XV.
NEW ENGLAND : THE PULPIT IN LITERATURE.
I.—Continued ascendency of the clergy—Their full maintenance of the
grand traits of their predecessors, manliness, scholarship, thought-
fulness, eloquence—Their improvement upon their predecessors
in breadth, and in social and literary urbanity. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
II.-John Higginson—Sketch of him by John Dunton—The power of
his character and of his long life—His election-sermon—His
“Attestation” to the “Magnalia’’. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
III.—William Stoughton, preacher and statesman—His “Narrative of
the Proceedings of Andros”—His discourse on “New England's
True Interest, not to Lie"—Its literary ability—Its courage....
IV.—Urian Oakes—His greatness in prose as well as in verse—Contem-
poraneous estimates of him—His first artillery-sermon—Its great
eloquence—Its delineation of the Christian soldier—His election-
sermon–His second artillery-sermon. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
V.—Samuel Willard—His “Complete Body of Divinity”—His career
—His theological lectures—Their great influence—Their publi-
cation in 1726 in the first American ſolio–Strong qualities of the
book. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . e e e o 'º e º e e º e º e © tº e º 'º e s e e s e e º e e e e
I44
I5O
I51
I59
I6o
I6I
I63
COAV7 EAVTS.
VI.-Solomon Stoddard—His activity as a writer—His special reputa-
tion for soundness of judgment—IIis “Answer to Some Cases of
Conscience respecting the Country.”—The sinfulness of long hair
and of periwigs—Condemnation of other frivolities.............
VII.—Benjamin Colman — His great contemporaneous influence in
church and state—His fine culture—His residence in England—
His particular friendships there—His return to Boston—His long
and prosperous public career—His discourses—Their literary
polish—His charitable spirit. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº e Q
VIII.-John Barnard of Marblehead—His versatile culture—His emi-
nence—His intellectual traits—His volumes of sermons—His
gentlemanly treatment of sinners. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . º
IX.—Jonathan Edwards—Outline of his life—His qualities, spiritual
and intellectual—His precocity in metaphysics, and in physics—
His juvenile writings—His more mature studies in science—His
spiritual self-discipline—His resolutions—The sorrows of his life
—Habits as a student and thinker—His power as a preacher—
Analysis of his method in discourse—“Sinners in the Hands of
an Angry God”—His literary characteristics...... © e º e º ºs e e s e e e
X.—Mather lyles—A scene in Hollis Street Church early in the Revolu-
tion—His brilliant career before the Revolution—His versatility—
The misfortune of his later reputation as a jester—A great pulpit-
orator—His literary qualities—His exposition of the preacher's
character—His favorite themes—Passages from his sermons......
XI.-Jonathan Mayhew—The lines of his influence—Estimate of him
by John Adams—Charles Chauncey—His traits—His hatred of
inaccurate and emotional utterance—His contempt for Whitefield
—His discourse on “Enthusiasm"—His “Seasonable Thoughts”
-His portrait of the enthusiast. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
CHAPTER XVI.
LITERATURE IN THE MIDI) LE COLONIES.
I. NEw York AND NEw JERSEY.
I.—Traits of life in New York before it became English—After it be-
came English–A many-tongued community—Metropolitan indi-
cations—Education neglected—Literary effort only in spasms....
II.—Daniel Denton, a pioneer of American literature there — His
“Brief Description of New York”—His pictures of nature and of
social felicity—Thomas Budd, of New Jersey, another pioneer
writer—His “Good Order established in Pennsylvania and New
Jersey” — William Leeds, a refugee from Philadelphia — His
I69
177
I92
I99
205
“News of a Trumpet sounding in the Wilderness”........ . . . . . 207
viii COMTEN 7°S,
III.-Lewis Morris of Morrisania—His vivacious boyhood—Turns vaga-
bond—Settlement into steady courses—A powerful politician–
His literary inclinations—His letters from London—Provincial
loyalty disenchanted by going to the metropolis... . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
IV.-Cadwallader Colden—His long career—Manifold activity—Extraor-
dinary range of his studies and of his writings—His “History
of the Five Indian Nations”—Its characteristics—Its descriptions
of the savage virtues. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
V.—Daniel Coxe of New Jersey—His “Description of the English Prov-
ince of Carolana” — His statesmanly view of colonial affairs—
Anticipates Franklin's plan of a union of the colonies... . . . . . . . .
VI.—Jonathan Dickinson, pulpit-orator, physician, teacher, author—
First president of the College of New Jersey—His personal traits
—His eminence as a theological debater—His “ Familiar Letters,”
VII.-William Livingston—His “Philosophic Solitude”—Manner and
spirit of the poem—Antithesis between his ideal life and his real
one—His strong character—Outward engagements—His activity
as a pamphleteer and as a writer in the journals—His burlesque
definition of his own creed—His “Review of the Military Opera-
tions in North America”—His “Verses to Eliza”. . . . . • * * * * * * * *
VIII.--William Smith—The course of his life—His special interest in
the history of his native province—His “History of New York”
—Criticisms upon it—Samuel Smith and his “History of the Col-
ony of Nova Caesarea, or New Jersey”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
2. PENNSYLVANIA.
I.—The founders of Pennsylvania—The high motives of their work—
Their social severity—Intellectual greatness of William Penn—
Justice and liberality imparted by him to the constitution of his
province—Education provided for—First impulses to literary pro-
duction in Pennsylvania—The development of a literary spirit in
Philadelphia. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . - e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e. tº e º 'o
II.-Gabriel Thomas—A brisk Quaker—His “Account” of Pennsyl-
vania and of West New Jersey—His enthusiasm for his province
—Its freedom from lawyers and doctors—Its proffer of relief to
the distressed in the old world—Richard Frame—His “Short
Description of Pennsylvania”—John Holme—His “True Rela-
tion of the Flourishing State of Pennsylvania”—Jonathan Dicken-
son—His “God's Protecting Providence Man's Surest Help”. . . .
III.-James Logan—Penn invites him to America and trusts to him his
affairs there—His fidelity to the Penns and to the people—Diffi-
culties of his position—His great intellectual attainments—His
writings, published and unpublished. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
IV.—William Smith—His influence upon intellectual culture in the
middle colonies—Arrives at New York—His “General Idea of
2IO
2I3
2I5
2I6
218
223
225
228
23 I
COAVTEAV7'S.
the College of Mirania”—Is invited to Philadelphia—His useful
career as educator, preacher, and writer... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . gº tº e e
V.—A succession of small writers—Jacob Taylor — Henry Brooke—
Samuel Keimer—Aquila Rose—James Ralph—George Webb and
his “Bachelors' Hall”—Joseph Breintnal—A poem from “Titan’s
Almanac" for 1730—Joseph Shippen—John Webbe-Lewis
Evans. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
VI.-Samuel Davies—Born and educated in Pennsylvania—Acquires in
Virginia great fame as a pulpit-orator—His mission to England
—Becomes president of the College of New Jersey—His death—
Great popularity of his published sermons down to the present
time—His traits as a preacher—Passage from his sermon on “The
General Resurrection ”... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
VII.-Thomas Godfrey, the poet – Connection of his father's family
with Franklin — His early life and death — Publication of his
“Juvenile Poems”—His “Prince of Parthia,” the first American
drama-A study of it... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * @ º
VIII.-Benjamin Franklin, the first man of letters in America to
achieve cosmopolitan fame — His writings during our present
period–His great career during the subsequent period..........
CHAPTER XVII.
LITERATURE IN MARYLAND, VIRGINIA, AND THE SOUTH,
I. MARYLAND.
I.-Ebenezer Cook, Gentleman—A rough satirist—His “Sot-Weed
Factor”—Outline of the poem—Lively sketches of early Mary-
land life—Hospitality—Manners—Indians—A court-scene—En-
counter with a Quaker and a lawyer—Swindled by both—His
curse upon Maryland—His “Sot-Weed Redivivus ”............
2. VIRGINIA.
I.-James Blair the true founder of literary culture in Virginia—His
- coming to Virginia—Forcible qualities of the man–His zeal for
education—Founds the College of William and Mary—First
president of it—The Commencement celebration in 17oo—His
writings—“The Present state of Virginia and the College”—His
published discourses on the Sermon on the Mount—His literary
qualities—Passages from his sermons...................... . . .
II.-Robert Beverley—Parentage—Education in England—His study
of the history of Virginia—How he came to write it—The blun-
ders of Oldmixon—Reception of Beverley's book—The author
himself seen in it—A noble Virginian—A friend of the Indians—
233
234
24I
244
251
255
X CONTENTS.
His love of nature—His style—Humor—Hatred of indolence—
Virginia hospitality and comfort—Calumnies upon its climate.... 264
III.-Hugh Jones, clergyman, teacher, and school-book maker—His
“Present State of Virginia”—Objects of the book—Its range—
Its sarcasms upon the other colonies—Its criticisms upon Virginia
–Suggestions for improvement. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . e tº e º e º e e e º e e º 'º 268
IV.—William Byrd of Westover—His princely fortune and ways—His
culture—Foreign travel–Public spirit—His writings—“History
of the Dividing Line"—The humor and literary grace of the book
—Amusing sketch of early history of Virginia—The Christian
duty of marrying Indian women—Sarcasms upon North Carolina
—Notices of plants, animals, and forest-life—The praise of gin-
seng—His “Progress to the Mines”—His “Journey to the Land
of Eden". . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . : - - - - - - 27o
V.—William Stith—Various utilities of his life—His “History of Vir-
ginia’—Defects of the work—Its good qualities—Bitter descrip-
tion of James the First... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 279
3. North CAROLINA.
I.—John Lawson—His picture of Charleston in 17oo—His journey to
North Carolina—What he saw and heard by the way—Becomes
surveyor-general of North Carolina—His descriptions of that
province—Its coast—Sir Walter Raleigh's ship—A land of Ar-
cadian delight—The playful alligator—A study of Indians—Amia-
pility and beauty of their women—An ancient squaw—A conjuror
—Indian self-possession—The author's fate—His “Journal”. . . . 282
4. SouTH CAROLINA.
I.—Alexander Garden, rector of Saint Philip's, Charleston—The force of
his character—Greatness of his influence—His abhorrence of
Whitefield—His sermons and letters against Whitefield—Their
bitterness and literary merit. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 289
5. GEORGIA.
I.—Georgia's entrance into our literature—A conflict with Oglethorpe—
The expert and witty book of Patrick Tailfer and others—“A
True and Historical Narrative of the Colony of Georgia”—Outline
of it—A masterly specimen of satire—Its mock dedication to
Oglethorpe. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . e - © e º O - © e º e e º ºs • . . . 292
CHAPTER XVIII.
GENERAL LITERARY FORCES IN THE COLONIAL TIME.
I.-Tendency in each colony toward isolation—Local peculiarities in
, thought and language–Distribution of personal and literary types, 299
COAVTEAVTS. xi
II.-General tendencies toward colonial fellowship, founded on kinship,
religion, commerce, subjection to the same sovereign, peril from
the same enemies—Special intellectual tendencies toward colonial
fellowship, founded on the rise of journalism, the establishment
of colleges, and the study of physical science.................. 3OI
III.-The rise of American journalism—“Public Occurrences,” in 1690
—“The Boston News-Letter,” in 1704—Dates of the founding
of the first newspapers in the several colonies—Whole number
founded in each colony before 1765—Description of the colonial
newspapers—Their effect on intercolonial acquaintance—The
growth of literary skill in them—Early literary magazines–First
one founded by Franklin, in 1741—“The American Magazine,”
at Boston—“The Independent Reflector,” at New York—“The
American Magazine,” at Philadelphia... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • . . . .303
IV.-Early American colleges—Seven founded before 1765–Harvard,
William and Mary, Yale, New Jersey, King's, Philadelphia, Rhode
Island—Grade and extent of instruction in them—Predominant
study of the ancient classics—Requirements for admission at Har-
vard and Yale—Latin in ordinary use in the colleges—Range of
studies—Expertness in the use of the ancient languages—How -
the early colleges led to colonial union—Their vast influence on
literary culture—Their promotion of the spiritual conditions on
which the growth of literature depends—One effect of their work
seen in the state-papers of the Revolutionary period—Lord Chat-
ham's tribute. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 306
V.—Study of physical science in America—Begun by the earliest Ameri-
cans—Eminence of John Winthrop of Connecticut—His connec-
tions with the Royal Society—FitzJohn Winthrop—Stimulus given
to study of nature in New England—Increase Mather—John Wil-
liams—Cotton Mather—Jared Eliot—Joseph Dudley—Paul Dud-
ley—Study of science in Virginia—John Banister—William Byrd
—Mark Catesby—John Clayton—John Mitchell–John Bartram
of Pennsylvania—John Winthrop of Harvard College—The inter-
colonial correspondence of scientific men—Culmination of scien-
tific research between 1740 and 1765—The brilliant services of
Franklin—America instructing Europe in electricity—Leading
scientific men in the several colonies — Scientific fellowship a
preparation for political fellowship—Impulse given by science to
literature... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ºr e º ºs e e e s e s e e e e s e e e e º e º e º e º 'º º • - - - - - 3IO
VL—Great change in the character of American literature after 1765. . . .317
SECOND COLONIAL PERIOD.
1676- 1765.
THOMAS BUDD.
i
Writers of Narration
and Description.
Historical and Bio-
graphical Writers.
Theological and Re-
ligious Writers.
-
-:
\.
ſ
\-
r
t
WILLIAM BYRD.
DANIEL COXE.
JONATHAN Dickenson, of Pa.
DANIEL DENTON.
I.EWIS EVANS.
RICHARD FRAME.
HUGH Jones.
SARAH KEMBLE KNIGHT.
JOHN LAWSON.
MARY ROWLANDSON.
PATRICK TAILFER.
GABRIEL THOMAS.
John WILLIAMS.
ROBERT BEVERLEY.
BENJAMIN CHURCH.
CADWALLADER COLDEN.
JoHN CALLENDER.
THOMAS CLAP.
WILLIAM DOUGLASS.
WILLIAM HUBBARD.
INCREASE MATHER.
COTTON MATHER.
SAMUEL MATHER.
SAMUEL NILES.
SAMUEL PENHALLOW.
THOMAS PRINCE.
WILLIAM SMITH, of N. Y.
SAMUEL SMITH.
WILLIAM STITH.
EBENEZER TURELL.
JAMES BLAIR.
MATHER BYLES.
John BARNARD.
CHARLES CHAUNCEY.
BENJAMIN COLMAN.
THOMAS CLAP.
JonATHAN DICKINSON, of N. J.
SAMUEL DAVIES.
JonATHAN EDwARDs.
ALEXANDER GARDEN.
John HIGGINSON.
WILLIAM HUBBARD.
SAMUEL JOHNSON.
INCREASE MATHER.
COTTON MATHER.
SAMUEL MATHER.
JonATHAN MAYHEw.
URIAN OAKES.
THOMAS PRINCE.
WILLIAM SMITH, of Pa.
SAMUEL SEWALL.
SOLOMON STODDARD.
WILLIAM STOUGHTON.
SAMUEL WILLARD.
ſ JoHN BANISTER.
JOHN BARTRAM.
JOHN CLAYTON.
CADWALLADER COLDEN.
THOMAS CLAP.
WILLIAM DOUGLASS.
Writers upon Science. J JonATHAN EDWARDS.
Miscellaneous Prose
Writers.
JARED ELIOT.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.
ALEXANDER GARDEN, M.D.
SAMUEL JOHNSON.
JAMES LOGAN.
JoHN MITCHELL.
JoHN WINTHROP, of Harvard Coll.
r NATHANIEL AMES.
ROBERT CALEF.
JEREMIAH DUMMER.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.
DANIEL LEEDS.
Writers of Verse.
\
- WILLIAM LIVINGSTON.
LEWIS MORRIS.
WILLIAM SMITH, of Pa.
SAMUEL SEWALL.
Joshua Scottow.
|ſº WEBBE.
John WISE.
r JoHN ADAMS.
Joseph BREINTNAL.
HENRY BROOKE.
MATHER BYLES.
BENJAMIN COLMAN.
EBENEZER COOK.
PETER FOLGER.
THOMAS GODFREY.
Joseph GREEN.
FRANCIS ISNAPP.
WILLIAM LIVINGSTON.
John MAYLEM.
NICHOLAS NOYES.
John Norton.
URIAN OAKES.
PETER OLIVER,
John OSBORN.
AUTHORS OF PIETAS ET GRATULATIO.
AQUILA ROSE.
JOHN ROGERS.
JoHN SECCoMB.
Joseph SHIPPEN.
JANE TURELL.
BENJAMIN TOMPSON.
JACOB TAYLOR.
GEORGE WEBB.
MICHAEL WIGGLESWORTH.
l SAMUEL WIGGLESWORTH.
ROGER WOLCOTT.
-
CHAPTER XI.
NEW ENGLAND : THE VERSE-VWRITERS.
I.—The two literary periods in our colonial age—Their points of distinc-
tion—The times and the men—Our intended line of march through the
second period.
II.-John Norton—His poem on the death of Anne Bradstreet—John Rogers
—His poetic praise of Anne Bradstreet.
III.-Urian Oakes—His high literary gifts—His elegy on the death of Thomas
Shepard.
IV.—Peter Folger, the ballad-writer—Benjamin Tompson, the satirist.
V.—Michael Wigglesworth, the sturdy rhymer of New England Calvinism—
His great popularity—Puts into verse the glooms and the comforts of the
prevailing faith—The realistic poet of hell-fire—“God’s Controversy with
New England”—“Meat out of the Eater”—“The Day of Doom"—
Synopsis of the latter poem—Its wide diffusion and influence—His son,
Samuel Wigglesworth, a true poet—“A Funeral Song” by the latter.
VI-Nicholas Noyes, the last and greatest of our Fantastics—His fine per-
sonal career—The monstrosities of his muse—Prefatory poem on the
“Magnalia "–Lines on John Higginson—Elegy on Joseph Green—Verses
on the painful malady of a Reverend friend.
VII.-Strong influence in America of the contemporary English poets, es-
pecially Pope, Blackmore, Watts, Thomson, Young—Echoes of them in
Francis Knapp, Benjamin Colman, Jane Turell, Mather Byles—The
career and poetry of Roger Wolcott—His Connecticut epic—His “Poeti-
cal Meditations.”
VIII.-Humorous poetry—John Seccomb and his burlesque verses—The
facetiousness of Joseph Green—His impromptus—His “Entertainment
for a Winter Evening.”
IX. —War-verses—Popular ballads—“Lovewell's Fight”—Tilden’s “Mis-
cellaneous Poems”—John Maylem, Philo-Bellum—His “Conquest of
Louisburg’”—IIis “Gallic Perfidy.”
X.—A group of serious singers—John Adams—His accomplishments and
poetry—“Poems by Several Hands”—Peter Oliver, the literary politician
—His poem in honor of Josiah Willard.
XI.-" Pietaset Gratulatio"—Its occasion—Its authors—A burst of American
loyalty to the English monarchs—Its Greek and Latin verses—Its English
verses—Apotheosis of George the Second—Salutation to George the Third.
I.
I HAVE taken the year sixteen hundred and seventy-six
as the year of partition between the two periods into which
5
6 Aſ/STORY OF AMER/CAM Z/7′ERA 7TURE.
our colonial age seems to fall. By a coincidence that
is almost dramatic, that year proved to be one of spa-
cious import for both the great English communities then
planted in America, and then holding within themselves
the types and the hopes of all possible English civilization
in the new world. Alike for Virginia and for New Eng-
land, it was a year in which most doleful mischief, long
gathering force from the crimes and the blunders of men,
came to its culmination, exploded, and passed away;-a
year of fright, of fury, of outcry and blood and battle-agony,
and at last of the sort of silence that is called peace. In
that year, Virginia saw the crisis and close of the patriotic
insurrection of its own people under the hero, Nathaniel
Bacon ; in that year, New England saw the crisis and close
of the conspiracy of its exasperated Indians under the
hero, Philip. For those two central English communities
in America, and for all other English communities that
should afterward be grouped around them or issue from
them, the year sixteen hundred and seventy-six established
two very considerable facts, namely, that English colonists
in America could be so provoked as to make physical re-
sistance to the authority of England; and, second, that
English colonists in America could, in the last resort, put
down any combination of Indians that might be formed
against them. In other words, it was then made evi-
dent that English colonists would certainly be safe in the
inew world, and also that they would not always be
colonists. That year completed the proofs that a certain
uncounted throng of articulating bipeds, known as Amer-
icans—together with the words that they should articu-
late—were to be endured on this planet, for some ages to
COIſle,
Let us turn away, now, from the significance of those
events which, at the end of a long and troubled sequence,
came to an issue in sixteen hundred and seventy-six, and
glance for a moment at the men and women who, in that
year, constituted the larger part of the population of the
TAZE 7"WO CO/COM/A/. FAZRIO/O.S. - 7
English colonies. Here, at length, we confront a new
race of beings under the sun : people who loved England,
but had never seen England ; who always called England
home, but had never been at home; who spoke and wrote
the English language, but had learned to do so three or
four thousand miles from the island in which that lan-
guage had been hitherto cooped up. Before sixteen hun-
dred and seventy-six, the new civilization in America was
principally in the hands of Americans born in England ;
after sixteen hundred and seventy-six, it was principally
in the hands of Americans born in America, and the sub-
jects of such training as was to be had here. Our first
colonial period, therefore, transmits to us a body of writ-
ings produced by immigrant Americans; preserving for
us the ideas, the moods, the efforts, the very phrases, of
the men who founded the American nation; representing
to us, also, the earliest literary results flowing from the re-
actions of life in the new world upon an intellectual cul-
ture formed in the old world. Our second colonial period
does more; it transmits to us a body of writings, produced
in the main by the American children of those immigrants,
and representing the earliest literary results flowing from
the reactions of life in the new world upon an intellectual
culture that was itself formed in the new world.
Our first colonial period, just seventy years long, we
have now studied with full and earnest care; we have
held up before our eyes the tattered and time-stained
memorials of its literary activity; we have listened atten-
tively to its multitudinous voices, hushed by death two
centuries-ago. Each reader has now before him the mate-
rials out of which to construct for himself the praise, or
the contempt, which he is willing to bestow upon that
period. For my part, I have no apology to make for it:
I think it needs none. It was a period principally engaged
in other tasks than the tasks of the pen; it laid, quietly
and well, the foundation of a new social structure that
was to cover a hemisphere, was to give shelter and com-
8 A/S 7'O/8 Y OF AMAEAEACAA/ ZZZTAEAEA 7'UAEA.
fort to myriads of the human race, was to endure to cen-
turies far beyond the gropings of our guesswork. Had it
done that deed alone, and left no written word at all, not
any man since then could have wondered ; still less could
any man have flung at it the reproach of intellectual leth-
argy or neglect. But if, besides what it did in the found-
ing of a new commonwealth, we consider what it also did
in the founding of a new literature—the muchness of
that special work, the downright merit of it—we shall find
it hard to withhold from that period the homage of our
admiration.
From the year sixteen hundred and seventy-six, when
our first colonial period ends, there stretches onward a
space of just eighty-nine years, at the end of which the
American colonies underwent a Swift and portentous
change, losing, all at once, their colonial content, and
passing suddenly into the earlier and the intellectual stage
of their struggle for independence. This space of eighty-
nine years forms, of course, our second colonial period ;
and it is this which we are now to study.
For the most of this period, and for most purposes of
investigation, our history is but a bundle of anecdotes
telling of detached groups of communities, each group
working out its own life in its own way, and uttering in
some fashion of frank speech its own uppermost thought.
Here, at the farthest north, we rest our eyes upon the
New England group of communities; thence, passing
along the coast, we encounter the group of the middle
colonies, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania; finally,
the southern group, Maryland, Virginia, the two Carolinas,
and Georgia. Between the several members of each group
there were, perhaps, special intimacies, domestic, commer-
cial, military, religious ; but between the several groups
there were almost no intimacies at all.
Moving across this tract of time, we shall make research
for whatever writings were produced within it by these
clustered populations of Americans. It will be convenient
JOHN MOR TOW. 9
for us to begin with New England, and to proceed in geo-
graphical order southward.
Of nearly all the writers that we are now to deal with,
it may be said that they did their most significant work
within the limits which we have assigned to our second
colonial period; and yet some of them, the eldest, began
their work before that period began ; and others, the
youngest, perhaps continued their work after that period
ended. In order to give a satisfactory account of them,
we shall occasionally find ourselves flitting back, and com-
mitting trespass upon the territory which we profess to
have abandoned, or even, it may be, advancing into that
territory to which in this volume we shall not try to lay
claim.
The topic that last engaged our notice, in the literary
period just closed, was the verse-writers of New England;
and this topic is the one with which we shall begin our
study of the period now to be opened,—thus taking up the
thread of the story at the very point where we laid it
down. We became somewhat acquainted with the poet,
Anne Bradstreet, the only person of an avowed and special
vocation in poetry that New England had in its earliest
age. The first two poets that we meet on the threshold
of our new studies, were men who had grown up in New
England under the influence of Anne Bradstreet's fame;
who were, in some sense, her literary children; and who
have left verses in praise of her, that constitute their own
best title to praise.
II.
Of these two poets, one was John Norton, nephew of
the famous Boston minister of the same name; born in
I65 I ; graduated at Harvard in 1671 ; pastor of the first
church at Hingham from 1678 till his death in 1716; dur-
ing all that time publishing only an election sermon, in
1708, and still earlier, in 1678, a poem occasioned by the
death of Anne Bradstreet. It is this poem, “A Funeral
IO Aff Y.S 7'ORY OF A MAEAC/CAAV ZAZTEACA 7TURE.
Elogy upon that pattern and patron of virtue,” that will
preserve for him a high and permanent memory among the
few real singers of our colonial time. We know not what
else he did in verse; but, certainly, the force and beauty
that are in this little poem could not have been caught
at one grasp of the hand. His poetical strokes were by
no means sure; the literary taint of the time had smitten
him ; and even in this sorrowful and stately chant, he once
or twice slipped into grotesqueness of conceit, and fune-
real frivolity. Yet, here is something more than mechanic
poetry, something other than inspiration of the thumb-
nail. To this young American scholar and poet, just then
at the opening of his active career, his mind brimming
with the imagery of the antique classics, the death of
Anne Bradstreet—their one glorious example of poetic
power in New England—seemed to come as a sort of
elemental loss, a bereavement and a darkening of the earth,
at which the sky itself and all its splendid tenants would
put on mourning. Therefore, with the fine exaggerating
speech of his passion, he cries out:
“Ask not why the great glory of the sky,
That gilds the stars with heavenly alchemy,
Ask not the reason of his ecstasy,
Paleness of late, in midnoon majesty;
Why that the pale-faced Empress of the night
Disrobed her brother of his glorious light.
Did not the language of the stars foretell
A mournful scene, when they with tears did swell ?
Did not the glorious people of the sky
Seem sensible of future misery 2
Behold how tears flow from the learnéd hill ;
How the bereavéd Nine do daily fill
The bosom of the fleeting air with groans
And woful accents, which witness their moans.”
As he dwells upon it, her death seems so cruel a theft
from the world of what the world could ill spare, that
his grief passes into wrath:
JOHN MOA TOM. II
“Some do for anguish weep; for anger, I,
That Ignorance should live, and Art should die.
Black, fatal, dismal, inauspicious day !
Be it the first of miseries to all,
Or last of life defamed for funeral.
When this day yearly comes, let every one
Cast in their urn the black and dismal stone.
Succeeding years, as they their circuit go,
Leap o'er this day, as a sad time of woe.”
Then, as this indignant gust has uttered itself, he turns
in direct and reverent salutation to the dead poet, for
whom he mourns:
“Grave Matron, whoso seeks to blazon thee,
Needs not make use of wit's false heraldry;
Whoso should give thee all thy worth, would swell
So high, as 'twould turn the world infidel.
To write is easy; but to write on thee,
Truth would be thought to forfeit modesty.
Virtue ne'er dies: time will a poet raise,
Born under better stars, shall sing thy praise.
Praise her who list, yet he shall be a debtor;
For Art ne'er feigned, nor Nature framed, a better.
Her virtues were so great, that they do raise
A work to trouble fame, astonish praise.
Beneath her feet, pale Envy bites her chain,
And Poison-Malice whets her sting in vain.
Let every laurel, every myrtle bough,
Be stript for leaves to adorn and load her brow:
Victorious wreaths, which, 'cause they never fade,
Wise elder times for kings and poets made.
Let not her happy memory e'er lack
Its worth in Fame's eternal almanac,
Which none shall read, but straight their loss deplore,
And blame their fates they were not born before.”
* The entire poem is in “The Works of Anne Bradstreet,” J. H. Ellis's
cd. 409–413.
I 2 A/ZSTORY OF AMERACAAV ZAZTERA 7"U/8A2.
Somewhat older than John Norton, but associated with
him in poetic genius and in devotion to Anne Bradstreet,
was John Rogers; a strong and famous man in his day;
one of the early presidents of Harvard College; in his own
person an example of that versatility of gifts which Ameri-
can life has always had in it some peculiar force to develop,
—preacher, physician, linguist, scientist, educator, poet. In
1649, at the age of eighteen, he was graduated at Harvard
College; from 1656 to 1683, he lived at Ipswich, physician
both to the bodies and to the souls of men; in August,
I683, he was inaugurated as president of Harvard College;
and on the second of July, 1684, during an eclipse of the
sun, he died. The tradition of him brings to us a man of
uncommon grace of mind and sweetness of temper, of all
gentlemanly and scholarly accomplishments; in fact, “a
treasury of benevolence, a storehouse of theologic learn-
ing, a library of the choicest literature, a living system of
medicine, an embodiment of integrity, a repository of
faith, a pattern of Christian sympathy, a garner of all
virtues.” Of course, his portrait hangs upon the walls
of the “Magnalia,” ”—a portrait to which is attached the
inevitable Matheresque ear-mark, as follows. One day,
while president of the college, it happened that his prayer
in chapel was only about half as long as usual,—a phenom-
enon agreeable, doubtless, to the students, but quite in-
explicable to them. Indeed, at the moment, no human
being knew why that presidential prayer had come to an
end so soon ; but, as Cotton Mather judiciously remarks,
“Heaven knew the reason.” The college was on fire;
and had it not been for the inspired brevity of the presi-
dent's devotions that day, it “had been irrevocably laid in
ashes.” One almost shudders now to contemplate the
fascinating motive to collegiate incendiarism, which this
* As may be imagined, this quotation is originally from his tomb-stone ;
in spite of which, there is reason to believe that it is, in the main, true.
* Volume II. I6–17.
JOHN ROGERS. - I3
memorable providence must have suggested thencefor-
ward, for many generations, to the undergraduate mind,
—a possible explanation, indeed, of the numerous confla-
grations which, since that time, have desolated the Har-
vard Yard. . . . . . . . . .
Nearly all memorials of John Rogers's work as a writer
have perished. One little poem of his, however, remains,
a poem addressed to Anne Bradstreet, and, probably, first
published in 1678; a monument of the keen enthusiasm
which the writings of that admirable woman awakened
among the bright young scholars of New England, during
the latter part of her own life and for some years after-
ward; a monument, also, of its author's literary culture,
and of his really high faculty of poetic utterance. The
framework of this poem is a modified form of the Chauce-
rian stanza, the variation being very sweet and effective;
the order of the rhymes is slightly changed, and the seventh
line rolls on into a sonorous Alexandrine. Though, in one
place, the poem lapses into a conceit that is gross, and, in
fact, damnable, upon the whole it is very noble ; it is of
high and sustained imaginative expression; it shows, like-
wise, that this Puritan scholar of our little college in the
New England wilderness, had not only conversed to good
purpose with the classics of pagan antiquity, but had even
dared to overleap the barriers interposed by his own sect
between themselves and the more dreadful Christian clas-
sics of the Elizabethan singers:
“Madam, twice through the Muses' grove I walked,
Under your blissful bowers, I shrouding there.
It seemed with nymphs of Helicon I talked;
For there those sweet-lipped sisters sporting were;
Apollo with his sacred lute sate by;
On high they made their heavenly sonnets fly;
Posies around they strewed, of sweetest poesy.
Twice have I drunk the nectar of your lines,
Which high sublimed my mean-born fantasy.
I4
Aſ ZSZTORY OF AMER/CAAV ZAZTERA 7'URAE.
Flushed with these streams of your Maronian wines,
Above myself rapt to an ecstasy,
Methought I was upon Mount Hybla's top,
There where I might those fragrant flowers lop,
Whence did sweet odors flow, and honey-spangles drop.
Nor barking satyr's breath, nor dreary clouds,
Exhaled from Styx, their dismal drops distil
Within these fairy, flowery fields; nor shrouds
The screeching night-raven, with his shady quill;
But lyric strings here Orpheus nimbly hits,
Orion on his saddled dolphin sits,
Chanting as every humor, age, and season fits.
Here silver Swans with nightingales set spells,
Which sweetly charm the traveller, and raise
Earth's earthéd monarchs from their hidden cells,
And to appearance summon lapsed days.
There heavenly air becalms the swelling frays,
And fury fell of elements, allays,
By paying every one due tribute of his praise.
This seemed the site of all those verdant vales,
And purléd springs, whereat the nymphs do play;
With lofty hills where poets read their tales
To heavenly vaults, which heavenly sounds repay
By echo's sweet rebound ; here ladies kiss,
Circling, nor songs nor dance's circle miss;
But whilst those sirens sung, I sunk in sea of bliss.
e
Your only hand, those posies did compose;
Your head, the source whence all those springs did flow;
Your voice, whence change's sweetest notes arose;
Your feet, that kept the dance alone, I trow.
Then vail your bonnets, poetasters all;
Strike lower amain, and at these humbly fall,
And deem yourselves advanced to be her pedestal.
Should all with lowly congés laurels bring;
Waste Flora's magazine, to find a wreath,
Or Peneus' banks, 'twere too mean offering :
Your muse a fairer garland doth bequeath
ORIAAV OAKAE.S. • , I5
To guard your fairer front : here 'tis your name
Shall stand immarbled; this, your little frame,
Shall great Colossus be, to your eternal fame.”"
III.
The same class of college-boys that produced, in John
Rogers, a poet and a Harvard president, produced, like-
wise, in Urian Oakes, another poet and another Harvard
president. The latter, born in 1631, was reared in the
woods of Concord—an air, then and since then, quicken-
ing to fine and rugged thought. Though of diminutive
body, he gave evidence from childhood of a large and
gracious intellect; in college he won high reputation for
scholarship; when but nineteen years old, he published a
set of astronomical calculations, prefixed by this motto of
modest reference to himself and his brochure:
“Parvum parva decent, sed inest sua gratia parvis.”
Upon his graduation, he devoted himself to theology,
and began to preach. Soon, however, yielding to the
attractions of England under the Protectorate, he went
thither, and accepted the living of Titchfield, Hampshire,
where he remained until the year of expulsion, 1662.
Nevertheless, he continued to find in England both pro-
tection and clerical employment; but in 1671, upon ur-
gent solicitation, he returned to this country, and became
pastor of the church at Cambridge. In 1675, he added to
his duties as pastor of that church, those of president of
Harvard College. In 1681, in the full splendor of his
powers and of his usefulness, he died. -
A study of the writings of this man, will be likely to
convince any one that there is less than the usual mortu-
ary extravagance in the sentence of Increase Mather, that
*This noble poem is reprinted in N. E. Hist, and Geneal. Reg. W. 138; and in
Works of Anne Bradstreet, J. H. Ellis's ed. 93–96. I have quoted from the
latter. -
I6 A/STORY OF AMER/CAAV ZATERA 7"UA’A.
Urian Oakes “was one of the greatest lights that ever
shone in this part of the world, or that is ever like to arise
in this horizon.” He seems to have been what another
contemporary” called him, a man of great “art and grace,”
as well as “a delightful, loving, profitable, fast, and faith-
ful friend.” He was distinguished in his day for the un-
surpassed elegance and fluency of his Latin; and with
respect to his English, it is, perhaps, the richest prose
style, it furnishes the most brilliant examples of origi-
nality, breadth, and force of thought, set aglow by flame of
passion, by flame of imagination, to be met with in our
sermon-literature from the settlement of the country down
to the Revolution.” *
But the splendid literary capacity of this early Ameri-
can—this product of our pioneer and autochthonous cul-
ture—is seen in this: as his sermons are among the noblest
specimens of prose to be met with, in that class of writ-
ings, during the colonial time, so the one example that is
left to us of his verse, reaches the highest point touched
by American poetry, during the same era. The poem
thus referred to, is an elegy upon the death of a man to
whom the poet seems to have been bound by the tender-
est friendship, Thomas Shepard, minister of the church in
Charlestown, a man of great gifts and of great influence,
who died in December, 1677, at the age of forty-two. It
was within a few days after the death of this friend, that
Oakes published his elegy, a poem in fifty-two six-lined
stanzas; not without some mechanical defects; blurred
also by some patches of the prevailing theological jargon;
yet, upon the whole, affluent, stately, pathetic; beautiful
and strong with the beauty and strength of true imagi-
native vision :
* Mather's Preface to Oakes's Fast Day Sermon, published 1682.
* John Sherman, in Preface to Oakes's Second Artillery-Sermon, pub-
lished 1682.
* As a sermon-writer, Urian Oakes is particularly noticed in Chapter XV.
OA&/A/V OAKES. 17
“Reader I am no poet; but I grieve.
Behold here what that passion can do,
That forced a verse, without Apollo's leave,
And whether the learnéd Sisters would or no.
My griefs can hardly speak; my sobbing muse
In broken terms our sad bereavement rues.
Oh ! that I were a poet now in grain
How would I invocate the Muses all
To deign their presence, lend their flowing vein,
And help to grace dear Shepard's funeral |
How would I paint our griefs 1 and succors borrow
From art and fancy, to limn out our sorrow.
Now could I wish—if wishing would obtain—
The sprightliest efforts of poetic rage,
To vent my griefs, make others feel my pain,
For this loss of the glory of our age.
Here is a subject for the loftiest verse
. ...at ever waited on the bravest hearse.
And could my pen ingeniously distil
The purest spirits of a sparkling wit,
In rare conceits, the quintessence of skill
In elegiac strains—none like to it—
I should think all too little to condole
The fatal loss to us of such a soul.
Could I take highest flights of fancy. ; soar
Aloft ; if wit’s monopoly were mine;
All would be too low, too light, too poor,
To pay due tribute to this great divine.
Ah ! wit avails not, when the heart's like to break ;
Great griefs are tongue-tied, when the lesser speak.
Away, loose-reined careers of poetry;
The celebrated Sisters may be gone ;
We need no mourning women’s elegy,
No forced, affected, artificial tone ;
Great and good Shepard's dead Ah ! this alone
Will set our eyes abroach, dissolve a stone.
Poetic raptures are of no esteem ;
Daring hyperboles have here no place ;
WOL, II.-2
I8
Ay/STO/8 Y OF AMER/CAAW ZZZTERA 7"UAEA2.
Luxuriant wits on such a copious theme
Would shame themselves, and blush to show their face.
Here's worth enough to overmatch the skill.
Of the most stately Poet Laureate's quill.
As when some formidable comets blaze,
As when portentous prodigies appear,
Poor mortals with amazement stand and gaze,
With hearts affrighted and with trembling fear;
So are we all amazed at this blow,
Sadly portending some approaching woe.
Art, nature, grace, in him were all combined,
To show the world a matchless paragon;
In whom, of radiant virtues no less shined
Than a whole constellation ; but he's gone !
He's gone, alas ! Down in the dust must lie
As much of this rare person as could die.
If to have solid judgment, pregnant parts,
A piercing wit, and comprehensive brain;
If to have gone the round of all the arts,
Immunity from death could gain ;
Shepard would have been death-proof, and secure
From that all-conquering hand, I'm very sure.
If holy life, and deeds of charity,
If grace illustrious, and virtue tried,
If modest carriage, rare humility,
Could have bribed Death, good Shepard had not died.
Oh but inexorable Death attacks
The best men, and promiscuous havoc makes.
Farewell, dear Shepard | Thou art gone before,
Made free of heaven, where thou shalt sing loud hymns
Of high, triumphant praises evermore,
In the sweet choir of saints and seraphims.
My dearest, inmost, bosom-friend is gone !
Gone is my sweet companion, soul's delight !
Now in an huddling crowd I'm all alone,
And almost could bid all the world—Good-night. ”
AE 7TER FOLGAER. I9
IV.
Thus, we gather some notion of the sort of literary ac-
complishments that were imparted to the earliest men
reared in the American forests; the first growths of the
highest culture to be had here in the days of the pioneers.
Let us listen, now, to a man who stood for the lower forms
of culture in New England in those days, its virile intelli-
gence, its free-mindedness, the breadth of its manhood.
In the spring of 1676, while New England was absorbed
in the fright and wrath of its great conflict with the In-
dians, there came out from the heart of the sea-mists
hanging over the island of Nantucket, a clear strong voice,
speaking against the one enormous sin of New England,
for which, as the speaker thought, Providence was once
more smiting the land with peril and pain. Peter Folger,
an able and godly man, surveyor, School-master, and lay-
assistant to Thomas Mayhew in missionary work among
the Indians upon that island, felt it in him, in that hour of
stress, to bear some rhymed testimony to a great principle,
which then had much need of being uttered both in prose
and rhyme — the principle of religious toleration. It
seemed to him to be plain enough, that King Philip and
his lusty scalp-fumblers were but so many cords braided
into that knotted lash with which the Almighty was then
scourging dreadfully, even unto the bone, the Christians
of New England, for their behavior toward Christian
brethren who differed from them in opinion, to wit, Bap-
tists, Quakers, and other lovers and users of free speech.
Peter Folger's testimony upon this occasion streamed forth
in one long jet of manly, ungrammatical, valiant doggerel,
—a ballad, just fit to be sung by “some blind crowder,
with no rougher voice than rude style,”—called “A Look-
ing-Glass for the Times; or, The former spirit of New Eng-
land revived in this generation.” He asks what the sin
* Printed in 1676"; reprinted in 1763; printed again in full in Duyckinck,
“Cycl. Am. Lit.” Simons's ed. 58–61.
2O
Aff/STORY OF AMERICAAW L/7Z RA 7'URE.
is, for which God is angry against them. This is his
a1nSWC1 :
“Sure, 'tis not chiefly for those sins
That magistrates do name,
And make good laws for to suppress
And execute the same.
But 'tis for that same crying sin
That rulers will not own,
And that whereby much cruelty
To brethren hath been shown.
The sin of persecution
Such laws establishëd ;
By which laws they have gone so far
As blood hath touchéd blood.”
This ballad, though without one sparkle of poetry, is
great in frankness and force; and as the author of it had
seen fit to arraign and censure the mightiest personages in
the land—magistrates and ministers—he nobly declined
all shirking of responsibility in the affair, but just wove his
name and his place of abode into the tissue of his verse,
thereby notifying all who might have any issues to try
with him, precisely who he was and where he was to be
found, in case of need :
“I am for peace, and not for war,
And that's the reason why,
I write more plain than some men do,
That use to daub and lie.
But I shall cease, and set my name
To what I here insert;
Because, to be a libeller,
I hate it with my heart.
From Sherbon town, where now I dwell,
My name I do put here;
Without offence, your real friend,
It is Peter Folger.”
This strong-brained and free-hearted old surveyor of
Nantucket was blessed with sons and daughters nine; and
the youngest of his daughters became the mother of Ben-
AEW3AMIN TOMPSON. 2 I
jamin Franklin. The grandson, when he undertook to
write his autobiography, did not ignore the honorable
memory of his ancestor; by a few quiet strokes of de-
scription he has secured him against being ever forgotten.
At the very time when Peter Folger, in his sea-girdled
solitude, was preaching from the terrible text of the In-
dian conflict his blunt sermon for toleration, there lived,
probably at Charlestown, a school-master named Benjamin
Tompson, born at Braintree in 1640, graduated at Har-
vard in 1662, who was pondering the same text, and who
wrought from it a sermon in smoother verse, called “New
England's Crisis.” This poet's best vein is satiric,+his
favorite organ being the rhymed pentameter couplet, with a
flow, a vigor, and an edge obviously caught from the con-
temporaneous verse of John Dryden. He has the parti-
sanship, the exaggeration, the choleric injustice, that are
common in satire; and like other satirists, failing to note
the moral perspectives of history, he utters over again the
stale and easy lie, wherein the past is held up as wiser and
holier than the present. Though New England has had
a life but little more than fifty years long, the poet sees
within it the tokens of a hurrying degeneracy, in customs,
in morals, in valor, in piety. He turns back, with rev-
erent and eyeless homage, to the good old times of the
Founders, when the people dwelt
“Under thatch'd huts, without the cry of rent,
And the best sauce to every dish—content; ”
when
“Deep-skirted doublets, Puritanic capes,
Which now would render men like upright apes,
* My most diligent search for this book through public and private libra-
ries, and even by advertisements in the public journals, has failed to bring
it to my view. All that is at present known of it, appears to be derived
from Samuel Kettell (“Specimens of Am. Poetry,” I. Introd. xxxvii.-xlii.
and III. 379), who says that he “discovered " it, and then gives an analysis
of its contents and two long passages from it. I can hear of no one since
then who has seen the book. What became of Kettell's copy 2
22 A/STORY OF AMER/CAAW LZ77A2FA 7TURE.
Was comelier wear, our wiser fathers thought,
Than the cast fashions from all Europe brought;”
when, at table,
“an honest grace would hold
Till an hot pudding grew at heart a cold;
And men had better stomachs at religion,
Than I to capon, turkey-cock, or pigeon;
When honest sisters met to pray, not prate,
About their own, and not their neighbors’ state; ”
when Indian impertinence was not tolerated for an in-
stant, and
“No sooner pagan malice peepêd forth,
But valor Snibbed it. Then were men of worth,
Who by their prayers slew thousands; angel-like,
Their weapons are unseen, with which they strike.”
Alas, those flawless times—that never were—those
“golden times, too fortunate to hold,
Were quickly sinned away for love of gold; ”
and in retribution, God is sending upon New England the
wrath and anguish of the Indian wars:
“Not ink, but blood and tears now serve the turn,
To draw the figure of New England's urn.”
Other and slighter poetic work of Benjamin Tompson's
is to be met with, safely lodged in the pages of some of
his contemporaries. Among the complimentary verses
prefixed to the “Magnalia,” 4 are two little poems by him,
one in Latin, one in English ; and in the text of that
work, he has a rhymed eulogy “upon the Very Reverend
Samuel Whiting.”.” Moreover, in William Hubbard's
. “Indian Wars,” is a prefatory poem, signed “B. T.,” that
is undoubtedly Tompson's, and that has some sprightly
1 Vol. I. 20. * Ibid. 510–511.
M/CHAEL WZGCZAZ.S. WOA’TH. 23
and characteristic lines, as these, addressed to the his-
torian :
“I took your muse for old Columbus' ghost,
Who scraped acquaintance with this Western Coast.””
V.
In contemporaneous renown, far above all other verse-
writers of the colonial time, was Michael Wigglesworth,
the explicit and unshrinking rhymer of the Five Points of
Calvinism; a poet who so perfectly uttered in verse the
religious faith and emotion of Puritan New England that,
for more than a hundred years, his writings had universal
diffusion there, and a popular influence only inferior to
that of the Bible and the Shorter Catechism.
No one holding a different theology from that held by
Michael Wigglesworth, can do justice to him as a poet, with-
out exercising the utmost intellectual catholicity; other-
wise, disgust and detestation for much of this poet's mes-
sage, will drown all sense of the picturesqueness, the im-
aginative vigor, the tremendous realism, of many of the
conceptions under which his message was delivered. It is
necessary, likewise, if we would not fail in true insight as
we study him, to distinguish between the essence of poetry
and its form. There was in him the genius of a true poet;
his imagination had an epic strength, it was courageous,
piercing, creative; his pages are strewn with many un-
wrought ingots of poetry. Yet, he had given up to a nar-
row and a ferocious creed what was meant for mankind; in
his intense pursuit of what he believed to be the good and
the true, he forgot the very existence of the beautiful;
finally, not having served his poetic apprenticeship under
any of the sane and mighty masters of English song, he
was himself forever incapable of giving utterance to his
genius—except in a dialect that was unworthy of it.
* W. Hubbard, “Indian Wars,” I. 24, S. G. Drake’s ed.
24 Aſ/STORY OF AMERICAAW LITERA TURE.
His verse is quite lacking in art; its ordinary form being
a crude, Swinging ballad-measure, with a sort of cheap mel-
ody, a shrill, reverberating clatter, that would instantly
catch and please the popular ear, at that time deaf to
daintier and more subtile effects in poetry. He was, him-
self, in nearly all respects, the embodiment of what was
great, earnest, and sad, in colonial New England; even in
his limitations, he was true to it, and was the better quali-
fied to be its poetic voice. In spite, however, of all offences,
of all defects, there are in his poetry an irresistible sincer-
ity, a reality, a vividness, reminding one of similar qualities
in the prose of John Bunyan ; and had these forces in our
poet gained for themselves a nobler literary expression, they .
would have gained for him a high and permanent fame.
Coming to this country in 1638, a child of seven years,
he grew up in his father's household at New Haven ; in
I651, he was graduated at Harvard College, and served
for a time as tutor there; in 1656, he was made pastor of
the church at Malden, Massachusetts; and there he re-
mained, as pastor and physician, until his death in 1705.
In body he was slight and delicate—“a feeble, little shadow
of a man; ”* all his life he had sorrow and pain; yet there
was in him an intensity of spirit that triumphed over all
physical ills, and a tenderness of sympathy that made him,
after the somewhat dreary manner of those days, “a man
of the beatitudes,” and a comforter to all who, like him-
self, knew the touch of grief.
As a poet, Michael Wigglesworth stands for New Eng-
land Puritanism confronting with steady gaze the sublime
and hideous dogmas of its creed, and trying to use those
dogmas for the admonition and the consolation of man-
kind by putting them into song. A sensitive, firm, wide-
ranging, unresting spirit, he looks out mournfully over the
I Cotton Mather, in Funeral Sermon, 26.
* The Rev. A. P. Peabody's description of him, cited in J. W. Dean,
“Sketch of the Life of Michael Wigglesworth,” Io.
MICHAEL WIGG/AES WOA’7”H. 25
throngs of men that fill the world,—all of them totally
depraved, all of them caught, from farthest eternity, in the
adamantine meshes of God's decrees; the most of them,
also, being doomed in advance, by those decrees, to an
endless existence of ineffable torment, and upon this
situation of affairs, the excellent Michael Wigglesworth
proposes to make poetry. Such as it is, it is absolutely
sincere, grim, pathetic, horrible. He chants, with utter
frankness, the chant of Christian fatalism, the moan of
earthly vanity and sorrow, the physical bliss of the saved,
the physical tortures of the damned.
In the multitude of his verses, Michael Wigglesworth
surpasses all other poets of the colonial time, excepting
Anne Bradstreet. Besides numerous minor poems, he is
the author of three poetical works of considerable length.
One of these, “God's Controversy with New England,”
was “written in the time of the great drought,” 1662,-a
calamity of which the author takes advantage for the pur-
pose, as he tells the reader, of
“pointing at those faults of thine
Which are notorious.”
The argument of the poem is this: “New England
planted, prospered, declining, threatened, punished.” The
poet holds the opinion, common enough in his day, that
before the arrival of the English in America, this conti-
nent had been the choice and peculiar residence of the
Devil and his angels:
“A waste and howling wilderness,
Where none inhabited,
But hellish fiends, and brutish men,
That devils worshippéd.
This region was in darkness placed,
Far off from heaven's light,
Amidst the shadows of grim death
And of eternal night.”
* This poem was first printed in Mass. Hist. Soc. Proc. for 1871–1873, 83-93;
from which I make my quotations. -
26 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE.
At last, in this doleful realm, arrive the Lord's forces from
England:
“The dark and dismal western woods,
The Devil's den whilere,
Beheld such glorious gospel-shine,
As none beheld more clear.”
The poet then pictures the entrance of the English into
America, in language similar to that used in Scripture to
describe the entrance of the Jews into Canaan; he chroni-
cles the zeal of the first generation, next its decay; after
which, as he informs us,
“The air became tempestuous;
The wilderness gan quake;
And from above, with awful voice,
The Almighty, thundering, spake.”
What the Almighty then spake, is faithfully reported by
the poet,_a quaintly eloquent and very Puritanic address
to the people of New England, closing with a dire menace
of immediate retribution:
“Thus ceased his dreadful, threatening voice,
The high and lofty One.
The heavens stood still, appalled thereat;
The earth beneath did groan.
Soon after I beheld and saw
A mortal dart come flying ;
I looked again, and quickly saw
Some fainting, others dying ;”
and the poet goes on to give, with the exactness of a
medical man in full practice, a catalogue of the various
diseases then most prevalent in his neighborhood; he also
draws a picture of the barrenness of the fields in conse-
quence of the long drought; and he concludes with a pa-
thetic appeal to the “many praying saints’’ still left in
New England.
My WCHAEL WIGGLES WORTH. 27
Another large poem of Wigglesworth's is “Meat out of
the Eater; or, Meditations concerning the necessity, end,
and usefulness of afflictions unto God's children, all tend-
ing to prepare them for and comfort them under the
Cross.” Here we have simply the Christian doctrine of
comfort in sorrow, translated into metrical jingles. With
nearly all sensitiveness to literary form ºrpid in New
England, and with devout feeling warm and alert, it is not
strange that this clumsy but sympathetic poem should
have found there a multitude of admirers. It was first
published, probably, in 1669; ten years afterward, it had
..passed through at least four editions; and during the en-
tire colonial age, it was a much-read manual of Solace in
affliction. And, indeed, it is such poetry as might still
serve that purpose, at least by plucking from the memory,
for a moment, a rooted sorrow, and substituting a literary
anguish in place of it. -
But the master-piece of Michael Wigglesworth's genius,
and his most delectable gift to an admiring public, was
that blazing and sulphurous poem, “The Day of Doom;
or, A poetical description of the great and last Judg-
ment.” In summoning to himself the inspiration neces-
sary for the composition of the work, the poet flouts at all
pagan help, and utters “a prayer unto Christ the Judge
of the world’’:
“Thee, thee alone, I’ll invocate;
For I do much abominate
To call the Muses to mine aid.
Oh what a deal of blasphemy,
And heathenish impiety,
In Christian poéts may be found,
Where heathen gods with praise are crowned
They make Jehovah to stand by, -
Till Juno, Venus, Mercury,
With frowning Mars, and thund'ring Jove,
Rule earth below, and heaven above.
2I
28 AZSZTORY OF AMERICAAW LITERATURE.
But I have learned to pray to none,
Save unto God in Christ alone ;
Nor will I laud, no, not in jest,
That which I know God doth detest.
I reckon it a damning evil,
To give God's praises to the Devil.
Thou, Christ, art he to whom I pray;
Thy glory fain I would display.
Oh! guide me by thy sacred Sprite,
So to indite, and so to write,
That I thine holy name may praise,
And teach the sons of men thy ways.”
The opening stanzas of the poem give a rather brisk
picture of the heedlessness and sensual ease of the world,
just before the Judgment:
“Still was the night, serene and bright,
When all men sleeping lay;
Calm was the season, and carnal reason
Thought so 'twould last for aye.”
Upon this scene of carnal security, suddenly bursts the
world's doom :
“For at midnight breaks forth a light,
Which turns the night to day,
And speedily an hideous cry
* Doth all the world dismay.”
At this dreadful noise, all sleeping sinners are abruptly
wakened :
“They rush from beds with giddy heads,
And to their windows run,
Viewing this light, which shines more bright
Than doth the noonday sun.”
At once, in appalling state, appears Christ, the Judge:
“Before his face the heavens give place,
And skies are rent asunder,
With mighty voice and hideous noise,
More terrible than thunder.
MZCAZAZZ WZG'GZAZS WOM’7”//. 29
No heart so bold but now grows cold
And almost dead with fear ;
No eye so dry but now can cry,
And pour out many a tear.
Earth's potentates and powerful states,
Captains and men of might,
Are quite abashed, their courage dashed,
At this most dreadful sight.
All kindreds wail, all hearts do fail;
Horror the world doth fill
With weeping eyes and loud outcries,—
Yet knows not how to kill.
Some hide themselves in caves and delves,
In places under ground;
Some rashly leap into the deep
To scape by being drowned;
Some to the rocks—O senseless blocks —
And woody mountains run,
That there they might this fearful sight
And dreaded Presence shun.
The mountains smoke, the hills are shook,
The earth is rent and torn,
As if she should be clear dissolved,
Or from her centre borne.
The sea doth roar, forsakes the shore,
And shrinks away for fear ;
The wild beasts flee into the sea,
So Soon as he draws near.”
After this, the trump is sounded; at which, the dead
rise from their graves, the living are “changed,” and all
are brought before the vast tribunal:
“His wingéd hosts fly through all coasts,
Together gathering
Both good and bad, both quick and dead,
And all to judgment bring.
Out of their holes, those creeping moles
That hid themselves for fear,
By force they take, and quickly make
Before the judge appear.”
2 I
3O AZSZTORY OF AMERICAAV ZAZ.ERA 7TURE.
Immediately, the sheep are parted from the goats; the
former are briefly described ; then the latter, as follows:
“At Christ's left hand, the goats do stand:
All whining hypocrites,
Who for self-ends did seem Christ's friends,
But fostered guileful sprites;
Apostates base, and run-aways,
Such as have Christ forsaken,
Of whom the Devil, with seven more evil,
Hath fresh possession taken ;
Blasphemers lewd, and swearers shrewd,
Scoffers at purity,
That hated God, contemned his rod,
And loved security;
Sabbath-polluters, saints-persecutors,
Presumptuous men, and proud,
Who never loved those that reproved;
All stand among this crowd.
False-witness bearers, and self-forswearers,
Murderers, and men of blood,
Witches, enchanters, and ale-house haunters,
Beyond account there stood.
There stand all nations and generations
Of Adam's progeny,
Whom Christ redeemed not, whom he esteemed not,
Through infidelity.
e º e º © * > sº
These numerous bands, wringing their hands,
And weeping all stand there,
Filléd with anguish, whose hearts do languish,
Through self-tormenting fear.
Fast by them stand, at Christ's left hand,
The lion fierce and fell,
The dragon bold, that serpent old,
That hurried souls to hell.
MICHAEL WIGGLESWORTH. 3 I
There also stand, under command,
Legions of sprites unclean,
And hellish fiends, that are no friends
To God, nor unto men.
With dismal chains, and strongest reins,
Like prisoners of hell,
They're held in place before Christ's face,
Till he their doom shall tell.
These void of tears, but filled with fears,
And dreadful expectation
Of endless pains and scalding flames,
Stand waiting for damnation.”
Then proceeds the business of the court. The saints are
first attended to: they draw near, and receive their benign
award, and are at once comfortably placed on thrones to
join with Christ in judging the wicked. Then, of course,
the wicked have their turn ; and in reply to the indict-
ment against them all, different classes of them put in
their defences, and “the judge uncaseth them.” Thus,
in order, are considered “hypocrites,” “civil honest men,”
“ those that pretend want of opportunity to repent,” those
who “plead examples of their betters,” “heathen men,”
and others, until, at last, “reprobate infants” are reached :
“Then to the bar, all they drew near
Who died in infancy,
And never had, or good or bad,
Effected personally,
But from the womb unto the tomb
Were straightway carriéd,
Or, at the least, ere they transgressed,—
Who thus began to plead.”
These poor little babes, breaking from the muteness of
their terror over all these horrid proceedings, argue, with
a truly precocious logical acumen, against the injustice of
their being cast into hell forever and ever, on account of
a sin committed by Adam,_particularly as Adam himself
was even then seated in quiet bliss in one of the most.
32 A/STORY OF AMERICAAW LIZERATURE.
agreeable and conspicuous of those thrones among the
Saints. With these infantile pleadings, however, the poet is
in no respect embarrassed; and in his poem he has “their
arguments taken off" with great promptness and severity—
a severity mitigated, indeed, by one indulgent concession.
The judge says to these infants, in conclusion :
“You sinners are; and such a share
As sinners, may expect;
Such you shall have, for I do save
None but mine own elect.
Yet to compare your sin with their
Who lived a longer time,
I do confess yours is much less,
Though every sin's a crime.
A crime it is ; therefore in bliss
You may not hope to dwell ;
But unto you I shall allow
The easiest room in hell.”
Thus the last word of argument is spoken; Christ begins
“To fire the earth's foundation ; ”
and to this enormous conflagration are the shrieking vic-
tims of God's omnipotent fury then formally doomed :
“Ye sinful wights and curséd sprites,
That work iniquity,
Depart together, from me forever,
To endless misery;
Your portion take in yonder lake
Where fire and brimstone flameth ;
Suffer the smart which your desert
As its due wages claimeth.
Then might you hear them rend and tear
The air with their outcries;
The hideous noise of their sad voice
Ascendeth to the skies.
They wring their hands, their caitiff-hands,
And gnash their teeth for terror;
They cry, they roar, for anguish sore,
And gnaw their tongues for horror.
MICHAEL WIGGLESWORTH. 33
But get away without delay ;
Christ pities not your cry;
Depart to hell, there may you yell
And roar eternally.
As chaff that's dry, as dust doth fly
Before the northern wind,
Right so are they chased away
And can no refuge find.
They hasten to the pit of woe
Guarded by angels stout,
Who to fulfil Christ's holy will
Attend this wicked rout ;
Whom having brought, as they are taught,
Unto the brink of hell ;
(That dismal place, far from Christ's face,
Where Death and Darkness dwell,
Where God's fierce ire kindleth the fire
And vengeance feeds the flame,
With piles of wood and brimstone flood,
So none can quench the same;)
With iron bands they bind their hands
And curséd feet together;
And cast them all, both great and small,
Into that lake forever;
Where day and night, without respite,
They wail and cry and howl,
For torturing pain which they sustain,
In body and in soul.
For day and night, in their despite,
Their torment's smoke ascendeth ;
Their pain and grief have no relief,
Their anguish never endeth. -
There must they lie and never die,
Though dying every day;
There must they, dying, ever lie,
And not consume away.
Die fain they would, if die they could,
But death will not be had ;
God's direful wrath their bodies hath
Forever immortal made.
VOL. II.-3
34 A/STORY OF AMERICAAW LITERA 7'U.R.E.
They live to lie in misery
And bear eternal woe ;
And live they must whilst God is just,
That he may plague them so.”
The last strains of the poem are singularly appropriate;
they celebrate the felicity of the saints, “who rejoice to
see judgment executed upon the wicked world.”
This great poem, which, with entire unconsciousness,
attributes to the Divine Being a character the most exe-
crable and loathsome to be met with, perhaps, in any liter-
ature, Christian or pagan, had for a hundred years a popu-
larity far exceeding that of any other work, in prose or
verse, produced in America before the Revolution. The
eighteen hundred copies of the first edition were sold
within a single year; which implies the purchase of a copy
of “The Day of Doom” by at least every thirty-fifth per-
son then in New England,-an example of the commercial
success of a book never afterward equalled in this country.
Since that time, the book has been repeatedly published ;
at least once in England, and at least eight times in
America—the last time being in 1867." -
Happily, this frightful and blasphemous delineation of
the government exercised over us by the Good God, has
at last, in civilized society, lost its cruel power over the
human mind, and may now be read merely as a curious
literary phenomenon, as a dreadful example, indeed, of
the distressing illusions once inflicted upon themselves, in
the name of religion, by the best of men. But no narra-
tive of our intellectual history during the colonial days,
can justly fail to record the enormous influence of this
terrible poem during all those times. Not only was it
largely circulated in the form of a book, but it was hawked
about the country, in broadsides, as a popular ballad ; it
“was the solace,” as Lowell playfully says, “ of every fire-
side, the flicker of the pine-knots by which it was conned
* This is the ed. from which I have drawn the foregoing extracts.
SAMUEL WIGGLESWOR 7"H. - 35
perhaps adding a livelier relish to its premonitions of eternal
combustion ; ”* its pages were assigned in course to little
children, to be learned by heart, along with the catechism ;
as late as the present century, there were in New England
many aged persons who were able to repeat the whole
poem ; for more than a hundred years after its first pub-
lication, it was, beyond question, the one supreme poem
of Puritan New England; and Cotton Mather predicted
that it would continue to be read in New England until
the day of doom itself should arrive. -
Among the sons of Michael Wigglesworth, was one,
Samuel, who in early life gave brilliant proof of having
high poetic genius. In 1707, when he was eighteen years
of age, he was graduated at Harvard ; then, for two years,
he remained near the college, pursuing further studies;
then, after an experience of fluctuation between the claims
of medicine, pedagogy, and divinity, he gave himself to the
latter profession, and in its pursuit passed the remainder
of his long life, dying in 1768. It was in 1709, while he
was but a youth of twenty and near the end of his post-
graduate studies at college, that he wrote a few verses
which, alone, are sufficient to show him to have had a true
and fine endowment for poetry. These verses are entitled
“A Funeral Song.” They were written in commemora-
tion of a gifted young man, Nathaniel Clarke, who, after
taking the Master's degree at Harvard, had paid a visit to
England, but, on the voyage homeward, had died, and
been buried in the sea. Here, indeed, in this song of
friendship and of sorrow, we trace once more the touch
of a real poet. Even to his eyes, glad with the gladness
of his youth, the once radiant world, now that his friend
* “Harvard Book,” II. I58. The humor of Lowell's remark should not
give us the impression that “The Day of Doom” was often perused with
any humorous feeling, by the first three or four generations of readers, to
whom, indeed, all its fearful words seemed only the literal truth. Joseph T.
Buckingham mentions that even after the Revolution he read it, as a lad,
with great excitement and fright. His “Personal Memoirs,” I. 19.
36 AZSTORY OF AMER/CAAV ZAZTERA 7'URAE.
has gone from it, wears a sorrowful and impoverished
look; he grieves, too, because into the mysteries and
silences of death his friend has been hurried, at a time
when no pressure of the hand, no whisper of affection,
could tell him of the love and the grief of those who
were left behind. Therefore, the poet, unable to en-
dure the anguish of this thought, would pursue his
friend, even into the far heavens whither he is gone;
would make outcry and inquest for him through the re-
motest spaces of the universe; and convey to him, where-
soever he may be, the passionate message that had been
unspoken here:
“Vain poet's license ! now, if thou canst soar
Above mount Sinai's top, 'bove things revealed,
Put on the winged morn, and speed amain
Where increate eternity's revealed;
Fancy thyself shot through the ethereal world,
Translated from thy clay, amidst the seats
Of highest angels, mighty Seraphim,
Of thrones, dominions, princes, potentates;
Find there a saint in milk-white robes arrayed,
Clothed with the sun, adorned with grace and love,
Who not long since bade this vile world adieu,
To fill the number of the choir above.
Tell him who now is glorified above,
How rivulets of tears have drowned our eyes;
Our hopes are all thrown overboard with him,
Our tumid thoughts becalmed in a surprise.
Put on thy graces, court the vestal soul
To a relapse of things; with all thy might
Sing an encomium of terrestrial joys,
Try if thou canst recall her winged flight.
At least ascend and view the orbs above,
See where he pierced heaven's powdered canopy;
Perhaps his soul left her idea there,
Or stopped to hear the spheric harmony.
SAMUEL WIGG/AES WOR 7'H'. 37
Behold the starry train—those rolling lamps
That burn fierce anthems to the eternal light;
Number those morning sons, and find him there;
Look, look, and see him, with extreme delight,
Warbling divinest airs, and shouting forth
Loud hallelujahs to the Immortal King,
The God whose breath first formed the heavenly hosts,
And quickening gave to every living thing.
Descend, my soul, to the Elysian bowers,
The imaginary shades, where up and down
The blessed ghosts do rove and pass the hours,
In grateful pastimes till the eternal dawn.
Trace every verdant grove, each flowery bank,
Whose wanton edges curl the silver streams;
Search every silent grot, each peaceful vale,
Each circling walk in those enameled greens.
Ask all the rural powers and infant swains
That range in those luxurious paths of bliss,
Ask if or no a comely, gentle youth
Has flown of late into their paradise.”
But, Suddenly, in the midst of this brave scheme of com-
munication with the dead, there falls upon the poet the
thought of its impossibility. Death outwits us! Death
despoils us and there is no remedy Death, “an angry
foe,” “a lawless, tearless enemy,”
“Murders us with an unrelenting hand,
And reaps impartial both the green and dry.
He shrinks not at the manly grace:
See, here he rudely takes their breath :
See, see, the valiant soul gives place
Unto all-conquering Time and Death.”
Then, the fierceness of this invective having spent itself,
the poem ends with one short strain of altered melody,
exquisite in beauty and pathos:
38 Aſ/STO/ø Y OF AMEA’ACAAW ZZZTAERA 7"O RAE.
“Add one kind drop unto his watery tomb:
Weep, ye relenting eyes and ears;
See, Death himself could not refrain—
But buried him in tears.” . .
The genius that produced this dainty music, and that
might have achieved a high career in poetry, soon became
wrapped in the occupations of a country-pastor, and was
content to utter itself, during the subsequent fifty-nine
years of its earth-life, in the commonplaces of theologic
talk. - -
VI.
We are now well entered upon the eighteenth century,
and are next to stand before a most notable poetic per-
sonage, Nicholas Noyes of Salem. His distinction in our
literature will be that he was the last and the greatest of
our poetical punsters and image-manglers, reproducing in
America, even during the earlier years of the eighteenth
century, the most grotesque traits of a form of poetry that
had died out in England, near the middle of the century
before. -
Whatever we may have to conclude respecting the
poetry of Nicholas Noyes, we shall agree that his per-
sonal qualities were fine and strong. He was born in
Massachusetts in 1647; was graduated at Harvard in
I667, at the tail of his class in social rank, at the head
of it in scholarship; he was minister of Haddam from
1670 until 1683; in the latter year, he was made colleague
of the venerable John Higginson at Salem; and at Salem
he passed the remainder of his life, which came to its
close in 1717. This celebrated town was described by a
physician, thirty years after Nicholas Noyes lived in it,
as one in which “hypochondriac, hysteric, and other ma-
niac disorders prevail,” indeed, “seem to be endemical.”
* The entire poem is in N. E. Hist. and Geneal. Reg. IV. 89-90, and is
dated Charlestown, Aug. 15, 1709. --- - .
* W. Douglass, “Summary,” I. 448.
AV/CA/O/.A.S AVO VAE.S. 39
There, in an especial manner, appeared the frenzy of witch-
craft, and the still wilder frenzy of persecuting it; and
in this latter madness the brain of poor Nicholas Noyes
was sadly entangled for a time. It does one good to men-
tion that, when at last his lunacy passed off and he saw
the folly and the cruelty of his conduct, he spoke out like
a man and confessed it—naught extenuating, and went
about among the people, humbly making all possible
reparation to the persons whom he had wronged. This
was, perhaps, the only cloud that ever darkened his long,
benignant, studious life, a life that seemed to lie out-
spread in a lovelier and still brighter light, when its soli-
tary shadow was withdrawn. To his contemporaries, he
appeared to be a reader of all literatures, to bring into his
most common talk great entertainment and utility, and to
be faithful and even illustrious in his sacred office; a true
friend and helper of his kind.
Doubtless he had little expectation of being remem-
bered in our literary history; for in his coyness, though
he wrote much, he shrank from the publicity of print. In
prose, only two productions of his have been found,-a
pleasant biographical sketch contributed by him to the
“Magnalia,” and an election sermon for the year 1698.*
It is his verse that is phenomenal in our literary annals;
for, even in his old age, he continued to write the sort of
poetry that, in his youth, had been the fashion, both in
England and in America, the degenerate euphuism of
Donne, of Wither, of Quarles, of George Herbert. To
this appalling type of poetry, Nicholas Noyes faithfully
adhered, even to the end of his days, unseduced by the .
rhythmical heresies, the classic innovations, of John Dryden
and Alexander Pope.
When Cotton Mather launched his “Magnalia,” Nicho-
las Noyes was one of the admiring friends who stood
* Vol. I. 483–488.
* Entitled “New England's Duty and Interest to be an Habitation of Jus-
tice and a Mountain of Holiness.”
4O Aſ/STORY OA' A MAEA’/CAAV ZAZTERA 7'OA’A.
about and huzzaed, as the huge and dreadful hulk glided
down the well-greased stocks into the sea. He produced,
in fact, “a prefatory poem on that excellent book,” par-
ticularly addressed “to the candid reader.” The first half
of the poem is an argument for the enormous value
"of such a scribe as Cotton Mather,
Whose piety, whose pains, and peerless pen,
Revives New England's nigh-lost origin; ”
and the argument is based upon the indisputable fact
that the American aborigines, whatever else they may
have had, had no such scribe as Cotton Mather, and that,
in consequence, their history had perished. Concerning
all these miserable and Matherless nations we ask, and we
ask in vain,
“Who was their father, Japhet, Shem, or Cham;
And how they straddled to the antipodes
To look another world beyond the seas;
And when, and why, and where they last broke ground,
What risks they ran, where they first anchoring found P
What charters had they ; what immunities;
What altars, temples, cities, colonies,
Did they erect; who were their public spirits 2"
But since, in Cotton Mather, the white inhabitants of
America had at last found a worthy historian, such ob-
livion can never fall upon them :
“Heads of our tribes, whose corps are under ground,
Their names and fames in chronicles renowned,
Begemmed on golden ouches he hath set,
Past envy's teeth and time's corroding fret.” "
Perhaps there were then in New England other persons
that could equal Nicholas Noyes in the writing of “prefa-
tory poems; ” but, throughout all the colonial times, he
had no rival there as an epitaph-maker, and as a fabricator
of punning elegies. In this realm of service, he seems to
have possessed a skill that not art alone, that only genius
! “Magnalia,” I. 19.
NICHOLAS wores. - 4. I
with art, could have given him, at perfectly emptying his
verses of the last atom of beauty, and at SO packing them
with quirks, quibbles, conceits, and the most unexpected
contortions of unlovely imagery, as to impart to them a
sort of horrible fascination—a mirthfulness in the presence
of which the reader writhes in pain and disgust.
When, in 1708, his aged associate, the noble John Hig-
ginson, died, Nicholas Noyes lovingly described him as one
who
“For rich array cared not a fig,
And wore Elisha's periwig;
At ninety-three had comely face
Adorned with majesty and grace ;
Before he went among the dead,
He children's children's children had.”
In 1715, there died in Salem a much younger man than
Higginson, the Reverend Joseph Green ; and as his name
presented a boundless opening for an elegiac punster, his
brother Noyes poured out over his memory nine pages of
most whimsical and distracting verses:
“In God's house we of late did see
A Green and growing olive tree.
'Twas planted by a living spring
That always made it flourishing,
Filled it with sap and oily juice
That leaves and fruit and light produce;
An holy tree, whose very wood
For temple-use was choice and good.”
Thus the poet goes forward, pitilessly ringing changes
on the verdant name of the dead gentleman; speaking of
“Green olive leaves,” of “pastures Green ; ” saying that
“Summer and Winter, Green was he,
Most like the noble olive tree ; ”
and at last taking leave of him with this relenting couplet:
“His Master's work he did so ply,
He did but just get time to die.”
1 This elegy is in the library of the Mass. Hist. Soc,
42 AZSZTORY OF AMEAC/CAAW ZZ TERA 7TURE.
The supreme poetic opportunity in the career of Nicho-
las Noyes occurred, however, some years earlier, when a
Reverend friend of his, James Brayley of Roxbury, became
afflicted with the Stone. To this unhappy man the poet,
accordingly, sent some verses, both consolatory and con-
gratulatory, which certainly ought to establish the fame
of Nicholas Noyes as the most gifted and brilliant master
ever produced in America, of the most execrable form of
poetry to which the English language was ever degraded.
In this poem, the author flatteringly expresses astonish-
ment, not only at the fortitude of his friend, but at his
versatility, both in doing and in suffering:
“What in one breath both live and die,
Groan, laugh, sigh, smile, cry, versify P
Is this the Stone P Are these the pains
Of that disease that plagues the reins P
That slyly steals into the bladder,
Then bites and stings like to the adder 2
Is this the scourge of studious men,
That leaves unwhipt scarce five of ten ?”
He then advances into the merits of his theme, using the
name of his friend’s disease as a pivot on which to revolve
the antic and frantic creations of his fancy:
“For if thou shouldst be Stoned to death,
And this way pelted out of breath,
Thou wilt like Stephen fall asleep,
And free from pain forever keep.”
The poet then proceeds to spiritual exhortation:
“That Stone which builders did refuse,
For thy foundation choose and use.
Yea, think what Christ for thee hath done,
Who took an harder, heavier, Stone.
Out of thine heart;" ſº
and he asks him to remember this comforting truth, that,
great as may be the sufferings inflicted on him by the
AVE W SCHOOZ OF AZOAZ 7'R Y. 43
Stone in this world, they are vastly less than the suffer-
ings of the damned in the next, some of whom
“roll the Sisyphean Stone.”
With this joyous reflection, he also invites him to antici-
pate the bliss of heaven, where
“shall hid manna be thy fare,
In which no grit nor gravel are ;
Yea, Christ will give thee a White Stone
With a New Name engraved thereon.”
VII.
For a considerable time before Nicholas Noyes had
ceased from his detestable labors, the new school of poetry
in England, represented first by Dryden and then by Pope,
had found sympathetic pupils in America. With the ad-
vancing years of the first half of the eighteenth century,
the authority of this school became complete among us.
The unloveliness of the earlier manner of poetry dis-
appeared ; and, in place of it, we find the smooth and
mechanic melody, the shallow elegance, the monotonous
grace, that, to a large extent, served as substitutes for
real thought and passion. During the earlier portion of
the century, an English scholar, Francis Knapp, a gradu-
ate of St. John's college, Oxford, lived the life of a liter-
ary recluse, at Watertown, Massachusetts; and glorying
in a personal acquaintance with Alexander Pope, he at-
tempted to reproduce, on “the bleak Atlantic shore,” and
amid “solitudes obscene,” the poetic notes of his master.”
The two eloquent preachers, Benjamin Colman and Mather
Byles, both caught the new tune in English verse; and for
* This monstrous production was printed in “The Boston News-Letter,”
August 4–II, I 707, from which I copy these extracts.
* Poem by Francis Knapp, among the “Recommendatory Poems,” pre-
fixed to Pope's works. See, also, “Biographical Sketches,” by Samuel L.
Knapp, 140–143; and Duyckinck's “Cycl. of Am. Lit.” 77–78, Simons’s ed.
44 AZS 7'ORY OF AMERACAAV ZA 7TERA 7"URAE.
nearly fifty years, with a fatal facility, to the vast admira-
tion of their parishioners, they both continued to evolve
twaddling variations upon it. The gifted daughter of
Benjamin Colman, Jane Turell, was instructed by her
father to regard Sir Richard Blackmore as a poet “far
above all her praises,” and, next “after the Reverend
Doctor Watts,” as “the laureate of the Church of Christ; ”"
and to this knightly and medicinal bard she addressed
verses—not unworthy of his own pen.”
In Roger Wolcott, we have still another early example
of the American knack of doing a great many things, and
of doing them tolerably well,—a knack that does not be-
come intolerable, except when it thrusts itself, as it has a
dangerous fondness for doing, into the sphere of poetry.
Born in Windsor, Connecticut, in 1679, in a wild frontier
settlement, he had never school or school-master for a day;
at the age of twelve, he was bound as an apprentice to a
trade; at the age of twenty-one, he set up for himself in
business in his native town; he was diligent, thrifty, studi-
ous; he turned his attention to public affairs, military and
political, and became great in both ; in a campaign for the
conquest of Canada, in 17 II, he was commissary of the
Connecticut troops; at the capture of Louisburg in 1745,
he was major-general; he also rose through many stages
of civil promotion, becoming member of the colonial as-
sembly and of the colonial council, county-judge, deputy-
governor, chief-justice of the superior court; at last, in
I75I, he became governor, and continued so for four years;
he died in 1767, a wise, strong, apt, devout, and whole-
some man. He began life in ignorance and poverty; he
ended it, at nearly ninety years of age, crowned with
earthly prosperity, full of honor and knowledge, a Nestor,
a patriot, a sage.
His one human frailty lurked in an invincible illusion
that he was a poet; and, surely, the man who could storm
“Memoirs of Mrs. Jane Turell,” by E. Turell, 29–30. ” Ibid. 28–29.
ACOGER WOZCO 7'7. 45
and carry so many heights of difficulty—might he not
hope to carry by storm the heights of Parnassus also P
Other poets had found inspiration in patriotic memories;
he also. Accordingly, in commemoration of the early
valor and statesmanship of his own Connecticut, he wrote
a long poem, with a title almost as prosaic, if possible, as
the poem to which it belongs: “A Brief Account of the
Agency of the Honorable John Winthrop, Esquire, in the
Court of King Charles the Second, A.D., 1662, when he
obtained a Charter for the Colony of Connecticut.”
This great historical poem, the author forbore to publish
in his lifetime; * but upon one occasion, even during his
lifetime, he did venture into print with specimens of his
verse, to wit, “Poetical Meditations, being the Improve-
ment of some vacant Hours,” published at New London
in 1725. Probably the best passage in the book is this,
entitled “The Heart is Deep ’’:
“He that can trace a ship making her way
Amidst the threatening surges of the sea ;
Or track a towering eagle in the air;
Or on a rock find the impressions there
Made by a serpent's footsteps; who surveys
The subtle intrigues that a young man lays
In his sly courtship of a harmless maid,
Whereby his wanton amours are conveyed
Into her breast; 'tis he alone that can
Find out the curséd policies of man.”
The ordinary stroke and height of its art may be seen
in these lines, on Man:
“For having once rebelled against his duty,
Opacous sin soon blasted all his beauty;””
or in these lines, on Pride:
*4
1 The honor of first publishing it fell to the Mass. Hist. Soc. See their
Collections, first series, IV. 262-298.
* “Poetical Meditations,” I2. * Ibid. 5.
46 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE.
“Pride goes before destruction,
And haughtiness before a fall ;
Whoever pores his merits on,
Shall be endangered there withal.” "
Upon the whole, the “Poetical Meditations” of Roger
Wolcott are sad rubbish. He himself described them as
“the improvement of some vacant hours.” One finds it
hard to imagine by what possibility such things could have
been an improvement upon any sort of vacancy likely to
occur in this good man's hours. For ourselves, we could
have been content, had his hours remained vacant; and
putting our own interpretation on his words, we thorough-
ly agree with the author himself when, in one place, he
drops the judicious observation,
“These very Meditations are
Quite insupportable to bear.””
VIII.
Among writers of poetry intended to be humorous, we
encounter, in this period, at least two that may require a
moment's notice. One of these is John Seccomb, the
author of “Father Abbey's Will,” and of “The Letter to
the Widow Abbey,”—a writer, who, by some untoward ac-
cident, has had an extraordinary notoriety in our early
literary history. He was graduated at Harvard College
in 1728, at the age of twenty; was pastor of a church in
the town of Harvard from 1733 to 1757; then, vexed by
a calumny born, it is said,” of the jealous imagination of
his wife, he withdrew from that parish and from the colony
likewise, and betook himself as far as possible from the
rumor of the scandal that had besmirched him, settling in
Chester, Nova Scotia; where he served as minister, appar-
ently in clean repute, during the remainder of his long
life, dying in 1793. Had there been in him any germ of
* “Poetical Meditations,” 7. ? Ibid. I6.
3 J. L. Sibley, in his ed. of “Father Abbey's Will,” 8–9.
JOHN SECCOM.B. 47
literary force, the extreme popularity, both in England
and in America, achieved by his two effusions of metrical
balderdash, would have prompted him to rise to something
better, even in the vein of humorous verse. He lived
more than sixty years after the perpetration of the ballads
referred to ; but he appears never again to have issued
into print, excepting twice, each time for the publication
of a sermon, the first at an ordination, the second at a
funeral, neither discourse being of any notable merit. It
was in 1730, while he was still at Cambridge awaiting his
second degree, that a queer old personage named Matthew
Abdy, for many years sweeper, bed-maker, and bottle-
washer to the college, came to his death; and John Sec-
comb conceived the harmless idea of celebrating the event
by writing a pretended will, wherein the old fellow is made
to bequeath to his widow all his real and personal estate,
the several paltry items of which are reeled off in some
fourteen stanzas of doggerel, the flatness and vulgarity of
which may be sufficiently ascertained by a single one of
them : º
“A greasy hat,
My old ram cat,
A yard and half of linen,
A woolen fleece,
A pot of grease,
In order for your spinning.”
This miserable stuff, well enough for an obscure esca-
pade of rustic satire or of under-graduate wit, happened
to catch the attention of the governor of Massachusetts,
who, deeming it something wonderful, sent it to England.
Strangely enough, it was at once published there, both
in “The Gentleman's Magazine” and in “The London
Magazine;” and it seems to have been widely read in the
mother-country, as a just specimen of the poetic attain-
ments and of the general literary taste of the Americans.
It is hardly to be wondered at, that, instructed by such
tokens, the English people should have formed very chast-
48 Aſ/STOMe Y OF AMERICAAW Z/7ZRATURE.
ened expectations of the poetic destinies of their Ameri-
can children; or, that, nearly a hundred years afterward,
one famous English poet should have written to another
one, with reference to an American then in England, “I
suppose an American enquires for live poets as you or I
should do in America for a skunk or an opossum.” The
uncommon notice paid in England to Seccomb's lines,
naturally increased their celebrity in America: they were
circulated here in newspapers and in broadsides; seve-
ral imitations of them were produced ; and New England
mothers, we are told, were wont to recite them for the
diversion of their children,_a service, indeed, in which
they may have been not ineffective, since they rise, per-
haps, to the intellectual altitude of the nursery. The
author's true place as a melodist seems to be among the
tuneful posterity of Mother Goose.
A humorist of far more palpable merit was Joseph
Green, who was born in Boston in 17O6; was graduated at
Harvard when twenty years old ; became a successful
merchant in his native city; took some interest in colonial
politics; upon the rupture with England became a loyal-
ist, went into exile, and passed the last years of his life in
England, dying there in 1780. In his time, he had great
reputation for wit, particularly in the form of satirical
verse. His favorite view of things was the facetious one;
he was convivial and hilarious; he loved to mitigate by
his waggeries the sombre tints of life at the Puritan
metropolis; and neither religion nor death, it was be-
lieved, could awe him into gravity, as is partly intimated
in this epitaph, which one of his friends wrote for his
tomb-stone, long before he had need of one:
“Siste, Viator | Here lies one,
Whose life was whim, whose soul was pun ;
1 Robert Southey to Walter Scott, in Life of Southey by his Son, Harper's
ed. 364.
JOSEPH GREEN. 49
And if you go too near his hearse,
He'll joke you, both in prose and verse.”
It may be that, upon inspection of such examples of
his wit as have floated down to us, we shall find that
they scarcely justify the ecstasies of laughter with which,
when first delivered, they seem to have been greeted;
but, besides the fact that the pungency of personal satire
always evaporates with time and distance, we need to
reflect that Joseph Green's fellow citizens were not exactly
persons abandoned to mirthful ways, and that they are,
upon the whole, to be pardoned if they did welcome, at
its full value, any honest effort for their diversion. Of his
merit, no small part lay in his facility; and long after he
was gone, the people of Boston kept alive there the mem-
ory of his exploits of extemporized witticism in verse.
Thus, one day, while passing along the street, he observed
that the Fourth Latin School of Boston was being taken
down, in order to make room for the enlargement of an
adjoining church ; upon which incident, Green instantly
composed this epigram :
“‘A fig for your learning ! I tell you the town,
To make the church larger, must pull the school down.”
‘Unluckily spoken,” replied Master Birch;
“Then learning, I fear, stops the growth of the church.’”
On another occasion, a club of good fellows in Boston,
of whom Green was prince, went to call upon one of their
own number, named John Checkley, who was just then
recovering from a long and dangerous illness. This gen-
tleman, it appears, was noted for the ugliness of his coun-
tenance, at that time rendered still more forbidding by the
ravages of disease. During the visit, it was agreed that as
a mark of their satisfaction over Checkley's recovery, his
portrait should be painted by Smibert; and Green was
appointed to write a few appropriate verses to be inscribed
* Given in S. Kettell, “Specimens of Am. Poetry,” I. 139.
VOL. II.-4
5O A/STORY OF AMERICAAW LIZERA 7'U.R.E.
beneath the portrait. Without waiting for the artist to
do his work, the wit immediately drew forth his note-
book, and, inspired by the countenance of poor Checkley,
at once performed his part of the task, to the general satis-
faction :
“John, had thy sickness snatched thee from our sight
And sent thee to the realms of endless night,
Posterity would then have never known -
Thine eye, thy beard, thy cowl and shaven crown;
But now, redeemed by Smibert's faithful hand,
Of immortality secure you stand.
When nature into ruin shall be hurled,
And the last conflagration burn the world,
This piece shall then survive the general evil,-
For flames, we know, cannot consume the Devil.” "
His satirical wit sometimes took a more deliberate and
a larger flight, as is shown in several rather notable pieces
of his that have been preserved. One of these is a parody
on a hymn—a beautiful and impressive hymn—written at
sea by Mather Byles; * another is “A Mournful Lamenta-
tion for the sad and deplorable death of Mr. Old Tenor;”
another is “The Grand Arcanum Detected ; or, A wonder-
ful phenomenon explained, which has baffled the scrutiny
of many ages; by Me, Phil. Arcanos, Gent. Student in
Astrology;” “ and still another is “An Entertainment for a
Winter Evening,” being a satire upon an ostentatious Ma-
Sonic celebration in Boston on Saint John's day. In the
latter, the poet notices, particularly, the march of the
brotherhood from the tavern to the church, the chaplain's
discourse there, and then the march of the brotherhood
back again from the church to the tavern :
| Samuel L. Knapp, “Biographical Sketches of Eminent Lawyers, States-
men, and Men of Letters,” 135. s
* Both the hymn and its parody are in “The Belknap Papers,” 5 Mass.
Hist. Soc. Coll. II. 70-72.
* Originally printed in 1750, on a half-sheet of foolscap paper; reprinted
in “Am. Journal of Numismatics,” Aliril, 1871, 80–81.
* S. Kettell, “Specimens of Am. Poetry,” III. 382.
JOSAEAEA." GREEN. - 5 I
“Come, goddess, and our ears regale
With a diverting Christmas tale.
O come, and in thy verse declare
Who were the men, and what they were,
And what their names, and what their fame,
And what the cause for which they came,
To house of God from house of ale,
And how the parson told his tale ;
How they returned, in manner odd,
To house of ale, from house of God.”"
Masons at church 1 Strange auditory !
And yet we have as strange in story.
For saints, as history attests,
Have preached to fishes, birds, and beasts.
So good Saint Francis, man of grace,
Himself preached to the braying race;
And further, as the story passes,
Addressed them thus—‘My brother asses.’” ”
His version of the discourse is somewhat ludicrous; and
in depicting the march back to the tavern, he gives bur-
lesque portraits of conspicuous and well-known personages
in the procession. One of these personages, a worthy
citizen by the name of Pue, distinguished for habits that
gave a brilliant color to his nose, is thus described:
“Who's he comes next? "Tis Pue by name,
Pue by his nose well known to fame;
This, when the generous juice recruits,
Around a brighter radiance shoots.
So, on some promontory's height,
For Neptune's sons the signal light
Shines fair, and fed by unctuous stream
Sends off to sea a livelier beam.” 8
IX.
During the entire colonial age, Americans lived under
Some menace of harm, either from the Indians, or from the
* Second edition, 5–6. Ibid. 7-8. * Ibid. 13.
52 AISTORY OF AMER/CAM ZZ TERA TURE.
French, or from both. Hence, they lived in a state of con-
stant war, or of constant readiness for war. As might be
expected, the vehement martial spirit engendered by such
conditions, found voice and stimulation in numerous war-
songs that made up at least in ferocity for what they
lacked in poetical merit; while the most memorable inci-
dents in all these military campaigns were enacted over
again in rough popular ballads, such as “The Gallant
Church,” “Smith's Affair at Sidelong Hill,” “The God-
less French Soldier,” and especially “Lovewell's Fight.” "
In the year 1756, there appeared a little book, without
mention of the place of publication or of the author's
Christian name, bearing this title: “Tilden's Miscella-
neous Poems on Divers Occasions, chiefly to animate and
rouse the soldiers.” In his preface, the author describes
himself as a man above seventy years of age. He excuses
himself “for digging up rusty talents out of the earth, so
long lain hid,” by saying that, when young, he “was bash-
ful and could not stand the gust of a laugh,” but, that
having for sixty years seen many an old scribbler come
off with impunity, he was at last emboldened to venture
upon authorship himself. How much the soldiers must
have been animated and roused by “Tilden's Miscella-
neous Poems,” may be inferred from the following speci-
men of them : -
“Kind sirs, if that you will accept
This petty pamphlet as a gift,
With all the powers I have left,
I will consult your honor;
1 These titles are in R. W. Griswold, “Curiosities of Am. Lit.” 26.
“Lovewell's Fight” is printed in that book; also, in Samuel Penhallow,
“Indian Wars,” 129–136. A song-writer deserving some slight mention is
John Osborn, born 1713, graduated at Harvard 1735; and died 1753. His
most notable production is “A Whaling Song,” said to have been long in use
among our sailors. It is reprinted in S. Kettell, “Specimens Am. Poetry,”
I. I2O-122. It is fortunate that his verses were acceptable on the sea—they
had small chance of being so on land. He was probably a poet among
sailors, and a sailor among poets.
JOHN MA YZEM. 53
But if you throw her quite away,
As I confess you justly may,
I've nothing further for to say,
But spit and tread upon her.””
Another poet, whom we are now to speak of, should be
ushered into this history with the blast of a bugle and the
roar of artillery; for, by his own account, he was, above
all other things, a battle-bard, revelling in rhymes and
bloodshed and the blaze of war. He published two very
military and sonorific poems, upon the title-pages of which
he proclaimed himself as “John Maylem, Philo-Bellum.”
The first of these poems is “The Conquest of Louisburg,”
and is a narrative, in rhymed pentameters, of the exhila-
rating effort of New England heroism, indicated by the
title. The whole poem is tumultuous, gory, and gigan-
tesque, as these lines may show :
“But lo! while ready for the charge they stood,
Death, blunderbuss, artillery, and blood
Blue smoke and purple flame around appear,
And the hot bullets hail from front to rear.
Tremendous Fate by turns incessant flies,
While the black sulphur clouds the azure skies,
And ghastly savages, with fearful yell,
Invoke their kindred of profoundest hell.”
This gusty warrior, who could hardly have moved upon
his enemy with any weapons more awe-inspiring or de-
structive than his own verses, published another poem,
named “Gallic Perfidy.” ” In this work, he tells the story
of the capture of himself and his military companions, at
the hands of Indians and Frenchmen under Montcalm ;
of his own great sufferings during his captivity; finally, of
his redemption and return. He begins by informing us
that he is the same poetic individual,
“who, of late, in epic strains essayed,
And sung the hero on Acadia's plains ; ”
* “Tilden's Miscellaneous Poems,” 18.
* Boston, 1758. * Boston, 1758.
54 Aſ/STORY OF AMERACAA/ ZZZTEAEA 7'0 RAE.
also, that he now intends to sing again, and about some-
thing else:
“But yet in rougher strain; for softer rhyme
Seems not adapt to this my solemn theme.” "
Having thus given a timely hint of the peculiarly awful
nature of the subject to be sung about, he pauses in order
to invoke an inspiration that shall be appropriate. Cer-
tainly, no common one will answer the present purpose:
“Not to invoke
A vulgar muse,_ye powers of Fury, lend
Some mighty frenzy to enrage my breast
With solemn song, beyond all nature's strain :
For such the scene of which I mean to sing.”.”
His prayer appears to have been instantaneously an-
Swered ; for, in the very next line, he is able to chronicle
this state of things: -
“Enough I rave –the Furies rack my brain
I feel their influence now inspire my song !
My laboring muse swells with the raving god 1.
I feel him here ! My head turns round !—'twill burst
So have I seen a bomb, with livid train,
Emitted from a mortar, big with death,
And fraught, full fraught, with hell's combustibles,
Lay dreadful on the ground; then with a force -
Stupendous, shiver in a thousand atoms
But, on, my muse !”*
X.
In the year 1740, there died at Cambridge, at the age
1 “Gallic Perfidy,” 2. * Ibid. 3.
* Ibid. 3. For this remarkable poet our literature is indebted to Har-
vard College, where he was graduated in 1715. The ordinary accounts
of him say that he died in 1742. As, however, the capture of Louisburg did
not take place until 1745, and as he wrote a poem on that affair, it seems
somewhat improbable that he was then dead. Indeed, I have come across
no satisfactory evidence to show that he is dead yet.
AOAAMS B Y SAE VERA / H.A.M.O.S. - 55
of thirty-six, a man named John Adams, who as scholar,
preacher, and poet, had won high reputation for himself.
He was the son of a Nova-Scotian ; was of the Harvard
class of 1721; had served as minister in Newport and in
Philadelphia; seemed to his friends to be quite a prodigy
of genius and learning, being a master of nine languages,
and familiar with the best writings in ancient and modern
literatures; during his lifetime had gained special glory
by his verses, particularly a satirical poem on the love of
money. His death came as a premature and cruel ending
of a career that promised very considerable things. Five
years afterward, the principal fragments of his poetic estate
were gathered up and printed in a book, entitled “Poems
on Several Occasions.” It contains translations from the
Bible and from Horace, and such not unprecedented things
as verses on “Melancholy,” “Contentment,” “Joy,” “So-
ciety,” “The Perfection of Beauty,” and “The King of
Zion; ”—poems not absolutely indispensable to the world's
continued existence or peace of mind. Doubtless, the
Reverend John Adams was an accomplished, pious, and
pleasant gentleman in his time; but in poetry he sounded
no note that was not conventional and imitative. -
In the year I 744, there came from the press in Boston a
little book of somewhat ambitious aspect, “A Collection
of Poems by Several Hands.” Being the product of a
literary combination, it was doubtless looked upon at the
time as a work representative of the poetic taste and skill
then attained in the land; and it has since been described
as a landmark of literary progress up to that date. If it
had such significance, the indications are rather depress-
ing; they report little more than weak reverberations of
the imagery and the syllables of Alexander Pope. The
book seems, in fact, to have been the offspring of an ami-
able conspiracy on the part of some literary friends of
Mather Byles, to accomplish—and with his own entire
approbation—the poetical apotheosis of that gentleman,
and to induce the public to believe that one of the most
56 AZSZ"Oſe Y OF AMAEAE/CAM ZZTERA 7TURAE.
gifted of its pulpit orators was likewise a very great poet.
The first poem, attributed to the Reverend John Adams,
is a metrical gush of adulation directed toward Byles.
The latter is the
“charming poet whose distinguished lays
Excite our wonder, and surmount our praise;" |
and he is explicitly told to his face that there are points
of striking resemblance between himself and John Milton:
“You imitate his airy rapid flights, -
And mount with ardor to his godlike heights.”
Another poem, extending the personal comparison, as-
serts that Byles,
“Harvard's honor, and New England's hope,
Bids fair to rise and sing and rival Pope.”8
Another poem, after reciting the reproaches that had
been cast upon New England for poetic barrenness, finds
in the lofty genius of Byles the prospect of New England's
speedy vindication:
“At length our [Byles] aloft transfers his name,
And binds it on the radiant wings of fame.” “
Another poem, written by a lady, declares that a certain
“pleased goddess triumphs to pronounce
The name of [Byles], Pope, Homer, all at once.”
Among the treasures of this volume, not directly refer-
* “A Collection of Poems,” etc. 3. * Ibid. 3. 3 Ibid. I3.
“Ibid. I3. In examining these poems, I have used the volume that be-
longed first to Mather Byles himself, then to his daughter, “Th. Byles, given
her by her father, Feb. 14, 1763,” then to George Ticknor, then to Charles
Deane, and finally by the generosity of the latter to the Mass. Hist. Soc. In
some passages where Byles is referred to, five asterisks are given instead of
the letters of his name ; but in the volume used by me, his name is written
over these asterisks, apparently by himself. \
* Ibid. 44.
AZZ 7TA S A. Z' GMºA 7"UZA 7TWO. - 57
ring to Mather Byles, we find a dulcet and platitudinous
pastoral introducing our well-remembered friends, “Be-
linda,” and “Strephon; ” also “circling arms,” “surrender-
ing charms,” several “swains,” a fair assortment of “pangs,”
besides one “ yielding fair,” who is “abandoned to de-
spair,” together with numerous other things of a similar
nature. Here, also, are a couple of puerile ballads on mili-
tary events, some unusually silly nursery-rhymes, and even
—so low does the book descend—“A Commencement
Ode.” Upon the other hand, there are a very few pieces
that are not contemptible, the best one being entitled
“The Comet.” It is attributed to Mather Byles himself,
and is in his usual style when serious and eloquent.
Peter Oliver, whose name in our civil history rests un-
der the shadow of unpatriotic subservience to the English
crown in the great struggle of the Americans for their
rights, had an earlier fame among us of a gentler and pleas-
anter kind; a fame procured by his uncommon talents as
a writer. He was born in 1713, was graduated at Harvard
in 1730, and settling upon his estate at Middleborough,
devoted his life for many years to agriculture, literature,
and politics. The most satisfactory token that remains to
us of his gifts, is a poem, published at Boston in 1757,
in honor of an accomplished and noble-minded colonial
statesman, Josiah Willard, who had died at an advanced
age the year before. The poem, though clad in the ortho-
dox metrical garb of the day,+especially having some
vestments borrowed from the wardrobes of Thomson and
of Young, has likewise a strength of its own, an individual
spirit not quite Smothered under its conventionalisms.
XI.
King George the Second died in October, 1760; and the
English people, who, since the downfall of the Stuarts,
had seen upon their throne an almost unbroken succes-
sion of foreign monarchs, now welcomed with universal
58 AZSZTOR Y OF AMERICAAV ZA 7TERA 7TURE.
joy the accession of a king of England who was also a
native of England. This joy, abundant throughout the
three kingdoms both in noise and in heartiness, was, in
the American colonies of England, certainly not less hearty
or noisy; and among many other forms of expression, it
uttered itself here in one most elaborate and most sump-
tuous literary form. The oldest college in America, ob-
serving that the English universities had laid before his
Majesty “their poetical oblations,” conceived the idea of
conveying to the king its own loyal emotion in the same
reputable manner. Accordingly, there was a strong mus-
ter to the undertaking, of all the available culture and
genius of Harvard College, among both its faculty and its
graduates, with the worthy intent of producing a series
of poems in Latin, Greek, and English, that should be-
wail the exit of one king and belaud the advent of another,
and at the same time represent to Europe the progress
thus far made, in the new world, in the most elegant
studies. G
Unfortunately, the inspiration that gives birth to great
poetry does not often come from its vasty deep in re-
sponse to the call of any sort of ceremonial subpoena.
Without doubt, this planet of ours bears upon it at pres-
ent the beautiful burden of innumerous volumes of Official
poetry, tomes throbbing with most metrical and Sonorous
joy and sorrow, carefully compounded in deference to high
command; but seldom is such a thing as “Lycidas” to be
met with among these fabrications. Let us, therefore,
with our expectations well chastened, draw near to this
noble and famous quarto, in which Harvard College, on a
fitting occasion, enshrined its very filial and very colonial
grief and gladness; in which, likewise, it deposited the
evidence of the mechanical expertness then attained in
America in the manufacture of books and of poetry:
“Pietas et Gratulatio Collegii Cantabrigiensis Apud Nov-
Anglos. Bostoni-Massachusettensium. Typis J. Green
& J. Russell.—MDCCLXI.”
A/E 7"A.S E 7" GRA 7"UZA 7TWO. 59
The work is introduced by a graceful letter in prose,
addressed to the new king, and signed by the president
and fellows of Harvard. It makes modest reference to
the remoteness and obscurity of the college, and expresses
great loyalty to the English crown, and great hope re-
specting the generosity and justice of the monarch who
had just begun to wear it: “Your Majesty is raised by
heaven to provide in the new world a retreat for the
wretched inhabitants of the old,—an asylum to which
they may retire from the reach of war, and set themselves
down in peace, sure to reap the fruits of industry, secure
in the enjoyment of their civil and religious liberties, and
exempt from the miseries which distress most other coun-
tries.” The letter does not altogether omit to remind his
Majesty of the propriety of some “royal favor and patron-
age” for the college; it utters likewise the belief that
America is now to become “a more interesting object to
Great Britain '' than ever before—a belief that was entirely
justified by events; and it concludes with a promise on
the part of the college so to educate its pupils “that they
may be in their future stations grateful as well as useful
subjects to the best of kings”—a promise not entirely
justified by events.
The book contains one hundred and six pages of typog-
raphy, which is exquisite; and thirty-one pieces of poetry,
the exquisiteness of which is less obvious. Of these
poems, three are in Greek, sixteen in Latin, twelve in Eng-
lish; all the writers save one—Sir Francis Bernard—being
scholars of American birth and training." Glancing, first,
at the poems produced in the ancient languages, we find
that the Greek odes show a fondness for Homeric words
and forms; that they are Homeric even in their devia-
* Respecting the authorship of particular pieces, there are several tradi-
tions; but as these traditions are conflicting, I have not here mentioned any
of them. The chief value of the book is in its aggregate character as repre-
senting the most advanced stage of classical and literary culture reached in
America in the colonial time.
6O AIXSTORY OF AMER/CAAV ZA 7TERA 7TURE.
tions from the syntax of Attic Greek; and that they con-
tain some metrical irregularities, corresponding to those
met with in Sappho, and the other lyric poets belong-
ing to the archaic period of the language. Of the Latin
Odes, the classical purity is in the main unexceptionable;
though there are a few faulty constructions, besides a
tendency to use certain words and phrases in meanings
unusual in classical Latin, together with a habit of placing
some words out of their regular positions in the sentence."
As regards their versification, it may be said that the
hexameters and pentameters have no positive blemishes,
unless unmusical lines be counted as such ; but that in the
Alcaic and Sapphic stanzas there are a few notable faults
in metre, in rhythm, and even in quantity.”
Naturally, our principal interest is in the English poems
of the book; and we note, first of all, the entire conform-
ity of the writers to the poetic manner then prevalent in
England—a dialect fluent, automatic, insincere. Making
allowance for this fault—a venial one—we find the work,
even as poetry, in some respects creditable; a fact all the
more surprising, since the incidents that called this poetry
into existence,—the death of an individual like George
the Second, and the accession of another individual like
George the Third, are incidents supremely unpoetic.
Undoubtedly, the mourning in these poems is official.
Here is the full, round chant of formal laudation and cere-
monious sorrow; tears that flow only from impossible eyes,
and groans that no one utters except from a sense of duty,
and then only in verse. Compared with the poetry pro-
duced in England with reference to the same events, very
likely this, born in America, was especially honest,-hav-
ing, in fact, the genuineness of feeling that comes of pro-
vincial ignorance, and the enchantment about monarchs
* For example, que is in these odes out of its regular position as many as
ten or twelve times. . w & . -
* As élegantioris.
AZE 74S E 7" GRA 7'0/A ZZO. * 6I
that is one of the many advantages of being at a distance
from them.
In celebrating the glory of the dead king, his American
eulogists point to the material prosperity of England un-
der his reign: .
“Commerce, o'er the broad-backed sea
Extending far on floating isles,
Imported India's wealth, and rich
Peruvian spoils.” "
But the death of George the Second seems to these in-
genuous poets to be an event so vast and so disastrous as
to call for some very sympathetic recognition on the part
of Nature: -
“thy noontide ray,
Phoebus, suspend; ye clouds, obscure the day;
Her face let Cynthia veil;
Thick darkness spread her wing,
And the night-raven sing;
While Britons their sad fate bewail.”?
In her sorrow at the death of George the Second, Bri-
tannia herself is observed on “her sea-girt shore,” “with
head reclined": . - 4
“White Melancholy on her brow
Sat brooding, with her raven wing
Shading those features which till then
With majesty unrivalled shone.””
And, indeed, all these pathetic demonstrations were
most appropriate both for Nature and for Britannia, if the
dead king had been endowed even with a tithe of the
personal and kingly virtues here attributed to him. It
seems to be conceded by these New England bards that
there were indeed a few great heroes and great kings be-
fore George the Second ; and yet the greatest of them,
Caesar and Alexander, are mentioned, only to give em-
1 “ Pietas et Gratulatio,” I4. * Ibid. I7. * Ibid. 43.
23 -
62 A/STORY OF AMER/CAM L/7′ERA 7TURE.
phasis to the fact that they are quite unworthy of being
brought into comparison with the one English king and
hero lately deceased:
-
“No more let ancient times their heroes boast,
Since all their fame in George's praise is lost;
Not Greece—her Alexanders; Caesars—Rome.
For worth and virtue, view our monarch's tomb.
Restless ambition dwelt in Caesar's mind;
He murdered nations and enslaved mankind,
He found a generous people great and free,
And gave them tyrants for their liberty.
The glorious Alexander, half divine,
Whose godlike deeds in ancient records shine,
Dropt his divinity at every feast,
And lost the god and hero in the beast.
Shall, then, our monarch be with these compared P
Or George's glory with a Caesar shared 2 -
No—we indignant spurn the unworthy claim ;
George shines unrivalled in the lists of fame.” "
In fact, to these rapturous American poets even Death
seems rather insolent in having presumed to aim his dart
at such a king as George the Second:
“Insulting victor boast this trophy won
That your broad shade hath darkened Britain's sun;
But, know ! such kings as George but take their way
Through your thick darkness to immortal day.
Indulgent Heaven with splendor rayed him down
To swell the lustre of the British crown;
But virtues, such as his, are not confined
To small domains; they encircle all mankind.
Bourbons to humble, Brunswicks were ordained :
Those mankind's rights destroyed, but these regained.”"
But for all the grief consequent upon the death of the
king, there is at least some consolation: if one George be
—s
* “Pietas et Gratulatio,” 21–22.
*Ibid. 11–12. It is amusing to remember how, a very few years after-
ward, the opinion expressed in the last couplet was, in American opinion,
exactly reversed.
AZZ TAS E 7" GRA 7'UZA 7TWO. 63
snatched away, Heaven is merciful to this extent, that
another George remains:
“In the forehead of the East
See the gilded morning star—
Of glad day the harbinger. -
Sighing, now; and tears are ceased :
Still George survives; his virtues shine
In him who sprung alike from Brunswick's royal line.”
Another of these colonial rhapsodists, not dreaming of
the rough blows with which the near future was to shatter
all these illusions of transatlantic fealty to the Georges,
exclaims:
“But say, my muse, say, who is he
The scarcely vacant throne who fills?
'Tis he the heaven-inspired youth !
The falling purple robe who caught,
And all the virtues of the grandsire claims; ””
while still another poet speaks of the joy with which the
whole British empire sees
“ ascend the throne
A blooming monarch who is all her own.” ”
No one who duly considers this magnificent effusion of
provincial gush and king-worship, from the most accom-
plished gentlemen in America in 1761,–this premeditated
and ostentatious torrent of adulatory drivel with reference
to such dull fellows as the Brunswicks,—will ever imagine
that our war for independence came upon us a moment
too soon ; indeed, it appears to have been as necessary for
our intellects, as it was for our liberties.
“Pietas et Gratulatio,” 18. * Ibid. 5o. * Ibid. 24.
CHAPTER XII.
NEW ENGLAND : THE DYNASTY OF THE MATHERS.
I.—The founder of the dynasty, Richard Mather—His flight from England
and career in America—His traits—His writings—An ecclesiastical poli-
tician—His love of study.
II.-Increase Mather—His American birth and breeding—His residence in
Ireland and England—Returns to New England—His great influence
there—Pulpit-orator, statesman, courtier, college president—His learning
—His laboriousness in study—His manner in the pulpit—The literary
qualities of his writings—Specimens—Number and range of his published
works—His “Illustrious Providences”—Origin of the book—Its value.
III.—Cotton Mather—His prečminence—The adulation received by him—
His endowments—His precocity—The development of his career—His
religious character and discipline—His intellectual accomplishments—
His habits as a reader—The brilliancy of his talk—Contemporaneous ad-
miration—The watchword of his life—The multitude of his books—Char-
acteristic titles—The fame of his “Magnalia’—His anxieties respecting
its publication—Its scope—His advantages and disadvantages for histori-
cal writing—Estimate of the historical character of the “Magnalia’—
The best of his subsequent writings—“Bonifacius”—“Psalterium Ameri-
canum ”—“ Manuductio ad Ministerium ”—Its counsels to a young
prophet—Study of Hebrew, of history, of natural philosophy—Assault
on Aristotle—The place of Cotton Mather in American literature—The
last of the Fantastics in prose—Traits of his style—Pedantry—His style
not agreeable to his later contemporaries—His theory of style—Defence
of his own style against his critics.
IV.-Samuel Mather—His days and deeds—A stanch patriot—The end of
the dynasty.
I.
IN the year 1634, the Archbishop of York, being of an
honest mind to snip the pestiferous weeds of dissent that
were then sprouting up in his province, sent forth his
visitors into Lancashire, for the prosecution of the good
work. Straightway, these pleasant gentlemen, holding
court at Wigan, summoned before them one Richard
62.
RICHARD MA 7'HER. - 65
Mather, who humbly confessed that he had been minister
of the church at Toxteth for fifteen years, and yet had never
in all that time worn a surplice ; whereupon, one of these
reverend visitors “swore, ‘It had been better for him that
he had begotten seven bastards.’” “ Not having any such
extenuating achievements to plead in his behalf, the poor
parson, much against his will, “betook himself to a private
life;” and in April, of the following year, he made his
way stealthily, and in disguise, to Bristol, and thence got
ship for Boston, where he arrived on the seventeenth of
August, 1635. The long voyage was for him both tedious
and perilous; but it brought to him, likewise, its compen-
sations,—one being a spectacle that forever relieved his
mind of some previous carnal embarrassment in connec-
tion with the difficult story of Jonah: “In the afternoon
we saw mighty whales spewing up water in the air, like
the smoke of a chimney, and making the sea about them
white and hoary, as it is said in Job; of such incredible
bigness that I will never wonder that the body of Jonah
could be in the belly of a whale.””
At the time of his arrival in Boston, Richard Mather
was thirty-nine years of age; a man of extensive and pre-
cise learning in the classics, in the Scriptures, and in di-
vinity; already a famous preacher. “His voice,” we are
told, “was loud and big ; and uttered with a deliberate
vehemency, it procured unto his ministry an awful and
very taking majesty.” It was of him that the illustri-
ous Thomas Hooker had said, “My brother Mather is a
mighty man.” “ No wonder that, upon the arrival in New
England of this same mighty man, together with his loud
and big voice, there was among the churches some broth-
erly strife for the possession of him. Dorchester, as it
chanced, was the fortunate church ; for, in 1636, he ac-
* “Magnalia,” I. 448. * “Magnalia,” I. 452.
* Young, “ Chron. Mass. Bay,” 465. * Ibid. '
WOL. II,-5
66 Aff/STORY OF AMER/CAM Z/7ZZA'A 7'UA’A.
cepted its call, and in its service he abode, until April the
twenty-second, 1669, when “he quietly breathed forth
his last; after he had been about seventy-three years a
citizen of the world, and fifty years a minister in the
church of God.”" -
This man, “the progenitor of all the Mathers in New
England,” and the first of a line of great preachers and
great men of letters that continued to hold sway there
through the entire colonial era, had in himself the chief
traits that distinguished his family through so long a
period;—great physical endurance, a voracious appetite
for the reading of books, an alarming propensity to the
writing of books, a love of political leadership in church
and state, the faculty of personal conspicuousness, finally,
the homiletic gift.
His numerous writings were, of course, according to
the demand of his time and neighborhood;—sermons, a
catechism, a treatise on justification, public letters upon
church government, several controversial documents, the
preface to the Old Bay Psalm Book, and many of the
marvels of metrical expression to be viewed in the body of
that work.”
In recognition of his prominence and power in ecclesi-
astical politics, one of his contemporaries wrote this epi-
taph for him: “Vixerat in synodis, moritur moderator
in illis.” Yet, as was the case with each of his famous
descendants, his true life seemed to be among his books;
and he did his share to create the tradition of heroic
studiousness attaching to the clergy of colonial New Eng-
land. On “the morning before he died, he importuned
the friends that watched with him, to help him into the
room where he thought his usual works and books ex-
pected him. To satisfy his importunity, they began to
* “Magnalia,” I. 456.
* Young, “ Chron. Mass. Bay,” 480, note.
& A list of his writings in W. B. Sprague, “Annals of Am. Pulpit,” I. 78–79.
* John Eliot, “Biograph. Dict.” 306.
º
AVCRAEA SAE MA 7TP/A2/8. 67
lead him thither; but finding himself unable to get out of
his lodging-room, he said, ‘I see I am not able. I have
not been in my study several days; and is it not a lament-
able thing that I should lose so much time P’”"
This dying speech of the first of the Mathers was, in its
spirit, the living speech of all the rest of them, for more
than a hundred years. Above all other things, they were
a bookish clan. To them, that moment seemed lost, in
which, if not publicly preaching or privately plotting, they
were not either reading a book, or writing one.
II.
Of the six sons of Richard Mather, four became famous
preachers, two of them in Ireland and in England, other
two in New England; the greatest of them all being the
youngest, born at Dorchester, June twenty-first, 1639, and
at his birth adorned with the name of Increase, in grateful
recognition of “the increase of every sort, wherewith God
favored the country about the time of his nativity.””
Even in childhood he began to display the strong and
eager traits that gave distinction and power to his whole
life, and that bore him impetuously through the warfare
of eighty-four mortal years. At twelve, he entered Har-
vard College, taking his Bachelor's degree at seventeen.
His Latin oration, at Commencement, was so vigorous an
assault upon the philosophy of Aristotle, that President
Chauncey would have stopped him, had not the Cam-
bridge pastor, Jonathan Mitchell—a man of great author-
ity—cried out in intercession, “Pergat, quaeso, nam doc-
tissime disputat.” In 1657, on his nineteenth birthday,
he preached in his father's pulpit his first sermon, a ser-
mon so able in matter and in manner, that it greatly added
to the general belief that here was a youth from whom more
was to be heard by and by. Twelve days afterward, he
* “Magnalia,” I. 453. * C. Mather, “Parentator,” 1–5.
68 AZSZTOM’ Y OA' A MEA?/CAAV ZAZTAEAEA 7"UAEA2.
Sailed for Dublin, where his eldest brother, Samuel, was a
noted preacher, and where, entering himself as a student
of Trinity College, he took, with high reputation, his Mas-
ter's degree in the following year, declining a fellowship.
During the subsequent three years, he exercised his talents
as a preacher, with great effect, in various parts of England
and in Guernsey; and in 1661, not deeming the outlook
an agreeable one, just then, for dissenters in the mother-
country, he abandoned his purpose of making a career
there, and returned to his native land.
At once, invitations poured in. upon him from “as many
places as there are signs for the sun in the Zodiac.” De-
clining to be settled anywhere in haste, he divided his
services between his father's church at Dorchester and the
North Church of Boston; and at last, in May, 1664, he
consented to be made minister of the latter church, which,
thenceforward, to the end of his own life, and to the end
of the life of his more famous son, continued to be the
tower and the stronghold of the Mathers in America.
Thus, before his twenty-sixth birthday, Increase Mather
had found the place of his work for life, a prominent
pulpit in the chief town of the New England theocracy.
There, wielding the most tremendous weapon of influence
known in such a community, he continued to fulminate,
to the delight of his adherents, to the great terror of his
foes, for almost sixty years; and by force of his learning,
his logic, his sense, his eloquence, his tireless energy, his
adroitness in intrigue, his sagacity and audacity in partisan
command, he became, during the first thirty years of that
time, the most powerful man in all that part of the world.
In the desperate conflict in which Massachusetts cort-
tended with James the Second for its own existence, In-
crease Mather was a potent counsellor of the people; and
for several years, as the representative of his colony at the
court of James, and of William and Mary, the Boston pas-
tor proved himself an able and successful diplomate. For
sixteen years, also, he filled the high office of president of
IAWCRAZA SE MA 7THER. 69
Harvard College, without ceasing to be pastor of North
Church. From about 1694 and until his death in 1723, his
political prestige, even his ecclesiastical prestige, greatly
declined ; yet to the last, he was a sovereign man through-
out New England, illustrious for great talents and great
services, both at home and abroad.
Here, then, was a person, born in America, bred in
America, a clean specimen of what America could do
for itself in the way of keeping up the brave stock of its
first imported citizens; a man every way capable of filling
any place in public leadership made vacant by the greatest
of the Fathers; probably not a whit behind the best of
them in scholarship, in eloquence, in breadth of view, in
knowledge of affairs, in every sort of efficiency.
As to learning, it has been said " that he even exceeded
all other New-Englanders of the colonial time, except his
own son, Cotton. On the day when he was graduated
at our little rustic university, he had the accomplishments
usual among the best scholars of the best universities of
the old world; he could converse fluently in Latin, and
could read and write Hebrew and Greek; and his num-
berless publications in after life bear marks of a range of
learned reading that widened as he went on in years, and
drew into its hospitable gulf some portions of nearly all
literatures, especially the most obscure and uncouth.
His habits as a student were those of the mighty theo-
logians and pulpit-Orators among whom he grew up. He
had the appalling capacity of working in his study sixteen
hours a day. One now contemplates with a mixture of
admiration and horror—alleviated by incredulity—the pic-
ture that has been left us by filial hands, of one of this
man's ordinary working-days: “In the morning, repairing
to his study (where his custom was to sit up very late,
even until midnight and perhaps after it) he deliberately
read a chapter, and made a prayer, and then plied what
| By Enoch Pond, “Life of I. Mather,” I42.
7o HISTORY OF AMERICAN ZITERATURE.
of reading and writing he had before him. At nine o'clock,
he came down and read a chapter, and made a prayer with
his family. He then returned unto the work of the study.
Coming down to dinner, he quickly went up again, and be-
gun the afternoon with another prayer. There he went on
with the work of the study till the evening. Then with
another prayer he again went unto his Father; after which
he did more at the work of the study. At nine o'clock, he
came down to his family sacrifices. Then he went up
again to the work of the study, which anon he concluded
with another prayer; and so he betook himself unto his re-
pose.”
His power as a pulpit-Orator was very great, and it was
bought at a great price. On Monday morning he began
his sermons for the next Sunday, and continued to work
upon them diligently until Friday night; on Saturday
he committed them to memory. Of course, on Sunday,
armed thus at every point, he could march into his pulpit
with confident tread. Using no manuscript, he spoke
without hesitation, “with a grave and wise deliberation,”
often with impassioned vehemence. He had, like his
father, a commanding voice; and he used it with great ef-
fect, at times, indeed, “with such a tonitruous cogency
that the hearers would be struck with an awe, like what
would be produced on the fall of thunderbolts.”” It was
a common saying of his contemporaries, that Increase
Mather was “a complete preacher.”
From a literary point of view, his writings certainly have
considerable merit. His style is far better than that of
his son, simpler, more terse, more sinewy and direct, less
bedrággled in the dust of pedantry; it has remarkable en-
ergy; in many places it is so modern in tone that it would
not seem strange in any pulpit now, except for the numer-
ous quotations from Scripture, as well as for an occasional
use of some Latin or Greek or Hebrew phrase. Thus, de-
* C. Mather, “Parentator,” 181. * Ibid. 216.
AWCRAEA SAE AMA 7THAEA’. 71
picting the victory of Christ over the Devil, the preacher
exclaims: “He has led captivity captive. He has dis-
armed the Devil and all his angels, and, as it were, tied them
to his triumphal chariot, and exposed them openly in the
sight of heaven and earth.” The worth of a human soul
—that enticing and ineffable theme of pulpit-rhetoric in
every age—he proclaims in this pithy and vivid manner:
“One soul is of more worth than all the world. . . . Every
man has . . . a body that must die, and shall die, and a
soul that shall never die. To save such a soul is a might-
ier thing than to save all the bodies in the world.” In
the battle of life, here upon the earth, we are not engaged,
he tells us, in an obscure field, or unwatched by throngs of
spectators: “Let us always remember what eyes are upon
us. There are glorious eyes, which, though we see not
them, are observing us in all our motions. The eyes of
holy angels are upon us. . . . And the eyes of Jesus Christ,
the Son of God, behold us. . . . And the eyes of God be-
hold us. . . . It is reported of a faithful minister of Christ,
that there was written on the walls of his study, ‘Deus
videt, angeli adstant, conscientia testabitur,"—God seeth
thee, angels are by thee, thy own conscience will be a wit-
ness how thou dost behave thyself.” Sometimes, he casts
his thought into an illustration so luminous and so shrewd
that it makes further argument unnecessary; as when he
says of the government of Massachusetts under Sir Ed-
mund Andros: “The Foxes were now made the adminis-
trators of justice to the Poultry.”
The publications of Increase Mather defy mention, ex-
cept in the form of a catalogue. From the year 1669,
when he had reached the age of thirty, until the year 1723,
when he died, hardly a twelvemonth was permitted to pass
in which he did not solicit the public attention through the
press. An authentic list of his works would include at
1 “Several Sermons,” 13. * Ibid. I3–14.
* Sermon on death of Rev. John Baily, 6–7.
72 A/STORY OF AMERICAAW ZZZTERA TURAE.
least ninety-two titles." The most of these works are ser-
mons; but as sermons, they sweep the entire circuit of
themes, sacred and secular, on which men employed their
thoughts in those days, divinity, ethics, casuistry, church
government, law, English and American politics, history,
prophecy, demonology, angelology, crime, poverty, ignor-
ance, dancing, the Indian question, earthquakes, comets,
winds, conflagrations, drunkenness, and the small-pox.
Of all the great host of Increase Mather's publications,
perhaps only one can be said to have still any power of
walking alive on the earth, the book commonly known
by a name not given to it by the author, “Remarkable
Providences.” The origin of this book is worth mention.
As early as I658, a number of Puritan ministers in Eng-
land and in Ireland combined to put on record, and finally
to publish, authentic accounts of extraordinary interposi-
tions of Providence in recent human affairs. After some
progress had been made in the work, it was dropped. Sub-
sequently, the manuscript was sent to New England, prob-
ably by Milton's friend, Samuel Hartlib. For many years
it lay in obscurity in Boston, until, by good fortune, it fell
into the energetic hands of Increase Mather. The plan
was exactly suited to a mind like his; and after communi-
cating it to his clerical brethren, and receiving their cordial
encouragement to go on with it, he sent forth proposals
through New England, calling upon ministers and other
reputable persons to forward to him written narratives of
Providential events that had occurred under their own ob-
servation. In 1684, the book was published, under the
title of “An Essay for the Recording of Illustrious Provi-
dences.”.” Thus the work is simply a compilation of an-
ecciotes sent to the editor, or culled by him from his own
observation and from books, the whole being plentifully
One list is given in W. B. Sprague, “Annals of Am. Pulpit,” I. I56–
157; another and better list in J. L. Sibley, “Harv. Grad.” I. 438–463.
* Reprinted, London, 1856.
CO 7"TOM MA 7TATER. 73
decorated with comments and speculations of his own.
The materials are classified under these topics: “remark-
able sea-deliverances; ” “some other remarkable preser-
vations;” “remarkables about thunder and lightning; ”
“things preternatural which have happened in New Eng-
land; ” “demons and possessed persons; ” “apparitions; ”
“deaf and dumb persons; ” remarkable tempests, earth-
quakes, and floods in New England; remarkable judgments
upon Quakers, drunkards, and enemies of the church ;
finally, “some remarkables at Norwich in New England.”
It cannot be denied that the conception of the book is
thoroughly scientific; for it is to prove by induction the
actual presence of supernatural forces in the world. Its
chief defect, of course, is its lack of all cross-examination
of the witnesses, and of all critical inspection of their testi-
mony, together with a palpable eagerness on the author's
part to welcome, from any quarter of the earth or sea or
sky, any messenger whatever, who may be seen hurrying
toward Boston with his mouth full of marvels. The narra-
tives, often vividly told, are tragic, or amusing, or disgust-
ing, now and then merely stupid ; in several particulars
they anticipate the phenomena of modern spiritualism;
while the philosophical disquisitions of the author are at
once a laughable and an instructive memorial of the mental
habits of very orthodox and very enlightened people in
Protestant Christendom, in the seventeenth century.
III. •
In the intellectual distinction of the Mather family,
there seemed to be, for at least three generations, a cer-
tain cumulative felicity. The general acknowledgment of
this fact is recorded in an old epitaph, composed for the
founder of the illustrious tribe:
“Under this stone lies Richard Mather,
Who had a son greater than his father,
And eke a grandson greater than either.”
74 A/STORY OF AMER/CAAW ZZZTERA 7"UAEA.
This overtopping grandson was, of course, none other
than Cotton Mather, the literary behemoth of New Eng-
land in our colonial era; the man whose fame as a writer.
surpasses, in later times and especially in foreign countries,
that of any other pre-Revolutionary American, excepting
Jonathan Edwards and Benjamin Franklin.
The twelfth of February, 1663, was the happy day on
which he was bestowed upon the world,—the eldest of a
family of ten children, his mother being the only daughter
of the celebrated pulpit-orator, John Cotton. In himself,
therefore, the forces and graces of two ancestral lines re-
nowned for force and for grace, seemed to meet and cul-
minate.
From his earliest childhood, and through all his days,
he was gazed at and belauded by his immediate associ-
ates, as a being of almost Supernatural genius, and of
quite indescribable godliness. That his nature early be-
came Saturated with self-consciousness, and that he grew
to be a vast literary and religious coxcomb, is a thing not
likely to astonish any one who duly considers, first, the
strong original aptitude of the man in that direction, and,
secondly, the manner of his mortal life from the cradle
to the grave, the idol of a distinguished family, the
prodigy both of school and of college, the oracle of a
rich parish, the pet and demi-god of an endless series of
sewing-Societies.
It may be said of Cotton Mather, that he was born
with an enormous memory, an enormous appetite for
every species of knowledge, an enormous zeal and power
for work, an enormous passion for praise. At his birth,
also, he came into a household of books and of students.
The first breath he drew was air charged with erudition.
His toys and his playmates were books. The dialect of
his childhood was the ponderous phraseology of philoso-
phers and divines. To be a scholar was a part of the
family inheritance. At eleven years of age, he was a
freshman in Harvard College; having, however, before
CO 7'7"OAV MA 7THEA’. 75
that time, read Homer and Isocrates, and many unusual
Latin authors, and having, likewise, entered upon the
congenial employment of exhorting his juvenile friends to
lives of godliness, and even of writing “poems of devo-
tion ” for their private use. At fifteen, on taking his first
degree, he had the pleasure of hearing the president of
the college address to him, by name, in the presence of
the great throng at commencement, a glowing compli-
ment, admirably constructed to ripen in this precocious
and decidedly priggish young gentleman his already well-
developed sense of his own importance. At eighteen,
on taking his second degree, he delivered a learned and
persuasive thesis, on “the divine origin of the Hebrew
points.”
One year before the event last mentioned, he began to
preach. Being oppressed by a grievous habit of stammer-
ing, he was on the point of abandoning the ministry for
the medical profession, when “that good old school-mas-
ter, Mr. Corlet,” told him that he could cure himself of his
trouble, if he would but remember always to speak “with
a dilated deliberation.” He adopted the suggestion, and
was cured." At the age of twenty-two, he was made an
associate of his father in the pastorship of North Church,
Boston. There, in the pauseless prosecution of almost
incredible labors, literary, philanthropic, oratorical, and
social, he continued to the end of his days on earth. He
departed this life in 1728, having been permitted to con-
template, for many years and with immense delight, the
progress of his own fame, as it reverberated through Chris-
tendom.
Upon the whole, the picture of Cotton Mather, given to
us in his own writings, and in the writings of those who
knew him and loved him, is one of surpassing painfulness.
We see a person whose intellectual endowments were quite
remarkable, but inflated and perverted by egotism ; him-
! S. Mather, “Life of C. Mather,” 26.
76 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE.
self imposed upon by his own moral affectations; com-
pletely surrendered to spiritual artifice; stretched, every
instant of his life, on the rack of ostentatious exertion,
intellectual and religious, and all this partly for vanity's
sake, partly for conscience' sake—in deference to a dread-
ful system of ascetic and pharisaic formalism, in which
his nature was hopelessly enmeshed.
In his fourteenth year, he began the habit of frequent
fasts and vigils, to which he attached a superstitious im-
portance, and which he kept up with increasing intensity
to the end of his life. He desired “to resemble a rabbi
mentioned in the Talmud, whose face was black by reason
of his fastings; ”* and it was computed that, in the course
of his life, the number of his special fast-days amounted
to four hundred and fifty.” Once, in his old age, he ab-
stained from all food three days together, and spent the
time, as he expressed it, “in knocking at the door of
heaven.” -
Moreover, he prescribed to himself a scheme of minute
rules for the association of devout thoughts with every oc-
currence of the day or the night: “When he heard a clock
strike, he could not help thinking and wishing that he
might so number his days as to apply his heart to wis-
dom.” “When he knocked at a door, the faith of our
Saviour's promise was awakened in him—‘Knock and it
shall be opened unto you.’” “When he mended his fire,
it was with a meditation how his heart and life might be
rectified, and how, through the emendations of divine
grace, his love and zeal might flame more agreeably.”
“When he put out his candle, it must be done with an ad-
dress to the Father of Lights, that his light might not be
put out in obscure darkness.” “In drinking a dish of tea
—of which he was a great admirer—he would take occa-
sion for these thoughts, . . . that should have many sweet
1 W. B. O. Peabody, “Life of C. Mather,” 176.
° S. Mather, “Life of C. Mather,” IIo.
COTTOM MA 7'HER. - 77
acknowledgments of the glorious Jesus in them. And
whatever delight any of his senses took, it was soon sancti-
fied and rendered more delightful, by his making such an
improvement of it.” “When the Doctor waked in the
night, he would impose it as a law upon himself, ever, be-
fore he fell asleep again, to bring some glory of his Saviour
into his meditations, and have some agreeable desire of
his soul upon it.” “When he washed his hands, he must
think of the clean hands, as well as pure heart, which be-
long to the citizens of Zion.” “And when he did so mean
an action as paring his nails, he thought how he might
lay aside all superfluity of naughtiness.” “He had many
years a morning cough ; it every morning “raised ' proper
dispositions of piety in him.” “Upon the sight of a tall
man, he said, ‘Lord, give that man high attainments in
Christianity; let him fear God above many: ' a negro,
‘Lord, wash that poor soul; make him white by the wash-
ing of thy Spirit: ' a man going by without observing
him, ‘Lord, I pray thee help that man to take a due notice
of Christ.’” ". In his early days, Cotton Mather was a
great sufferer from toothache; and, of course, “in these
pains,” instead of inferring that some of his teeth were
decayed and needed to be pulled out, “he would set him-
self, as well as he could, to try his ways. He considered
whether or no he had not sinned with his teeth. How P
By sinful and excessive eating; and by evil speeches, for
there are “literae dentales’ used in them.” One would
like to suppose that, at least in the matter of love and
marriage, Cotton Mather gave himself some slight release
from these fanatic pedantries. Not so; for we read that
“he thought it advisable in his twenty-fourth year to
marry. He first looked up to Heaven for direction, and
heard the counsel of his friends. The person he first
pitched upon, was "*— the one who had the honor of
* S. Mather, “Life of C. Mather,” IoI et seq.
* Ibid. 61. 8 Ibid. I2.
78 HISTORY OF AMERICAAV ZATERA 7"UA’E.
marching for a few years at the head of his procession of
three wives.
If, now, we may be permitted to stand, for some mo-
ments, in the presence of this great man, and to make a
study of his literary significance in our annals, it is very
likely that we shall be impressed, first of all, even as his
contemporaries were, by his vast industry, the variety of
his acquisitions, and his almost illimitable prolificacy.
At the age of sixteen, he had drawn up for himself sys-
tems of all the sciences. Besides the ancient languages,
Hebrew, Latin, Greek, which he used with facility, he
knew French, Spanish, and even one of the Indian tongues,
and prided himself on having composed and published
works in most of them. It was his ambition to be ac-
quainted with all branches of knowledge, with all spheres
of thought; to get sight of all books. His library was
the largest private collection on the American continent.
They who called upon him in his study, were instructed
by this legend written in capitals above the door: “Be
Short.” He had no time to waste. He was always at
work. They who beheld him marvelled at his power of
dispatching most books at a glance, and yet of possessing
all that was in them. “He would ride post through an
author.”* “He pencilled as he went along, and at the end
reduced the substance to his commonplaces, to be re-
viewed at leisure; and all this with wonderful celerity.”
The results of all his omnivorous readings were at per-
fect command; his talk overflowed with learning and wit:
“he seemed to have an inexhaustible source of divine
flame and vigor. . . . How instructive, learned, pious,
and engaging was he in his private converse; superior
company for the greatest of men. . . . How agreeably
tempered with a various mixture of wit and cheerful-
ness.” The readers of his books may, indeed, infer from
1 S. Mather, “Life of C. Mather,” 68.
2 T. Prince, Pref. to “Life of C. Mather,” by S. Mather.
* T. Prince, Sermon on Death of C. Mather, 20–21.
CO 7'7"OAW MA 7THER. 79
them something of his splendid powers of intellect; but
they cannot “imagine that extraordinary lustre of pious
and useful literature, wherewith we were every day enter-
tained, surprised, and satisfied, who dwelt in the directer
rays, in the more immediate vision.” The people in daily
association with him were, indeed, constantly amazed at
“the capacity of his mind, the readiness of his wit, the
vastness of his reading, the strength of his memory, . .
the tenor of a most entertaining and profitable conversa-
tion.” ” -
On his death-bed, he gave to his son, Samuel, this final
charge: “Remember only that one word—‘Fructuosus.’”
It seemed the hereditary motto of the Mathers. He him-
self could have uttered no word more descriptive of the
passion and achievement of his own life. There is a
chronological list” of the publications made in America
during the colonial time; and it is swollen and overlaid
by the name of Cotton Mather, and by the polyglot and
arduous titles of his books. We are told that in a single
year, besides doing all his work as minister of a great
metropolitan parish, and besides keeping sixty fasts and
twenty vigils, he published fourteen books. The whole
number of his separate writings published during his life-
time, exceeds three hundred and eighty-three. No won-
der that his contemporaries took note of such fecundity.
One of them exclaimed:
“Is the blest Mather necromancer turned 2"s
Another one declared:
“Play is his toil, and work his recreation.” "
Very likely, however, the astonishment we may feel at
the multitude of his productions, will be considerably tem-
! T. Prince, Pref. to “Life of C. Mather,” by S. Mather.
* Joshua Gee, Sermon on Death of C. Mather, 18.
° S. Mather, “Life of C. Mather,” I56.
* By S. F. Haven, Jr. Archaeol. Am. VI, 309–666.
* B. Tompson, in “Magnalia,” I. 20. * Ibid. 19.
8O AZSZTORY OF AMERICAAW ZZTEAEA 7'URE.
pered if we force ourselves to the exertion of looking into
them ; for not many of these productions are large works,
or represent labor beyond his direct preparations for the
pulpit. As our eyes run along the columns crowded with
the names of his books, we seem to get nearer to the intel-
lectual character of the writer of them, and of the age he
lived in, to find under what remote and freakish designa-
tions even very commonplace subjects are announced:
“Adversus Libertinos; or, Evangelical Obedience De-
scribed; ” “Boanerges, A Short Essay to strengthen the
Impressions Produced by Earthquakes; ” “Christianus per
Ignem; or, a Disciple Warming of Himself and Owning of
his Lord ; ” “Coheleth, A Soul upon Recollection coming
into Incontestable Sentiments of Religion; ” “Hatzar-
Maveth, Comfortable Words, the Comforts of One Walk-
ing through the Valley of the Shadow of Death; ” “Nails
Fastened; or, Proposals of Piety Complied Withal; ” “Or-
naments for the Daughters of Zion, A Discourse which
Directs the Female Sex how to Express the Fear of God,
and Obtain Temporal and Eternal Blessedness;” “Or-
phanotrophium ; or, Orphans Well-provided for in the
Divine Providence; ” “Fasciculus Viventium, Essay on, a
Soul Bound up in the Bundle of Life; ” “Ecclesiae Monilla,
The Peculiar Treasure of the Almighty King Opened.”
The most famous book produced by him, the most fa-
mous book, likewise, produced by any American during
the colonial time, is one to which, in these pages, we
have often gone for curious spoils: “Magnalia Christi
Americana; or, The Ecclesiastical History of New Eng-
land, from its first planting, in the year 162O, unto the
year of our Lord 1698.””
From the diary” of Cotton Mather, it appears that he
* First published in one folio volume, London, I702; republished in
America, in two vols. Hartford, 1820; second Am. ed. I853. The ed. last
mentioned is the one referred to throughout the present work.
* Still in manuscript, and inaccessible to me. For my present extracts
from it, I am indebted to an interesting paper by Charles Deane, in Mass.
Hist. Soc. Proc. for 1862-1863, 404–4I4.
CO 7'7"OAV MA 7THAEA’. 8 I
conceived the design of this work in 1693, he being then
thirty years of age; that in 1695, he published a prospec-
tus of it; that in August, 1697, he set apart a day for Se-
cret thanksgiving to God for divine help in finishing it;
and that thenceforward until 17O2, when the book came
from the press in London, he had innumerable prayers,
tears, prostrations, and elevations, respecting its safe trans-
mission to England and its slow and dubious struggle into
print. On the twenty-seventh of November, 1697, “I did,
at the close of the day, prostrate on my study-floor, joy-
fully receive . . . assurances from Heaven, . . . that
there are good news coming to me from England . . .
about the future publication of my “Church History.’”
The twelfth of January, 1698, “I set apart . . . for the
exercise of a secret fast before the Lord,” for “the direc-
tion of Heaven about my “Church History,’ the time and
way of my sending it into Europe, and the methods of its
publication.” On the fourth of March, 1698, “in the close
of the day, as I lay prostrate on my study-floor, in the
dust, before the Lord, . . . it was told me from heaven
that” my Church History “shall be carried safe to England,
and there employed for the service of my glorious Lord.”
On the sixth of June, 1701, “the Lord supports and com-
forts my faith about my “Church History.’” On the thir-
teenth of June, 1701, “I received letters from London. . . .
My “Church History’ is a bulky thing. . . . The impres-
sion will cost about six hundréd pounds. The booksellers
in London are cold about it.” On the twelfth of February,
1702, though the publication of the book has been “thus
long delayed and obstructed and clogged,” “an heavenly
afflatus causes me sometimes to fall into tears of joy, as-
sured that the Lord has heard my supplications about this
matter.” On the fourth of April, 1702, “I was in much
distress . . . concerning my “Church History.' . . . Where-
fore, I set apart a vigil this night. . . . Accordingly, in the
dead of the night, I first sang some agreeable psalms; and
then, casting myself prostrate into the dust, on my study-
VOL. II.-6
82 AZS 7"O/º V OA' A MEAE/CAAV ZAZTAERA 7"UA’A2.
floor, before the Lord, I confessed unto him the sins for
which he might justly reject me and all my services.” On
the eleventh of April, in a vigil, “my mind is irradiated
with celestial and angelical influences, assuring of me that
my “Church History' shall not be lost, but shall come
abroad.” On the twenty-ninth of October, 1702, “I first
saw my “Church History,' since the publication of it. A
gentleman arrived here from Newcastle in England, that
had bought it there.” Wherefore, the following day “I set
apart . . . for Solemn thanksgiving unto God for his watch-
ful and gracious providence over that work, and for the
harvest of so many prayers and cares and tears and resig-
nations as I had employed upon it.”
The “Magnalia’’ is, indeed, what the author called it,
“a bulky thing,”—the two volumes of the latest edition
having upwards of thirteen hundred pages. Its scope may
be sufficiently seen by a glance at the subjects of the seven
books into which it is divided. The first book is a history
of the settlement of New England; the second contains
“the lives of the governors and the names of the magis-
trates that have been shields unto the churches of New
England; ” the third recounts “the lives of sixty famous
divines, by whose ministry the churches of New England
have been planted and continued ; ” the fourth is devoted
to the history of Harvard College, and of “some eminent
persons therein educated; ” the fifth describes “the faith
and order of the churches; ” the sixth speaks of “many
illustrious discoveries and demonstrations of the Divine
Providence in remarkable mercies and judgments; ” and
the seventh, entitled “A Book of the Wars of the Lord,”
narrates “the afflictive disturbances which the churches
of New England have suffered from their various, adver-
saries”—the Devil, Separatists, Familists, Antinomians,
Quakers, clerical impostors, and Indians.
Here is an imposing array of historical topics; and for
the treatment of them, no other man ever had, or ever
can have, such advantages as had Cotton Mather:—multi-
CO77ON MA 7'HER. 83
tudes of original papers of all sorts within easy reach,
that have since perished ; personal acquaintance with all
the great New England leaders or with those who had
personally known them ; finally, access to innumerable and
most valuable oral traditions, which afterward would have
died for lack of record. On the other hand, it must be
said that for the performance of careful and disinterested
historical work, few men that have undertaken it, ever had
greater disadvantages; since there were in him traits that
constituted an intellectual and moral inability to be either
accurate or fair. He had an insuperable fondness for
tumultuous, swelling, and flabby declamation, and for edi-
fying remarks, in place of a statement of the exact facts
in the case; infinite credulity; infinite carelessness; finally,
a disposition to stain the chaste pages of history with the
tints of his family friendships and his family feuds.
Upon the whole, as an historian, he was unequal to his
high opportunity. The “Magnalia" has great merits; it
has, also, fatal defects. In its mighty chaos of fables and
blunders and misrepresentations, are of course lodged
many single facts of the utmost value, personal reminis-
cences, social gossip, snatches of conversation, touches of
description, traits of character and life, that can be found
nowhere else, and that help us to paint for ourselves
some living picture of the great men and the great days
of early New England; yet herein, also, history and fiction
are so jumbled and shuffled together, that it is never pos-
sible to tell, without other help than the author's, just
where the fiction ends and the history begins. On no dis-
puted question of fact is the unaided testimony of Cotton
Mather of much weight; and it is probably true, as a very
acute though very unfriendly modern critic of his has de-
clared, that he has “published more errors of carelessness
than any other writer on the history of New England.”"
Though the fame of the “Magnalia " overshadows that
| James Savage, in J. Winthrop, “Hist. N. E.” II. 28, note.
84 HISTORY OF AMERICAAW LITERATURE.
of all the other writings produced by its author, it was
the book of a young man—if, indeed, we are permitted to
Suppose that Cotton Mather ever was a young man. Of
the books he wrote after that, and especially in his later
years, several are more readable, and perhaps also more
valuable, than the work on which his literary renown prin-
cipally rests. -
One of these is “Bonifacius, An Essay upon the Good
that is to be Devised and Designed, with Proposals of un-
exceptionable Methods to do Good in the World : ”—a
book quite remarkable for the clear ingenuity and the
fascinating power with which it reduces charity to an exact
science, and plans the systematic transaction of good
deeds on business principles; a book to which Benjamin
Franklin,’ in his old age, paid the highest tribute—saying,
that it had largely directed his conduct through life, and
had done much to make him a useful citizen of the world;
a book which holds the germs and hints of nearly all those
vast organizations of benevolence that have been the glory
of the years since it was written. -
Upon the great and agitating theme of psalmody in his
time, Cotton Mather obviously needed to be heard; and
in 1718, he expressed himself on the subject, with his
usual explicitness, in “Psalterium Americanum,” which is
simply “The Book of Psalms” translated from the Hebrew
into English blank-verse. In his introduction to the work,
he laments that in all the many versions of the Psalms be-
fore his own, “those rich things which the Holy Spirit of
God speaks in the original Hebrew,” are confounded with
the rubbish of human inventions, and all this “merely for
the sake of preserving the clink of the rhyme, which after
all is of small consequence unto a generous poem, and of
none at all unto the melody of singing, but of how little,
then, in singing unto the Lord.”” -
Probably the most vigorous and entertaining book that
1 Works, X. 83. - 2 Introd. vii.
CO 7"TOM MA 7THER. 85
he ever wrote, is one that is also the most characteristic ex-
pression of his later mental development, “Manuductio
ad Ministerium,”—a manual of “directions for a candidate
of the ministry,” published at Boston in 1726, only two
years before the author's death. It describes, first, what
the religious character of the candidate should be; sec-
ondly, what course he should take for his intellectual
improvement; and, thirdly, what should be his “conduct
after his appearance in the world,”—all intended to make
him “a skilful and useful minister of the gospel.” The
book is written heartily, with real enthusiasm for the sub-
ject, and with greater directness and simplicity of style
than the author has shown in any other work. Of course,
being written by Cotton Mather, it is ostentatious of his
vast reading and of his heroic grasp of all studies; it is,
also, in some measure, an index to the state of literature,
of science, of criticism, of general culture, in New England
at that time; and, in many places, it is positively sprightly
and amusing.
As would be expected, he draws out a generous scheme
of study for his clerical protégé ; summons him to make
all knowledge tributary to his splendid vocation; bids him
scorn the shallow and ignorant notions of professional at-
tainment then spreading in New England. He urges him,
for instance, to become a master of Hebrew; although
that language “is fallen under so much disrepute as to
make a learned man almost afraid of owning that he has
anything of it, lest it should bring him under the suspicion
of being an odd, starved, lank sort of a thing, who had
lived only on Hebrew roots all his days.” "
He urges upon the young minister the need of master-
ing the lessons of history, and yet to be on his guard
against the falsehoods of history—a theme on which
Cotton Mather had an uncommon right to speak: “The
instances wherein false history has been imposed upon the
Y
* “Manuductio,” etc. 30.
86 AZSZTORY OF AMERICAAV ZAZTERA 7'URE.
world are what cannot be numbered. Historians have
generally taken after their father, Herodotus; . . . though
they have not all of them always been such mercenary vil-
lains . . . as that scandalous fellow, who . . . hired him-
self out as an history-writer for the highest bidder. . . .
Yea, there are historians of whom one can scarcely tell,
which to admire most, the nature of their lies, or their
manner of telling them—I mean, the impudence with
which they tell them. . . . Be sure, the late historians that
pretend unto an History of England, . . . write with such
flagrant partialities, and are such evident leasing-makers,
. . . that one may as well believe the “True History’ of a
Lucian, as yield any credit unto them. . . . Indeed, the
historians never keep closer to the way of lying, than in the
relation they give of those twenty years which passed after
the beginning of our Civil Wars. . . . Among these, the
romance that goes under the title of ‘The History of the
Grand Rebellion, and is fathered on the Earl of Claren-
don, I would have you more particularly treat with the
disregard that is proper for it.”
In directing his pupil to the study of natural philosophy,
he passes into a satirical denunciation of Aristotle: “When
I said natural philosophy, you may be sure I did not mean
the Peripatetic. . . . It is, indeed, amazing to see the fate
of the writings which go under the name of Aristotle.
First, falling into the hands of those who could not read
them, and yet for the sake of the famous author were
willing to keep them, they were for a long while hid under
ground, where many of them deserved a lodging. And
from this place of darkness, the torn and worn manuscripts
were anon fetched out, and imperfectly and unfaithfully
enough transcribed, and conveyed from Athens to Rome.
. . . The Saracens by and by got them. . . . When learn-
ing revived under Charlemagne, all Europe turned Aristo-
telian; yea, in some universities they swore allegiance to
* “Manuductio,” etc. 60–63.
COTTOM A/A THER. 87
him; and, O monstrous! if I am not misinformed, they do,
in some universities at this day, foolishly and profanely on
their knees continue to do so. With the vile person that
made himself the head of the Church at Rome, this muddy-
headed pagan divided the empire over the Christian world;
but extended his empire further than he, or even Tamer-
lane. The very Jews themselves became his vassals. . . .
And though Europe has, with fierce and long struggles
about it, begun to shake off the shackles, he does to this
day . . . continue to tyrannize over human understanding
in a great part of the oriental world. No mortal else ever
had such a prerogative to govern mankind as this philos-
opher, who, after the prodigious cartloads of stuff that
has been written to explain him, . . . he yet remains in
many . . . things sufficiently unintelligible, and forever in
almost all things unprofitable. Avicen, after he had read
his Metaphysics forty times over, and had them all by
heart, was forced after all to lay them aside in despair of
ever understanding them.”
In this fatherly talk of an elderly prophet with one of
his professional Sons, he does not always succeed in keep-
ing upon the level of ordinary discourse, but occasionally
ascends to the grand style that is most natural to him; as
when he imparts to the youth this consoling assurance:
“I will not now suppose a quinquarticular controversy,
but rather propose a ternaticular period of all controver-
sies.”” -
The true place of Cotton Mather in our literary his-
tory is indicated when we say, that he was in prose
writing, exactly what Nicholas Noyes was in poetry, the
last, the most vigorous, and, therefore, the most disagree-
able representative of the Fantastic school in literature;
and that, like Nicholas Noyes, he prolonged in New Eng-
land the methods of that school even after his most culti-
vated contemporaries there had outgrown them, and had
—I-
* “Manuductio,” etc. 47–49. * Ibid. II.g.
88 AZSTORY OF AMER/CAAV ZATERA 7'URAE.
come to dislike them. The expulsion of the beautiful
from thought, from sentiment, from language; a lawless
and a merciless fury for the odd, the disorderly, the gro-
tesque, the violent; strained analogies, unexpected images,
pedantries, indelicacies, freaks of allusion, monstrosities
of phrase;—these are the traits of Cotton Mather's writ-
ing, even as they are the traits common to that perverse
and detestable literary mood that held sway in different
countries of Christendom during the sixteenth and seven-
teenth centuries. Its birthplace was Italy; New England
was its grave; Cotton Mather was its last great apostle.
His writings, in fact, are an immense reservoir of exam-
ples in Fantastic prose. Their most salient characteristic
is pedantry, a pedantry that is gigantic, stark, untem-
pered, rejoicing in itself, unconscious of shame, filling all
space in his books like an atmosphere. The mind of Cot-
ton Mather was so possessed by the books he had read,
that his most common thought had to force its way into
utterance through dense hedges and jungles of quotation.
Not only every sentence, but nearly every clause, pivots
itself on some learned allusion; and by inveterate habit
he had come to consider all subjects, not directly, but in
their reflections and echoes in books. It is quite evident,
too, that, just as the poet often shapes his idea to his
rhymes and is helped to an idea by his rhyme, so Mather's
mind acquired the knack of steering his thought so as to
take in his quotation, from which in turn, perhaps, he
reaped another thought.
That his manner of writing outlived the liking of his con-
temporaries, especially his later contemporaries, is plain.
The best of them,-Jeremiah Dummer, Benjamin Colman,
John Barnard, Mather Byles, Charles Chauncey, Jonathan
Mayhew, rejected his style, and formed themselves, in-
stead, upon the temperate and tasteful prose that had
already come into use in England; while, even by his most
devoted admirers, the vices of his literary expression were
acknowledged. Thomas Prince, for example, gently said
CO 7'7"OAV AZA 7TP/EA’. - - 89
&
of him : “In his style he was something singular, and
not so agreeable to the gust of the age.”* Even his own
son, Samuel Mather, regretted his fault of “straining for
far-fetched and dear-bought hints.””
But Cotton Mather had not formed his style by acci-
dent, nor was he without a philosophy to justify it. In
early life he described his compositions as ornamented “by
the multiplied references to other and former concerns,
closely couched, for the observation of the attentive, in
almost every paragraph ; ” and declared that this was
“the best way of writing.”.” And in his old age, nettled
by the many sarcastic criticisms that were made upon his
style by presumptuous persons even in his own city, he
resumed the subject; and in a simple and trenchant pas-
sage, of real worth not only for itself but for its bearing
upon the literary spirit of the period, he proudly defended
his own literary manner, and even retorted criticism upon
the literary manner of his assailants: “There has been
a deal of ado about a style. . . . There is a way of writ-
ing, wherein the author endeavors that the reader may
have something to the purpose in every paragraph. There
is not only a vigor sensible in every sentence, but the
paragraph is embellished with profitable references, even
to something beyond what is directly spoken. Formal
and painful quotations are not studied; yet all that could
be learned from them is insinuated. The writer pretends
not unto reading, yet he could not have writ as he does if
he had not read very much in his time; and his com-
posures are not only a cloth of gold, but also stuck with
as many jewels as the gown of a Russian ambassador.
This way of writing has been decried by many, and is
at this day more than ever so, for the same reason that in
the old story the grapes were decried, ‘That they were
not ripe.’ A lazy, ignorant, conceited set of authors would
* Sermon on Death of Cotton Mather, 24.
* S. Mather, “Life of C. Mather,” 69.
* “Magnalia,” I. 31.
90 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE.
persuade the whole tribe to lay aside that way of writing,
for the same reason that one would have persuaded his
brethren to part with the encumbrance of their bushy
tails. But, however fashion and humor may prevail, they
must not think that the club at their coffee-house is all
the world. But there will always be those who will in this
case be governed by indisputable reason, and who will
think that the real excellency of a book will never lie in
saying of little; that the less one has for his money in a
book, 'tis really the more valuable for it; and that the less
one is instructed in a book, and the more of superfluous
margin and Superficial harangue, and the less of substan-
tial matter one has in it, the more 'tis to be accounted
of. And if a more massy way of writing be never so
much disgusted at this day, a better gust will come on.
. . . The blades that set up for critics, appear to me,
for the most part, as contemptible as they are a super-
cilious generation. . . . Nor can you easily find any one
thing wherein they agree for their style, except perhaps a
perpetual care to give us jejune and empty pages. . . .
There is much talk of a florid style obtaining among the
pens that are most in vogue; but how often would it
puzzle one, even with the best glasses, to find the flowers.
. . . After all, every man will have his own style, whic
will distinguish him as much as his gait.” “
* *
IV.
SAMUEL MATHER, the son of Cotton Mather, was born
in 1706; was graduated at Harvard College in 1723; and
in 1732, became one of the pastors of the church in the
service of which his father and his grandfather had spent
their lives. In 1741, in consequence of disaffection in
that church, he led off a portion of it, and formed a new
church, of which he continued to be the pastor until his
1 * Manuductio,” etc. 44–46.
SAM UEZ, MA 7THER. 9I
death, in 1785. In him, evidently, the ancestral fire had
become almost extinct. He had abundant learning; was
extremely industrious; published many things—discourses,
a biography of his father, theological and historical treat-
ises, even a poem ; but there was not in them, as there
was not in him, the victorious energy of an original mind,
or even the winning felicity of an imitative one. In the
strifes of the Revolution his course was both patriotic and
bitter: he differed from some of his kindred, by taking the
side of the colonies against the king ; he disinherited his
only son for loyalty to the Crown; he described his loyalist
brother-in-law, Governor Thomas Hutchinson, as a “mis-
guided and avaricious "man, and as “doomed to perpetual
infamy;” and the whole “body of Tories and Refugees,”
he denounced, in the language of William Pitt, as “the
most infamous scoundrels on the face of the earth.”.” He
was a sturdy and a worthy man. He left no successor
to continue the once-splendid dynasty of his tribe. He
was the last, and the least, of the Mathers.
* S. G. Drake's Introd. to I. Mather’s “Hist. of King Philip's War,”
xviii.-xxii.
CHAPTER XIII.
NEW ENGLAND : TOPICS OF POPULAR DISCUSSION.
I.-Early literary prominence of the clergy—Growth of the laity in intellec-
tual influence—The range of the people's thought and talk during the
second colonial period.
II.-The mournful reminiscences of Joshua Scottow—The witchcraft spasm—
Robert Calef and “More Wonders of the Invisible World.”
III–The diary in literature—Sarah Kemble Knight—Her “Journal”—
Pictures of travel and of rustic manners early in the eighteenth century.
IV.-Samuel Sewall–His brave life—The man—His attitude toward witch-
craft and slavery.—His “Selling of Joseph”—Among the prophets—“A
Description of the New Heaven”—The New Jerusalem to be in America
—A gallant champion of the immortality of the souls of women.
V.—John Wise—His inadequate fame—His genius as a writer—His career
as preacher, muscular Christian, and opponent of despotism—The first
great American expounder of democracy in church and state—His vic-
torious assault upon a scheme for clerical aggrandizement—“The Churches’
Quarrel Espoused”—The logic, wit, and eloquence of the book—His
“Vindication of the Government of New England Churches”—Analysis
of the book—Traits of his mind and style.
VI.—Jeremiah Dummer—His early fame—Short career as a preacher—Goes
to London and becomes courtier, barrister, and colonial agent—A faithful
American always—His “Letter to a Noble Lord ”—His “Defence of the
New England Charters ”—The elegance and strength of his style.
VII.-The almanac in modern literature—Its early prominence in America—
Its function—Wit and wisdom in almanacs not originated by Franklin—
Nathaniel Ames, the greatest of our colonial almanac-makers—His “As-
tronomical Diary and Almanac,” an annual miscellany of information and
amusement—Its great popularity and utility—Its predictions—Its shrewd
and earnest appeals to the common mind—Its suggestions concerning
health—Its original verses—Predicts the Day of Judgment—A noble
prophecy of universal peace—Vision of the coming greatness of America—
A friendly address to posterity.
I.
IN the history of literature in New England during the
colonial time, one fact stands out above all others, the
92
ZTAZ ZAZZ"Y ZAV AVE W FAVGZAAVZ). 93
intellectual leadership of the clergy, and that, too, among
a laity neither ignorant nor weak. This leadership was in
every sense honorable, both for the leaders and the led.
It was not due alone to the high authority of the clerical
office in New England; it was due still more to the per-
sonal greatness of the men who filled that office, and who
themselves made the Office great. They were intellectual
leaders because they deserved to be ; for, living among a
well-educated and high-spirited people, they knew more,
were wiser, were abler, than all other persons in the com-
munity. Of such a leadership, it was an honor even to be
among the followers. And in our record of the literary
achievements of New England in the colonial time, the
clergy fill by far the largest space, because, in all depart-
ments of writing, they did by far the largest amount of
work.
After the first half century of New England life, another
fact comes into notice,—the advance of the laity in liter-
ary activity. By that time, many strong and good men,
who had been educated there in all the learning of the age,
either not entering the clerical profession or not remaining
in it, began to organize and to develop the other learned
professions—the legal, medical, and tuitionary—and, ap-
pealing to the public through various forms of literature,
to divide more and more with the clergy the leadership of
men's minds. Moreover, in the last decade of the seven-
teenth century, an attempt was made to establish a news-
paper in New England. The attempt failed. In the first
decade of the eighteenth century, another attempt was
made, and did not fail; and long before the end of our
colonial epoch, a new profession had come into existence,
having a power to act on the minds of men more mightily
than any other, the profession of journalism.
Thus, as public discussion grew in the number of those
who were participators in it, so also did it increase in the
variety of its methods, and in the range of its themes.
Henceforward we may trace the intellectual life of New
94 AZSTORY OF AMERICAAW Z/7ZZRA 7'URAE.
England, not merely in sermons, in formal theological
treatises, in grave narratives of civil and military experi-
ence, in Sombre and painful religious poetry, but likewise
in compact literary essays, in pamphlets sprightly or brutal
or stupid, in satires, in almanacs, in popular songs, in edi-
torial articles. Public discussion became secularized. At
last, even this world began to receive some attention, and
to be written about. Witchcraft, state-craft, the small-pox,
the behavior of the royal governors, the words and deeds
of preachers, quarrels of churches, quarrels of towns and
of colonies, agriculture, the currency, repudiation, manu-
factures, the training of soldiers, the founding of colleges,
Whitefield, religious mania, dress, drunkenness, wars with
the Indians, wars with the French, earthquakes, comets,
the new wonders of science, the impiety of averting light-
ning by the “electrical points,” the truth of Christianity,
the damnation of infants, the right to think, the conquest
of Canada, the consolidation of the English colonies in
America, the grand future of the American continent, the
virtues of the English kings, the love and loyalty of Amer-
ica for England,-these were some of the subjects that,
year by year, along our second colonial period, possessed
the thoughts of men and women in New England, and
found some sort of utterance in literature.
II.
In 1691, a thrifty old merchant of Boston, Joshua Scot-
tow," who had grown up with the colony almost from the
beginning, published a little book of senile lamentations
over the degeneracy of the age. It was called “Old Men's
Tears for their own Declensions.” . Encouraged by this
* Born probably 1615, died 1698. Sketch of him in 2 Mass. Hist. Soc.
Coll. IV. Ioo—IOA.
* A second edition was published in 1749, but without the best part of it,
the “Address to the Reader.”
ROBERT CALEF. 95
stroke at authorship, he gave to the press, three years
afterward, “A Narrative of the Planting of the Massachu-
setts Colony,” beginning with 1628, and particularly ac-
centing the fact of “the Lord's signal presence the first
thirty years.” Both books have some historical and psycho-
logical value, but as literature are worthless. His method
of expression is spasmodic, ecstatic, full of apocalyptic
symbols, cant, forced allusions, and the croakings of de-
crepitude. In the dedication of his second book to Simon
Bradstreet, he had the good sense to anticipate that his
writings might be pronounced “the delirious dotage of his
puerile and superannuated brains.”
The paroxysms of terror and of frenzy into which, dur-
ing the last decade of the seventeenth century, multitudes
of people in New England were thrown by the witchcraft
excitement, gave birth to numerous publications, chiefly
hortatory, minatory, and inflammatory; and to one publi-
cation that was at least rational, “More Wonders of the
Invisible World,” published in London in 1700, and writ-
ten by a merchant of Boston, Robert Calef, then forty-
eight years of age.” Though the book is quite destitute
of literary expertness; is without symmetry in substance
or felicity in form ; is, indeed, a hodge-pudding of facts,
hints, queries, and conjectures; it is not destitute of ex-
pertness of other kinds,-particularly that kind of expert-
ness which, in a time of general enravishment, may enable
one cool head to be an antidote to a multitude of hot
ones. It is a reservoir of weird psychological phenomena,
first frankly described in the credulous speech of the
brotherhood and sisterhood of victims, then chilled and
taken to pieces by a process of Sadducean counter-evi-
dence and cross-examination. It is, also, a monument of
the moral courage and the intellectual poise of its author;
of his firm, placid tenacity in demanding some real evi-
* Reprinted in 4 Mass. Hist. Soc. Coll. IV. 279-330.
° N. E. Hist. and Gen. Reg. XXX. 461.
96 AZS 7'ORY OA' A MAEA’ACAAW Z/7′ERA 7"UAEA2.
dence as the price of his belief; of his obstinate incredulity
to the end ; all this in contrast with the intolerant eager-
ness of his contemporaries to rush headlong into folly;
their hectic mental spasms; and their appetency—at once
voracious and ferocious—for marvels, born in malice or in
madness, and ending in infamy and in death. For the
chief clerical leaders in the witchcraft excitement, espe-
cially the two Mathers, this book, both by its scepticism
and by its personal irreverence, was most exasperating.
The younger of these two divines wreaked his rage upon the
book by calling it “a firebrand thrown by a madman; ”"
and the elder of them, at that time president of Harvard
College, tried to extinguish the book by having it publicly
burned in the college-yard. But its peculiar power could
not be stifled in a hangman's smudge ; and one may truly
say of it, that it went far to unmadden a whole population
of devout and learned lunatics.
III.
There is one form of writing—the diary—that costs lit-
tle to produce ; that is usually valued at little by its pro-
ducers; but that often gathers incalculable worth with
time, outlives many laborious and ambitious literary mon-
uments, and becomes a storehouse of treasures for histo-
rians, poets, and painters. It cannot be said that our an-
cestors failed to write diaries. Unluckily, however, the
diaries that they wrote in great abundance, were generally
records of events which took place only inside of them;
psychological diaries, more or less mystical and unhealthy;
chronicles of tender, scrupulous, introverted natures, mis-
led into gratuitous self-torture; narratives of their own
spiritual moods fluctuating hour by hour, of the visitations
of Satan, of dulness or of ecstasy in prayer, of doubts or
hopes respecting their share in the divine decrees; itiner-
* C. Mather, “Some Few Remarks upon a Scandalous Book,” 5.
SA/24 H K EMBA. KTAVIGH/7. 97
aries of daily religious progress, aggravated by overwork,
indigestion, and a gospel of gloom.
There has come down to us, however, from our second
literary period, one specimen of the diary, which, though
crude enough in texture, is refreshingly carnal, external,
and healthy. It is “The Journal” kept by Mistress Sarah
Kemble Knight, a dame of Boston—buxom, blithe, and
debonair—who in October, 1704, being then thirty-eight
years of age, a wife and a mother, travelled on horseback
from Boston through Rhode Island and southern Con-
necticut to New Haven, a journey of five days; thence, in
December, to New York, a journey of two days; returning
home by the same route, and reaching Boston in March,
1705. In the pauses of her journey each day, she carefully
jotted down her adventures and her own comments upon
them, doing this with no little sprightliness and graphic
power. The roads were rough, often uncertain; the cross-
ings of the rivers were perilous; the inns were abominable;
the manners of the people churlish, their speech a jargon
of disgusting slang. Her “Journal,” published for the
first time in 1825," is an amusing little book, and has special
value as a realistic picture of rural manners in New York
and New England in the first decade of the eighteenth
century. She had no companions upon her expedition,
except as she hired them or fell in with them by the way;
and she bore the annoyances of the journey with a sort of
mocking and recalcitrant resignation, which was only saved
from going to pieces altogether by help of an eye quick
to see the ludicrous aspects of disagreeable things—partic-.
ularly as soon as they were past. Her note-book, indeed,
was a sovereign safety-valve to her, forming a harmless
conduit through which she could pour her hourly vexa-
tions, in playful little puffs of prose and verse. Thus,
having to cross a certain river, and not daring to do so by
! Edited by Theodore Dwight. Reprinted, with new preface and addi-
tional information about her, Albany, 1865.
VOL. II.-7
98 AZYSTOR P OF AMERACA AV ZAZTERA 7'UAEA2.
fording it on horseback, she went over it in a wretched
canoe—a far less safe ferry-boat than her horse would have
been. “The canoe was very small and shallow, so that
when we were in,” it “seemed ready to take in water,
which greatly terrified me, and caused me to be very cir-
cumspect, sitting with my hands fast on each side, my eyes
steady, not daring so much as to lodge my tongue a hair's
breadth more on one side of my mouth than t’other, nor SO
much as think on Lot's wife; for a wry thought would
have overset our wherry.” ". On another day, as she relates,
the road was furnished even worse than usual “with ac-
commodations for travellers, so that we were forced to
ride twenty-two miles by the post's account, but nearer
thirty by mine, before we could bait so much as our horses,
which I exceedingly complained of. But the post encour-
aged me by saying we should be well accommodated anon
at Mr. Devil's, a few miles further; but I questioned
whether we ought to go to the Devil to be helped out
of affliction. However, like the rest of deluded souls that
post to the infernal den, we made all possible speed to this
Devil's habitation ; where, alighting in full assurance of
good accommodation, we were going in ; but meeting his
two daughters, (as I supposed, twins—they so nearly resem-
bled each other, both in features and habit, and looked as
old as the Devil himself, and quite as ugly,) we desired en-
tertainment, but could hardly get a word out of them, till
with our importunity . . . they called the old sophister;
who was as sparing of his words as his daughters had been.
. . . He differed only in this from the old fellow in tºother
country—he let us depart. However, I thought it proper
to warn poor travellers to endeavor to avoid falling into
circumstances like ours, which at our next stage I sat
down and did, as followeth :
May all that dread the cruel Fiend of Night
Keep on, and not at this curst mansion light.
1 $ 6 Journa .” I5–16.
SAM UAE Z SAE WALA. 99
"Tis hell; 'tis hell; and Devils here do dwell;
Here dwells the Devil—surely this is hell.
Nothing but wants—a drop to cool your tongue
Can't be procured these cruel fiends among.
Plenty of horrid grins, and looks severe,
Hunger and thirst; but pity's banished here.
The right hand keep, if hell on earth you fear !”.'
IV.
A strong, gentle, and great man was Samuel Sewall, great
by almost every measure of greatness, moral courage,
honor, benevolence, learning, eloquence, intellectual force
and breadth and brightness. Both his father and his grand-
father were among the pioneers of New England coloniza-
tion; although his father, who founded the town of New-
bury, Massachusetts, seems to have passed and repassed
between England and America without bringing hither his
wife and children, until 1661, when the boy, Samuel, was
nine years old. This boy, destined to great usefulness and
distinction in the new world, thus came to it in time to
have that personal shaping for his life here, only to be got
from early and direct contact with it. He had the usual
education of a New England gentleman in those days. He
was graduated at Harvard College. He tried his hand
for a time at preaching, a vocation for which he was
well qualified, but from which he was diverted into a pros-
perous and benign secular career. He became a member
of the board of assistants, then of the council, judge of
the Supreme court, and finally its chief-justice, holding the
latter office until 1728, two years after which date he died.
He was a man built, every way, after a large pattern. By
his great wealth, his great offices, his learning, his strong
sense, his wit, his warm human sympathy, his fearlessness,
his magnanimity, he was a visible potentate among men in
those days.
* “Journal,” 25–26.
:
".
;
:
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i
IOO AZSTORY OF AMERACAAW ZZZTERA 7'URAE.
“Stately and slow, with thoughtful air,
His black cap hiding his whitened hair,
Walks the Judge of the great Assize,
Samuel Sewall, the good and wise.
His face with lines of firmness wrought,
He wears the look of a man unbought,
Who swears to his hurt and changes not;
Yet touched and softened nevertheless
With the grace of Christian gentleness;
The face that a child would climb to kiss;
True and tender and brave and just,
That man might honor and woman trust.” "
He had the courage to rebuke the faults of other people;
he had the still greater courage to confess his own. Hav-
ing, in 1692, fallen into the witchcraft snare, and having
from the bench joined in the sentence of condemnation
upon the witches, five years later—when more light had
broken into his mind—he made in church a public con-
fession of his error and of his sorrow. The Indians of
Massachusetts had then no wiser or more generous friend
than he ; and he was, perhaps, the first of Americans to see
and renounce and denounce the crime of negro slavery as
then practised in New England. In 17OO, he spoke out
plainly on this subject, publishing a tract named “The
Selling of Joseph; ”* an acute, compact, powerful state-
ment of the case against American slavery, leaving, in-
deed, almost nothing new to be said a century and a half
afterward, when the sad thing came up for final adjust-
ment. In this pamphlet one sees traces both of his theo-
logical and his legal studies; it is a lawyer's brief, fortified
by Scriptural texts, and illuminated by lofty ethical intu-
itions. Within those three pages he has left some strong
and great words—immortal and immutable aphorisms of
equity: “Liberty is in real value next unto life; none
* J. G. Whittier, “Prophecy of Samuel Sewall.” Works, II. I41.
* First printed in a folio of three pages, at Boston, 1700. Reprinted in
Mass. Hist, Spc. Proc. for 1863–1864, 161–165. I quote from the reprint.
C &
:
:
:
i
:
SAMUE/C SAE WAL/C. IOI
ought to part with it themselves or deprive others of it,
but upon most mature consideration.” “All men, as they
are the sons of Adam, are co-heirs, and have equal right
unto liberty, and all other outward comforts of life.””
“Originally and naturally there is no such thing as slave-
ry.” “There is no proportion between twenty pieces of
silver and liberty.”*
All his lifetime he made the Biblical prophecies his fa-
vorite study, a study out of which all manner of marvels,
not always edifying, may be educed upon occasion ; and
the special marvel drawn from them by this sagacious
Puritan judge was their palpable predictions of America
as the final “rendezvous for Gog and Magog,” and as the
true seat of the New Jerusalem. In his “Phaenomena
Quaedam Apocalyptica; . . . or . . . a Description of the
New Heaven as it makes to those who stand upon the
New Earth,” a book first published in 1697,” he unfolds
this theory, going over the applicable prophecies clause by
clause. Toward the end of his book, he replies to the
objections that might be urged against his doctrine,—one
of them being that in America the human race inevitably
deteriorates, becomes barren, dies off early. The accusa-
tion he repels with an affluence of facts illustrating the
productiveness and longevity of the human family here;
and having done so, he rises into this rhythmical and
triumphant passage, which in its quaint melody of learned
phrase, and in a gentle humor that lurks and loses itself
in the stiff folds of his own solemnity, has a suggestion
of the quality of Sir Thomas Browne : “As long as Plum
Island shall faithfully keep the commanded post, notwith-
standing all the hectoring words and hard blows of the
proud and boisterous ocean; as long as any salmon or
sturgeon shall swim in the streams of Merrimac, or any
perch or pickerel in Crane Pond; as long as the sea-fowl
* “The Selling of Joseph,” 16I. ? Ibid. I6I. 3 Ibid. I62.
* Ibid. I62. * Reprinted, Boston, 1727.
IO2 AZSZTOMe Y OF AMER/CAAW L/7ZACA 2'UAEA.
shall know the time of their coming, and not neglect
seasonably to visit the places of their acquaintance; as
long as any cattle shall be fed with the grass growing
in the meadows, which do humbly bow down themselves
before Turkey-Hill; as long as any sheep shall walk upon
Old-Town Hills, and shall from thence pleasantly look
down upon the River Parker, and the fruitful marshes
lying beneath; as long as any free and harmless doves
shall find a white oak or other tree within the township,
to perch, or feed, or build a careless nest upon, and shall
voluntarily present themselves to perform the office of
gleaners after barley-harvest; as long as Nature shall not
grow old and dote, but shall constantly remember to give
the rows of Indian corn their education by pairs; so long
shall Christians be born there, and being first made meet,
shall from thence be translated to be made partakers of
the inheritance of the saints in light.” "
It gives still another charm to the memory of this prac-
tical and hard-headed mystic of New England, this wide-
Souled and speculative
- “Puritan,
Who the halting step of his age outran,”
to discover, that, in a matter of very serious concern, he
had the chivalry to come forward as the champion of
woman. He tells us that once, while “waiting upon a dear
child in her last sickness,” he took up a book to read. It
was a book called “The British Apollo.” Presently, his
eye fell upon a startling question, worded thus: “Is there
now, or will there be at the resurrection, any females in
heaven; since there seems to be no need of them there?”
1 “Phaenomena,” etc. 63. The reader will recall the use of this passage
made by Whittier in his delightful poem, “The Prophecy of Samuel Sewall.”
The old Puritan’s prose in this case is more poetic than the poet's metrical
paraphrase of it. Whittier speaks of Newbury as Sewall’s “native town ;”
but Sewall was born at Horton, England. He also describes Sewall as an
“old man,” “propped on his staff of age" when he made this prophecy; but
Sewall was then forty-five years old.
SAMUEL SE WAZZ. IO3
Very likely he then closed the book; and there, by the
death-bed of his daughter, over whose resurrection this
question threw its cold shadow, his mind set to work upon
the problem thus presented; and afterward he fully re-
solved it, in an essay bearing this delectable title: “Talitha
Cumi; or, An Invitation to Women to look after their In-
heritance in the Heavenly Mansions.” He begins by quot-
ing the question that he had met with ; then he proceeds to
say: “This malapert question had not patience to stay
for an answer, as appears by the conclusion of it—‘since
there seems to be no need of them there.' 'Tis most cer-
tain there will be no needless, impertinent persons or
things in heaven. Heaven is a roomy, a most magnificent
palace, furnished with the most rich and splendid enter-
tainments; and the noblest guests are invited to partake
of them. But why should there seem to be no need of
women in heaven 2 . . . To speak the truth, God has no
need of any creature. His name is exalted far above all
blessing and praise. But by the same argument there will
be no angels nor men in heaven, because there is no need
of them there.” He then discusses, with judge-like care
and fulness, all the arguments, on both sides, that may be
drawn from reason, Scripture, and the ancient and mod-
ern theologians, reaching at last this assertion: “There
are three women that shall rise again,_Eve, the mother
of all living; Sarah, the mother of the faithful; and Mary,
the mother of our Lord. And if these three rise again,
without doubt all will.” In the course of the discussion
he meets the objection that, upon a certain branch of his
subject, “the ancients are divided in their opinions.” His
answer to this objection comes edged by a flash of wit:
“If we should wait till all the ancients are agreed in their
opinions, neither men nor women would ever get to
heaven.” +
* Selections from Sewall MSS. Mass. Hist. Soc. Proc. for 1873, 380-384.
Other published writings of Sewall’s are “Answer to Queries respecting
IO4 Aſ/STORY OF AMER/CAAW Z/7'ERA TURE.
V.
When Chaucer visited the house of the goddess Fame,
he observed that the outer gate
“so well y-corven was,
That never suche another nas;
And yit it was be aventure
Ywrought, as often as be cure.” "
It is an illustration of the caprice which everywhere
prevails in the domain of this goddess, that the one
American who, upon the whole, was the most powerful
and brilliant prose-writer produced in this country during
the colonial time, and who in his day enjoyed a sovereign
reputation in New England, should have passed since.
then into utter obscurity; while several of his contempo-
raries, particularly Increase and Cotton Mather, who were
far inferior to him in genius, have names that are still re-
sounding in our memories. This writer was John Wise,
born at Roxbury, probably in 1652; graduated at Harvard
College in 1673; and, from 1680 until his death in 1725,
minister of the Second Church of Ipswich. He had almost
every quality that gives distinction among men. He was
of towering height, of great muscular power, stately and
graceful in shape and movement; in his advancing years,
of an aspect most venerable. His parishioners long re-
membered with pride how a certain famous and blustering
hero from Andover, the mighty wrestler of all that region,
once came down to Ipswich for the purpose of challeng-
ing their stalwart parson to a friendly trial of strength
at wrestling; and how the parson, after much solicitation,
America,” 1690; “Proposals Touching Accomplishment of Prophecies,”
I713. Voluminous manuscripts of his, including his diary for about forty
years, are now in possession of the Mass. Hist. Soc., and are rich materials
for the illustration of those times.
* Works of Chaucer, Aldine ed. V. 248.
JOILV WISE. IO5
at last reluctantly consented, but had scarcely wrapped
his arms in iron hug around his antagonist, when the lat-
ter lay outstretched upon the earth, with his curiosity
respecting the Reverend Mr. Wise completely satisfied.
The soul of this man was of the same large and in-
domitable make. He had a robust joy in nature and in
human nature; the creed of a democrat, without fear and
without truculence: to him the griefs of the oppressed
and the aggressions of the oppressor were alike insupport-
able. In 1687, when Sir Edmund Andros sent down to
Ipswich his lawless order for a province-tax, the young
parson braved the tyrant's anger, by advising his people
not to comply with that order; for which he was arrested,
tried, deposed from the ministry, fined, and thrown into
prison. In 1689, when Sir Edmund was overthrown, John
Wise was back again in his parish; and, both there and
in Boston, he was at the front among the bravest, who
then sought to prevent the recurrence of such despotism,
by making examples of the petty English despot and of
his still pettier American accomplices. In 1690, when the
new governor of Massachusetts, Sir William Phips, led
an expedition against Canada, John Wise, by request of
the colonial legislature, accompanied him as chaplain, dis-
tinguishing himself in the campaign by feats of heroism,
endurance, and military skill, as well as by fidelity in
preaching and praying.
Thus far in his life, he had been noted chiefly for traits
of physical and moral greatness, a devout, benignant, val-
iant, and blameless manhood; but within a few years
afterward, there came upon the country an event that
made him famous for the exertion of intellectual powers,
both in thought and speech, the most rugged, versatile,
and splendid.
In the year 1705, on the fifth of November—ominous
day!—there was issued at Boston a very shrewd docu-
ment, without any signature attached, but purporting to
have been framed by an association of ministers in and
IO6 A/STORY OF AMERICAN LIZERATURE.
near that city. It was addressed to the churches and
ministers of New England. It bore the unassuming title
of “Question and Proposals.” Masked under deferential
and harmless phrases, it was really a project for taking
away the power of the laity in all the churches of New
England, for annulling the independence of each church,
and for substituting in place of both the will of the clergy.
The document was understood to have been the work of
the two Mathers, backed by a coterie of clerical admirers,
and representing an inclination widely cherished, even if
concealed. The document had a meek look, innocuous,
even holy; it sought only the glory of God and the good
of man; it was not loud, peremptory, dogmatic; it only
asked and suggested. But John Wise, from his rural study
in Ipswich, saw its true character, a plot for an ecclesi-
astical revolution, and a revolution backward; and having
given ample time for the scheme to work its way into
general discussion, at last he lifted up his hand, and, at one
blow, crushed it. His blow was a book, “The Churches'
Quarrel Espoused,” published at Boston in 17 IO,-a book
that by its learning, logic, sarcasm, humor, invective, its
consuming earnestness, its vision of great truths, its flashes
of triumphant eloquence, simply annihilated the scheme
which it assailed.
His introduction is planned with exceeding art to con-
ciliate the reader, to rouse the suspicion of the public
against the men who had proposed the revolutionary
scheme, and to confirm the popular conviction that the
order of church-government already established, had upon
the whole worked satisfactorily: “The scheme seems to be
the spectre . . . of Presbyterianism ; . . . yet if I don't
mistake, in intention there is something considerable of
Prelacy in it. . . . There is also something in it which
smells very strong of the infallible chair. . . . For the cler-
gy to monopolize both the legislative and executive part
of canon law, is but a few steps from the chair of universal
pestilence; and by the ladder here set up, clergymen may,
JOHN WISE. Io/
if they please, clamber thus high. . . . Who can limit their
power, or shorten their arm in their executions? Their
Bulls can now, upon any affront, bellow and thunder out a
thousand terrible curses; and the poor affrighted and en-
vassaled laity . . . must forfeit their salvation, if they
don't tamely submit.”
He then takes up, one by one, the several proposals; and
exposes the danger and folly of each, with great power of
logic, humor, and sarcasm. Thus, in commenting upon
the proposed mode of receiving candidates into the minis-
try, he argues that it will surely lead to the evils of clerical
corruption seen elsewhere: “How oft is it repeated that
poor, Sordid, debauched wretches are put into holy orders,
whenas they were fitter to be put into the stocks, or sent to
Bridewell for madmen, than to be sent with their testi-
monials to work in Christ's vineyard | How long have the
Indies, the seas, the provinces, and many other parts of
the empire, groaned under this damnable way of cheating
God of his glory and the world of salvation l’”
It was, however, objected that under the present system,
candidates often got into the ministry too young. He re-
plies: “What then 2 . . . If Christ be preached, all is
well. . . . Despise not the day of small things. All men
must have a beginning, and every bird which is pretty well
fledged must begin to fly. And ours are not of the nest
where Icarus was hatched, whose feathers were only glued
on; but these belong to the angelic host, and their wings
grow out from their essence; therefore, you may allow them
with the lark now and then to dart heavenward, though the
shell or down be scarce off from their heads.”
It was urged, likewise, that the scheme has quite a harm-
less look; and in reply, he shows that, in spite of that, it
involves the possibility of great expansion into mischief:
“Though it be but a calf now, yet in time it may grow—
* “The Churches' Quarrel Espoused,” 38–39.
* Ibid. 65. * Ibid. 66.
IO8 Aſ Y.S 7"O/8 Y OF AMER/CAAV ZAZTAERA 7'OA-A2.
being of a thrifty nature—to become a sturdy ox that will
know no ‘whoa,’ and, it may be, past the churches' skill
then to subdue it. For if I am not much mistaken, . . .
that great and terrible Beast with seven heads and ten
horns . . . was nothing else, a few ages ago, but just such
another calf as this is. It was, indeed, finely shaped and
of neat limbs, . . . insomuch that the great potentates of
the earth were much ravished with its aspect and features;
some offered to suckle it on the choicest cows amongst all
the herds of royal cattle, . . . hoping to stock their own
countries with the breed; and when it was grown to a con-
siderable magnitude, to render it more shapely and fair,
they put iron tips on to its horns, and beset its stupendous
bulk with very rich ornaments. . . . But alas, poor men!
they have paid dear for their prodigality and fondness;
for this very Creature, that was but a calf when they first
begun to feed it, is now grown to be such a mad, furious,
and wild Bull, that there is scarce a Christian monarch on
earth . . . —the best horseman or huntsman of them all—
that dare take this Beast by the horns, when he begins to
bounce and bellow. Indeed the Emperor, within these
few years, has recovered so much courage that he took
him by the tail, to drive him out of his royal granges,
being quite angry and weary with his cropping and brows-
ing on the flowers of his imperial crown. But, otherwise,
the Beast generally goes at large, and does what he will in
all princes' dominions, and keeps them in awe. Therefore,
to conclude, . . . ‘Obsta principiis l’ It is wisdom to nip
such growths in the bud, and keep down by early slaughter
such a breed of cattle.”” -
The document that he is exposing, is dated “Novem-
ber the fifth.” He does not let this incident slip; and
having, with wonderful effectiveness, developed his argu-
ment that the scheme contained in that document is a
treasonable conspiracy, he proceeds to give the authors of
* “The Churches' Quarrel Espoused,” 81–82.
JOHN WISE. IO9
it a terrible thrust. Beginning with some “astrological
remarks” upon the document, he says: “I find its nativ-
ity full of favorable aspects to English churches. The fifth
day of November has been as a guardian angel to the
most sacred interest of the empire; it has rescued the
whole glory of church and state from the most fatal arrest
of hell and Rome. . . . Had I been of the cabal . . .
which formed these proposals, so soon as I had seen . . .
the date, . . . I should have cried out, ‘Miserere nostri
Deus,'—the good Lord have mercy upon us. This is the
‘gun-powder-treason day; ' and we are every man ruined,
being running Fawkes's fate.' Why, gentlemen, have you
forgot it? It is the day of the gun-powder-treason, and a
fatal day to traitors. . . . I have such an awe upon my
mind of this very day, that I have made a settled resolu-
tion, that of all the days of the whole year, I will never
conspire treason against my natural prince, nor mischief
to the churches, on the fifth day of November. And so,
farewell, gentlemen; for I dare not join with you in this
conspiracy.” But again, in the discussion, he returns to
this date, and he addresses to it a fervid and brilliant
apostrophe; “Blessed thrice blessed day! uphold and
maintain thy matchless fame in the calendar of time; and
let no darkness or shadow of death stain thee; let thy
horizon comprehend whole constellations of favorable and
auspicious stars, reflecting a benign influence on the Eng-
lish monarchy; and upon every return, in thy anniversary
circuits, keep an indulgent eye open and wakeful upon all
the beauties, from the throne to the footstool, of that
mighty empire And when it is thy misfortune to con-
ceive a Monster, which may threaten any part of the na-
tion's glory, let it come crippled from the womb, or else
travail in birth again, with some noble hero or invincible
Hercules, who may conquer and confound it.”
This noble passage is near the victorious close of the
* “The Churches' Quarrel Espoused,” 82. * Ibid. II.4.
I IO Aff ZSTORY OF AMER/CAAV ZAZTERA 7'UA' E.
book; and having thus abundantly implied the infamous
character of the conspiracy, he magnanimously tells the
conspirators themselves that, for the present, and on their
good behavior, they are safe; for he will not reveal their
names: “Where the place was, or the persons who were
present in this rendezvous, shall never be told by me, un-
less it be extorted by the rack. And though I have en-
deavored with freedom of argument to subvert the error,
I will never stain their personal glory by repeating or call-
ing over the muster-roll. Therefore, as Noah's sons cast
a garment upon their father's nakedness, so . . . their
names for me shall repose under a mantle of honorable
pity and forgetfulness.” "
Upon the whole, this book has extraordinary literary
merit. It is, of its kind, a work of art; it has a beginning,
a middle, and an end,-each part in fit proportion, and all
connected organically. The author is expert in exciting
and in sustaining attention; does not presume upon the
patience of his readers; relieves the heaviness and dry-
ness of the argument by gayety and sarcasm ; and has
occasional bursts of grand enthusiasm, of majestic and
soul-stirring eloquence. In tone it is superior to its time;
keen and urgent in its reasoning, showing no pity for op-
posing principles, it is full of forbearance and even of
urbanity for opposing persons. It is a piece of triumphant
logic, brightened by wit, and ennobled by imagination; a
master-specimen of the art of public controversy.
“The Churches' Quarrel Espoused ” is an exposition of
the theory of democracy, in the Christian church, but the
argument is developed according to the exigencies of a
special occasion. In 1717, seven years after the publi-
cation of that book, John Wise published a systematic
treatise upon the same subject, expounding in a formal
and didactic way the principles of ecclesiastical polity
then adopted in New England. He entitled this work,
* “The Churches' Quarrel Espoused,” 115.
JOHN WISE. I I I
“A Vindication of the Government of New England
Churches.”
His theory of the best government for the church de-
rives its character from his fundamental ideas of what is
the best government for the state; and the treatment of
the latter subject leads him into a broad discussion of the
rights of man, the nature of civil obligation, and the vari-
ous forms of civil polity. w
He first deals with man in his natural state, “as a free-
born subject under the crown of Heaven, and owing hom-
age to none but God himself. . . . He is the favorite
animal on earth, in that this part of God's image, namely,
reason, is congenerate with his nature, wherein by a law
immutable, enstamped upon his frame, God has provided
a rule for men in all their actions, obliging each one to
the performance of that which is right, . . . the which is
nothing but the dictate of right reason founded in the soul
of man. . . . The second great immunity of man is an
original liberty enstamped upon his rational nature. . . . I
shall waive the consideration of man's moral turpitude,
but shall view him " as “the most august animal in the
world. . . . Whatever has happened since his creation, he
remains at the upper-end of nature.” Man's natural liberty
consists in three things: first, man has “a faculty of doing
or omitting things according to the direction of his judg-
ment; ” second, “every man must be conceived to be
perfectly in his own power and disposal, and not to be
controlled by the authority of any other; ” third, there is
“an equality amongst men, which is . . . to be cherished
and preserved to the highest degree, as will consist with
all just distinctions amongst men of honor, and shall be
agreeable with the public good. For man has a high
valuation of himself, and the passion seems to lay its first
foundation, not in pride, but really in the high and admi-
rable frame and constitution of human nature. . . . Since,
then, human nature agrees equally with all persons, and
since no one can live a sociable life with another that does
II 2 Aff/STORY OF AMER/CAAW ZZZTERA 7'OA&E.
not own and respect him as a man, it follows as a com-
mand of the law of nature, that every man esteem and
treat another as one who is naturally his equal, or who is
a man as well as he. . . . The noblest mortal in his en-
trance on the stage of life is not distinguished by any
pomp . . . from the lowest of mankind; and our life
hastens to the same general mark. Death observes no
ceremony, but knocks as loud at the barriers of the court
as at the door of the cottage. . . . Nature having set all
men upon a level and made them equals, no servitude or
subjection can be conceived without inequality, and this
cannot be made without usurpation in others, or voluntary
compliance in those who resign their freedom and give
away their degree of natural being.”" .
In treating of man in a civil state, he shows that “the
true and leading cause of forming governments and yield-
ing up natural liberty, and throwing man's equality into a
common pile . . . was . . . to guard themselves against
the injuries men were liable to interchangeably; for none
So good to man as man, and yet none a greater enemy.
So that the first . . . original of civil power is the people.
. . . The formal reason of government is the will of a com-
munity, yielded up and surrendered to some other subject,
either of one particular person or more.” He, then,
speaks of “the three forms of a regular state,”—democ-
racy, aristocracy, and monarchy; and of the first he says:
“This form of government appears in the greatest part of
the world to have been the most ancient. . . . Reason
seems to show it to be most probable that when men . . .
had thoughts of joining in a civil body, they would with-
out question be inclined to administer their common af-
fairs by their common judgment, and so must necessarily
... establish a democracy.” "
Having thus spoken of each of these civil forms, he
next deals with their analogous forms in church organiza-
* “A Vindication,” etc. 32–43. * Ibid. 43–44. * Ibid. 47.
JOHAW WISE. II 3
tion. He begins with the ecclesiastical monarchy, and of
course finds this embodied in the Papacy: “It is certain
his Holiness, either by reasonable pleas or powerful cheats,
has assumed an absolute and universal sovereignty; this
fills his cathedral chair, and is adorned with a triple
crown.” His claim is that “the Almighty has made him
both key-keeper of heaven and hell, with the adjacent
territories of purgatory, and vested in him an absolute
sovereignty over the Christian world. . . . He therefore
decks himself with the spoils of the divine attributes,
styling himself, Our Lord God, “Optimum, maximum, et
supremum numen in terris; ' a God on earth, a visible.
Deity, and that his power is absolute, and his wisdom in-
fallible. And many of the great potentates of the earth
have paid their fealty as though it was really so. . . .
He has placed his holy foot on the monarch's profane
neck, as crushing a vermin crawling out of the stable of
his sovereignty; and others very frequently kiss his toes
with very profound devotion. . . . But the sad inquiry is,
whether this sort of government has not plainly subverted
the design of the gospel, and the end for which Christ's
government was ordained, namely, the moral, spiritual, and
eternal happiness of men. But I have no occasion to pur-
sue this remark with tedious demonstrations. It is very
plain; it is written with blood in capital letters, to be read
at midnight by the flames of Smithfield and other such
like consecrated fires,--that the government of this eccle-
siastical monarch has, instead of sanctifying, absolutely
debauched the world, and subverted all good Christianity
in it. . . . Without the least show of any vain presump-
tion, we may infer that God and wise Nature were never
propitious to the birth of this Monster.””
As regards the aristocratic form of church government,
which he finds embodied in the Episcopacy, he thinks that
Christianity “ has been peeled, robbed, and spoiled” by it
* “Vindication,” etc. 54–56.
VOL. II. —8
II.4. J/ZS 7'ORY OF AM/A2/e/CAAV ZA 7'EPA 7'OA’A.
—“so doleful a contemplation is it to think the world
should be destroyed by those men who by God were or-
dained to save it.” "
He then comes to the ecclesiastical democracy, and
of course advocates it, doing so with calm, rational, and
powerful arguments: “This is a form of government which
the light of nature does highly value, and often directs to,
as most agreeable to the just and natural prerogatives of
human beings.”
Throughout this entire work, the author shows abundant
learning; but always he is the master of his learning, and
not its victim. He lays out his propositions clearly and
powerfully; marshals his arguments with tact and effect;
is nowhere freakish, or extravagant ; never fails in good
temper, or in good sense.
Upon the whole, no other American author of the colo-
nial time is the equal of John Wise in the union of great
breadth and power of thought with great splendor of style;
and he stands almost alone among our early writers for the
blending of a racy and dainty humor with impassioned
earneStries.S.
His force and brilliance in statement cannot be fully rep-
resented in sentences torn from their connection; yet on
almost every page one meets terse and quotable sayings,
here and there long passages grand for their nobility of feel-
ing, their truth, and the music of their words. “Order,”
says he, “is both the beauty and safety of the universe.
Take away the decorum whereby the whole hangs together,
the great frame of nature is unpinned, and drops piece
from piece; and out of a beautiful structure we have a
chaos.” ” “If men are trusted with duty,” he exclaims,
“they must trust that, and not events. If men are placed
at helm to steer in all weather that blows, they must not
be afraid of the waves or a wet coat.”
1 “Vindication,” etc. 59–60. * Ibid. 60.
* “The Churches' Quarrel Espoused,” 40. “Ibid. 53.
JOHN WISE. II 5
Here is his stately and passionate chant of homage to
religion: “Religion, in its infallible original, the wisdom
and authority of God; in its Infinite Object, the ineffable
Persons and Perfections of the Divine Essence ; in its
means, the gospel of salvation; in its inspired wakeful and
capacious ministry; in its subject, the inestimable immortal
soul of man; in its transcendent effects, in time the charm-
ing peace and joys of conscience, in eternity the joyful re-
treat and shouts of glory;-is the most incomparable gift of
Palladium which ever came from heaven. Amongst all the
favors of the Father of Lights, there is none parallel with
this; when disclosed in its beauty, it ravisheth all the in-
tellects of the universe; and challenge may be made that
the prerogatives and glory belonging to all the crowned
heads in the world, do bow and wait upon its processions
through the earth, to guard it from its innumerable and
inveterate enemies. . . . It is certain that the church of
Christ is the pillar of truth, or sacred recluse and peculiar
asylum of Religion; and this sacred guest, Religion, which
came in the world's infancy from heaven to gratify the soli-
tudes of miserable man, when God had left him, hath long
kept house with us in this land, to sweeten our wilderness-
state; and the renowned churches here are her sacred pal-
aces. Then, certainly, it is not fair for her lovers, under
pretence of maintaining her welcome in greater state, to
desolate her pleasing habitations, though they stand some-
what low like the myrtle grove.”" *
Perhaps even greater than the distinction he deserves for
his brilliant writing, is the distinction due him for the pro-
phetic clearness, the courage, and the inapproachable abil-
ity with which, in that unfriendly time, he, almost alone
among Americans, avowed his belief in civil governments
founded on the idea of human equality. He was the first
great American democrat. In the earlier years of the
eighteenth century, he announced the political ideas that,
* “The Churches' Quarrel Espouséd,” 75–76.
I IG HISTORY OF AMER/CAM L/TERA 7'URE.
fifty years later, took immortal form under the pen of
Thomas Jefferson. Indeed, in 1772, when the doctrine of
human right had come to be a very urgent and very prac-
tical one among men, the two books of John Wise were
called for in Boston by the Revolutionary leaders; they
were reprinted in response to this call; and they proved
an armory of burnished weapons in all that stern fight.
“The end of all good government is to cultivate humanity
and promote the happiness of all, and the good of every
man in all his rights, his life, liberty, estate, honor, and so
forth, without injury or abuse to any.” No wonder that
the writer of that sentence was called up from his grave,
by the men who were getting ready for the Declaration of
Independence! -
VI.
Not long before the Revolutionary War, a distinguished
clergyman of Boston, Charles Chauncey, then an aged
man, said, in a letter to President Stiles, that of all the
eminent men he had known in New England, Jeremiah
Dummer was “for extent and strength of genius” one of
the three greatest. By all contemporary allusions it is
evident that this man was regarded in his day as having
extraordinary ability. Certainly no other American of
that period began life with more brilliant promise; per-
haps none ended it under sadder disappointment. He was
born in Boston about 1679, of a family prominent and
honorable in the country from its earliest settlement. He
was graduated at Harvard College in 1699, where his
student-life was long perpetuated in splendid tradition.
Being at that time of a singularly devout spirit, he chose
theology for his profession, and entered upon the study
of it with his usual ardor and thoroughness. He soon
went abroad for larger opportunities of instruction, taking
* “Vindication,” etc. 42.
JEREMIAH DUMMER. II 7
his doctor's degree at the University of Utrecht;" and
upon his return to New England, probably in 1704, he
brought with him testimonials to his industry and blame-
less life while in Europe. To his friends and to himself
he now probably seemed fully ripe for the illustrious ser-
vice among the churches of New England to which he had
been destined. He began to preach in the pulpits of
Boston; but somehow, in spite of all his genius and all
his vast academic preparation, his preaching did not make
any impression. It was without fault, and without effect.
Thus, on the twenty-ninth of October, 1704, he preached
“A Discourse on the Holiness of the Sabbath Day.” It
was immaculate for orthodoxy, fitting even the most asce-
tic Puritan variety of that article; it had an abundance of
Biblical, theological, and classical learning in it; it was
smooth and liquid in style; indeed, it had nearly every
quality of a speech, except fitness for being spoken. It
was simply a labored literary essay, quite too bookish,
ornate, and fine to have any practical effect either on
saints or sinners. The sermon, however, was at once
published,” under the high sanction of the venerable In-
crease Mather, who, in the preface, spoke of Dummer's
unequalled success as a student at home and abroad, and
of his personal excellence in creed and deed, but concluded
with the alarming intimation that unless the churches of
New England should make haste to possess themselves
of this clerical prodigy, he would be very likely to with-
draw into some other quarter of the universe.
The menace was unheeded. Dummer preached here and
there for a time, but found no acceptable pulpit to which
he was acceptable; and at last he gave up the quest.
Five years later, 1709, he once more emerged into view.
This time it was in London, in a new character, on a new
* In the Prince Library are copies of four of his university theses, in Latin,
printed in Holland in 1702 and 1703, and showing his minute and large ac-
quisitions in philological and theological learning.
* Republished, Boston, 1763.
II.8 Aſ/STORY OF AMER/CAM Z/7ZA’.1 7"UA’A.
theme. He had dropped his theological profession, and
his theology, and, very likely, his religion; he had gone to
England to be a politician, and to make for himself there
a great career in secular life. He had arrived not long
before the formation of the Tory ministry under Har-
ley and St. John ; and to the anguish of his friends in
America, he soon allied himself with the latter powerful
and profligate statesman; adopted his politics, and even
his morals; served him in various secret negotiations; and
had from him promises of high promotion. But, in 1714,
the Queen died; Bolingbroke fled in disgrace to France;
and poor Dummer, damned by such an alliance, found all
his hopes of a political career in England blasted." It was.
impossible for him to confess his failure by a return to his
native land; and in England he remained during the rest
of his days, becoming a member of the Middle Temple,
and indulging in certain respectable laxities of conduct
more suggestive of his later friends than of his earlier ones;
at last, in 1739, he died, without ever grasping any of
that glory in the world for which he had so laboriously
qualified himself, almost unknown in the country which
he had adopted, and long before forgotten in the country
in which he was born. -
Yet on behalf of Jeremiah Dummer it remains to be
said, that whatever else, of true and good, he may have
given up when he turned his back upon his own country,
he never gave up his love for that country, or his passion
to promote her welfare by his best labors. From 1710 to
1721, he served Massachusetts as its agent in London;
and when that office was taken from him, he continued
to serve her still, without appointment and without pay,
whenever he found occasion. However much of an Eng-
lishman he may have become, he never ceased to be an
American. Whatever he wrote for the public, is upon
American topics; and his letters to his friends in this
| T. Hutchinson, “Hist. Mass. Bay,” II. I70, note.
JEREMIA II DUMMER. I IQ
country showed at times a pensive and affectionate regret
for the land and the life that he could never return to.
His memory as a writer will rest upon two publications,
both being proofs not only of his fine literary accomplish-
ments, but of his vigilant and laborious zeal for his coun-
try. The first was printed, in London, in 1709, and is
entitied, “A Letter to a Noble Lord concerning the late
Expedition to Canada,” wherein he makes three points:
first, that the conquest of Canada was of great importance
to England; second, that the late expedition was wisely
planned; third, that its failure cannot be charged upon
New England. It is an able and convincing essay, writ-
ten in urbane and graceful style, everywhere bright and
readable. It contains some striking illustrations of the
adroitness with which the French missionaries in Canada
aided the political designs of France ; for instance, teach-
ing their Indian converts that “the Virgin Mary was a
French lady, and that her Son, the Saviour of the world,
was crucified by the English.” The book also denotes
how early and passionate among the English colonies in
America was the dread of the American power of France;
thus, even in 1709, he says that those colonies can never
be easy or happy “whilst the French are masters of
Canada.””
But the second of Dummer's political publications is
much the abler: “A Defence of the New England Char-
ters.” It was published in London in 1728,” at a time
when there was danger of a bill passing the House of Com-
mons, annulling the charters granted to the New England
colonies. It opens with a fine sketch of the origin and
growth of those colonies, and of the circumstances under
which the charters were given to them; and then proceeds
to establish these four propositions: first, that the charter-
governments have a good right to their charters; second,
* Reprinted, Boston, 1712. * “A Letter to a Noble Lord,” etc. 4.
* Republished in London by J. Almon, in 1766, on account of its perti-
nence to colonial topics then under discussion.
I2O A/S 7'O/º V OA' A MAEA’ACAAV ZATERA 7'OA’A2.
that they have not forfeited them; third, that if they had,
it would not be the interest of the crown to accept the for-
feitures; and, fourth, that it is inconsistent with justice to
disfranchise the charter-colonies by act of parliament. It
is an admirable specimen of argumentative literature; strict
in logic, strong in fact, clear, flowing, graceful, occasionally
rising into noble enthusiasm, but always temperate, cour-
teous, and cosmopolitan.
VII.
No one who would penetrate to the core of early Amer-
ican literature, and would read in it the secret history of
the people in whose minds it took root and from whose
minds it grew, may by any means turn away, in lofty liter.
ary scorn, from the almanac,+most despised, most prolific,
most indispensable of books, which every man uses, and no
man praises; the very quack, clown, pack-horse, and pariah
of modern literature, yet the one universal book of modern
literature; the Supreme and only literary necessity even in
households where the Bible and the newspaper are still un-
desired or unattainable luxuries.
The earliest record of this species of literature in America
carries us back to the very beginning of printed literature
in America; for, next after a sheet containing “The Free-
man's Oath,” the first production that came from the
printing-press in this country was “An Almanac calculated
for New England, by Mr. Pierce,” and printed by Stephen
Daye, at Cambridge, in 1639. Thenceforward for a long
time, scarcely a year passed over that solitary printing-
press at Cambridge, without receiving a similar salute from
it. In 1676, Boston itself grew wise enough to produce
an almanac of its own. Ten years afterward, Philadelphia
began to send forth almanacs—a trade in which, in the
following century, it was to acquire special glory. In
* I. Thomas, “Hist. of Printing in Am.” I. 46.
ZTAZ AZAMAAVAC. I2 I
1697, New York entered the same enticing field of enter-
prise. The first almanac produced in Rhode Island, was
in 1728; the first almanac produced in Virginia, was in
1731. In 1733, Benjamin Franklin began to publish what
he called “Poor Richard's Almanac,” to which his own
personal reputation has given a celebrity surpassing that
of all other almanacs published anywhere in the world.
Thus, year by year, with the multiplication of people and
of printing-presses in this country, was there a multiplica-
tion of almanacs, some of them being of remarkable intel-
lectual and even literary merit. From the first, they con-
tained many of the traits that had become conventional
in printed almanacs in Europe, ever since their first pub-
lication there in the fifteenth century; particularly astro-
logical prophecies, or, as they were called, “prognostica-
tions,” relating both to mankind and to the weather, and
representing the traditional belief in the influence of the
heavenly bodies upon mundane affairs. Gradually, to these
were added other things, scraps of wisdom, crumbs of
history, Snatches of verse, proverbs, jests, all scattered
through the little book according to the convenience of the
printer and the supposed benefit of the reader. Through-
out our colonial time, when larger books were costly and
few, the almanac had everywhere a hearty welcome and
frequent perusal; the successive numbers of it were care-
fully preserved year after year; their margins and blank
pages were often covered over with annotations, domestic
and otherwise. Thus, John Cotton, it will be remembered,
used the blank spaces in his almanacs as depositories for
his stealthy attempts at verse. So, also, the historian,
Thomas Prince, recorded in his almanacs the state of his
accounts with his hair-dresser and wig-maker. A writer
of some note,” born in Connecticut during the American
Revolution, has left a vivid description of his own excite-
* For several of the above dates I depend upon Ainsworth R. Spofford, in
“Am. Almanac’’ for 1878, 23–25.
* Joseph T. Buckingham, “Personal Memoirs,” etc. I. 20.
I 22 A/STORY OF AMER/CAAV ZATERA 7TURAE.
ment, as a child, in reading again and again the literary
treasures of the household, consisting, in large part, of a
file of almanacs for fifty years.
One of the numerous myths still prevailing in the world
with reference to Benjamin Franklin, describes him as the
first founder of an almanac blending those qualities of
shrewd instruction and keen mother-wit, that are to be
seen in his famous series; a French encyclopaedist, for ex-
ample, declaring that Franklin “put forth the first popu-
lar almanac which spoke the language of reason.” In
truth, much of the wisdom and wit introduced by Frank-
lin into his almanac was borrowed from Bacon, Rabelais,
Rochefoucauld, Steele, Swift, De Foe, and others:” but
even the idea of introducing into an almanac wit and wis-
dom whether original or borrowed, had been thought of
and put into practice before Franklin’s “Poor Richard ”
was born. In 1728, five years before that event, Franklin's
brother, James, sent forth the first number of “The Rhode
Island Almanac; ” and in its pages, year by year, one may
find no little of that sagacity, humor, and knack of phrase,
that did so much for the fortunes of his own runaway ap-
prentice. But even three years before James Franklin's
almanac appeared, Nathaniel Ames,” a physician and inn-
keeper of Dedham, Massachusetts, a man of original, vig-
orous, and pungent genius, began the publication of his
“Astronomical Diary and Almanac; ” which he continued
to publish till his death in 1764; which, under his manage-
ment, acquired an enormous popularity throughout New
England; and which, from the first, contained in high per-
fection every type of excellence afterward illustrated in
the almanac of Benjamin Franklin. Indeed, Ames's alma-
nac was in most respects better than Franklin's, and was,
probably, the most pleasing representative we have of a
! “Am. Almanac,” for 1878, 25.
* A delightful account of “Poor Richard’s Almanac" is in James Parton's
“Life and Times of Benjamin Franklin,” I. 227—240.
* He was the father of the celebrated orator and statesman, Fisher Ames.
AWA 7THAAW/E/C AME.S. I23
form of literature that furnished so much entertainment to
our ancestors, and that preserves for us so many charac-
teristic tints of their life and thought.
Nathaniel Ames made his almanac a sort of annual
cyclopaedia of information and amusement, a vehicle for
the conveyance to the public of all sorts of knowledge
and nonsense, in prose and verse, from literature, history
and his own mind, all presented with brevity, variety, and
infallible tact. He had the instinct of a journalist; and,
under a guise that was half-frolicsome, the sincerity and
benignant passion of a public educator. He carried into
the furthest wildernesses of New England some of the best
English literature; pronouncing there, perhaps for the
first time, the names of Addison, Thomson, Pope, Dryden,
Butler, Milton; and repeating there choice fragments of
what they had written. Thus, eight years before Benja-
min Franklin had started his almanac, Nathaniel Ames
was publishing one that had all of its best qualities, fact
and frolic, the wisdom of the preacher without his solem-
nity, terse sayings, shrewdness, wit, homely wisdom, all
sparkling in piquant phrase.
As the public expected the almanac-maker to be a
prophet, Nathaniel Ames gratified the public; and he
freely predicted future events, but always with a merry
twinkle in his eye, and always ready to laugh the loudest
at his own failure to predict them aright. He mixes, in
delightful juxtaposition, absurd prognostications, curt jests,
and aphorisms of profound wisdom, the whole forming a
miscellany even now extremely readable, and sure, at that
time, to raise shouts of laughter around thousands of fire-
places where food for laughter was much needed. Thus,
January I. “About the beginning of the year expect plenty of rain
or snow.”
“Warm and clears off cold again.”
May 22. “Some materials about this time are hatched for the clergy
to debate on.”
October 21. “He that lives by fraud is in danger of dying a knave.”
I24 AISTORY OF AMERICAAV Z/TERA TURE.
November 9. “These aspects show violent winds and in winter storms
of driving snow ; mischiefs by Indians, if no peace ; and among
us, feuds, quarrels, bloody-noses, broken pates—if not necks.”
November 24. “If there was less debating and more acting, 'twould
be better times.”
December 7–Io. “Ladies, take heed,
Lay down your fans,
And handle well
Your warming-pans.”
December 15–18. “This cold, uncomfortable weather
Makes Jack and Gill lie close together.”
December 20–22. “The lawyers' tongues—they never freeze,
If warmed with honest clients’ fees.” "
Having been laughed at for his false predictions, he uses
the almanac for 1729 to join in the laugh, and to turn
the occasion of it into a witty and instructive home-thrust
at every reader: -
“Man was at first a perfect, upright creature,
The lively image of his great Creator.
When Adam fell, all men in him transgressed;
And since that time they err that are the best.
The printer errs; I err, much like the rest.
Welcome's that man for to complain of me,
Whose self and works are quite from errors free.”
Sometimes, in a more serious tone, he gives his real
opinion about this traditional department of the almanac,
and helps to lift his readers above the demand for it : “He
who has foreordained whatsoever comes to pass, knows,
and he only knows with absolute certainty, what will come
to pass. The Book of Fate is hid from all created beings.
. . . Indeed, the Devil does not know so much of future
events, as many expect an almanac-maker should foretell;
although it must be owned that they are willing to allow
him the help of the Devil for his information.””
But everywhere it is plain enough that the author wears
* Almanac for I749. * Almanac for 1763.
AVA 7TM/AAVIE/. A MAE.S. I25
his mask of jester, only to hide a most earnest and friendly
face; and having by his mirth gained admission to every
New England cabin, he sits down with the family around
the great crackling fire, and helps them to a wisdom that
will enable them to keep on laughing. Thus, in the almanac
for 1754, he has a preliminary address to the reader, uttered
in the tone of a Cobbett or a Greeley, a born tribune of
the people: “I have filled the two last pages with an
essay on regimen. I don't pretend to direct the learned;
the rich and voluptuous will scorn my direction, and sneer
or rail at any that would reclaim them ; but since this
sheet enters the solitary dwellings of the poor and illiter-
ate, where the studied ingenuity of the learned writer
never comes, if these brief hints do good, it will rejoice
the heart of your humble servant, Nathaniel Ames.”
February 24–27. “If you fall into misfortunes, creep through those
bushes which have the least briers.”
March 21–23. “Expectation waits to know whether the mountain
bears a mouse or no.”
October 25–28. “There are three faithful friends—an old wife, an
old dog, and ready cash.”
November 6–8. “Were things done twice, many would be wise.”
July 16–27. “Every man carries a fool in his sleeve; with some he ap-
pears bold, with some he only pops out now and then, but the
wise keep him hid.”
September 12–16. “To some men their country is their shame; and
some are the shame of their country.”?
He sprinkles his pages with wholesome suggestions
about health-getting and health-keeping. For September,
1762, he says: “This month is a proper season to recruit
the unhealthy, by taking Dr. Horse and riding long jour-
neys—though moderately.” The gospel that he preaches
is the gospel of health, virtue, economy, industry, content;
he shows that always grumbling is either a vice or a dis-
ease, and that whichever it be, the first duty of every man
is to rid himself of it:
* Almanac for 1758. * Almanac for 1763.
I 26 A/STORY OF AMER/CAAV ZATERA 7"UAEA.
“As for myself, whom poverty prevents
From being angry at so great expense,
I choose to labor, rather than to fret;
What's rage in some, in me goes off in sweat.
If times are ill, and things seem never worse,
Men, manners, to reclaim,_I, take my horse:
One mile reforms 'em ; or, if aught remain
Unpurged—'tis but to ride as far again.
Thus on myself in toils I spend my rage :
I pay the fine, and that absolves the age.
Sometimes, still more to interrupt my ease,
I take my pen, and write such things as these;
Which, though all other merit be denied,
Show my devotion still to be employed.
And since midst indolence, spleen will prevail,
Since who do nothing else, are sure to rail,
Men should be suffered thus to play the fool
To keep from hurt, as children go to school.” "
The almanac for 1736 ends with a brief prose essay,
which is an amusing miscellany of physical learning and
humor, all intended to interest the reader and to ad-
vertise the merits of a certain invaluable medicine—worm-
seed for children; concluding with this paragraph wor-
thy of the shrewdness of Poor Richard himself: “Some
nurses are so superstitious that they dare not give their
children worm-seed without pounding and sifting it, af-
firming that every seed that escapes being bruised in the
mortar will become a live worm in the bowels of the
child. But, by the by, it is an excellent medicine for the
purpose, and they need not be afraid to use it; for, if they
will prove that it can breed worms in children, I can as
easily prove that it can breed children in women; and so
those unhappy persons who have had the ill-luck to have
children without fathers, need not lie under the imputa-
tion of scandal, if they can produce sufficient evidence
that they have taken worm-seed.”
1 Almanac for I757
AVA T//AAW//ZZ AME.S. 127
His pages are sprinkled with verses from the English
poets and from his own pen, the latter often of great
vigor and sprightliness. For 1736, he spreads over the
almanac a poem of twelve stanzas, one stanza being pre-
fixed to each month. The subject of the poem is the Day
of Judgment, and is so vivid and powerful in its descrip-
tions, and is so blended with ominous references to the
stars and to the warring elements, that it must have car-
ried awe into many impressible minds, as if the omniscient
almanac-maker intended actually to announce the coming
of the awful day that very year. This is the stanza for
January:
“The muses tremble with a faltering wing,
While nature's great catastrophe they sing;
For Helicon itself, their sacred throne,
Must to the womb of chaos back return.
The cheerful region of the earth and air
Is filled with horror, darkness, and despair.”
So, with fascinating gloom opens the year; and thus
it proceeds, with variations of poetic horror, month by
month. In March, we have this mystic and dreadful de-
scription of the moon and stars:
“No more she rules as regent of the night,
But fills her orb with blood instead of light;
And dissolution reigns both near and far,
Through heaven's wide circuit round. Each shining star
His intricate nocturnal mazes stops, º
And from his place assigned in heaven down drops.”
In the following month things grow rapidly worse. The
stars, it will be remembered, have fallen:
“Their light extinct, nature in darkness ends,
Except what light hell's horrid bosom sends
Around the sky; her baneful torches come
To light dissolving nature to her tomb.
The earth with trembling agonies doth roll,
As though she mixed her centre with the pole.”
I28 A/VSTOR Y OF AMER/CAAV ZATERA 7'URAE.
In May,
“The seas do roar; and every peaceful lake
And wandering rivers horrid murmurings make ;
The rocks explode, and trembling mountains nod,
And valleys rise at the approaching God ;
From heaven's high court angelic throngs descend;
Myriads this great solemnity attend.”
It must have given some relief to sensitive readers to
cast the eye further down the page, and to read in the
author's prose his cheerful prophecies concerning the
course of the weather for that very month; for he assures
them of “a fine pleasant air, with gentle gales,” and of
“fair, pleasant, growing weather.” And although there is
an ominous threat of combustibility during the last week—
“This week will afford heat and thunder”—yet the pros-
pect is redeemed by the subsequent promise of “now and
then a sprinkling of rain,”—which, of course, must defer
the general conflagration. The stanza for July concludes
with this couplet:
“A rending sound from the expanded skies
Commands the dead, the sleepy dead, to rise; ”
which harmonizes admirably with the weather probabili-
ties for the same time; “The month ends with thunder
and hot weather.” -
The almanac for I 749, the year succeeding the close of
King George's War, has a fine literary tone, and its poetic
motto, on the title-page, is a noble prophecy of peace
in the world :
“No heroes' ghosts, with garments rolled in blood,
Majestic stalk; the golden age renewed,
No hollow drums in Flanders beat; the breath
Of brazen trumpets rings no peals of death.
The milder stars their peaceful beams afford,
And sounding hammer beats the wounding sword
To ploughshares now ; Mars must to Ceres yield,
And exiled Peace returns and takes the field.”
AVA 7TP/AAV/A2 L AME.S. I29
The essay at the end of the almanac for 1758, is of un-
usual merit for thought and vivacity of expression. It
is a fine specimen of what we now call a leading edi-
torial article—terse, epigrammatic, vigorous, formed to
catch and to hold the attention; and it is a very credit-
able example of literary style. It was written in the midst
of the struggle between France and England for the em-
pire of America. It is upon “America—its Past, Present,
and Future State.” With reference to the Past, he says:
“Time has cast a shade upon this scene. Since the crea-
tion, innumerable accidents have happened here, the bare
mention of which would create wonder and surprise; but
they are all lost in oblivion. The ignorant natives, for
want of letters, have forgot their stock, and know not from
whence they came, or how, or when they arrived here, or
what has happened since.” Then glancing at the events
that have happened in America since the arrival of the
Europeans, he describes the magnificent territory of the
North-West then in dispute: “Time was when we might
have been possessed of it; at this time two mighty kings
contend for this inestimable prize. Their respective claims
are to be measured by the length of their swords. The
poet says, “the Gods and Opportunity ride post; ' that you
must take her by the forelock, being bald behind. Have
we not too fondly depended upon our numbers? Sir Fran-
cis Bacon says, “The wolf careth not how many the sheep
be.’ But numbers, well - spirited, with the blessing of
heaven, will do wonders when by military skill and disci-
pline the commanders can actuate, as by one soul, the most
numerous bodies of armed people. Our numbers will not
avail till the colonies are united. . . . If we do not join
heart and hand in the common cause against our exulting
foes, but fall to disputing amongst ourselves, it may really
happen as the governor of Pennsylvania told his assembly,
“We shall have no privilege to dispute about, nor country
to dispute in.'” -
His treatment of the Future State of America shows a
VOL. II.-9
I3O Aſ/STORY OF AMER/CAAV ZATERA 7"UA’A.
remarkable grasp of facts relating to the physical resources
of the continent, and an unusual power of reason in con-
structing the possibilities of civil and material devel-
opment, especially in the West : “Here we find a vast
stock of proper materials for the art and ingenuity of man
to work on, treasures of immense worth, concealed from
the poor, ignorant, aboriginal natives. . . . As the celestial
light of the gospel was directed here by the finger of God,
it will doubtless finally drive the long, long night of hea-
thenish darkness from America. . . . So arts and sciences
will change the face of nature in their tour from hence over
the Appalachian Mountains to the Western Ocean ; and as
they march through the vast desert, the residence of wild
beasts will be broken up, and their obscene howl cease for-
cver. Instead of which, the stones and trees will dance
tögether at the music of Orpheus, the rocks will disclose
their hidden gems, and the inestimable treasures of gold
and silver be broken up. Huge mountains of iron ore are
already discovered; and vast stores are reserved for future
generations. This metal, more useful than gold and silver,
will employ millions of hands, not only to form the mar-
tial sword and peaceful share alternately, but an infinity of
utensils improved in the exercise of art and handicraft
amongst men. . . . Shall not then these vast quarries
that teem with mechanic stone,—those for structure be
piled into great cities, and those for sculpture into statues,
to perpetuate the honor of renowned heroes—even those
who shall now save their country?” He then closes with
this appeal to posterity: “O ye unborn inhabitants of
America! should this page escape its destined conflagra-
tion at the year's end, and these alphabetical letters re-
main legible when your eyes behold the sun after he has
rolled the seasons round for two or three centuries more,
you will know that in Anno Domini, 1758, we dreamed
of your times.”
CHAPTER XIV.
NEW ENGLAND : HISTORY AND BIOGRAPHY.
I.—Further development of the historic spirit in New England—Biography
and biographers—Ebenezer Turell—His biographies of Jane Turell and
of Benjamin Colman.
II.-William Hubbard–Picture of him by John Dunton—His literary cul-
ture and aptitude—Qualities of his style—His “General History of New
England”—His “Indian Wars”—Celebrity of the latter—Its faults and
merits—Represents the wrath of the people against the Indians—Portrait
of a noble savage.
III.-Other literary memorials of the long conflict with the Indians—Mary
Rowlandson and her thrilling “Narrative” of Indian captivity—“The
Redeemed Captive,” by John Williams of Deerfield—Benjamin Church—
His history of King Philip's War and of other struggles with the Indians—
Interest of his narratives—Samuel Penhallow—His history of Indian wars
—Pictures of heroism and cruelty—His reminiscences of classical study—
Samuel Niles—His “History of the Indian and French Wars.”
IV.-Thomas Prince—His eminent career—His special taste and training for
history—Has the cardinal virtues of an historian—His “Chronological
IIistory of New England”—Thoroughness of his methods—Salient fea-
tures of the book—Its worthiness.
V.—John Callender—His careful sketch of the first century of Rhode Island's
history.
VI.-William Douglass—The life and the singularities of the man—A literary
Ishmaelite—His ability and self-confidence—His sarcastic account of the
medical profession in America—His “Summary”—A passionate, hetero-
geneous, able book—Its style and scope—Its drolleries—His dislike of the
Indians, of the French, of Whitefield, of Bishop Berkeley, and of paper-
money—General estimate of his book.
I.
THE one form of secular literature for which, during the
entire colonial age, the writers of New England had the
most authentic vocation, is history.
All persons of devout, brooding, and introverted natures
I3 I
I32 Aſ/STORY OF AMER/CAAV ZA 7TAZA'A 7TURAE.
are apt to keep records of themselves,—to have the his-
toric feeling; for to such persons life seems so costly and
venerable a thing, that they would hold the memory of it
from lapsing into that grave of the past, whither life itself
every moment is hurrying. The men and women who
founded the sturdy little commonwealths of New England,
had such natures; they reverenced themselves, they rever-
enced their lives, they reverenced the stupendous task to
which they were giving their lives. By a law as deep as
their own souls, they were, inevitably, from the first, a race
of diarists, chroniclers, biographers, autobiographers, his-
torians. And their children and their children's children
were like unto them. The historic feeling did not perish,
or even abate, with the passing of the generations. It
throve rather, and grew lustier, nourishing itself on a finer
and broader acceptance of life, and on the sweet memory
of its own heroic age.
Our second literary period produced four considerable
historians,—William Hubbard, Cotton Mather, Thomas
Prince, Thomas Hutchinson: the first two excelling, in
popularity, all other historians of the colonial time; the
last two excelling all others in specific training for the
profession of history, and in the conscious accumulation
of materials for historic work." -
Of that species of history that is devoted to the lives of
individuals rather than of communities, there were many
specimens produced in the colonial epoch; such, for ex-
ample, as biographies of John Cotton, Richard Mather,
Increase Mather, Cotton Mather, and of the great army
of divines, heroes, and sages that abide eternally in the
“Magnalia.” But it is a singular fact that, in literary
quality, the biographies written in colonial New England
are far inferior to its histories.
1 Of these four historians, it will be most convenient to deal with the last,
Thomas Hutchinson, in another volume, to be devoted to the literature of
the American Revolution.
WNZZZA M H UB BARZO. 133
The best example of its biographical work is “The Life
and Character of the Reverend Benjamin Colman,” by his
son-in-law, Ebenezer Turell, published in Boston, in 1749.
Even this distinction, however, does not imply exalted
merit. In its construction, the book imitates a bad model,
—Samuel Mather’s “Life of Cotton Mather,”—wherein the
narrative is arranged, not in the natural order of time, but
in the artificial one of topics. The style of Turell's book
is superior to Samuel Mather's, being pure and pleasant ;
and his admiration for his subject, while it is hearty and
reverent, never betrays him into hyperboles of laudation."
II.
William Hubbard was born in England in 1621; came
to New England in his childhood; and was one of that re-
markable group of nine young men whom Harvard College
sent forth, in 1642, as the first specimens of high culture
achieved in the woods of America. By training, by strong
aptitude, and by prevailing engagements, he was almost a
professional man of letters. The most of his life he passed
as ministér of the First Church at Ipswich, Massachusetts,
where his learning and eloquence won for him a command-
ing reputation. But his distinction points to the literary
rather than to the theological side of personal greatness.
Indeed, the breadth of his thought, his geniality, and
his tolerance seems well-nigh to have cracked the shell
of clerical propriety in which he was encased. Thomas
Hutchinson* speaks of him as having “a good degree of
1 Turell also published, in 1735, “Memoirs of the Life and Death of the
Pious and Ingenious Mrs. Jane Turell.” The book is largely made up of
her writings, especially her poetry. She was the literary phenomenon of an
admiring circle of friends; but she died before she had outgrown the ſeeble-
ness of poetic imitation. Indeed, she left no proofs of poetic genius, more
notable than are to be found in the desk of almost any spirited school-girl
with a tendency toward emotional effervescence in verse.
* “Hist. Mass. Bay,” II. 136, note.
I34. ÆZSTORY OF AMER/CAAV ZATE/QA 7"UAEE.
catholicism,” which, as that historian suggests, “was not
accounted the most valuable part of his character in the
age in which he lived.” He resided in his parish of Ipswich
to the great age of eighty-three; and from contemporary
allusions we may picture him to ourselves as a stately,
affable, and accomplished gentleman, the ideal country-
pastor in a highly intellectual community,+passing the
most of his time in his library, and filling the long quiet
spaces of his life with various culture. The eccentric
London bookseller, John Dunton, who made a voyage of
business to New England in 1686, has left a lively pic-
ture of Hubbard, by whom the bookseller was hospitably
received on his visit to Ipswich: “The benefit of nature
and the fatigue of study have equally contributed to his
eminence; neither are we less obliged to both than him-
self, for he fully communicates of his learning to all who
have the happiness to share in his converse. In a word,
he is learned without ostentation and vanity, and gives all
his productions . . . a delicate turn and grace.”* Like
nearly all his clerical associates in those days, he pub-
lished occasional sermons; and these, having the unusual
quality of verbal elegance, did much to form his reputa-
tion as a writer of genuine literary skill.” But his most
important work was done as an historian ; and as such
he represents a clear advance, at least in the literary
quality of his labor. He had an ear for style, something
of poetic feeling, a conscious purpose of art. His hand
* J. Dunton, “Life and Errors,” I. I34.
* I think, however, that the praise of Hubbard as a writer has been
overdone. Thus, John Eliot, in his “Biographical Dictionary,” speaks
of Hubbard as “superior to all his contemporaries as a prose writer;”
and James Savage, in N. A. Review, II. 221–230, speaks of Hubbard's
election-sermon as surpassed in style by “no work of the two next gen-
erations.” That sermon is able and impressive; its diction is smooth and
dignified ; yet it is far inferior, in all respects, to the sermons of Urian
Oakes, John Barnard, Benjamin Colman, Jonathan Mayhew, or Mather Byles.
His own fellow-townsman, John Wise, was vastly his superior as a prose
writer. / -
WZZZZAM/ A# UAE BAA’A). I35
loved to form sentences that had precision in them, a
liquid flow, the lingering echo of pleasant sounds, imagi-
native meanings. -
In his capacity of historian, Hubbard wrote two works,
considerable in size, very unequal in merit. The less
valuable one is “A General History of New England from
the Discovery to 1680,” left by him in manuscript, and
not put into print until the present century." Of this
work, many pages are transferred solidly from Morton's
“New England's Memorial; ” and for the period between
1630 and 1650, the larger part of Hubbard is but a literal
repetition of Winthrop. The book seems to have been
done as a mere literary job. -
A more agreeable task awaits us when we come to the
study of Hubbard’s “Narrative of the Troubles with the
Indians in New England,” from the earliest white settle-
ment to the year 1677. If, in the seventeenth century, was
produced in America any prose work which, for its almost
universal diffusion among the people, deserves the name
of an American classic, it is this work. The author evi-
dently wrought upon it with genuine zest. It is not with-
out serious faults. As a whole the narrative would now
seem tedious, being clogged by petty items, often wander-
ing into digressions, lacking a continuous and culminating
power. Moreover, the work has a still greater blemish;
it is inaccurate. An antiquarian of our time calls the
author “the careless Hubbard; ” “ and one of his own con-
temporaries says, with some exaggeration, of the work
*First published by Mass. Hist. Soc. 1815; reprinted by the same Society
in 1848, under the editorial care of Thaddeus Mason Harris.
* First published, both in Boston and in London, in 1677. The London.
edition is the more accurate, and probably had the personal supervision of
the author, who, there is reason to think, went to London with a copy of his
work. The best reprint of the work is one edited by S. G. Drake, 2 vols.
Roxbury, 1865. My quotations, however, are from the Stockbridge re-
print, 1803; but I have collated them with the corresponding passages in
T)rake's ed.
* Alexander Young, “Chron. Pilg.” 334, note.
I36 A/S 7'OR Y OF AMER/CAAW Z/7′ERA 7'UAEA2.
now before us, “the mistakes are judged to be many more
than the truths in it.” ". In spite of all this, however, as
a narrative embodying the spirit of early New England
heroism, it has qualities that still give to it something of
the interest which it had for its original readers. In many
passages the style is strong, picturesque, dramatic, enli-
vened by an occasional touch of sarcasm or humor; de-
tached incidents are often told with thrilling effect. It is
not impossible for us even now to understand why, during
several generations, the book had an absorbing fascination
for its readers in New England, to whom these Indian
stories brought home again the traditions of dreadful ex-
perience and daring achievement on the part of their own
kindred.
In one thing, certainly, the book is authentic; it repre-
sents the immeasurable rage against the Indians, that
had at last taken possession of the white inhabitants of
New England,-their final purpose to count out those
bipeds from the list of human beings, and to wipe them
out from the face of the earth. Here Hubbard is the
frank voice of his contemporaries. He utters words about
the red men, that are rasping and fell; such as one hears
still, upon the same topic, on the American frontiers. In
his pages, the Indians are “treacherous villains,” “the
dross of mankind,” “ “the dregs and lees of the earth,” +
“faithless and ungrateful monsters,” “ “children of the
Devil, full of all subtlety and malice,”" and Philip himself
is “this treacherous and perfidious caitiff.” 7 “Subtlety,
malice, and revenge seem to be as inseparable from them
as if it were a part of their essence. Whatever hopes
may be of their conversion to Christianity in after time,
there is but little appearance of any truth in their hearts
at present, where so much of the contrary is ordinarily
-*==
John Cotton of Plymouth, in letter to Increase Mather, 4 Mass. Hist.
Soc. Coll. VIII. 232.
* “Indian Wars,” I8. 3 Ibid. I 8. * Ibid. 18.
* Ibid. I 18. - * Ibid. I2O. * Ibid. 69.
WZZZZA M H U BAEARD. I37
breathed out of their mouths.” Of the fate of cer-
tain Indians taken in battle, he has this quiet and classic
description: “The men . . . were turned presently into
Charon's ferry-boat, under the command of skipper Gallop,
who dispatched them, a little without the harbor.””
Along these old pages, which almost quiver with fury
against the Indians, and are strewn with words that seem
to weary the vocabulary of execration and contempt, we
now and then come to a portrait of some Indian who is
neither brute nor caitiff, but for pride and fortitude towers
into a hero, and renders credible Dryden's conception
of “the noble savage.” One day, during King Philip's
War, some white men and a few Indian allies, resting in
front of their camp in the woods, caught sight, at a dis-
tance, of a stalwart Indian, of princely air, running swiftly
as if from pursuit. They “guessed by the swiftness of
his motion, that he fled as if an enemy.” They instantly
joined in the chase; and one of them, an Indian named
Catapazet, “put him so hard to it, that he cast off, first his
blanket, then his silver-laced coat and belt of peag, which
made Catapazet conclude it was the right bird. . . . So as
they forced him to take the water, through which as he
overhastingly plunged, his foot slipping upon a stone, it
made him fall into the water so deep as it wetted his
gun ; upon which accident, he confessed soon after, that
his heart and his bowels turned within him, so as he be-
came like a rotten stick, void of strength ; insomuch as
one Monopoide, a Pequod, swiftest of foot, laid hold
of him within thirty rod of the riverside, without his
making any resistance; though he was a very proper man,
of goodly stature and great courage of mind, as well as
strength of body. One of the first English that came up
with him was Robert Stanton, a young man that scarce
had reached the twenty-second year of his age; yet adven-
turing to ask him a question or two, to whom this manly
* “Indian Wars,” 359-360. * Ibid. 42.
138 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERA 7'URE. .
Sachem, looking with a little neglect upon his youthful
face, replied in broken English, “You much child, no
understand matters of war; let your brother or your chief
come, him I will answer;' and was as good as his word,
acting herein as if, by a Pythagorean metempsychosis,
some old Roman ghost had possessed the body of this
western pagan. . . . He continuing in the same his ob-
stinate resolution, was carried soon after to Stonington,
where he was shot to death by some of his own quality.
. . . This was the confusion of a damned wretch, that had
often opened his mouth to blaspheme the name of the
living God, and those that made profession thereof. . . .
And when he was told his sentence was to die, he said he
liked it well; that he should die before his heart was soft,
or had spoken anything unworthy of himself.” "
III.
Of the sorrowful conflict in New England between Eng-
lishmen and Indians, reaching its reddest crisis in 1676,
there is no more graphic or more exquisite literary memo-
rial than a little book written by a woman—who had in
her own person a frightful experience of it——Mary Row-
landson, wife of the pastor of the church at Lancaster, then
an outpost of civilization. In the bitterness of winter,
February the tenth, 1676, while her husband was absent
in Boston, the town in which she lived was suddenly as-
saulted and destroyed by Indians; and she, with her chil-
dren, was carried away into captivity, experiencing horrible
treatment. After eleven weeks and five days, with money
raised for the purpose by the women of Boston, she was
ransomed; and while all the anguish of her fright and suf-
fering was still fresh in her memory, she wrote a narrative
of her captivity, which was first printed in New England
in 1682, was reissued in London the same year, and has
! “Indian Wars,” 167–169.
JOHN WILLIAMS. I39
been repeatedly published since then." It is a series of
life-like pictures of the wild and sorrowful scenes that she
had encountered; is most effective in its artless touches
of pathos; and is such an exhibition of Indian barbarity
as must have driven still deeper into the minds of the
New-Englanders their hate of the red men, and their quiet
purpose of giving them over to doom. The diction of
this little book is admirable,_the pure, idiomatic, and
sinewy English of a cultivated American matron.
Another powerful picture of Indian cruelty, but refer-
ring to a time nearly thirty years later, is “The Redeemed
Captive,” by John Williams,” who, in 1686, at the age of
twenty-two, had entered upon his life-long pastorate at
Deerfield, Massachusetts. This village was then on the
furthest edge of the white settlements, and was protected
from Indian assaults only by a rude picketed fort. Sen-
tinels kept guard every night; even in the daytime, no
one left his door-steps without a musket; and neighborly
communication between the houses was kept up principally
by underground passages from cellar to cellar. In the
winter of 1704, the inhabitants had received warning of
unusual danger approaching them; and at their request
twenty soldiers had been sent to them as a special guard.
On the night of February twenty-eighth, the watch pa-
trolled the streets until just before dawn, when, unfor-
tunately, they yielded to the desire for sleep; upon which,
three hundred Frenchmen and Indians from Canada, who
had been skulking in the neighborhood, waiting for such
an opportunity, got into the hapless town. What followed,
in that hideous winter-darkness, when savage and fiendish
lusts were at once let loose upon victims who were abso-
lutely powerless, is told, with genuine pathos, by the pas-
* The first ed. is entitled “The Sovereignty and Goodness of God: A Nar-
rative of the Captivity and Restoration of Mrs. Mary Rowlandson.” The
6th ed. appeared in 1828.
* Born at Roxbury, 1664; graduated at Harvard, 1683.
I4O Aff/STORY OF AMEAC/CAAV ZAZTERA 7'URAE.
tor, himself and family being among the chief sufferers."
In the same touching manner, he narrates the whole story
of his captivity: this long, faint march through the snows
to Canada; the cruelties and the courtesies he experienced
there; his efforts to recover his children from the Indians;
the adroit and persistent attempts of the Jesuits to induce
him to apostatize from his faith; and finally, after a bond-
age of more than two years, his redemption and return
home, with all his children, excepting one, a daughter, who
remained the rest of her life among her captors.” In the
year following his restoration, he published his famous
narrative, which has since then been six times reprinted,
and has contributed its tinge of horror and hate to the
white man's memory of the Indian.
In the lineage of New England military prowess, a true
descendant of Miles Standish and of John Mason was
Colonel Benjamin Church; born at Plymouth, Massachu-
setts, in 1639; founder of Little Compton, where he died
in 1718; a matchless guerilla-leader; the most famous
Indian-fighter of his day; especially renowned as the con-
queror of King Philip, and as the invincible champion of
the white men in five other wars against the Indians. In
his old age, he put into the hands of his son, Thomas, the
memoranda he had kept of his campaigns, and he caused
to be written and published, in 1716, “Entertaining Pas-
sages Relating to Philip's War . . . as also of Expedi-
tions more lately made against the Common Enemy and
Indian Rebels in the Eastern Parts of New England; ” “a
book that stirred the very heart of New England, holding
* “Redeemed Captive,” Io—17.
* This daughter was Eunice, then ten years old. She could not afterward
be induced to leave the Indians, having herself become an Indian in habit
and language, and having been smitten by the almost incurable fascination of
savage life. She married an Indian ; and their supposed grandson or great-
grandson was Eleazer Williams, once notorious in this country for his claim
to be the lost Dauphin, son of Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette.
* Reprinted, with elaborate and careful editing by Henry Martyn Dexter,
Boston, first part, I865; second part, I867.
SAMUEL PAEAVHAL/CO W. I4I
“children from play and old men from the chimney-cor-
ner,” having indeed a spell almost beyond the reach of
literary art. It is a soldier's bluff narrative of his own
dangerous and enticing adventures; it is full of individual
incidents—risks, grapplings, bloodshed, leaps in the dark,
all manner of stern things, The reader seems to be a
listener, and to be sitting by the side of this scarred and
ancient paladin of the New England bush-whackers, and
to hear his very talk, as he narrates, frankly, vividly, and
always with a strong man's modesty, the deeds that once
saved every New England man's door-post from being
bespattered with the blood of his own wife and children.
Another fine old chronicler of the Indian troubles was
Samuel Penhallow, born in England in 1665, and educated
at the celebrated dissenting academy of Charles Morton
in Newington Green, where he may have had Daniel De
Foe for a school-mate. In 1686, with his teacher, he came
to New England, intending to complete his studies for
the Christian ministry; instead of which, however, he mar-
ried a young woman of great wealth at Portsmouth, New
Hampshire; and thenceforward resided there, devoting
himself to the care of his property, and to the public ser-
vice. He built a stately mansion ; lived in the grand man-
ner of our colonial gentry; practised a boundless hospi-
tality; acquired great influence in the province; was for
many years its treasurer; and died, as its chief-justice, in
1726. New Hampshire, being then a frontier colony, had
in its outlying settlements no rest, day or night, from the
peril of an Indian massacre; and in the very year in
which Penhallow died, he published, in Boston, “The His-
tory of the Wars of New England with the Eastern In-
dians,” “covering the period from 1703 to 1726,-a realistic
and vivid story of all that time of anguish, of the various
assaults of the Indians upon the habitations of white men,
* Reprinted in Boston, 1826; also in N. H. Hist. Soc. Coll. I. ; also in
Philadelphia, 1859. My references are to the reprint last named.
I42 AZS 7'ORY OF AMER/CAAV ZATERA 7'OAQA2.
especially of several stiff and dreadful fights in which the
two races grappled together in the woods. He himself
says of his book that he might have named it, after Oro-
sius, “De Miserià Hominum,” since it is “no other than a
narrative of tragical incursions perpetrated by bloody pa-
gans, who are monsters of such cruelty that the words of
Virgil may not unaptly be applied to them:
Tristius haud illis monstrum, nec saevior ulla
Pestis et ira deúm.””
He indicates the cruelty of the savages rather by har-
rowing facts than by epithets; yet the flow of the history
is sometimes broken by a sentence in which one almost
hears a sob of grief and rage. No veil is cast by him over
ghastly and blood-clotted things; our sensibilities are never
spared; we come face to face, constantly, with the hard
and the horrible. In one place, we read the proclamation
of the government offering from ten to fifty pounds for
every Indian scalp that shall be brought in ; in another, we
See a procession of white captives driven onward through
the woods, fainting by the way, some of them knocked on
the head, “teeming women in cold blood . . . ript open,
others fastened to stakes and burnt alive.”* We have a
glimpse, too, of a scene like this: A group of Indians one
day skulking near the negligent garrison of Haverhill,
and taking it by surprise; the sentinel is slain ; the only
white person at all adequate being a brave woman, who
“ perceiving the misery that was attending her, and hav-
ing boiling soap on the fire,” throws it over the assailants,
scalding one of them to death. But she is carried off by
the savages; after a few days of weariness and cruelty she
is delivered of a child; “but the babe soon perished . . .
by the cruelty of the Indians, who, as it cried, threw hot
embers in its mouth.”* On another page, we are made
acquainted with a most gritty hero, one Lieutenant Rob-
bins, who, being mortally wounded in Lovewell's famous
* “The History,” etc. 13. * Ibid. 47. * Ibid. 23.
SAMUEL AVYZAZ.S. I43
fight, is about to be left on the field by his retreating com-
panions; but “being sensible of his dying state, desired
one of the company to charge his gun and leave it with
him, being persuaded that the Indians by the morning
would come and scalp him, but was desirous of killing one
more before he died.”"
It lends a sort of charm to this unshrinking narrative of
human wretchedness, that the author often dashes his
story with reminiscences of his early classical studies, giv-
ing to it a gentle flavor of pedantry, and especially sug-
gesting a piquant contrast between lettered and elegant
peace and the savagery of the facts which he records. He
quotes Virgil, Horace, Plutarch. Now and then he finds
a parallelism between these fatal incidents done in the
American wilderness, and others done to immortal remem-
brance in Greek or Roman story: as, that two aged men,
“Mr. Phipenny and Mr. Kent,” were attacked by Indians,
“ and soon fell by their fury; for, being advanced in years,
they were so infirm that I might say of them, as Juvenal
did of Priam, they had scarce blood enough left to tinge
the knife of the sacrifice.” This conjuction of Priam and
Mr. Phipenny is unexpected, at the least.
We must make room for one more of these historians
of New England's agony of effort against its foes, Samuel
Niles, who was a Harvard graduate, an eminent min-
ister, and the author of a few books on theology and
church-polity. His special drift was toward history. In
I747, he published a narrative, in crude verse, of the re-
duction of Louisburg; and he left in manuscript a volu-
minous “History of the Indian and French Wars.”* The
life of the author stretched from before the time of King
Philip's War until after the time of the conquest of Can-
ada; and from his own memory he was able to compose
* “The History,” etc. 113. * Ibid. 20.
* Printed in 3 Mass. Hist. Soc. Coll. VI. 154–279, and in 4 Mass. Hist.
Soc. Coll. V. 309–589.
I44 Aſ/STORY OF AMER/CAAV ZAZTEAEA 7TUAEA2.
large portions of this work. He used freely, besides, the
labors of others. The book is written with some vigor
and verbal skill; but the narrative is straggling and long-
drawn, and the interest of the reader soon perishes in a
wilderness of petty details.
IV.
Thomas Prince was born at Sandwich, Massachusetts,
in 1687; was graduated at Harvard in 1707; and from
I718 to I Z58,-the last forty years of his life, was pastor
of the South Church, Boston ; during all those years filling
a high and great space in the thoughts of his contempora-
ries. He had prepared himself for the public service by
diligent study at home, and by eight years of observation
abroad; he was a man of most tolerant and brotherly
spirit; his days were filled by gentle and gracious and la-
borious deeds; he was a great scholar; he magnified his
office and edified the brethren by publishing a large number
of judicious and nutritious sermons; he also revised and
improved the New England Psalm Book, “by an endeavor
after a yet nearer approach to the inspired original, as well
as to the rules of poetry;”* he took a special interest in
physical science, and formed quite definite opinions about
earthquakes, comets, “the electrical substance,” and so
forth. For all these things, he was deeply honored in his
own time, and would have been deeply forgotten in ours,
had he not added to them very unique performances as
an historian. No American writer before Thomas Prince,
qualified himself for the service of history by so much
conscious and specific preparation ; and though others did
more work in that service, none did better work than he.
The foundation of his character as an historian was laid
in reverence, not only for truth, but for precision, and in
willingness to win it at any cost of labor and of time. He
* Part of title-page, first ed. Boston, I758.
7A/OMAS AE2/8/AVCE. I45
likewise felt the peculiar authority of originals in historical
testimony, and the potential value, for historical illustra-
tion, of all written or printed materials whatsoever; and
while he was yet a college-boy, driven by the sacred ava-
rice of an antiquarian and a bibliographer, he began to
gather that great library of early American documents,
which kept growing upon his hands in magnitude and in
wealth as long as his life lasted, and which, notwithstand-
ing the ravages of time, of British troops, of book-borrow-
ers, and of book-thieves, still remains for him a barrier
against oblivion, and for every student of early American
thought and action, a copious treasure-house of help."
Even in childhood, Thomas Prince had felt the attrac-
tions of American history; even then he had noted some
blemishes in the attempts thus far made to write it; and
later, during his residence in Europe, he had become con-
scious of the ambition to give his life to its pursuit: “In
my foreign travels I found the want of a regular history
of this country everywhere complained of, and was often
moved to undertake it; though I could not think myself
equal to a work so noble as the subject merits. . . . And
yet I had a secret thought that, upon returning to my
native country, in case I should fall into a state of leisure,
. . . I would attempt a brief account of facts at least, in
the form of annals.” But the pastorship of a great church
in Boston was not a state of leisure; and it was not until
eighteen years had passed, after his return to New Eng-
land, that he was able in any measure to gratify his cher-
ished passion. In 1736, he gave to the public the first
volume of his “Chronological History of New England, in
the Form of Annals,”—the most genuine and the most
meritorious piece of historical work published in America
up to that date.
* The Prince Library is now in the careful and generous custody of the
Boston Public Library. An admirable catalogue of it has been published
under the superintendence of Justin Winsor, Boston, 1870.
2 “Chron. Hist. N. E.” Pref. ii.
"VOL. II.-IO
I46 H/STORY OF AMER/CAM ZZZTERA 7TURE.
His plan was to write a history somewhat in the manner
of Archbishop Usher's Annals; the principal features be-
ing exactness, brevity, and a statement of events in the
order of time: an austere scheme, both for writer and for
reader, “comprising only facts in a chronological epitome,
to enlighten the understanding,” and repelling all “arti-
ficial ornaments and descriptions to raise the imagination
and affections.””
He was a devotee to historical accuracy, a knight-errant
of precise and unadorned fact, an historical sceptic before
the philosophy of historical scepticism was born: “I would
not take the least iota upon trust, if possible; I examined
the original authors I could meet with.”* “Some may
think me rather too critical; others that I relate some cir-
cumstances too minute. . . . As for the first, I think a
writer of facts cannot be too critical. It is exactness I
aim at, and would not have the least mistake if possible
pass to the world.”” “In short, I cite my vouchers to
every passage; and I have done my utmost, first to find
out the truth, and then to relate it in the clearest order.
I have labored after accuracy; and yet I dare not say that
I am without mistake; nor do I desire the reader to con-
ceal any he may possibly find. But on the contrary I offer
this work to the public view, that it may be perused with
the most critical eye, that every error may be discovered,
and the correction published.” “
Such was his attitude toward historical accuracy. Now
let us see what was his attitude toward historical fairness.
In another noble passage of self-revelation, he says: “As
to impartiality, I know it is usual for the writers of history
to assert it, some in their prefaces, others in the front of
their works; some in the strongest terms, who have been
notoriously guilty of the contrary; and I am apt to think
that many are partial who are insensible of it. For myself,
! “Chron. Hist, N E.” Dedication. 2 Ibid. Pref. iv.
8 Ibid. ix. * Ibid. xi.
7A/OMAS PR/AVCE. I47
I own I am on the side of pure Christianity; as also of
civil and religious liberty, and this for the low as well as
high, for the laity as well as the clergy; I am for leaving
every one to the freedom of worshipping according to the
light of his conscience; and for extending charity to every
one who receives the gospel as the rule of his faith and
life; I am on the side of meekness, patience, gentleness,
and innocence. And I hope my inclination to these great
principles will not bias me to a misrecital of facts, but
rather to state them as I really find them for the public
benefit.” "
In carrying out his plan of writing the history of his
own country, it seemed to him right to present it in its
relations to the precedent history of all the world; for he
held that the story of New England was not some isolated
and forlorn chapter in the appendix of the book of time,
but an integral part of that book, bound up in a volume
with the rest in logical and chronological sequence: “It
may be grateful to many readers to see the age of the
world when this part of the earth came to be known to
the other; and the line of time, with the succession of the
principal persons, events, and transactions, which had been
running on from the creation to the settlement of this
country by a colony from England.” Accordingly, with
great pains and great accuracy, and upon a close study of
all the leading systems of chronology, as well as of all the
original authors in Hebrew, Greek, and Roman history,
he proceeds to give the succession of the world’s great
events, from Adam, “year one, first month, sixth day,”
down to the accession of James the First of England,
year sixteen hundred and three, third month, twenty-
fourth day. At last, having completed this immense in-
troduction, which has its utility, but involved a sad mis-
calculation of the time at his disposal, and likewise proved
to be a porch of inordinate size for his unfinished edifice,
! “Chron. Hist. N. E.” Pref. x. * Ibid. Introd. I.
I48 AZSZTO/e Y OF A//ZAC/CAAW Z/7Z/e 4 7'07/8A2.
he reaches the chronology of New England, of which the
first part extends from the accession of James the First .
to the settlement of Plymouth, December the thirty-first,
1620; and the second part, from that date to events in
New England history as late as August the fifth, 1633.”
Throughout the work he is faithful to his promise of
giving only nude facts, spurning all embellishments. His
entries are made in the hard and compact form of a regis-
ter, absolutely unimaginative and unemotional ; yet as he
reaches certain great epochs of history, he seems unable
to keep back at least a sentence throbbing with suppressed
feeling, or darting with the thrust of a sarcasm. Sometimes,
indeed, this parenthetical sentence broadens into a para-
graph, and breathes the music of a temperate and fine
eloquence. Thus, when about to usher in the discovery
of America, he gives himself pause, and says: “We are
now to turn our eyes to the west, and see a new world ap-
pearing in the Atlantic Ocean, to the great surprise and
entertainment of the other. Christopher Columbus or
Colonus, a Genoese, is the first discoverer. . . . He be-
comes possessed with a strong persuasion that in order
to balance the terraqueous globe and proportion the seas
and lands to each other, there must needs be formed a
mighty continent on the other side, which boldness, art,
and resolution would soon discover. . . . Ferdinand and
Isabella, . . . after five years' urging, are at last prevailed
upon to furnish him with three ships and ninety men for
this great enterprise; which, through the growing opposi-
tion of his fearful mariners, he at length accomplishes, to
his own immortal fame and the infinite advantage of in-
numerable others.””
* His first volume abruptly closed at Sept. 7, 1630, on warning from the
printer that, if he went further, it would become “too unsizable;” and the
remainder of his fragment, comprising three numbers, was afterward pub-
lished in pamphlets. These are reprinted in 2 Mass. Hist. Soc. Coll. VII.
189-295; also in S. G. Drake's ed. of “Chron. Hist. N. E.” 1852.
* “Chron. Hist. N. E.” Introd. 78.
THOMAS PRINCE. I49
As he draws near to the time of the settlement of New
England, he again stops, and takes a long view, and draws
a long breath : “Having passed through the seven great
periods of time from the creation to the beginning of the
British empire, with the discovery of that Indian shore
which is soon to be the theatre of our Chronology, a new
face of things appears both to the western parts of Europe
and the eastern of America. . . . Divers attempts are
made to settle this rough and northern country; first by
the French, . . . and then by the English, and both from
mere secular views. But such a train of crosses accom-
pany these designs of both nations, that they seem to give
it over as not worth the planting; till a pious people of
England, not there allowed to worship their Maker accord-
ing to his institutions only, . . . are spirited to attempt
the settlement.” “So there were just one hundred and
one who sailed from Plymouth in England; . . . and this
is the solitary number who for an undefiled conscience
and the love of a pure Christianity, first left their na-
tive and pleasant land, and encountered all the toils and
hazards of the tumultuous Ocean, in search of some un-
cultivated region in North Virginia, where they might
quietly enjoy their religious liberties, and transmit them
to posterity, in hopes none would follow to disturb or vex
them.” ”
Passages like these, occurring in the midst of long and
arid patches of chronological registration, have a sweet and
stirring tone; yet the predominant effect of the book is
depressing. The publication of it was a disappointment
and a failure. A long list of subscribers had shown their
interest in the inception of his great work: few had any
interest to show in its continuance. Of course the author
was discouraged. Nearly twenty years passed by be-
fore he had the heart to go on with his task; and then
age, illness, public occupations, were too heavy upon him.
1 “Chron. Hist. N. E.” Part I. I–3. ? Ibid. 86.
I5O Aff/STOM’ Y OF AMER/CAAV ZA 7"E.RA 7'URAE.
Nevertheless, even as a fragment the “Chronological His-
tory of New England” is the most scholarly piece of lit-
erary work wrought in America during the colonial time;
and in the particular sphere of historical writing, it repre-
sents not only a great advance upon all that had been
achieved among us before its time, but the true method,
and the prophecy, of all that was to be achieved among
us afterward.
V.
In 1739, three years after the publication of the great
historical treatise of Thomas Prince, appeared an historical
brochure, which deserves remembrance for the worthy
quality of its work, and as a token of the spread among us
of genuine methods of historical inquiry. This is “An
Historical Discourse” by John Callender,’ minister of the
First Baptist Church of Newport, Rhode Island. It is a
careful and well-written sketch of the history of Rhode
Island for the first century of its existence; and is espe-
cially notable for its fine antiquarian spirit, for its catho-
licity of tone, and for the poise and amenity with which
the author refers to those painful facts in the early his-
tory of Massachusetts that had, in fact, produced the
early history of Rhode Island. His prevalent magnanim-
ity of statement gives greater edge and power to his occa-
sional references to the intolerance which had once embit-
tered human life in the elder commonwealth: “In reality
the true grounds of liberty of conscience were not then
known or embraced by any sect or party of Christians.
. . . So that it was not singular or peculiar in those peo-
ple at the Massachusetts to think themselves bound in
conscience to use the sword of the civil magistrate to open
the understandings of heretics. . . . These were not the
1 Born 1707; graduated at Harvard 1723; minister at Newport from 1731
till his death in 1748; his “Historical Discourse” was written in 1738;
printed in 1739; reprinted in R. I. Hist. Soc. Coll. IV. 45–176.
WILLIAM DOUGLASS. I5 I
only people who thought they were doing God good ser-
vice, when smiting their brethren and fellow-servants. All
other Christian sects acted generally as if they thought this
was the very best service they could do to God, and the
most effectual way to promote the gospel of peace, and
prove themselves the true and genuine disciples of Jesus
Christ—of Jesus Christ, who hath declared his kingdom
was not of this world, who had commanded his disciples
to call no man master on earth, who had forbidden them
to exercise lordship over each other's consciences.”
VI.
A work which has made for itself a prominent place in
the literature of this period, and which, through the notice
taken of it by Adam Smith, has been lifted into some Euro-
pean celebrity, is the “Summary, Historical and Political,
of . . . the British Settlements in North America.”* Its
author was William Douglass, a Scotsman, who, after an
ample training in medicine at Leyden and at Paris, came
to Boston in 1718, he being then about twenty-seven years
of age. In Boston he established himself as a physician;
and there he died in 1752. He was a man of large but
heterogeneous knowledge, and blessed with a sovereign
confidence in himself and his own opinions; and being
also dogmatic, intolerant, of quick temper and boundless
energy, fiery as a friend, still more fiery as an enemy, fond
of strife, glib in speech, with a passion for rushing into
print, his life was one prolonged and blissful warfare with
all persons whom he could pick a quarrel with, chiefly,
his own professional brethren, likewise the clergy, the
magistrates, and the successive governors of the colony.
He had great sagacity and shrewdness, and a pitiless
* The Discourse, in R. I. Hist. Soc. Coll. IV. 70–71.
* Published in 2 vols. Boston, 1748–1753.
I52 Jſ/STORY OF AMER/CAAV ZAZTERA 7'URE.
way of dissecting fashionable enthusiasms and prejudices;
a keen, racy, original diction; infinite courage in utter-
ance. In a land still dominated by Calvinistic orthodoxy,
he avowed himself a rationalist, saying that “the wise and
thinking part of mankind” had at last learned “to regu-
late themselves by natural religion only.” He praised
David Brainerd as “a true and zealous missionary,” but
said that allowances must be made for “his weak, enthusi-
astic turn of mind.” He condescended to call the apostle
Eliot a good man, but added that it was a sheer waste of
labor for him to translate the Bible into the language of a
petty tribe of Indians who could not read and were soon
to be extinct.” In the midst of the devout raptures of the
people over Whitefield's preaching, Douglass coolly com-
puted the marketable value of the time spent by them in
listening to this “vagrant enthusiast,” and announced that
every exhortation of Whitefield in Boston, by diverting la-
borers from the work by which they supported their fam-
ilies, was a damage to that town to the extent of about
a thousand pounds sterling. No sphere of life was safe
from his intrusions; no topic escaped the puncture of his
criticisms; he was always ready to proclaim his opinions;
and even when those opinions failed to be justified by
events, he had a Falstaffian assurance in standing by them
still, and a Falstaffian wit in covering up the awkward-
ness of his discomfiture. For example, on account of his
hostility to the men at that time in power, he publicly
ridiculed the New England expedition for the capture of
Cape Breton, declaring that the scheme was a folly, and
would be a failure; and when, in due time, the news came
that Cape Breton had been captured, he was not in the
least disconcerted, merely remarking that he was entirely
right in his conjectures, but that “fortune would always
wait upon blunderers and quacks.” -
The larger part of mankind seemed to be alike in this,
* “Summary,” I. 438. * Ibid. II. II.7.
* Ibid. I. I72. * J. Thacher, “Am Med. Biography,” I. 256.
WZZZZAM DOUGLASS. I53
that they were the objects of his contempt; none more so
than the practitioners of medicine in New England in his
time: “In our plantations, a practitioner, bold, rash, im-
pudent, a liar, basely born and educated, has much the
advantage of an honest, cautious, modest gentleman. In
general the physical practice in our colonies is so per-
niciously bad, that excepting in surgery, and some very
acute cases, it is better to let nature under a proper regi-
men take her course, . . . than to trust to the honesty
and sagacity of the practitioner. Our American practi.
tioners are so rash and officious, the saying in . . . Eccle-
siasticus . . . may with much propriety be applied to
them: ‘He that sinneth before his Maker, let him fall into
the hand of the physician.’ Frequently there is more
danger from the physician than from the distemper. . . .
But sometimes, notwithstanding of malpractice, nature
gets the better of the doctor, and the patient recovers.
Our practitioners deal much in quackery and quackish
medicines, as requiring no labor of thought or composi-
tion, and highly recommended in the London quack-bills—
in which all the reading of many of our practitioners con-
sists. . . . In the most trifling cases they use a routine of
practice. When I first arrived in New England, I asked
. . . a noted, facetious practitioner, what was their general
method of practice. He told me their practice was very
uniform : bleeding, vomiting, blistering, purging, anodyne,
and so forth ; if the illness continued, there was “repeten-
di; " and finally ‘murderandi; ' nature was never to be con-
sulted or allowed to have any concern in the affair. What
Sydenham well observes, is the case with our practition-
ers: ‘AEger nimiä medici diligentiá ad plures migrat.’”
As an illustration of the amusing audacity of quacks in
the English colonies, he also cites a medical advertise-
ment, in which, among other nostrums, the doctor an-
nounces “an elegant medicine to prevent the yellow fever
* “Summary,” II. 351–352.
I54 A/YSTORY OF AMER/CAAW ZZZTE/e.A 7'URE.
•
and dry gripes in the West Indies; ” and this, Douglass
thinks, is only to be equalled by a similar advertisement
published in Jamaica, immediately after an earthquake
had done great destruction there. The physician offered
to the public “pills to prevent persons or their effects suf-
fering by earthquakes.” -
During all the long warfare of his career in New Eng-
land, William Douglass kept his pen constantly wet with
ink, producing newspaper articles, pamphlets, medical
books; and it was but natural that a man of his versatile
and irrepressible activity should try his hand upon what
he called history. The book which we have already men-
tioned, and for which Douglass is now principally remem-
bered, is the evidence of this. He sincerely believed it to
be history; and with an amusing unconsciousness of his
own traits, he ascribes to himself nearly all the qualities
of a great historian, scarcely one of which he was in pos-
session of : “I have no personal disregard or malice, and
do write of the present times as if these things had
been transacted a hundred years since.” ” On the con-
trary, he was nothing if not partisan and malignant; and
his reports of contemporaneous events are saturated with
the fury of contemporaneous passions. In truth, he is
not an historian at all; he lacks the calmness of history,
its disinterestedness, its caution and reserve, its thorough-
ness, its accuracy, its nobility of expression. His style is
hurried, slipshod, irregular; his materials jumbled to-
gether in the hotchpotch manner; he flits from topic to
topic as the gust strikes him; with all his asserted intel-
lectual humility, he delights to exhibit his polyglot profi-
ciency, and covers his pages with specks of quotation from
foreign languages, especially Latin and French. He is
essentially a journalist and pamphleteer. He is hot, per-
sonal, caustic, capricious; and his history is only a con-
geries of pungent and racy editorial paragraphs.
* “Summary,” II. 352, note. * Ibid. I. 356.
WZZZ/AM DO UGLASS. I55
On the first page of the first volume of his “Summary,”
he announces his plan for making the book interesting:
“Descriptions and bare relations, although accurate and
instructive, to many readers are insipid and tedious; there-
fore a little seasoning is used. Where a ‘mica salis’ occurs,
may it not be disagreeable: it is not designed with any
malicious, invidious view. For the same reason, a small
digression, but not impertinent to the subject, is now and
then made use of ; as also some short illustrations.” As
the history proceeds, he abundantly fulfils his promise of
putting “a little seasoning ” into the insipid dish of plain
narrative—the seasoning of egotistic and sarcastic person-
alities. Moreover, he constantly acts as the chorus to his
own play; he stops its movement, in order to explain
something, to justify his method, to express the hope that
he is not getting tedious, or to regret that he is violating
his intended brevity, and that he is “prolix,” and that
his summary “swells too much.” His favorite literary
method is digression; and he employs it so frequently
that when he does chance to revert to historical narration,
the latter seems a sort of lapse from the main purpose of
the book. But, as usual with him, finding this method
convenient to himself, he stanchly defends it as the only
proper one: “This Pindaric or loose way of writing ought
not to be confined to lyric poetry; it seems to be more
agreeable by its variety and turns, than a rigid, dry, con-
nected account of things.”" - -
Perhaps his most readable passages are the foot-notes,
which are very numerous, and are reservoirs for his private
opinions—if he can be said to have had any—his whims, hob-
bies, and hostilities. He is also very droll in such passages
of the text as contain his reasons for not devoting himself
to a minute and wearisome study of original authorities
upon American history. Thus, on approaching the history
of New England, and on surveying the vast extent and
complexity of the subject, he relieves himself by the fol-
* “Summary,” I. 310.
I 56 A/STORP OF AMER/CAAV ZATERA 7TURE.
lowing comical preliminary groan of indignant criticism:
“This is a laborious affair, being obliged to consult manu-
script records. The many printed accounts are: 1. Too
credulous and superstitious. 2. Too trifling. Must the
insipid history of every brute . . . or man-animal be trans-
mitted to posterity ? 3. The accounts of every white
man and Indian mutually killed or otherwise dead, would
Swell and lower history so much as to render the perusal
of such histories (excepting with old women and children)
impracticable. 4. The succession of pious pastors, elders,
and deacons in the several townships, parishes, or congre-
gations I leave to ecclesiastic chronologers; canonization
or sainting seems not consistent with our Protestant prin-
ciples. 5. The printed accounts in all respects are, beyond
all excuse, intolerably erroneous.” "
Whether right or wrong in his opinions, he is never
wanting in explicitness in stating them. He has a multi-
tude of petted animosities, the Indians, the French, the
Reverend George Whitefield, the Bishop of Cloyne and
that prelate's nostrum of tar-water, paper-money, and so
forth ; and whenever, in the zigzag progress of his dis-
course, he catches a glimpse of any of these detested
objects, he discharges at them the slugs and hot-shot of
his vituperation. -
As for the Indians, “excepting speech, which is natural
to mankind, they seem to have been only a gregarious
sort of man-brutes; that is, they lived in tribes or herds
and nations, without letters, or arts further than to acquire
the necessaries of life; ” and until the white men came to
America and brought it into connection with the civilized
world, “America and the moon were much upon the same
footing with respect to Europe, Asia, and Africa.””
As for the French, they “are the common nuisance and
disturbers of Europe, and will in a short time become
the same in America, if not mutilated at home, and in
America fenced off from us by ditches and walls, that is,
* “Summary,” I. 361-362. ? Ibid. II6.
WYZZ/AM DOC/G/LA. S.S. I57
by great rivers and impracticable mountains. . . . Their
promises and faith are by them used only as a sort of
scaffolding, which, when the structure is finished, or project
effected, they drop. In all public treaties they are ‘gens
de mauvaise foi.’”"
As for the Reverend George Whitefield, he is “an insig-
nificant person, of no general learning, void of common
prudence. His journals are a rhapsody of Scripture-texts
and of his own cant expressions. . . . The strength of
his arguments lay in his lungs. . . . He and his disciples
seemed to be great promoters of impulses, ecstasies, and
wantonness between the sexes. Hypocritical professions,
vociferations, and itineracies, are devotional quackery.””
As for the Bishop of Cloyne, he “was an enthusiast in
many affairs of life, not confined to religion and the edu-
cation of youth. He invaded another of the learned
professions, Medicine. . . . He published a book called
‘Siris, . . . or Tar-Water.' . . . He ought to have checked
this officious genius (unless in his own profession-way he
had acquired this nostrum by inspiration) from intruding
into the affairs of a distinct profession.” "
As for paper-money, it is the “fallacious and designed
cheat of a plantation government,” “an “iniquitous or base
money currency,” an “accursed affair.” “I desire read-
ers . . . may excuse prolixity; when this vile chimera or
monster comes in my way, I cannot contain myself.” "
Upon the whole, William Douglass may be said to have
succeeded in his attempt at being amusing, if not at being
instructive. His book contains an enormous mass of
miscellaneous but untrustworthy information relating to
America and the rest of the world; and our present inter-
est in it is chiefly due to its representation of the author
himself; who, certainly, was a very definite, positive, origi-
nal, and self-centred person, never the echo or the shadow
of one. -
* “Summary,” I. 2–3. * Ibid. II. I41–142. * 1bid I. I49-151.
“Ibid. I. 3 Io. * Ibid. I. 334. “Ibid. II. 13. * Ibid. I. 499.
CHAPTER XV.
NEW ENGLAND : THE PULPIT IN LITERATURE.
I.—Continued ascendency of the clergy—Their full maintenance of the grand
traits of their predecessors, manliness, scholarship, thoughtfulness, elo-
quence—Their improvement upon their predecessors in breadth, and in
social and literary urbanity.
II.—John Higginson—Sketch of him by John Dunton—The power of his
character and of his long life—His election-sermon—His “Attestation ”
to the “Magnalia.”
III.-William Stoughton, preacher and statesman—His “Narrative of the
Proceedings of Andros”—His discourse on “New England's True In-
terest not to Lie”—Its literary ability—Its courage.
IV.-Urian Oakes—His greatness in prose as well as in verse—Contempo-
raneous estimates of him—His first artillery-sermon—Its great eloquence
—Its delineation of the Christian soldier—His election-sermon—His
second artillery-sermon.
V.—Samuel Willard—His “Complete Body of I)ivinity”—His career—His
theological lectures—Their great influence—Their publication in 1726 in
the first American folio—Strong qualities of the book.
VI.-Solomon Stoddard—His activity as a writer—His special reputation for
soundness of judgment—His “Answer to Some Cases of Conscience re-
specting the Country”—The sinfulness of long hair and of periwigs—
Condemnation of other frivolities. -
VII.-Benjamin Colman—His great contemporaneous influence in church
and state—His fine culture—His residence in England—His particular
friendships there—His return to Boston—His long and prosperous public
career—His discourses—Their literary polish—His charitable spirit.
VIII.-John Barnard of Marblehead—His versatile culture—His eminence
—His intellectual traits—His volumes of sermons—His gentlemanly
treatment of sinners.
IX-Jonathan Edwards—Outline of his life—His qualities, spiritual and
intellectual—His precocity in metaphysics, and in physics—His juvenile
writings—His more mature studies in science—His spiritual self-discipline
—His resolutions—The sorrows of his life—Habits as a student and
thinker—His power as a preacher—Analysis of his method in discourse—
“Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God”—His literary characteristics.
X.—Mather Byles—A scene in Hollis Street Church early in the Revolution
—His brilliant career before the Revolution—His versatility-The mis-
I58
CZAZA'G Y OA' WE W FAWGZA WD, - I59
fortune of his later reputation as a jester—A great pulpit-orator—His
literary qualities—IIis exposition of the preacher's character—His favorite
themes—Passages ſrom his sermons. &
XI.—Jonathan Mayhew—The lines of his influence—Estimate of him by
John Adams—Charles Chauncey—His traits—His hatred of inaccurate
and emotional utterance—His contempt for Whitefield–His discourse on
“Enthusiasm " — His “Seasonable Thoughts” – His portrait of the
enthusiast.
I.
IN our progress over the various fields of literature in
New England during the colonial time, we encounter not
one form of writing in which we are permitted to lose
sight of the clergy of New England,-their tireless and
versatile activity, their learning, their force of brain, their
force of character. But we are now to resume our study
of their writings in the field that was peculiarly their own,
—that of theological and religious exposition.
As we have already seen, the immigrant clergy of New
England—the founders of this noble and brilliant order
—were, in nearly all qualities of personal worth and great-
ness, among the greatest and the worthiest of their time,
in the mother-country, mighty Scholars, orators, sages,
saints. And by far the most wonderful thing about these
men is, that they were able to convey across the Atlantic,
into a naked wilderness, all the essential elements of that
ancient civilization out of which they came ; and at once,
to raise up and educate, in the new world, a line of mighty
successors in their sacred office, without the least break in
the sequence, without the slightest diminution in scholar-
ship, in eloquence, in intellectual energy, in moral power.
It cannot be doubted, indeed, that the great divines of
the immigrant period—those heroic pastors who led forth
their flocks into the American forests and founded here a
new empire—had in that very fact an enormous histori-
cal advantage over their successors in the ministry, an in-
approachable prestige and renown. Nevertheless, a study
of all the writings produced by the New England clergy,
I60 J//STORY OF AMER/CAAV ZAZTERA 7"URE.
from the years of the settlement to the years of the Revo-
lution, cannot fail to convince us that the men who came
after the Founders were as great as they : nay, that while
in any particulars the sons and the sons' sons equalled the
Fathers, in some particulars they outdid them ; they fully
maintained all the strong and lofty traits of the first gen-
eration—manliness, scholarship, thoughtfulness, eloquence,
purity—and even added to these traits, those of intel-
lectual breadth, of secular culture, of social and literary
urbanity. - - -
II.
In the year 1686, John Dunton of London paid a visit
to Salem, and there saw the senior minister of that place,
the aged John Higginson. “All men look on him,” wrote
Dunton,” “as a common father; and on old age for his
sake as a reverend thing. He is eminent for learning, hu-
mility, charity, and all those shining graces that adorn
a minister. His very presence and face puts vice out
of countenance. He is now in his eightieth year, yet
preaches every Sunday; and his conversation is a glimpse
of heaven.” This benign old man was then just ten years
younger than Dunton stated ; but after that, he lived just
twenty-two years, the last of the New England pioneers,
the father of all the faithful, manifesting to the end the
Sweetness and strength of character that covered with un-
wonted majesty his patriarchal years.
In 1629, a year before Boston was founded, he had come
to Salem, a boy of thirteen, with his father, Francis Hig-
ginson; he had received his education in the new world;
after many years of service as school-master and preacher
in Connecticut, he had returned to Salem, in I659; and
there he remained the rest of his days, in charge of the
church that his father had founded. He had great author-
ity in all the land—the authority of goodness, of wisdom,
* “Life and Errors of J. Dunton,” I. I27-128.
WILLIAM S7 OUGH TON. I61
and of ability. His earliest publication is the election-
sermon of 1663, entitled “The Cause of God and his
People in New England; ” a sturdy effort to check what
seemed to him the torrent of worldliness and wealth-seek-
ing there, by recalling to the people the purpose for which
they and their fathers had founded New England: “If
any man amongst us make religion as twelve and the
world as thirteen, let such an one know he hath neither the
spirit of a true New England man nor yet of a sincere
Christian.” It is a sermon that has the impressiveness im-
parted by a clear, earnest, consecrated mind; but is with-
out special literary superiority. His other publications,
seven in number, are all upon religious topics, either ex-
pository or historical; the most notable being his “Attes-
tation ” to the “Magnalia,” dated 1697, and printed as
one of the prefaces of that book. Many sentences of this
production are very noble; having especially some of the
antique qualities of thought and style that were then dying
out of English prose, massiveness of meaning, confidence
in the invisible goodness and truth, unconsciousness of
cynicism, a seer-like earnestness of tone, the quaint diction
of dead sages and saints, a gravity and reverberating ful-
ness of phrase, the expectation of intellectual fortitude in
those who read.
III.
During the last thirty years of the seventeenth century,
William Stoughton was a conspicuous statesman of New
England,-his great wealth, talent, learning, dignity, and
public spirit, winning for him a large measure of the public
confidence. He held, at various times, all the great offices
in the commonwealth; and it was his misfortune to be
chief-justice in the fatal time of the witchcraft delusion.
Unfortunately, his own cool judgment was utterly over-
1 The Sermon, II.
VOL. II. -I I
I62 HISTOR Y OF AMER/CAM L/7 ERA 7'URE.
borne in that epidemic of fury and of folly; and he be-
came a protagonist among the persecutors. The pitiless
and gratuitous savagery of his acts as a magistrate, tow-
ard those innocent and helpless creatures who fell under
a public accusation half malignant and half lunatic, have
Smirched his noble name with uncleansable dishonor.
He had in him the power to make for himself a great
place in American letters; but he spent his principal force
in outward affairs. Graduated at Harvard in 1650, at the
age of nineteen, and afterward fellow of New College,
Oxford, he began his public career as a minister; and
having in that profession acquired much reputation, he
passed out of it into politics. Two specimens, of his
ability as a writer have come down to us, representing the
two fields of sacred and secular activity to which in suc-
cession he devoted his life. The later and inferior speci-
men is “A Narrative of the Proceedings of Andros,”
published in 1691,'—a clumsy and dull performance. The
earlier and better specimen is, indeed, one of the land-
marks of literature in New England for that time, the
election-sermon preached by him in Boston, in 1668. It
bears the striking title, “New England's True Interest, not
to Lie.” A powerful document it must have been, in its
day; eloquent after the fashion of those times; conserva-
tive in thought, able in statement; courageously confront-
ing New England with its high obligations to God and to
itself, and accusing it of a drift toward shameful degen-
eracy in morals, piety, and manners; and it contains one
sentence that has become classic among us. The doctrine
of the discourse, he first expounds in the minute and tech-
nical style of the seventeenth century sermon-builders;
and as usual, the chief interest is reserved for the appli-
cation. Here, he charges the people of New England
with an extraordinary responsibility,+a responsibility de-
1 Included also among the reprints known as the “Andros Tracts,” 3 vols.
Boston, 1868–1874.
ORIAAW OA KAE.S. I63
rived from their own extraordinary character. They were
picked men, he tells them; selected by God himself out of
the common herd of mortals: “God sifted a whole nation
that he might send choice grain over into this wilder-
ness.” Hence, “it is a solemn conviction and charge
against us to have it spoken, as it must be spoken in the
name of the Lord this day, O New England, thy God
did expect better things from thee and thy children; not
worldliness and an insatiable desire after perishing things;
not whoredoms and fornications; not revilings and drunk-
enness; not oaths and false swearings; not exactions and
oppressions; not slanderings and backbitings; not rude-
ness and incivility—a degeneracy from the good manners
of the Christian world; not formality and profaneness, to
loathe manna, to despise holy things, to grow sermon-
proof and ordinance-proof; not contentions and disorders;
not an itching after new things and ways; not a rigid
Pharisaical spirit; not a contempt of superiors; not un-
thankfulness and disrespect to instruments of choice ser-
vice; not a growing weary of government, and a drawing
loose in the yoke of God; not these things, but better
things, O New England, hath thy God expected from
thee.”.”
IV.
In our study of the verse-writers of New England, we
have already met with Urian Oakes, whose “Elegy upon
the Death of Thomas Shepard ” we found to be among
the few examples of genuine poetry produced in America
in the colonial time. But his principal activity was as a
sermon-writer; and in that capacity he had no superior
among us during the seventeenth or the eighteenth cen-
tury. For once, Cotton Mather's fancifulness struck the
happy note in naming him “the Lactantius of New Eng-
* The Sermon, 19. 3 Ibid. 20,
I64 HISTORY OF AMER/CAAW LITERA 7TURE.
land; ”’ and when, in another place, this same provincial
pedant declared that Urian Oakes “was an Orpheus that
would have drawn the very stones to discipline,” he only
Smothered under an antic hyperbole the long-cherished
tradition concerning those marvellous fascinations of liv-
ing speech, which were wielded by the Cambridge pastor,
and which did not perish even when uttering themselves in
the cold oratory of print. I find in him an alert and forcible
intelligence, civility, cosmopolitan range ; an expression,
affluent, nervous, flexible ; a condensed energy of phrase;
the epithets that are born of original and poetic insight;
the gift of culminating and bright statement, crystallizing
into epigram.
It was in 1672, the first year after the return of Urian
Oakes from his long residence in the mother-country, that
he was selected to give the annual sermon * before the
artillery company of Boston, an association composed of
the first gentlemen in the colony, and intended to cherish
here the chivalric traits of military discipline and honor.
In speaking to such an audience, the orator naturally took
as his theme the parallelisms existing between the true
soldier and the true Christian. Here his rhetoric has a
martial movement; his sentences ring like bugle-notes.
There is high exhilaration—the dauntless ecstasy of hero-
ism and triumph—in the words with which he sets forth
the attributes of the warrior of Christ: “He is a man of
war from his birth. Neither is he a poor naked creature;
. . . but he comes into the new world in his suit of armor,
armed ‘cap-a-pie, with a complete armor of proof, being
vested with the graces of the spirit of Christ. He hath
his excellent and invincible General, . . . and hath taken
his “sacramentum militare,’ his oath of fidelity and obedi-

*~,
1 & 4 * II. I24. ? Ibid. II6.
3 This was printed at Cambridge 1674, and bore a title characteristic of the
age rather than of the man: “The Unconquerable, All-conquering, and more
than Conquering Soldier.”
&JRIAAW OAKA.S. I65
ence to the great Lord General. He hath also . . . his
company that he is listed into. . . . He hath his banner
to fight under. . . . He hath his arms and weapons, offen-
sive and defensive, to fight withal. He hath his soldierly
qualifications and military accomplishments, courage,
skill, patience, hope of victory, faithfulness to . . . his
General, orderliness, disposition to endure hardship, or
whatever else may be mentioned, . . . a soldier well ap-
pointed . . . to dispute it out with any adversary.”
Then, too, as every good man is a soldier, so, by a sad
antithesis, is every bad man a soldier likewise; “but he
fights against God, strengthens himself and stretches out
his hand against the Almighty. . . . He puts on the whole
armor of the Devil, that he may be able to stand against
all the shocks of conscience, or encounters of the word
and spirit of God, and fight it out to the last with the In-
finite Majesty, to the everlasting ruin of his immortal
soul.” In the long, bitter battle which is waging here,
they who are Christ's men find that their enemy, “the
world, can put on two faces, and change its countenance
as occasion serves. If feigned, flattering smiles will not
do, then killing frowns shall, if it be possible.” ” But, in-
deed, this will not be possible; for Christians “may be
opposed, combated, and contended withal, but never
routed, run down, totally defeated, or overthrown.” “
“Death may kill them but cannot conquer them.”" And
the Supreme moment for all Christian soldiers is, of course,
that endless one, which comes after the fierce campaigns
of earth are over, and when they pass under triumphal
arches to the repose of victory in heaven. They “have
fought their fight, and finished the course of their warfare,
and are . . . out of push of pike or gunshot, far enough
removed out of the reach of their adversaries. They are
marched out of the field, and discharged from any further
service, and enjoying their reward.”"
* The Sermon, 5. * Ibid. 5. * Ibid. 9.
* Ibid. 2. * Ibid. I6. * Ibid. 4.
q
I66 A/STORY OF AMER/CAAW Z/7 ERA TURAE.
It is not strange that the new pastor of Cambridge, hav-
ing made so thrilling and masterly an oration at the great
military anniversary of the colony, should have been sum-
moned to be the orator at its next great political anniver-
sary. Accordingly, in 1673, we find him giving the elec-
tion-sermon, taking as his subject the moral perils that
then hung over New England. He entitled his discourse,
“New England Pleaded With ; ”’ a brave and manly ex-
position of the evil tendencies then developed there,
formality, spiritual listlessness, immorality, irreverence,
worldliness, greed of wealth, sensualism, love of display in
dress, vanity, ostentation. As a literary effort, this dis-
course is not so brilliant as the artillery-sermon; has not so
many majestic and resounding passages; but it is very
searching, pungent, and strong, and must have produced a
vast impression as its invectives first leaped, in passion-
ate and pathetic tones, from the lips of the prophet, and
glanced down among a people most sensitive to such accu-
sations. There are in it also some sentences of broad
scope, worthy to become national aphorisms. This is one:
“It is the property of Englishmen, much more of religious
Englishmen, and should be most of all of religious New-
Englishmen, to be tenacious and tender of their liberties.”
Four years afterward, this matchless preacher stood
forth again as the orator of the artillery-company, giving
them a sermon on “The Sovereign Efficacy of Divine
Providence.” Addressing the foremost military organiza-
tion in the country, and reviewing the havoc and agony of
the war just closed with the Indians under Philip, he con-
fesses his humiliation, that with all their own military
training and their various other superiorities, they could
have been so terrified and so injured by such enemies; but
he warns his fellow-countrymen of obligations even more
sacred than those of a soldier, and of a hostility even more
1 Printed, Cambridge, 1673. * The Sermon, 50.
* Printed in 1682, after the author's death, with a preface by John Sherman.
SAMUEL WIZZARD. 167
terrible than that of the red men: “New England hath
enemies enough on earth and in hell; woe to us if we make
God in heaven our enemy also.” " -
V.
In the year 1726, the men of books in New England
noted with considerable exultation, as a sign of national
progress, the issue from an American printing-press, of a
huge folio volume, the largest that had ever been printed
in this country. It bore this well-deserved title, “A Com-
plete Body of Divinity.” Within its nine hundred and
fourteen pages, each page having two columns in small
and compact type, it held “two hundred and fifty ex-
pository lectures on the Assembly's Shorter Catechism,”
all written out and delivered in order by one busy man,
during a period of nineteen years. That man was Samuel .
Willard, himself, like his book, a body of divinity; a man
of inexpressible authority, in those days, throughout all
the land. He was born in 1640, in the woods of Concord;
in 1659 he was graduated at Harvard; he was settled in
the ministry, first at Groton, and then at the South
Church, Boston; he opposed the witchcraft persecutions;
he succeeded Increase Mather in the presidency of Har-
vard College, adding that service to his work as pastor; all
his lifetime, he was most fruitful in religious writings,
printed and unprinted; and he died in 1707. At his fu-
neral, Ebenezer Pemberton, his colleague, stood up and
spoke of him, as one “who had been for so long a time the
light, joy, and glory of the place,” and whose death was
“an awful rebuke of heaven upon this whole land.”
Nineteen years before his death, he began to give at his
own church, on Tuesday afternoons, once a month, an
elaborate lecture on theology. His was a mind formed
for theological method. He did not desire to impose
* ! The Sermon, 4o.
I68 AISTORY OF AMER/CAAV ZA 7TERA 7'URE.
upon himself or upon any one a slavish submission to a
theological system; he only wished to get for himself and
others the clearness and vigor and practical utility that
come from putting one's most careful ideas into orderly
combination. He was a theological drill-sergeant. He
was also a truly great divine. In the lectures upon system-
atic theology, which he thus began in 1688, and continued
unflinchingly till he died, his object was to move step by
step around “the whole circle of religion.” The fame of
his lucid talks on those great themes, soon flew abroad,
and drew to him a large, permanent audience of the
learned and the unlearned; and after his death, theologi-
cal students and others kept clamoring for the publication
of those talks. In 1726, all such persons were gratified.
“A Complete Body of Divinity” is a vast book, in all
senses; by no one to be trifled with. Let us salute it
with uncovered heads. The attempted perusal of all
these nine hundred and fourteen double-columned pages,
was, for many a theological scholar of the last century, a
liberal education—and a training in every heroic and
heavenly virtue. Along the pages of the venerable copy
that I have used—the copy which Jeremiah Dummer, of
the Middle Temple, London, sent over in 1727 as a gift
to Yale College—I find fading memorials of the toil, and
aspiration, and triumph, with which numerous worthy
young divines of the last age grappled with the task of
reading the book through ; but on the blank leaf at the
end, are only two inscriptions of final victory: “Lyman
perlegit, 1742,” and “Timothy Pitkin perlegit, A.D., 1765.”
Doubtless, both these heroes have long since had their
reward, and have entered into rest, which they Sorely
needed; and the others perished by the way.
The thought and expression of this literary mammoth
are lucid, firm, close. The author moves over the great
spaces of his subject with a calm and commanding tread,
as of one well assured both of himself and of the ground
he walked on. His object seemed to be, not merely to
SOLOMOAV SZTOD/DARD. I69
enlighten the mind, but to elevate the character and the
life; and whenever, in the discussion of a topic, he has
finished the merely logical process, he advances at once to
the practical bearings of it, and urges upon his hearers the
deductions of a moral logic, always doing this earnestly,
persuasively, and in a kingly way. The whole effect is
nutritious to brain and to moral sense; and the book
might still serve to make men good Christians as well as
good theologians—if only there were still left upon the
earth the men capable of reading it.
VI.
SOLOMON STODDARD was born in Boston, in 1643, his
father being an eminent merchant and politician of that
city, and his mother a sister of Sir George Downing. He
was graduated at Harvard College in 1662, and was settled
in the ministry at Northampton from 1669 until his death in
I73O: a man of reverend look, strong judgment, industry,
learning, uncommon logical faculty; “for some years the
most aged minister in the province, . . . a Peter here
among the disciples and ministers of our Lord Jesus, very
much our primate and a prince among us.” He seems not
to have published anything until he was past fifty years of
age; but from that time onward, his publications were nu-
merous, in the form of sermons, controversial pamphlets,
and treatises relating to theology and to personal conduct.
His mental vision was a singularly clear one; and per-
sons enveloped in various sorts of theological and ethical
fog, were much inclined to depend on his superior eye-
sight. Thus, in 1722, he published a little book called
“An Answer to Some Cases of Conscience respecting the
Country;” wherein he solves ten great questions apper-
taining to New England casuistry. Some of these ques-
* Benjamin Colman, Sermon on Death of Stoddard, quoted in W. B.
Sprague, “Annals of Am. Pulpit,” I. I74.
I7o HISTORY OF AMERICAAW L/7 ERA 7'U.R.E.
tions are: “What right doth belong to the Sabbath?’”
“At what time of the evening doth the Sabbath begin?”
“Did we any wrong to the Indians, in buying their land
at a small price?” “Is it lawful for men to set their dwell-
ing-houses at such a distance from the place of public
worship that they and their families cannot attend it P”
Above all, “Is it lawful to wear long hair?” Upon this
latter agitating theme, the excellent Mr. Stoddard has no
uncertainty. The thing “seems utterly unlawful. . . . It
is a great burden and cumber; it is effeminacy and a vast
expense, . . . a moral evil. . . . It was a part of the ca-
lamity that came upon Nebuchadnezzar that his hairs were
grown like eagles' feathers, and his nails like birds' claws.” "
But the ingenuity of Satan is tireless; and being routed in
the argument concerning long hair, he suggests to the de-
praved minds of men that, even if they must crop their
heads close, they may still cover them up with periwigs:
therefore, “Is it lawful to wear periwigs?” “I judge there
is abundance of sin in this country in wearing periwigs.
Particularly in these two things: First, when men do wear
them needlessly, in compliance with fashion. Their own
hair is sufficient for all those ends that God has given hair
for. One man's hair is comelier than another's. . . . Some
cut off their own because of the color—it is red or gray;
some because it is straight; and some only because it is
their own. Secondly, when those that may have just oc-
casion to wear them, do wear them in such a ruffianly way
as it would be utterly unlawful to wear their own hair in.
Some of them are of an unreasonable length ; and gener-
ally they are extravagant as to their bushiness. . . . The
practice seems to me to have these four evils in it: I. It
is an uncontentedness with that provision that God has
made for men. . . . When God has given to men such
hair as is suitable to answer the ends of hair, it seems to
be a despising of the goodness of God to cut it off, in com-
* “An Answer,” etc. 4-5.
BEM/AMIN COZMAAV. 171
pliance with a vain fashion. 2. It is wastefulness. .
3. It is pride. . . . 4. It is contrary to gravity. . . .
This practice makes them look as if they were more dis-
posed to court a maid than to bear upon their hearts the
weighty concernments of God's kingdom.” “There be
many other practices that are plainly contrary to the light
of nature. Hooped petticoats have something of naked-
ness; mixed dances are incentives to lust; compotations
in private houses is a drunken practice.””
VII.
For nearly the entire first half of the eighteenth cen-
tury, there was in Boston a minister of one of its churches,
Benjamin Colman, who, by an exquisite union of strength
and tenderness, the tact of the politician, the sincerity of
the saint, the magical and captivating might of the Orator,
held an unsurpassed ascendency over his contemporaries.
He was organized to be a conqueror of his kind, through
their brains and their hearts. In person above the com-
mon height, delicate in shape, of fair complexion, with the
dress and bearing of an accomplished gentleman, he had
a “peculiar flame and dignity in his eye; ” his presence
instantly unlocked all minds as by something benign,
graceful, and venerable. Some of his associates, who out-
lived him, and who wrote the introduction to his biog-
raphy that appeared two years after his death, say that
no written description can convey an idea of his personal
charm and power, either in private or in public. They
speak of his conversation as “admirably polished and
courtly ; ” of his incomparable eloquence in the pulpit; of
his earnestness and refinement; the inimitable power and
sweetness of his elocution; the ardor of his imagination;
the rapture of his impassioned and devout speech. As a
clergyman, there were utilities in his life that reached far
* “An Answer,” etc., 6–7. * Ibid. I5.
I72 - HISTORY OF AMERICAN ZZTERATURE.
beyond those usually exerted by those in his profession;
and in times of need, he was a pillar of state. Passing
his days in an atmosphere charged with theological sullen-
ness and acrimony, he was both orthodox and charitable;
his personal breadth burst the hoops of his creed; he was
human first, and clerical afterward.
His education was a wise and happy one—the education
of books and of life. He was born in Boston, in 1673;
was graduated at Harvard, in 1692; and after three years
of theological study, with some real work as a preacher,
he set out for Europe, intending to gain wisdom by look-
ing upon the wisdom of the world. It was a time of war
between England and France; and on the voyage, his
ship was captured by a French privateer, after a hard
battle, during which the pale young preacher fought
bravely on deck among the bravest. Being made a pris-
oner, he was clothed in rags, thrown into the hold among
the sailors, taken to France, and suffered there most bar-
barous treatment during a captivity of several weeks. At
last, he was exchanged ; he made his way to England,
where he remained four years. He was heartily welcomed
there by the most eminent of the dissenting clergymen;
went much into society; preached with great acceptance
at Cambridge, Bath, and elsewhere; and had many induce-
ments to remain permanently in the mother-country. He
was a particular favorite in the family of Sir Henry Ash-
urst, with whose daughter he appears to have conducted,
for a time, a gentle and clerical flirtation. This young
lady once desired him to write for her a poem ; and in re-
sponse to her commands, he produced some playful verses
called “A Quarrel with Fortune,” wherein, comparing her
to a taper and himself to a fly, he intimates his own peril
in fluttering so near a damsel of her exalted rank:
“So have I seen a little, silly fly,
Upon a blazing taper dart and die.
The foolish insect, ravished with so bright
And fair a glory, would devour the light.
BEM/AMIN COZMA.M. I73
At first, he wheels about the threatening fire,
With a career as fleet as his desire;
This ceremony past, he joins the same,
In hopes to be transformed, himself, to flame;
The fiery, circumambient sparkles glow,
And vainly warn him of his overthrow,
But resolute he'll to destruction go.
So, mean-born mortals, such as I, aspire,
And injure, with unhallowed desire,
The glory we ought only to admire.
We little think of the intense, fierce flame,
. That gold alone is proof against the same ;
And that such trash as we, like drossy lead,
Consume before it, and it strikes us dead.” "
Subsequently, in England, he became the victim of a
far deeper and more serious passion. During his residence
in Bath, he first met a beautiful and accomplished young
woman, Elizabeth Singer of Frome, who, under the pseu-
donym of “Philomela,” was just then beginning to attract
notice by her poems, and who afterward, rejecting the suit
of Matthew Prior, married one Thomas Rowe, and had a
somewhat distinguished career as a writer, both of prose
and of verse. Colman's acquaintance with this brilliant
woman soon became very intimate and interesting; had
he been willing to remain in England, it is said that he
could have married her; and the memory of the passionate
friendship thus formed with her, cast a tint of romance
over the remainder of his life, passed beyond the sea.
Long after his return to America, he continued his cor-
respondence with her; and even so late as 1708, her let-
ters to him manifest ardent emotion: she called him
her “guardian angel; ” said that only “the language of
heaven” could express “a friendship so noble” as theirs;
and assured him that, after death, her friendship for him
should “commence a more exalted ardor.””
Postponing, however, the consummation of this friend-
* E. Turell, Life of B. Colman, 24–25. * Ibid. 49.
I74 HISZory of AMERICAw Zzzzzazvºz.
ship to the leisure to be expected in paradise, Benjamin
Colman returned, in 1699, to the more urgent vocation
that awaited him in Boston, where he took charge of a
new church founded on a somewhat liberal platform; serv-
ing it with preeminent success as long as he lived, nearly
half a century; solacing himself, meantime, for the tempo-
rary loss of the Society of his English Philomela, by three
very excellent American wives.
During this long public career, his contributions to the
literature of his country were most abundant, and mainly
in the form of sermons. His style in these sermons
is fluent, polished, modern in tone, Addisonian, with a
rich and ample movement. He had formed his literary
manner by the study of English literature, and in his
sermons he often refers to the masters of English pulpit-
eloquence,—to Bishop Pearson, to John Howe, to “the
late excellent Archbishop Tillotson,” whom he calls “that
most reverend person, the greatest example of charity
and moderation that the age produced.” His discourses
abound in terse and felicitous terms. He speaks of “the
dreggy, cheap pleasures of sin;” he says that the worldling
acts as if he “esteemed himself only of the upper order of
brutes, to graze with and perish like them.” Describing
the power of religion to adorn the body: “I once saw a
poor old man in this country, who made no figure but for
his piety, who seemed, already on his death-bed, to have
changed his wrinkled face for Moses's shining one; and I
am sure, were the vainest persons by, in all their tawdry
ornaments of body as well as real beauty, they would have
looked but uncomely and deformed compared with this
venerable man.” Describing the spiritual warfare of the
Christian, he says: “Men must wrestle against the impor-
tunities of flesh and blood, and against the power and
policy of hell; against the cravings of a vitiated nature
fomented by the world and the devil.”
1 “Discourses upon the Parable of the Ten Virgins,” 57. *Ibid. 90–91.
JOHN BARAWARD. I75
There is a manly and sweet catholicity of tone in his
writings, a unique quality then: “It is indeed best to err
on the charitable side; and no temper is more hateful than
a censorious, jealous, judging one; suspecting everybody
of evil but ourselves and a few we are fond of ; confining
the Church of Christ to a narrow compass, and Salvation
to those only of our own persuasion. . . . There are some
practices and principles that look catholic, which, though
I cannot reason myself into, yet I bear a secret reverence
to in others, and dare not for the world speak a word
against. Their souls look enlarged to me; and mine does
so the more to myself, for not daring to judge them.”
VIII.
A man of heroic mould both in body and in mind—one
of the clerical Titans of our later colonial period—was
John Barnard, who, in the year 1770, at the age of eighty-
nine, died at Marblehead, after sixty-eight years of service
as a preacher in New England, after fifty-six years of ser-
vice as a preacher in that particular town. Tall, of grace-
ful proportions, erect even under the burden of nearly
ninety years, he had the imperial bearing of our elder New
England clergy, the stateliness of a king, touched by the
intellectuality of a scholar, and the tenderness of a saint.
“His countenancé was grand,” wrote his associate, William
Whitwell, “and his mien majestic; and there was a dignity
in his whole deportment. . . . His presence restrained
every imprudent sally of youth; and when the aged saw
him, they arose and stood up.”
After taking his first degree at Harvard College in 17OO,
he devoted himself, at his father's house in Boston, to a
wide range of studies in preparation for the Christian min-
* “Discourses upon the Parable of the Ten Virgins,” 56–57.
* Funeral Sermon by W. Whitwell, quoted in W. B. Sprague, “Annals of
Am. Pulpit,” I. 254.
176 AZSZTORY OF AMERACAAV ZATEAEA 7'ORAE.
istry; he began preaching, in 17OI ; he did some good ser-
vice for his country as a military chaplain, in 1707; he
paid a visit to England, in 1709, remaining there sixteen
months; and at last, in 1714, ripened by multifarious con-
tact with life and with books, he began his pastorate at
Marblehead; where he advanced year by year to a com-
manding reputation throughout the country. His great
trait was energy, physical and mental, impelling him to
the mastery of all human knowledge. He had the usual
Scholarly attainments in the ancient languages; he was
able to deal with the most subtile and rugged problems in
Biblical criticism and in divinity; all his life, he pursued
the study of the higher mathematics, for which he had
peculiar aptitude; he was an expert in the theory and
practice of music; he gave great attention to architec-
ture; and living in a town where the building and sailing
of ships were the principal employments of the people, he
astonished them by his knowledge of their own mysteries,
and was able to serve them by the execution of the most
artistic and improved models for ships.
His intellectual activity, shown in so many other direc-
tions, was shown also in authorship. He published, in
1752, a metrical version of the Psalms; he wrote, in 1768,
a sketch of the eminent ministers he had known in New
England; and besides numerous isolated sermons, he
issued, in 1727, a volume entitled “Sermons on Several
Subjects,” and in 1747, another volume entitled “The Im-
perfection of the Creature and the Excellency of the Di-
vine Commandment.”
The foremost impression now made upon one by these
writings, is that of the robustness, the intellectual virility,
of the man. He delights in hardy tasks of thought; he
has the habit of confronting real difficulties of the mind.
There is a mathematical thoroughness, a lawyer-like sense,
in his handling of sacred subjects; he grips them with the
clutch of conscious power. His great gift lies in his logic.
He excels in the argumentative presentation and defence
JONA THAAV EDWARDS. 177
of Christian doctrine. Yet, having first dealt with his topic
as a thing in debate, and having vindicated the reasonable-
ness of his cause, he casts off severity of style and often
becomes in expression ample, glowing, and affluent.
It marks the literary culture of the man, that in his
writings one sees traces of his familiarity not only with
Calvin and the great Puritan divines, but with the more
liberal writers of the Anglican church, such as Tillotson,
Stillingfleet, and More;’ and that he should even enforce
his statements by the authority of Epictetus.” Though
his style is by no means a rich or imaginative one, it is
never beggarly or harsh ; at times, it has a tone of deli-
cate grace, the artful force of amenity in phrase ; as, when
he speaks of one who “ hath made some progress in the
mysterious art, the divine lesson, of self-denial; * or when
he asks: “Is there anything more unbecoming a rational
creature than to be a slave to sense, or than for a heaven-
born soul to be the Devil's drudge P”* “A man may very
much stifle and suppress the remonstrances of his own
mind by the hurry and noise and diversions of the world;
but can he always command silence in his own breast, and
stop the just clamors of conscience against himself?”"
He has a felicity of urbane statement, sometimes even
a quiet sarcasm, which blend effectively with the vigor
of stern denunciation; but always this preacher is a gen-
tleman, even in his frankest professional arraignment of
sinners.
IX.
JONATHAN EDWARDS, the most original and acute
thinker yet produced in America, was born at East Wind-
sor, Connecticut, in 1703; was graduated at Yale College
in 1720; was a preacher in New York for about eight
months prior to April, 1723; was a tutor in Yale College
* “Sermons on Several Subjects,” II, 38, 40, 41, 42, 120. * Ibid. 91.
*Ibid. 90. ““The Imperfection of the Creature,” etc. 230. “Ibid. 23.I.
"VOL. II. -I2
178 AM/STORY OF AMAEAEACAA/ ZZ 7A2AA 7'OA’A.
from the summer of 1724 until the summer of 1726;
in 1727, became pastor of the church at Northampton,
and so continued until 1750; from 1751 until 1758, was
missionary to the Indians near Stockbridge; on the six-
teenth of February, 1758, was installed as president of the
College of New Jersey; and died a few weeks afterward,
namely, on the twenty-second of March.
Both by his father and by his mother, he came of the
gentlest and most intellectual stock in New England. In
early childhood, he began to manifest those powerful,
lofty, and beautiful endowments, of mind and of character,
that afterward distinguished him, spirituality, conscien-
tiousness, meekness, simplicity, disinterestedness, and a
marvellous capacity for the acquisition of knowledge and
for the prosecution of independent thought. It is, per-
haps, impossible to name any department of intellectual
exertion, in which, with suitable outward facilities, he might
not have achieved supreme distinction. Certainly, he did
enough to show that had he given himself to mathematics,
or to physical science, or to languages, or to literature—
especially the literature of imagination and of wit—he
would have become one of the world's masters. The
traditions of his family, the circumstances of his life, the
impulses derived from his education and from the models
of personal greatness before his eyes, all led him to give
himself to mental science and divinity; and in mental sci-
ence and divinity, his achievements will be remembered to
the end of time. - -
As a mere child, he read not only the ordinary writings
in Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, but the most abstruse and
subtile writings in English; and at the age of fourteen, be-
ing then a sophomore in Yale College, his eye, for the first
time, fell upon Locke’s “Essay on the Human Under-
standing,”—a book which made an era in the history of his
mind, and which he read, even at that youthful period,
with a delight greater, he tells us, “than the most greedy
miser finds when gathering up handfuls of silver and gold
JONA THAN EZ) WARDS. I79
from some newly discovered treasure.” Several years be-
fore that event, however, he had trained himself always
to read with pen in hand; that is, to be productive as well
as receptive in reading, and not only to think for himself
as he went along, but to put his thinking into exact lan-
guage. The result of such training as that upon such ge-
nius as his, was a precocity, both in original thought and
in the expression of it, that is perhaps not surpassed, if it
is equalled, in the case of any other intellectual prodigy.
Thus, when Jonathan Edwards was not more than
twelve years old, he heard that some one in the neighbor-
hood, probably an older boy, had advanced the opinion
that the soul is material and remains with the body till the
resurrection. Instead of debating the question in crude,
antagonistic fashion, our young metaphysician wrote to
his friend a playful letter, in which he ironically professes
to be on the point of adopting the new opinion, and hum-
bly submits for solution a few difficulties that still stood in
his way, but that really constituted a most ingenious and
effective exposure of the logical absurdities of the doctrine
proposed: “I am informed that you have advanced a no-
tion that the soul is material, and attends the body till
the resurrection. As I am a professed lover of novelty,
you must imagine I am very much entertained by this dis-
covery; which, however old in some parts of the world, is
new to us. But suffer my curiosity a little further. I
would know the manner of the kingdom before I swear
allegiance. First, I would know whether this material soul
keeps with [the body] in the coffin ; and if so, whether it
might not be convenient to build a repository for it. In
order to which, I would know what shape it is of, whether
round, triangular, or four-square, or whether it is a number
of long fine strings reaching from the head to the foot; and
whether it does not live a very discontented life. I am
afraid when the coffin gives way, the earth will fall in and
Works of J. Edwards, I. 30.
I8O HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE.
crush it. But if it should choose to live above ground, and
hover about the grave, how big it is; whether it covers all
the body, or is assigned to the head, or breast, or how. If
it covers all the body, what it does when another body is
laid upon it; whether the first gives way, and, if so, where
is the place of retreat. But suppose that souls are not so
big but that ten or a dozen of them may be about one
body, whether they will not quarrel for the highest place;
and as I insist much upon my honor and property, I would
know whether I must quit my dear head, if a superior soul
comes in the way. But, above all, I am concerned to
know what they do where a burying place has been filled
twenty, thirty, or an hundredtimes. If they are a top of
one another, the uppermost will be so far off that it can
take no care of the body. I strongly suspect they must
march off every time there comes a new set. I hope there
is some other place provided for them but dust. The under-
going so much hardship and being deprived of the body at
last, will make them ill-tempered. I leave it with your
physical genius to determine whether some medicinal ap-
plications might not be proper in such cases; and sub-
scribe your proselyte—when I can have solution of these
matters.””
This discussion by two New England boys, of a profound
and complex problem in psychology, is interesting as an
illustration of the educational effects wrought on the peo-
ple of New England, by their rugged theological drill.
They had become a population of acute philosophers.
Even their children, it seems, were ready to interrupt the
delights of playing at tag or of capturing woodchucks, in
order to exchange arguments over the question of the
materiality of the human soul. We see, also, in the pres-
ent example, some of the chief peculiarities of the mind of
Jonathan Edwards,-his keenness in analysis, his faculty
of seeing the logical absurdities involved in a false propo-
* Works of J. Edwards, I. 20–21.
JONA THAN EDWARDS. I8I
sition, his power of setting forth these absurdities in a way
at once fair and irresistible, his gift of raillery, his freedom
from arrogance of tone, his use of the Socratic strategy of
a deferential manner in debate.
While still an under-graduate, and therefore before his
eighteenth year, he began to put into precise shape, in his
note-book, the conclusions he had come to on leading
topics in mental philosophy, -such as cause, existence,
space, substance, matter, thought, motion, union of mind
with body, consciousness, memory, personal identity, dura-
tion, and so forth. In one of these notes, on “The Place
of Minds,” he comes back to that sharp study of the nature
and physical relations of the spirit that had employed his
mind some years before: “Our common way of conceiv-
ing of what is spiritual, is very gross, and shadowy, and
corporeal, with dimensions, and figure, and so forth. If
we would get a right notion of what is spiritual, we must
think of thought, or inclination, or delight. How large is
that thing in the mind which they call thought? Is love
square, or round 2 Is the surface of hatred rough, or
smooth 2 Is joy an inch, or a foot, in diameter P These
are spiritual things; and why should we then form such
a ridiculous idea of spirits, as to think them so long, so
thick, or so wide, or to think there is a necessity of their
being square, or round, or some other certain figure?”"
In another of these juvenile notes, he thus discusses
“Nothing”: “That there should absolutely be Nothing at
all, is utterly impossible. The mind, let it stretch its con-
ceptions ever so far, can never so much as bring itself to
conceive of a state of perfect Nothing. It puts the mind
into mere convulsion and confusion, to think of such a
state; and it contradicts the very nature of the soul, to
think that such a state should be. It is the greatest of
contradictions, and the aggregate of all contradictions, to
say that Thing should not be. It is true, we cannot so
| Works of J. Edwards, I. 678.
I82 A/STORY OF AMER/CAAW ZZTERA TURAE.
t
Ae
distinctly show the contradiction in words; because we
cannot talk about it, without speaking stark nonsense,
and contradicting ourselves at every word; and because
Nothing is that whereby we distinctly show other particu-
lar contradictions. . . . If any man thinks that he can
conceive well enough how there should be Nothing, I will
engage that what he means by Nothing, is as much Some-
thing, as anything that he ever thought of in his life; and
I believe that if he knew what Nothing was, it would be
intuitively evident to him that it could not be. . . . Abso-
lute Nothing is the aggregate of all the contradictions in
the world: a state, wherein there is neither body, nor
spirit, nor space, neither empty space nor full space, neither
little nor great, narrow nor broad, neither infinite space
nor finite space, not even a mathematical point, neither
up nor down, neither north nor south. . . . When we go
about to form an idea of perfect Nothing, we must shut
out all these things; . . . nor must we suffer our thoughts
to take sanctuary in a mathematical point. When we go
to expel being out of our thoughts, we must be careful
not to leave empty space in the room of it; and when we
go to expel emptiness from our thoughts, we must not
think to squeeze it out by anything close, hard, and solid;
but we must think of the same that the sleeping rocks do
dream of; and not till then, shall we get a complete idea
of Nothing.”"
It is in these wonderful memoranda, penned by this lad
of sixteen or seventeen, that we find his first avowal of
that philosophy of Idealism, with which the name of Berke-
ley has since been associated. At the end of an argument
respecting “Being,” Jonathan Edwards says: “What,
then, is to become of the universe? Certainly, it exists
nowhere but in the Divine mind. . . . Those beings which
have knowledge and consciousness are the only proper,
and real, and substantial beings; inasmuch as the being of
**Works of J. Edwards, I. 706–707.
JONA 7'HAM ED WARDS. 183
other things is only by these. From hence we may see
the gross mistake of those who think material things the
most substantial beings, and spirits more like a shadow;
whereas spirits only are properly substance.” In another
note, he says: “The material universe exists only in the
mind. . . . All material existence is only idea.””
The precocity of Jonathan Edwards in physical science,
appears to have been not less wonderful than was his
precocity in metaphysical science. His father had a cor-
respondent, probably in England, who was much inter-
ested in natural history; and for this gentleman, Jonathan
Edwards, when twelve years of age or perhaps younger,
wrote an elaborate paper, giving with great exactness of
statement, and with great force of reasoning, the results of
his own observations upon spiders. “May it please your
Honor,” writes this modest and marvellous boy, “There
* Works of J. Edwards, I. 708.
*Ibid. I. 676. Some of the sentences that I have quoted to illustrate
Edwards's early avowal of Idealism, are also quoted by Professor A. C.
Fraser (Works of Berkeley, IV. I82), to illustrate his statement that “Jona-
than Edwards, the most subtle reasoner that America has produced,” was
“an able defender of Berkeley's great philosophical conception in its ap-
plication to the material world.” On another page (ibid. I90), Professor
Fraser adds, that Berkeley’s “direct influence is now, however, hardly to be
found in the history of American thought, though his philosophy was pro-
fessed by two of the greatest American thinkers, Samuel Johnson and Jona-
than Edwards.” It is certain that Johnson derived his Idealism from Berke-
ley, and in consequence of Berkeley's visit to America; and the impression
likely to be made by Professor Fraser's words, is that the same was the case
with Edwards. But this is by no means certain. The above sentences ſrom
Edwards, avowing Idealism, were written nine or ten years before Berkeley
came to America. Moreover, Edwards was not the man to conceal his intel-
lectual obligations; and the name of Berkeley nowhere occurs, so far as I can
discover, in all the ten volumes of Edwards's printed writings. It seems more
probable that the peculiar opinions which Edwards held in common with
Berkeley, were reached by him through an independent process of reasoning
and somewhat in the same way that they were reached by Berkeley, who, as
Professor Fraser says (ibid. 35), “proceeded in his intellectual work on the
basis of postulates which he partly borrowed from Locke, and partly assumed
in antagonism to him.” -
184 AISTORY OF AMERICAN L/7′ERA 7'0RE.
are some things that I have happily seen of the wondrous
way of the working of the spider. Although everything
belonging to this insect is admirable, there are some phe-
nomena relating to them more particularly wonderful.
Everybody that is used to the country, knows their
marching in the air from one tree to another, sometimes
at the distance of five or six rods. Nor can one go out in
a dewy morning, at the latter end of August and the
beginning of September, but he shall see multitudes of
webs, made visible by the dew that hangs on them, reach-
ing from one tree, branch, and shrub to another. . . . But
these webs may be seen well enough in the daytime
by an observing eye, by their reflection in the sunbeams.
Especially, late in the afternoon may these webs that
are between the eye and that part of the horizon that
is under the Sun, be seen very plainly, being advantage-
ously posited to reflect the rays. And the spiders them-
selves may be very often seen travelling in the air, from
one stage to another amongst the trees, in a very unac-
countable manner. But I have often seen that which is
much more astonishing. In very calm and serene days in
the forementioned time of year, standing at some distance
behind the end of an house or some other opaque body,
So as just to hide the disk of the sun and keep off his daz-
zling rays, and looking along close by the side of it, I
have seen a vast multitude of little shining webs, and
glistening strings, brightly reflecting the Sunbeams, and
some of them of great length, and of such a height that
one would think they were tacked to the vault of the
heavens, and would be burnt like tow in the sun. . . .
But that which is most astonishing is, that very often
appears at the end of these webs, spiders sailing in the air
with them. . . . And since I have seen these things, I
have been very conversant with spiders, resolving if pos-
sible to find out the mysteries of these their astonishing
works. And I have been so happy as very frequently to
see their manner of working; that when a spider would
JONA THAN EDWARDS. 185
go from one tree to another, or would fly in the air, he
first lets himself down a little way from the twig he stands
on by a web; . . . and then laying hold of it by his fore-
feet, and bearing himself by that, puts out a web .
which is drawn out of his tail with infinite ease, in the
gently moving air, to what length the spider pleases; and
if the farther end happens to catch by a shrub or the
branch of a tree, the spider immediately feels it, and fixes
the hither end of it to the web by which he lets himself
down, and goes over by that web which he put out of his
tail.” He then describes minutely how the spider moves
from tree to tree; and how, in the fall of the year, they
sustain themselves in the air and are carried upon the
westerly winds to the sea, and are “buried in the ocean,
and leave nothing behind them but their eggs for a new
stock next year.” " - {
The interest of Jonathan Edwards in physical science
did not pass away with his childhood; and while a student
at Yale College, and especially while a tutor there, he pros-
ecuted his physical researches with great diligence. He
even wrote a series of notes on natural science, intended as
the basis of a book. In these notes, he dealt with the prin-
cipal topics in physics and astronomy, many of his remarks
being very acute, ingenious, and original. He suggested
that “there is in the atmosphere some other ethereal
matter considerably rarer than atmospheric air; ” that
water is a compressible fluid—a fact not publicly announced
by scientific men until thirty years afterward; that water
in freezing loses its specific gravity; and that “the exist-
* Works of J. Edwards, I. 23–28. The manuscripts from which these ex-
traordinary specimens of juvenile thought and expression are printed, were in
the possession of Sereno E. Dwight, when editing the works of Edwards;
and are described by him as in “handwriting of the earliest and most
unformed cast; ” the essay relative to the materiality of the soul being
“without pointing or any division into sentences,” and having “every ap-
pearance of having been written by a boy just after he had learned to write.”
Ibid. 20. -
I86 Aſ/STORY OF AMERACAAW ZZZTEAEA 7'07/8A2.
ence of frigorific particles” is doubtful. In explaining the
phenomena of thunder and lightning, without any knowl-
edge of the electric fluid, and long before the invention of
the Leyden jar, he rejected the notions then prevalent upon
the subject, and came nearer to the theory afterward dis-
covered by Franklin than any other human mind had then
done. He made important suggestions relative to a theory
of atoms; he demonstrated that the fixed stars are suns;
he explained the formation of river-channels, the different
refrangibility of the rays of light, the growth of trees, the
process of evaporation, and the philosophy of the lever;
and he made important observations on sound, on elec-
tricity, on the tendency of winds from the coast to bring
rain, and on the cause of colors."
The intense intellectual discipline to which, almost from
infancy, this wonderful person subjected himself, was ac-
companied by a moral and spiritual discipline, begun as
early in life, and in its rigor equally intense. In the “reso-
lutions” that he wrote out for himself while a very young
man, one now finds, amid many tokens of the gratuitous
and puerile severity of his age and his sect, the traits of a
personal character full of all nobility: “To live with all
my might while I do live; ” “When I feel pain, to think
of the pains of martyrdom and of hell; ” “Never to do
anything out of revenge; ” “In narrations, never to speak
anything but the pure and simple verity;” “Never to
give over nor in the least to slacken my fight with my
corruptions, however unsuccessful I may be.” ” On the
twenty-third of September, 1723, he wrote: “I observe
that old men seldom have any advantage of new dis-
coveries, because they are beside the way of thinking to
which they have been so long used. Resolved, if ever I
live to years, that I will be impartial to hear the reasons
of all pretended discoveries, and receive them if rational,
how long soever I have been used to another way of think-
* Works of J. Edwards, I. 53–54; 702–761. ? Ibid. 68–72.
JONA THAN EDWARDS. 187
ing.” About one month afterward, he wrote: “To fol-
low the example of Mr. B., who, though he meets with
great difficulties, yet undertakes them with a smiling coun-
tenance, as though he thought them but little ; and speaks
of them, as if they were very small.” ” On the sixth of
June, 1724, while a tutor at Yale, he wrote: “I have now
abundant reason to be convinced of the troublesomeness
and vexation of the world, and that it never will be an-
other kind of world,” “–an observation confirmed, doubt-
less, by the experience of many another Yale tutor, since
that date. -
Such, in intellectual attainments and in spiritual quality,
was Jonathan Edwards, when, at the age of twenty-four,
he entered upon his work as minister of a parish on the
frontiers of civilization. The remainder of his life was
what he expected it to be, an experience of labor and of
sorrow ; but always borne by him with meek and cheerful
submission. He had ill health, domestic griefs, public
misrepresentation, alienation of friends, persecution, even
poverty. In 1751, he was so poor that his daughters had
... to earn money for household expenses by making fans,
laces, and embroidery; and he himself, for lack of paper,
had to do his writing, mostly on the margins of pam-
phlets, on the covers of letters, and on the remnants that
his daughters could spare him from the silk-paper used by
them in the manufacture of fans.
Nevertheless, through it all, he bated not a jot of heart
or hope, but still bore up and steered right onward. His
chief business was in his study; and there he usually
worked thirteen hours a day. Even out of the study,
his mind was not at rest ; when, for exercise, he rode on
horseback, or walked in the woods, he kept on at his
tasks of thought ; in order that he might not forget any-
thing that he had wrought out in these excursions, he
was accustomed to pin a bit of paper upon his coat, for
* Works of J. Edwards, I. 94. * Ibid. Ioo. * Ibid. IO3.
I88 A/STORY OF AMERICAAV ZAZTERA 7'U.R.E.
every idea that was to be jotted down on his return; and
it was noticed that, sometimes, he would come home with
his coat covered over with these fluttering memorials of
his intellectual activity. -
The problems upon which his mind was constantly at
work, were the great problems of theology, =especially
those in immediate debate, at that time, in New England.
Of course, he held the theology that was then and there
Orthodox,−that ganglion of heroic, acute, and appalling
dogmas commonly named after John Calvin. To the de-
fence of that theology, in all its rigors, in all its horrors,
Jonathan Edwards brought his unsurpassed abilities as a
dialectician. -
We need not discredit the traditions that have come
down to us, of the agonizing effects produced upon men
and women, by such an advocate as he, giving statement
to such doctrines as those. He was not an orator. In the
pulpit, he generally held his little “manuscript volume
in his left hand, the elbow resting on the cushion or the
Bible, his right hand rarely raised but to turn the leaves,
and his person almost motionless.” Yet such was the
power of his sincerity, of his solemnity, and of his logic,
that he wrought results not surpassed in their kind even by
the oratory of Whitefield. His first sermon at Princeton,
in the College Hall, was two hours long; but it so en-
chained the audience that they were astonished and dis-
appointed that it closed so soon. One person, who heard
him preach concerning the Day of Judgment, testified
that “so vivid and solemn was the impression made on
his own mind, that he fully supposed that, as soon as
Mr. Edwards should close his discourse, the Judge would
descend, and the final separation take place.” Once, at
Enfield, Connecticut, he came into an assemblage that
was unusually listless and indifferent; but before his ser-
mon was ended, the people were bowed down in agony
1 S. E. Dwight, Works of J. Edwards, I. 605–606. * Ibid. 604.
JONA THAM EDWARDS. - I 89
and terror. “There was such a breathing of distress and
weeping, that the preacher was obliged to speak to the
people, and desire silence that he might be heard.”"
The sermon through which he so moved the people of
Enfield, had this terrifying title, “Sinners in the Hands of
an Angry God; ” and an analysis of his method in that
discourse, will serve to show us enough of his method in
all his discourses. It is upon the text, “Their feet shall
slide in due time.” After a concise and solemn exposition
of the original use of the words, he deduces from them
this proposition: “There is nothing that keeps wicked
men, at any one moment, out of hell, but the mere pleas-
ure of God.” He then proceeds to justify the proposition
by a series of ten considerations, each stated with great
sharpness and force, and all accumulating upon this cen-
tral thought an indescribable emphasis: I. There is no
want of power in God to cast wicked men into hell at any
moment. 2. They deserve to be cast into hell. 3. They
are already under a sentence of condemnation. 4. They
are now the objects of that very same anger and wrath of
God, that is expressed in the torments of hell. 5. The
Devil stands ready to fall upon them and seize them as
his own, at what moment God shall permit him. 6. There
are in the souls of wicked men those hellish principles
reigning, that would presently kindle and flame out into
hell-fire, if it were not for God's restraints. 7. It is no
security to wicked men, for one moment, that there are no
visible means of death at hand. 8. Natural men's care to
preserve their own lives, or the care of others to preserve
them, does not secure them a moment. 9. All wicked
men's pains and contrivance to escape hell, while they
continue to reject Christ, do not secure them from hell one
moment. IO. God has laid himself under no obligation,
by any promise; to keep any natural man out of hell one
moment.”
* Works of J. Edwards, I. 605. 2 Ibid. VII. I63–168.
I90 A/S 7'ORY OF AMER/CAAV ZAZTERA 7TURAE.
These several considerations follow, one after another,
with dreadful swiftness and force, each hurled by calm,
merciless logic, and by an overwhelming intensity of real-
ism. He then reaches the application, where the urgency
of reasoning, of menace, of consternation, becomes intol-
erable. No wonder that human nature gave way under it;
that men and women sighed and sobbed, as the ghastly
preacher, himself trembling at his own argument, went on
and on with the horrible thing: “If God should let you
go, you would immediately sink, and sinfully descend, and
plunge into the bottomless gulf. . . . Were it not for the
sovereign pleasure of God, the earth would not bear you
one moment ; for you are a burden to it; the creation
groans with you ; the creature is made subject to the bond-
age of your corruption not willingly; the sun does not
willingly shine upon you to give you light, to serve sin
and Satan; the earth does not willingly yield her increase
to satisfy your lusts; nor is it willingly a stage for your
wickedness to be acted upon ; the air does not willingly
serve you for breath to maintain the flame of life in your
vitals, while you spend your life in the service of God's
enemies. . . . And the world would spew you out, were it
not for the sovereign hand of him who hath subjected it in
hope.” "
His power over the people whom he addressed, consisted
partly in his minuteness of imaginative detail, bringing
forward each element in the case one by one ; SO that
drop after drop of the molten metal, of the scalding oil,
fell steadily upon the same spot, till the victim cried out
in shrieks and ululations of agony: “The bow of God's
wrath is bent, and the arrow made ready on the string,
and justice bends the arrow at your heart, and strains the
bow, and it is nothing but the mere pleasure of God, and
that of an angry God, without any promise or obligation
at all, that keeps the arrow one moment from being drunk
Works of J. Edwards, VII. 169.
JO.VATHAN EAE WARDS. I9I
with your blood.” “The God that holds you over the pit
of hell, much as one holds a spider or some loathsome
insect over the fire, abhors you, and is dreadfully provoked;
. . . he looks upon you as worthy of nothing else but to
be cast into the fire. . . . You are ten thousand times
more abominable in his eyes, than the most hateful, ven-
omous serpent is in ours.” “You hang by a slender thread,
with the flames of divine wrath flashing about it, and
ready every moment to singe it and burn it asunder.””
“If you cry to God to pity you, he will be so far from
pitying you in your doleful case, or showing you the least
regard or favor, that instead of that, he will only tread
you under foot. And though he will know that you can-
not bear the weight of omnipotence treading upon you,
yet he will not regard that ; but he will crush you under
his feet without mercy; he will crush out your blood, and
make it fly, and it shall be sprinkled on his garments, so
as to stain all his raiment. He will not only hate you, but
he will have you in the utmost contempt; no place shall
be thought fit for you, but under his feet to be trodden
down as the mire of the streets.” +
In the latter part of his life, Jonathan Edwards chanced
to open and to read so frivolous a book as a novel—“Sir
Charles Grandison.” The delight that he found in that
work, led him to analyze the sources of his pleasure, and
especially to consider the power of mere style in the ex-
pression of thought; and to say to his son that he regret-
ted his own neglect of it. As a theologian, as a metaphy-
sician, as the author of “The Inquiry into the Freedom of
the Will,” as the mighty defender of Calvinism, as the
inspirer and the logical drill-master of innumerable minds
in his own country, and in Great Britain, he, of course, fills
a large place in ecclesiastical and philosophical history.
But even from the literary point of view, and in spite of
his own low estimate of his literary merits, he deserves
* Works of J. Edwards, VII. 170. * Ibid. I70.
8 Ibid. I71, - * Ibid. I73.
192 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERA 7'0RE.
high rank. He had the fundamental virtues of a writer,
—-abundant thought, and the utmost precision, clearness,
and simplicity in the utterance of it; his pages, likewise,
hold many examples of bold, original, and poetic imagery;
and though the nature of his subjects, and the temper of
his sect, repressed the exercise of wit, he was possessed of
wit in an extraordinary degree, and of the keenest edge.
In early life, he was sadly afflicted by the burden of check-
ing the movements of this terrible faculty; but later, it
often served him in controversy, not as a substitute for ar-
gument, but as its servant; enabling him, especially in the
climaxes of a discussion, to make palpable the absurdity of
propositions that he had already shown to be untenable."
X.
In the year 1776, shortly after the evacuation of Boston
by the British troops, a somewhat dramatic scene was pre-
sented one day, in one of the churches of that city, known
as the Hollis Street Church. Its patriotic members, hav-
ing returned from the outlying villages to which they had
fled the year before, had determined to come to stern
issues with their pastor, the Reverend Mather Byles, a
distinguished and powerful divine, but an incorrigible
Tory, then just seventy years old. All along, from the
opening of the controversy between the colonies and
the king, he had taken sides with the king against the
colonies. Although in the pulpit he never, in those days,
referred to politics, out of the pulpit he referred to little
else; and he made unsparing use of his acuteness and of
his sarcastic wit, to baffle and scourge the political designs
of his own people. During the occupation of the city by
the king's soldiers, he had remained there, and had given
them his aid and comfort; and he still affronted his con-
gregation by praying, in their presence, for the prosperity
of the monarch whose troops had desolated the town, had
1 A notable instance of his wit in logical ridicule, is his exposure of the
absurdity of Chubb's notion of “an act.” Works of J. Edwards, II. 199-200.
MA THEA’ B YZFS, I93 .
slaughtered their brethren, and were preparing to enslave
the whole country. For forty-three years, Mather Byles
had ministered to that one church, faithfully, ably, with
great renown ;" yet they could endure his political perver-
sity no longer. Resting their public accusations against
him, however, on his faults as a pastor, and not on his
faults as a patriot, they drew up their charges in writing,
and notified him of their wish for a public interview upon
the subject. On the day appointed, the male members of
the congregation, with grim resolution, yet with no little
dread of the awful eye and the no less awful tongue of the
great man who had been their spiritual lord so long, as-
sembled early at the church. The pews had been removed
by the troops from the floor of the house; and perhaps
with a mute sense of greater safety in the approaching
interview, the men took their seats in one of the lofty gal-
leries, and there awaited in silence the arrival of the mighty
person, whose wrath they were about to invoke upon them-
selves. “In due time,” says the son” of one who witnessed
the scene, “the door opened slowly, and Dr. Byles entered
the house with an imposing solemnity of manner. He
was dressed in his ample, flowing robes and bands, un-
der a full bush-wig that had been recently powdered, sur-
mounted by a large three-cornered hat. He walked from
the door to the pulpit with a long and measured tread,
ascended the stairs, hung his hat upon the peg, and seated
himself. After a few moments, he turned with a porten-
tous air toward the gallery, where his accusers sat, and
said, “If ye have aught to communicate, say on.’” Upon
this, one of the deacons, a very little man with a very lit-
tle voice, stood up and began to read: “The church of
Christ in Hollis Street”—“Louder l’ roared the frown-
ing orator, with awful, leonine voice. The puny deacon
| He was born in Boston in 1706, graduated at Harvard in 1725, ordained
pastor of Hollis Street church in 1733.
* Samuel J. May, of Syracuse, in W. B. Sprague, “Annals of Am. Pulpit,”
I. 38o-381.
VOL. II.-13
I94 AZS 7"O/º V OF AMER/CAAV ZAZTAEAEA 7'OA-A2.
began again, and with still greater effort of articulate
Squeak: “The church of Christ in Hollis Street”
“Louder l’’ once more shouted the preacher, with terrible
emphasis. The miserable little man, now trembling with
fright as well as with great stress of vocal impotence, be-
gan once more, and was permitted to proceed through
three or four of the specifications, when the insulted pastor
arose, indignation darkening all his face and giving dread-
ful resonance to his voice, and thundered out, “'Tis false;
'tis false; 'tis false; and the church of Christ in Hollis
Street knows that 'tis false.” Upon this, he took down his
hat, put it upon his head, and descending the pulpit, as an
angry monarch would his throne, he stalked proudly out
of the church, never to enter it again; leaving to the little
deacon and his brethren, the contemptuous privilege of
making the most of their specifications against him.
Thus, in great bitterness of popular aversion, ended the
public career of a man, who, until his loyalty to his king
made him disloyal to his country, had held a very high
place in the admiration of his contemporaries. To them
he had seemed a man of extraordinary brilliance, in many
different characters, wit, poet, man of letters, theologian,
pulpit-orator; but it was as pulpit-orator only that he was
really great, to the service of that single character sub-
ordinating whatever gifts he possessed for all the others.
The traditions of his wit have, since then, choked out
nearly all memory of the central gravity and strength of
his character; and he stands in our history merely as a
Tory punster and a clerical buffoon. His jocoseness, after
all, was not the principal part of him. He jested much ;
and yet he was much more than a jester; he was an ear-
nest and devout Christian minister."
His great strength was in the pulpit. He was perhaps
1 A collection of the jests of Mather Byles may be made from the follow-
ing sources: William Tudor, “Life of James Otis,” 156–160; “The Bel-
knap Papers,” in 5 Mass. Hist. Soc. Coll. II. 285, 471 ; III. 51, 234; W. B.
Sprague, “Annals of Am. Pulpit,” I. 377, 378, 382.
~
MA 7TP/AEA? BYZ.Z.S. I95
as great a master of the amenities and the potencies of
pious persuasion as New England had in its colonial age,
after the days of Hooker, Shepard, John Cotton, and Urian
Oakes. His presence was stately and commanding; he was
at once aristocrat and apostle; in dress and manner, one of
the first gentlemen of his time. Very early in life, he had
shown a propensity to purely literary work; he was in
correspondence with some of the chiefs of literature in
England; Pope sent to him a splendid copy of his trans-
lation of the Odyssey. His own literary facility was nota-
ble: he had poetic sensitiveness, an ear for the strokes
and cadences of the Popean verse; no inconsiderable fa-
cility in the manufacture of that verse; all of which,
without making him more than a minor poet, gave him
uncommon skill in the modulation of his prose sentences
for oratory. His sermons are invariably marked by neat-
ness of phrase, and expertness in the manipulation of his
materials; by fresh and striking views of things, by the
avoidance of uncomfortable length, by courtesy of tone,
by common sense. He had paid much attention to the
aesthetics of his profession. Histown idea of “a finished
minister’’ included all the accomplishments, both of so-
ciety and of books. The preacher, he said, should be a
person of “graceful deportment, elegant address, and
fluent utterance. He must study an easy style, expressive
diction, and tuneful cadences. . . . Nothing can be more
finished oratory than many of Paul's sermons. . . . Rat-
tling periods, uncouth jargon, affected phrases, and finical
jingles—let them be condemned; let them be hissed from
the desk and blotted from the page.”" The old Puritan
traditions of the enormous studiousness of the preacher,
were sanctioned by this preacher—at least in the imparta-
tion of advice to others: “ The study of the minister is
the field of battle. Here he plays the hero, tries the dan-
gers of war, and repeats the toils of combat. . . . How
* Sermon at the ordination of his son, New London, 1758, II—I2.
196 AISTORY OF AMER/CAM Z/7′ERA 7TURE.
often must he watch when others sleep; and his solitary
candle burn when the midnight darkness covers the win-
dows of the neighborhood.”" He deemed it worth his
while, also, to accentuate the rather obvious ethical re-
quirements of the sacred calling: “What an inconsistent
thing is a wicked minister | An unholy divine; a blind
watchman ; a wolfish shepherd; an ignorant angel;-what
nonsense is this! An ungodly man of God—what a sole-
cism what a monster l’”
The distinctive gift of Mather Byles was homiletical;
he originated no ideas, he constructed no new arrangement
of ideas; his function lay in the strength, warmth, and
vivacity with which he grasped for himself the great fa-
miliar propositions in faith and conduct, and then, for
others, held them forth in a succession of splendid and
powerful pictures that inevitably drew the eyes of men,
and stirred their hearts into fellowship of fervor. He
Smote men with the sword of their own accepted ideas;
into speech he put without reserve his imagination and his
emotion ; he loved those generic and universal topics—
ancient but never old—which exercised his own uncom-
mon faculty of sublime and tender description: the impo-
tence of man, the insignificance of this world, the grandeur
of the eternal state, the dissonance and emptiness that are
in all things whatsoever save virtue and truth and God.
Repeating that melancholy, tired text, the very hyperbole
and half-truth of mortal weariness and pain,_* Verily
every man at his best estate is altogether vanity,” the
preacher, in one sermon,” interprets it in dramatic collo-
quy with an imaginary disputant, and charges each word
of his text with an explicit burden of gloom. At an-
other time, he draws this picture of the physical future of
his hearers: “In a few years the most beauteous and
learned and pious head will grin a hideous skull. Our
* Sermon at the ordination of his son, New London, 1758, 14.
* Ibid. 8. * Funeral Sermon on Wm. Dummer, 3–4.
AMA 7THER BYLES. I97
broken coffins will show nothing but black bones, or black
mould, and worms, and filth.” “ He pours scorn on the
emptiness of all human pretension : “A creature droop-
ing to dust, and falling into a filthy grave, to set up for
strength and beauty, honor and applause ! Was ever any-
thing more absurd and ridiculous? So might an emmet
crawl in state, and value itself upon its imaginary posses-
sions, and conceited accomplishments. So might a shadow,
lengthened by the setting sun, admire to find itself grown
so tall, while in the same moment it was going to vanish,
blended in the gathering twilight, and lost in night and
darkness.””
The Bible is the storehouse for this preacher's themes,
and for much of his imagery; and his gift of description,
as it exercises itself on man's pettiness, so is it put forth
for the display of God's greatness. Taking up one of the
Scriptural titles of God, “the Lord of hosts,” the orator
proceeds to this amplification of it: “This is one of the
magnificent and favorite titles which he wears; and it is
about two hundred times applied to him in the inspired
writings. The Lord of hosts, he is the King of glory: the
Lord of hosts is his name. Take a view of his extended
and potent armies, and see him in his glory at the head of
all. The heavenly hosts are his. So are the angels in all
their shining forms and unnumbered regiments. An im-
measurable front, and an endless rear ! No army of so
exact discipline, such invincible courage and fatal execu-
tion. Our painted troops are a mere mock-show, to these
resistless legions. Our chariots and horses make no figure
at all before these chariots of fire and horses of fire. The
chariots of God are twenty thousand thousands of angels;
and he maketh his angels spirits and his ministers a flame
of fire. A whole host of our mortal warriors shall wither
in a night before one of them, and strew the pale camp
with an hundred and four score and five thousand corpses.
! “The Present Vileness of the Body,” 9.
* Funeral Sermon on Wm. Dummer, 20–21.
I98 AZSZTORY OA' A MAEAEACAAV ZAZTEACA 7'OA’A.
Beneath these, the stars keep their military watch, the out-
guards of the celestial army. And what a glittering host
of them range themselves over the blue plains of ether!
. These in all their immense dominions are under his
absolute command. . . . How mysterious and unknown
are the laws of those unnumbered squadrons; and how
irresistible their movements! Canst thou bind the sweet
influences of Pleiades, or loose the bands of Orion ? Canst
thou bring forth Mazzaroth in his season, or canst thou
guide Arcturus with his sons? But he, the great mon-
arch of all, commands with infinite ease; and every roll-
ing world submits with exact obedience. . . . Below these,
and sailing along our atmosphere, the clouds make their
majestic appearance, a flying camp, or a moving magazine
of divine artillery. . . . There the northern tempests plant
their impetuous batteries; there the fierce engines of the
sky play in various forms of destruction. He is alike the
Lord of the terrestrial hosts, while every species of crea-
ture and every individual are under his exact command.
But who can call over the list of these extended cohorts?
Is there any number of his armies? The earth is full
of his legions; so also is the great and wide sea, with all
the tribes and colonies there. . . . And where's the crea-
ture which he cannot commission, or that dares to mutiny
against his sovereign edicts? . . . Behold what a Lord of
hosts is here! Even the wind and the seas obey him
He rules
amidst the war of elements,
The wrecks of matter, and the crush of worlds.”
Even the devils are subject to him. . . . He is the Lord of
our hosts; and not an army gathers in this earth without
his counsels and providence. . . . He unfurls his ensigns,
and calls for the march of nations in universal tumult, and
ranges half the globe on a side, confederated to a decisive
battle.”” -
* Artillery-sermon for I740, 9–I4.
CHAAC/CAES CAA UAVCE Y. - I99
XI.
On the border-line, between the colonial age and the age
of the Revolution, we confront two great men, Jonathan
Mayhew and Charles Chauncey, who belong to both ages,
and who represent, not only the vast political influence
of the New England clergy in the agitations of those
times, but the broadest intellectual training, the most ra-
tional and the most catholic sentiment, then reached by
any of their class. These two men we shall meet again,
and study more fully, when we come to the literature
of the Revolution; but our record of the high and splen-
did intellectual development of the clergy of New Eng-
land, during the colonial time, would lack some essential
factors, if we did not at least point to their names and
to the significance of their lives, even in the period now
under view.
Jonathan Mayhew, the younger of the two, who also
died first, was for the last nineteen years of his short life,
minister of a church in Boston. He was, in the pulpit,
a sort of tribune of the people. He impressed himself
upon his contemporaries as a thinker of much originality
and boldness, as a preacher of extraordinary power, as a
writer of great elegance, force, and wit. In the history of
his time, he stands for two things: first, the impulse he
gave to bold and manly political conduct among his fel-
low-countrymen; and second, the impulse he gave to the
emancipation of their minds from the despotism of the old
theological dogmas. John Adams, who knew him well,
predicted that the writings of Jonathan Mayhew would
preserve his reputation “as long as New England shall be
free, integrity esteemed, or wit, spirit, humor, reason, and
knowledge admired.”
In a long life, which began almost with the beginning of
the eighteenth century, and did not end until the stress
* Works of J. Adams, IV. 29.
2OO Jſ/STORY OF AMERICA W //T/2/8.1 TÜA’A.
and peril of the American Revolution were all passed,
Charles Chauncey,' pastor of the first church of Boston,
lived among men as their natural leader. He was a man
of leonine heart, of strong, cool brain, of uncommon moral
strength. He bore a great part in the intellectual strife of
the Revolution; but before that strife was opened, he had
moulded deeply the thought of his time, both by his living
speech and by his publications. These were mostly ser-
mons; but as sermons they had an extraordinary sweep of
topics, from early piety and the lessons of affliction, to earth-
quakes in Spain, murder, religious compulsion, Presbyte-
rian ordination, legislative knavery, the encouragement of
industry, and the capture of Cape Breton.
The prevailing trait of the man was intellectual genuine-
ness in all things, and utter scorn of its opposite in anything.
He had a massive, logical, remorseless understanding, hardy
in its processes, and unwilling to take either fact or opinion
at second hand. On the great themes that were then in
debate among men, he put himself to enormous research.
One of these themes was the Episcopacy. He gave four
years of hard reading to it, first in the Scriptures and in
the Fathers, then in all modern books on both sides of the
controversy. Other themes were the doctrines of human
depravity, retribution, and the like. He settled himself
down for seven years to the study of these doctrines in the
New Testament, especially in the epistles of St. Paul, and
finally in all other books within reach; and he thus worked
his way “into an entirely new set of thoughts” ” on those
matters. He was an orthodox rationalist; and he stood
in the line of that intellectual development among the
clergy of New England, which at a later day culminated in
Unitarianism. -
In the midst of the popular spasms and rhapsodies
excited by the preaching of Whitefield and his imitators,
1 Born in Boston 1705, graduated at Harvard 1721, pastor in Boston from
1727 to his death in 1787.
* “Chauncey Memorials,” 70.
CA/ARZA'S CHA UAVCAE. Y. 2OI
the peculiar qualities of Charles Chauncey were strongly
revealed. He had an ineffable contempt for all slipshod,
giddy, gaseous minds; for ejaculatory and rhetorical folk;
for that oratory which makes up for absence of ideas by
vehemence of assertion. Whitefield himself, he regarded
as a clerical mountebank, ignorant, shallow, presumptuous,
injurious, “never so well pleased as with the hosannas of
ministers and parishioners in these parts of the earth; ”'
“the grand promoter of all the confusion there has been
in the land.” To Chauncey it seemed that the people
were being led by Whitefield and his kind into all manner
of disorder and folly; that inevitable reaction would come,
by and by, in every shape of moral disaster; and that it
was the duty of every sound brain to help to check the
epidemic of lunacy. With his usual thoroughness he first
undertook to gather the facts; he travelled hundreds of
miles to observe for himself the proceedings of the itiner-
ants and of the people who were affected by them; and
being convinced that the fruits were delusion, anarchy,
self-righteousness, and all uncharitableness, he published,
in 1742, a tremendous sermon entitled “Enthusiasm,” and
in the following year, a still more powerful treatise, enti-
tled, “Seasonable Thoughts on the State of Religion in
New England.”
A remarkable passage in the former of these works, is
his description of the enthusiast; a full-length portrait for
all ages and all lands. The original being just then very
conspicuous in the streets of Boston, the fidelity of this
portrait must have rendered it extremely effective at that
time: “The enthusiast is one who has a conceit of himself
as a person favored with the extraordinary presence of the
Deity. He mistakes the workings of his own passions for
divine communications; and fancies himself immediately in-
spired by the Spirit of God, when all the while he is under
no other influence than that of an over-heated imagination.
* “Chauncey Memorials,” 65. 2 Ibid. 68.
2O2 A/STORY OF AMERICAAW ZZ TERA 7'UA'Aº.
“The cause of this enthusiasm is a bad temperament of
the blood and spirits. 'Tis properly a disease, a sort of
madness. . . . None are so much in danger of it, as those
in whom melancholy is the prevailing ingredient in their
constitution. In these it often reigns, and sometimes to
so great a degree, that they are really beside themselves,
acting as truly by the blind impetus of a wild fancy, as
though they had neither reason nor understanding.
“And various are the ways in which their enthusiasm
discovers itself. Sometimes, it may be seen in their coun-
tenance. A certain wildness is discernible in their general
look and air. . . . Sometimes, it strangely loosens their
tongues and gives them such an energy, as well as fluency
and volubility in speaking, as they themselves, by their
utmost efforts, cannot so much as imitate when they are
not under the enthusiastic influence. Sometimes, it affects
their bodies, throws them into convulsions and distortions,
into quakings and tremblings. . . . Sometimes, it will un-
accountably mix itself with their conduct, and give it such
a tincture of that which is freakish and furious, as none
can have an idea of, but those who have seen the behavior
of a person in a frenzy. Sometimes, it appears in their
imaginary peculiar intimacy with heaven. They are, in
their own opinion, the special favorites of God; have more
familiar converse with him than other good men ; and re-
ceive immediate, extraordinary communications from him.
. . . And what extravagances, in this temper of mind, are
they not capable of, and under the specious pretext too of
paying obedience to the authority of God? Many have
fancied themselves acting by immediate warrant from
heaven, while they have been committing the most un-
doubted wickedness. There is, indeed, scarce anything so
wild, either in speculation or practice, but they have given
in to it; they have, in many instances, been blasphemers of
God and open disturbers of the peace of the world. But in
nothing does the enthusiasm of these persons discover itself
more, than in the disregard they express to the dictates of
CHARLES CAA UAVCE Y. 2O3
reason. They are above the force of argument, beyond
conviction from a calm and sober address to their under-
standings. As for them, they are distinguished persons;
God himself speaks inwardly and immediately to their
souls. . . . And in vain will you endeavor to convince
such persons of any mistakes they are fallen into. They
are certainly in the right, and know themselves to be so.
. . . They are not, therefore, capable of being argued
with ; you had as good reason with the wind. And as the
natural consequence of their being thus sure of everything,
they are not only infinitely stiff and tenacious, but impa-
tient of contradiction, censorious, and uncharitable. . . .
Those . . . who venture to debate with them about their
errors and mistakes, their weaknesses and indiscretions,
run the hazard of being stigmatized by them as poor, un-
converted wretches, without the Spirit, under the govern-
ment of carnal reason, enemies to God and religion, and
in the broad way to hell. . . . The extraordinary fervor
of their minds, accompanied with uncommon bodily mo-
tions, and an excessive confidence and assurance, gains
them great reputation among the populace; who speak of
them as men of God, in distinction from all others, and too
commonly hearken to and revere their dictates, as though
they really were, as they pretend, immediately commu-
nicated to them from the Divine Spirit.” " -
* The sermon, 3–6.
CHAPTER xvi.
LITERATURE IN THE MIDIDLE COLONIES.
1. NEw York AND NEw JERSEY.
I.—Traits of life in New York before it became English—After it became
English—A many-tongued community—Metropolitan indications—Edu-
cation neglected—Literary effort only in spasms.
II.—Daniel Denton, a pioneer of American Literature there—His “ Brief
Description of New York”—His pictures of nature and of social felicity—
Thomas Budd, of New Jersey, another pioneer writer—His “Good Order
established in Pennsylvania and New Jersey”—William Leeds, a refugee
from Philadelphia—His “News of a Trumpet sounding in the Wilderness.”
III.-Lewis Morris of Morrisania—His vivacious boyhood—Turns vagabond
—Settlement into steady courses—A powerful politician—His literary in-
clinations—His letters from London—Provincial loyalty disenchanted by
going to the metropolis.
IV.-Cadwallader Colden—His long career—Manifold activity—Extraordi-
nary range of his studies and of his writings—His “History of the Five
Indian Nations” — Its characteristics — Its descriptions of the savage
virtues. -
V.—Daniel Coxe of New Jersey—His “Description of the English Province
of Carolana”—His statesmanly view of colonial affairs—Anticipates Frank-
lin's plan of a union of the colonies.
VI.—Jonathan Dickinson, pulpit-orator, physician, teacher, author—First
president of the College of New Jersey—His personal traits—His eminence
as a theological debater—His “Familiar Letters.” -
VII.-William Livingston—His “Philosophic Solitude”—Manner and spirit
of the poem—Antithesis between his ideal life and his real one—His
strong character—Outward engagements—His activity as a pamphleteer
and as a writer in the journals—His burlesque definition of his own creed
—His “Review of the Military Operations in North America”—His
“Verses to Eliza.”
VIII.--William Smith—The course of his life—His special interest in the
history of his native province—His “History of New York”—Criticisms
upon it—Samuel Smith and his “History of the Colony of Nova Caesarea
or New Jersey.”
2. PENNSYLVANIA.
I.—The founders of Pennsylvania—The high motives of their work—Their
social severity – Intellectual greatness of William Penn — Justice and
2O4.
AVAE W YORK AAWD ME W /ERSE Y. 2O5
liberality imparted by him to the constitution of his province—Education
provided for—First impulses to literary production in Pennsylvania—The
development of a literary spirit in Philadelphia.
II.—Gabriel Thomas—A brisk Quaker—His “Account” of Pennsylvania
and of West New Jersey—His enthusiasm for his province—Its freedom
from lawyers and doctors—Its proffer of relief to the distressed in the old
world—Richard Frame—His “Short Description of Pennsylvania”—
John Holme—His “True Relation of the Flourishing State of Pennsyl-
vania”—Jonathan Dickenson —“God’s Protecting Providence Man's
Surest Help.”
III.-James Logan--Penn invites him to America and trusts to him his
affairs there—His fidelity to the Penns and to the people—Difficulties of
his position—His great intellectual attainments—His writings published
and unpublished.
IV.—William Smith—His influence upon intellectual culture in the middle
colonies—Arrival at New York—His “General Idea of the College of
Mirania”—Is invited to Philadelphia—His useful career as educator,
preacher, and writer.
V.—A succession of small writers—Jacob Taylor—Henry Brooke—Samuel
Keimer—Aquila Rose—James Ralph—George Webb and his “Bachelors'
Hall”—Joseph Breintnal—A poem from “Titan's Almanac" for 1730–
Joseph Shippen—John Webbe—Lewis Evans.
VI.-Samuel Davies—Born and educated in Pennsylvania—Acquires in Vir-
ginia great fame as a pulpit-orator—His mission to England—Becomes
president of the College of New Jersey—His death—Great popularity of
his published sermons down to the present time—His traits as a preacher
—Passage from his sermon on “The General Resurrection.”
VII.-Thomas Godfrey, the poet—Connection of his father's family with
Franklin—His early life and death—Publication of his “Juvenile Poems.”
His “Prince of Parthia,” the first American drama—A study of it.
VIII.-Benjamin Franklin, the first man of letters in America to achieve
cosmopolitan fame—His writings during our present period—His great
career during the subsequent period.
I. NEW YORK AND NEW JERSEY.
I.
NEAR the middle of the year 1664, the Dutch town of
New Amsterdam was suddenly transformed into the Eng-
lish town of New York, being then just forty-one years
old, and having a population of fifteen hundred souls.
The whole province, of course, shared the new name and
the new mastership that had overtaken its chief town.
2O6 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LIZERA TURE.
The Dutch, who founded both town and province, had
thriven there from the beginning, according to the habit
of their race,—a patient, devout, labor-loving, wealth-get-
ting, stolid community. Though popular education was
neglected, and intellectual life ran sluggish and dull, there
were among them many men of strong brains and scholarly
attainments:" Van der Donck, Megapolensis, and De Vries,
who wrote history; Stuyvesant, Beeckman, and Van Rens-
Selaer, whose letters show considerable learning; Van
Dincklagen, and Van Schelluyne, who were wise in the law;
Jacob Steendam, Henricus Selyns, and Nicasius De Sillè,
who wrote poetry;” and besides these, several theologians
and physicians who were well-read in their own sciences.
Though the prevailing race in New Amsterdam was
Dutch, from an early day the town had been an attractive
one to men of other races. Twenty-one years before it
fell into the hands of the English, it had, within it and
near it, a population speaking eighteen different languages.”
After it fell into the hands of the English, its attractive-
ness to men of many languages certainly did not diminish;
and it became, what its best historian calls it, “the most
polygenous of all the British dependencies in North Amer-
ica.” “ In the first twenty-four years of its existence
under English sway, its population was nearly quadrupled;
and by the end of the colonial time, it had increased almost
twenty-fold. A community of many tongues, of many cus-
toms, of many faiths, there was, doubtless, in that fact a
prophecy of metropolitan largeness and generosity, in store
for it somewhere in the future.
Nevertheless, we shall greatly err if we imagine that,
during the larger part of the colonial time, New York was
much more than a prosperous and drowsy Dutch village,
J. R. Brodhead, “Hist. N. Y.” I. 748.
* “Anthology of New Netherland; or, Translations from the early Dutch
poets of New York, with memoirs of their lives,” by Henry C. Murphy.
New York, 1865.
* J. R. Brodhead, “Hist, N. Y.” I. 374. * Ibid. II. 387.
ANAAV/A2Z Z)AAV7'OAV. 2O7
perplexed by polyglot interference and the menace of in-
tellectual illumination; the scene of a petty life; ravaged
by sectarian and provincial bigotries, and by vulgar com-
petitions in society and in politics; very slowly moving
toward the discovery that, in all the world, there is any
other pursuit so noble as the pursuit of wealth. The his-
torian, William Smith, writing in 1757, mentions that, for
a long time, his own father and James De Lancey “were
the only academics” in the province; and that, as late as
1745, there were only thirteen more.” “What a contrast,”
he exclaims, “in everything respecting the cultivation of
science, between this and the colonies first settled by the
English!”* “Our schools are of the lowest order—the in-
structors want instruction; and through a long and shame-
ful neglect of all the arts and sciences, our common speech
is extremely corrupt; and the evidences of bad taste, both
as to thought and language, are visible in all our proceed-
ings, public and private.” ” -
The history of literature in such a community, at such a
period, must be the record, not of any concentrated and
continuous literary activity, but of the occasional efforts
of cultivated men to express themselves, for practical pur-
poses, in some literary form.
II.
DANIEL DENTON, the son of a minister in Connecticut,
removed in 1644 into the province of New York, where he
rose to distinction both as a land-owner and as a politician.
In 1670, apparently with the view of attracting immigra-
tion to that province, he published, in London, “A Brief
Description of New York,” “–a book of twenty-two pages,
uncommonly graphic and animated. He kept closely to the
facts that had come under his own eyes, prudently declin-
* Wm. Smith, “Hist. N. Y.” II. I.13. * Ibid. 379.
*Ibid. I. 328. “Reprinted, New York, 1845, ed. by Gabriel Furman.
208 A/STORY OF AMER/CAM Z/7′ERA TURE.
ing to say anything about those portions of the province
that lay “to the northward yet undiscovered,” or in “the
bowels of the earth not yet opened.” Even on the basis
of literal and visible fact, however, he had enough, both
useful and beautiful, to justify his enthusiasm for the land
which he sought to make known to English emigrants.
He gives an account of its fitness for all sorts of industrial
Success; not forgetting to describe its natural charms, as
in May, when “you shall see the woods and fields so curi-
ously bedecked with roses, and an innumerable multitude
of delightful flowers, . . . that you may behold nature
contending with art, and striving to equal if not excel
many gardens in England; ”* and “divers sorts of singing-
birds, whose chirping notes salute the ears of travellers
with an harmonious discord; and in every pond and brook,
green, silken frogs, who, warbling forth their untuned
tunes, strive to bear a part in this music.” Having given
a sufficient account of the natural and social advantages
of the province, he seeks to win inhabitants for it by ap-
pealing to the English love of personal independence and
domestic thrift: “If there be any terrestrial happiness to
be had by people of all ranks, especially of an inferior rank,
it must certainly be here. Here any one may furnish him-
self with land, and live rent-free; yea, with such a quantity
of land that he may weary himself with walking over his
fields of corn and all sorts of grain. . . . Here those which
Fortune hath frowned upon in England to deny them an
inheritance amongst their brethren, or such as by their
utmost labors can scarcely procure a living, . . . may pro-
cure here inheritances of lands and possessions, stock them-
selves with all sorts of cattle, enjoy the benefit of them
whilst they live, and leave them to the benefit of their
children when they die. Here you need not trouble the
shambles for meat, nor bakers and brewers for beer and
bread, nor run to a linen-draper for a supply. . . . If there
* “A Brief Description,” etc. 4. * Ibid. 5–6.
AAAV/AEA, ZAZZZO.S. 209
º
be any terrestrial Canaan, 'tis surely here, where the land
floweth with milk and honey. The inhabitants are blessed
with peace and plenty, blessed in their country, blessed in
their fields, blessed in the fruit of their bodies, in the fruit
of their grounds, in the increase of their cattle, horses, and
sheep, blessed in their basket and in their store; in a
word, blessed in whatsoever they take in hand, or go
about, the earth yielding plentiful increase to all their
painful labors.” "
Precisely fifteen years after the publication of Daniel
Denton's winsome sketch of the province of New York,
Thomas Budd, of New Jersey, a worthy Quaker, and a
man of much importance in his own neighborhood, pub-
lished, likewise at London, a little book entitled “Good
Order established in Pennsylvania and New Jersey in
America.” The purpose of this book, like that of Daniel
Denton, was to catch the eye of emigrants; and for that
purpose it perhaps did not need, as certainly it did not
have, much literary merit.
Another book belonging to this pioneer period of litera-
ture in New York and its neighborhood, is a very curious
one: “News of a Trumpet sounding in the Wilderness;
or, The Quakers' ancient testimony revived, examined,
and compared with itself, and also with their new doc-
trine—whereby the ignorant may learn wisdom and the
wise advance in their understandings; ” published by Wil-
liam Bradford in 1697, and written by Daniel Leeds, once
a Quaker and an early settler in Pennsylvania. This man,
having quarrelled with his brethren there, abandoned them
and finally their province, and established himself in New
York, probably in 1693, where, for about thirty years, he
continued in his famous almanacs that warfare against the
Quakers which he had begun in his book.
* “A Brief Description,” etc. I9–21.
* Reprinted, New York, 1865, ed. by Edward Armstrong.
VOL. II.-I4
2 IO A/STORY OF AMER/CAM ZZ TERA 7"O RE.
III.
LEWIS MORRIS, born in 1671, on the paternal estate of
Morrisania, lived a long and vigorous life as colonial poli-
tician in New York and New Jersey; was, for more than
twenty years, chief-justice of the former province, and died,
in 1746, as royal governor of the latter; a man of large in-
herited wealth, of high social consideration, of bold and
somewhat unscrupulous talent; a natural intriguer. Though
he settled into manhood sufficiently sedate, his youth was
uncommonly vivacious, and sparkled long afterward in a
trail of amusing traditions. Being left an orphan in his
infancy, he came under the care of an uncle, who seems
to have found the boy hard to tame into industry and
propriety. At one time, he had for his tutor an enthusi-
astic Quaker, one Hugh Coppathwaite, who enjoyed much
of the divine presence through various inward and out-
ward communications. The boy conceived the happy
thought of helping his preceptor to a new revelation, and
himself to a holiday; and, accordingly, hiding in the
branches of a tree under which the Quaker was used to
walk, the lad called out to him in solemn tones, and com-
manded him to go away at once, and preach the gospel
among the Mohawks. The good man accepted the man-
date as the very voice of heaven, and was on the point
of setting out to obey it, when, unluckily for the boy,
the trick was discovered, and his studies were not inter-
rupted." Subsequently, breaking away from all restraints,
he roamed into Virginia to see the world, thence to the
West Indies, picking up a living as best he could ; after
some years, the vagabond came home, was pardoned by
his uncle, married, and entered soon upon his distin-
guished public career. He was an able speaker; loved
power over men, and the arts by which it is gained; and
though his own contact with books must have been casual
Wm. Smith, “Hist, N.Y." ed. 1814, 202.
LE WIS MORRIS. - 2 II
and irregular, he greatly enjoyed literature and the society
of literary men." There remains a letter of his to his Lon-
don bookseller, for the year 1739, containing a list of
books which he desired, and indicating that, even at the
age of sixty-eight, his mind was reaching out toward new
studies, as well as old ones: law books, political treatises,
theological writings, histories, a Hebrew grammar, an
Arabic grammar, and an edition of John Milton.”
He wrote nothing that he thought of as literature; but
the brightness and vigor of his mind are shown in his cor-
respondence, and in his state-papers. He appears to have
been not incapable even of sportive rhymes on occasion.
For instance, in 1709, in sending to the governor of New
York, Lord Lovelace, a memorial for the board of trade,
he added a private address on his own account, beginning
with these lines:
“As kings at their meals sit alone at a table,
Not deigning to eat with the lords of the rabble,
So the great Lewis Morris presents an address
By himself, all alone, not one else of the mess.” "
In 1735, he went to England, to make complaint to the
parliament and ministry respecting the conduct of William
Cosby, at that time governor of New York, under royal
appointment; and his letters to friends at home are good
examples of the sprightliness of his mind. The visit of
this American politician to the metropolis, appears to have
been the means of a rough disenchantment, robbing him
of many beautiful provincial illusions respecting the ten-
der and paternal care with which English statesmen were
supposed to deal with Americans and their affairs: “You
have very imperfect notions of the world on this side of
the water—I mean that world with which I have to do.
They are unconcerned at the sufferings of the people in
1 Wm. Smith, “Hist. N. Y.” ed. 1814, 202.
* “Papers of Lewis Morris,” 47. - * Ibid. 322.
2I 2 Ay/S7 OF Y OF AMER/CAAV ZATERA 7'ORAE.
America. . . . It may be you will be surprised to hear
that the most nefarious crime a governor can commit is
not, by some, counted so bad, as the crime of complaining
of it; the last is an arraigning of the ministry that advised
the sending of him.” “We talk in America of appli-
cations to parliaments. Alas! my friend, parliaments are
parliaments everywhere; here, as well as with us, though
more numerous. We admire the heavenly bodies which
glitter at a distance; but should we be removed into Jupi-
ter or Saturn, perhaps we should find it composed of as
dark materials as our own earth. . . . We have a par-
liament and ministry, some of whom, I am apt to believe,
know that there are plantations and governors—but not
quite so well as we do. Like the frogs in the fable, the
mad pranks of a plantation governor is sport to them,
though death to us; and [they] seem less concerned in
our contests than we are at those between crows and king-
birds. Governors are called the king's representatives;
and when by repeated instances of avarice, cruelty, and
injustice, they extort complaints from the injured, in terms
truly expressive of the violence committed and injuries
suffered, it must be termed a flying in the face of govern-
ment; the king's representative must be treated with soft-
ness and decency; the thing complained of is nothing
near so criminal in them, as the manner of complaint in
the injured. And who is there that is equal to the task of
procuring redress? Changing the man is far from an ade-
quate remedy, if the thing remains the same; and we had
as well keep an ill, artless governor we know, as to change
him for one equally ill, with more art, that we do not
know. One of my neighbors used to say that he always
rested better in a bed abounding with fleas after they had
filled their bellies, than to change it for a new one equally
full of hungry ones; the fleas having no business there but
to eat. The inference is easy.”
* “Papers of Lewis Morris,” 24–25. - * Ibid. 23–24.
CAD WAZZADER COLDEAV. 213
IV.
CADWALLADER COLDEN was the son of a Presbyterian
minister in Scotland, but was himself accidentally born in
Ireland. He was educated at the University of Edinburgh;
after studying medicine there and in London, he emigrated
to America in 17 Io, and settled at Philadelphia for the
practice of his profession. In 1718, at the friendly solicita-
tion of General Robert Hunter, the governor of New York,
he removed to that province, where he received the office
of surveyor-general ; became proprietor of a large estate
in lands; was made a member of the king's council, and in
the latter part of his life, lieutenant-governor, with frequent
exercise of the duties of governor; and died, in Septem-
ber, 1776, aged eighty-eight, a loyalist to his king, and bit-
terly hated by the people whom he had served so long,
but whose later movements toward revolution he had felt
it his duty to resist. -
Thus, the life of Cadwallader Colden, though it had a
patriarchal length, had not the patriarchal quietude; it
was a life of manifold outward occupation, and latterly of
political turmoil and rancor; and yet, so valiant and crav-
ing was his spirit, that he found time, during all those busy
lustrums of his, to be not only a cultivator of various learn-
ing, but one of the leaders of mankind in its cultivation.
A monument of his industry and of his versatility, remains
to us in the vast mass of his writings, published and un-
published, which deal, acutely and philosophically, with
almost every great topic of human interest,-divinity,
ethics, metaphysics, politics, mathematics, history, geology,
botany, optics, zoölogy, medicine, agriculture, and even
certain improvements in the mechanic arts, as stereotypy."
The one production of his that most nearly approaches a
purely literary effort, is “The History of the Five Indian
* The rich Colden MSS. are in possession of the N. Y. Hist. Soc., and
well deserve careful editing and publication. -
2I4 AISTORY OF AMERICAN ZZ TERA 7'U.R.E.
Nations.” Of this work, the first part, bringing the nar-
rative down to 1688, was originally published in New York,
in 1727; * and the second part, continuing the narrative to
the peace of Ryswick, 1697, was published in London, in
1747.* The book is principally a sketch of five powerful
allied Indian tribes then residing in the northern part
of the province of New York, -—their forms of govern-
ment, their wars with hostile tribes, their conflicts and
treaties with Frenchmen, Dutchmen, and Englishmen;
upon the whole, a very slender, not altogether accurate,
and not in the least interesting account of sundry parcels
of savages, of their steady employment in scalping and in
getting scalped, mitigated by occasional interludes of pala-
ver with one another and with white men. Though the
author writes with ease, and generally with verbal correct-
ness, it is impossible for him to redeem his book from the
curse of being a history of what deserves no history. A
single episode, giving the exploits of the Algonquin chief,
Piscaret, has some dramatic vividness, even though also
the flavor of palpable myth;” while the best piece of writ-
ing in the book, is its dedication to William Burnet, the
governor of New York,+particularly, the passage wherein
the author celebrates the austere virtues of the savages
whose history he records: “The Five Nations are a poor,
barbarous people, under the darkest ignorance; and yet a
bright and noble genius shines through these black clouds.
None of the greatest Roman heroes have discovered a
greater love to their country, or a greater contempt of
death, than these barbarians have done, when life and lib-
erty came in competition. Indeed, I think our Indians
have outdone the Romans in this particular; for some of
the greatest Romans have murdered themselves, to avoid
1 An exact reprint of this edition, with an introduction and notes by John
Gilmary Shea, was made in N. Y. in 1866.
* A very corrupt edition, however, containing omissions and additions un-
authorized by Colden. - - -
* “The History of the Five Indian Nations,” Shea's ed. 12–15.
IXAAW/EZ COXAE. 215
shame or torments; whereas our Indians have refused to
die, meanly, with the least pain, when they thought their
country's honor would be at stake by it, but gave their
bodies willingly up to the most cruel torments of their
enemies, to show that the Five Nations consisted of men
whose courage and resolution could not be shaken.” "
The hope that these vivacious sentences awaken in us,
of some broad and fine human interest connected with the
history of the author's nude patriots and stoics, is not
fulfilled.
V.
In the year 1722, there was published in London a book
respecting America, which deserved the deep attention of
English and American statesmen at that time, and which,
on one account, is still worthy of remembrance by us. It
bore this formidable title: “A Description of the English
Province of Carolana, by the Spaniards called Florida, and
by the French La Louisiane; as also the great and famous
river, Meschacebe or Mississippi, the five vast navigable
lakes of fresh-water, and the parts adjacent; together with
an account of the commodities, of the growth and produc-
tion of the said province ; and a preface containing some
considerations on the consequences of the French making .
settlements there.”
The author was Daniel Coxe, a man of wealth, and of
high social and political influence in New Jersey, who had
inherited from his father a claim to the vast territory
described in his book. It is the preface of the book,
however, that is now of special interest to us; for in that
preface, the author discussed, at great length and with
great ability, the condition and the perils of the English
colonies in America, the legal right of the English to the
interior of the continent, and especially, the strategy to be
pursued by enlightened statesmanship in realizing that
* “The History of the Five Nations,” Dedication, 3–4.
216 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE.
*
right in opposition to the competing claims of the Spanish
and the French. The chief element in the strategy pro-
posed by him, is described in one word—union. Thus, in
I722, Daniel. Coxe publicly explained and advocated a
plan of union among the American colonies, the details
of which closely resemble those brought forward by Frank-
lin, thirty-two years afterward, at the famous congress of
Albany: “That all the colonies . . . be united under a
legal, regular, and firm establishment; over which . . . a
lieutenant or supreme governor may be . . . appointed to
preside on the spot, to whom the governors of each colony
shall be subordinate; ” that the council or assembly of
each province elect annually two delegates “to a great
council or general convention of the estates of the colo-
nies;” that the latter “consult and advise for the good of
the whole.” “A coalition or union of this nature,” adds
Daniel Coxe, in his earnest argument for it, “tempered
with and grounded on prudence, moderation, and justice,
and a generous encouragement given to the labor, indus-
try, and good management of all sorts and conditions of
persons, . . . will, in all probability, lay a sure and lasting
foundation of dominion, strength, and trade, sufficient not
only to secure and promote the prosperity of the planta-
tions, but to revive and greatly increase the late flourish-
ing state and condition of Great Britain.””
VI.
JONATHAN DICKINSON was born at Hatfield, Massachu-
setts, in 1688; and was graduated at Yale College, in 1706.
In 1708, he went to Elizabethtown, New Jersey; and there,
for the subsequent thirty-nine years, he lived a most ener-
getic life, as minister, physician, educator, and author,
1 “A Description,” etc. ed. I726, Pref. It may be mentioned that, in
I697, William Penn had suggested a similar plan of union among the colo-
nies. Hildreth, “Hist. U. S.” II. 444.
JONA THAN DICKINSON. 217
displaying great ability in all these spheres, and acquiring
a commanding influence through the whole land. He was
a leader in ecclesiastical politics in the middle colonies;
he was a fascinating and mighty pulpit-orator; he was the
principal founder of the College of New Jersey, and its
first president; in person he was of so saintly and impres-
sive an aspect, “that the wicked seemed to tremble in his
presence;” his long life was so pure, consistent, and
noble, that “the memory of it is still fragrant on the spot
where he lived,” and the descendants “of those who knew
and loved him cherish an hereditary reverence for his name
and his grave.”” -
He was a voluminous author, his chief distinction point-
ing toward skill in theological controversy. He had the
talent of a logician ; he was an intrepid debater; as a
protagonist for Calvinism, he stood in reputation among
American theologians of his time, next to Jonathan Ed-
wards; and a great Scottish divine” testified that even
“the British Isles had produced no such writers on divinity
in the eighteenth century,” as were these two men, both
born on the confines of the New England forests, and both
bred at Yale College.
Perhaps the most interesting specimen of his literary
and dialectical gifts, is his “Familiar Letters to a Gentle-
man, upon a Variety of seasonable and important Subjects
in Religion; ”* in which are these sentences, portraying
the logical difficulties to be assumed by any one who shall
reject the historical verity of the New Testament: “If this
history be not true, then all the known laws of nature were
changed; all the motives and incentives to human actions,
that ever had obtained in the world, have been entirely in-
verted; the wickedest men in the world have taken the
greatest pains and endured the greatest hardship and mis-
* David Austin, in W. B. Sprague, “Annals of Am. Pulpit,” III. I7.
* Ibid. 17.
* Dr. John Erskine, ibid. I7.
* Boston, 1745.
2I8 A/STORY OF AMER/CAAV ZAZTERA 7'URE.
ery, to invent, practise, and propagate the most holy reli-
gion that ever was; and not only the apostles and first
preachers of the gospel, but whole nations of men and all
sorts of men, Christian, Jew, and pagan, were—nobody can
imagine how or why—confederated to propagate a known
cheat, against their own honor, interest, and safety; and
multitudes of men, without any prospect of advantage,
here or hereafter, were brought most constantly and tena-
ciously to profess what they knew to be false, to exchange
all the comforts and pleasures of life for shame and con-
tempt, for banishments, scourgings, imprisonments, and
death; in a word, voluntarily to expose themselves to be
hated both of God and man, and that without any known
motive whatsoever.””
VII.
In the year 1747, was published in New York a little
book entitled “Philosophic Solitude; or, The Choice of a
Rural Life,”—a poem of nearly seven hundred lines, an-
nouncing itself as the production of “a gentleman edu-
cated at Yale College.” This gentleman proved to be
William Livingston, then twenty-four years old, just be-
ginning the practice of the law in New York, and destined
to a long and illustrious career as a statesman in the era
of the Revolution. During his whole life, he was absorbed
in stormy and agitating public movements; yet he found
time to retain an uncommon intimacy with the best litera-
ture, and to exercise in many ways his own remarkable
aptitude for literary work. This poem is obviously the
effort of a rhyming apprentice, still in bondage to the
methods of his master, Alexander Pope; yet he catches
the knack of his master with a cleverness proving the pos-
sibility of original work, on his own account, by and by.
It illustrates, likewise, a trait of human nature, that this
young lawyer and politician, having given himself to a
* “Familiar Letters,” etc. 58.
WIZZIAM Z/V/AWGSTON. 2I9
practical career in the thick of the world's affairs, and
one made tumultuous by his own aggressive spirit, should
have begun it by depicting, in enthusiastic verse, his
preference for a life of absolute retirement and Serene
meditation: -
“Let ardent heroes seek renown in arms,
Pant after fame, and rush to war's alarms ;
To shining palaces, let fools resort,
And dunces cringe to be esteemed at court :
Mine be the pleasures of a rural life,
From noise remote, and ignorant of strife ; -
Far from the painted belle, the white-gloved beau,
The lawless masquerade and midnight show ;
From ladies, lapdogs, courtiers, garters, stars,
Fops, fiddlers, tyrants, emperors, and czars.” "
He then pictures for us the situation of the home in the
country, in which he would spend his tranquil life, its
furniture, its surroundings; he sings over again his love
of solitude; he mentions the sort of friends whom he
would have within call; he portrays the frame of devotion
and calm contemplation which should abide with him.
His hermitage should be far from
“Prime-ministers, and sycophantic knaves,
Illustrious villains, and illustrious slaves.””
There, he would
“live retired, contented, and serene,
Forgot, unknown, unenvied, and unseen.” 8
He would have books for his most intimate friends; he
would have Virgil as prince of the classic bards; he would
be surrounded by Milton, Pope, Dryden, and “the gentle
Watts; ” also, by Locke, Raleigh, Denham; among philoso-
phers, he would give the place of honor to Newton. More-
over, he would alleviate his solitude by the presence of a
* “Philosophic Solitude,” 13. * Ibid. I6. 8 Ibid. I7.
22O HISTORY OF AMERICAN Z17ERATURE.
wife. This being should be none of those “ideal god-
desses" who
“to church repair,
Peep through the fan, and mutter o'er a prayer;
Or, deeply studied in coquettish rules,
Aim wily glances at unthinking fools.” "
She is to be not an ideal goddess, but a literal one, an
absolutely faultless being, who having accepted his ad-
dresses becomes, he says, -
“Imparadised within my eager arms.”
He then reaches the climax of his poem by depicting
the crowning experience of his “philosophic solitude”—
a solitude the peculiar rigors of which would not seem to
have required a vast exertion of philosophy to endure:
“With her I’d spend the pleasurable day,
While fleeting minutes gayly danced away :
I'd reign the happy monarch of her charms;
Oft in her panting bosom would I lay,
And, in dissolving raptures, melt away;
Then lulled by nightingales to balmy rest, *
My blooming fair should slumber at my breast.”
The voluptuous languors of this poem, report a quality
in the author that did not control him; and henceforward,
through nearly half a century, his real life was a battle for
stern and great ideas. He was of Scottish ancestry; and
if he had within him the romantic intensity of his race, he
had likewise its intellectual ruggedness, its iron grasp of
conviction, its unsubmissiveness, its onrushing and most
fervid pleasure in strife, its nerve of invincible endur-
ance,—a double strain sent down to him from the old
Scottish ballad-makers and from the old Scottish cove-
nanters. The practice of his profession did not consume
his energy; he was felt, as a pamphleteer and as a journalist,
* “Philosophic Solitude,” 40–41. - * Ibid. 45.
WZZZZA M Z/ V/AWGS 7'OAV. 22I
in all the topics that came up for debate in the colony in
those years, especially those connected with the denom-
inational control of King's College, with military opera-
tions, and with the establishment of an American Episco-
pate. He was a resolute member of the Reformed Dutch
Church. By his newspaper articles against the efforts of
the Episcopalians to obtain the mastery of King's College,
he had brought upon himself the charges of atheism, deism,
and Presbyterianism ; and with reference to these impu-
tations, he retorted upon his opponents with his usual
wit and vigor, in a travesty on the Thirty-nine Articles:
“I. I believe the Scriptures of the Old and New Testament,
without any foreign comments or human explanations but
my own ; for which I should, doubtless, be honored with
martyrdom, did I not live in a government which restrains
that fiery zeal which would reduce a man's body to ashes,
for the illumination of his understanding. . . . 5. I believe
that the word orthodox is a hard, equivocal, priestly
term that has caused the effusion of more blood than
all the Roman emperors put together. . . . 7. I believe
that to defend the Christian religion is one thing, and to
knock a man on the head for being of a different opinion
is another thing. . . . II. I believe that he who feareth
God and worketh righteousness, will be accepted of Him,
even though he refuse to worship any man or order of
men into the bargain. . . . I 3. I believe that riches, orna-
ments, and ceremonies were assumed by churches for the
same reason that garments were invented by our first
parents. . . . I5. I believe that a man may be a good
Christian, though he be of no sect in Christendom. . . .
17. I believe that our faith, like our stomachs, may be
overcharged, especially if we are prohibited to chew what
we are commanded to swallow. . . . 38. I believe that
the virulence of some of the clergy against my specula-
tions, proceeds not from their affection to Christianity,
which is founded on too firm a basis to be shaken by the
freest inquiry, and the divine authority of which I sin-
222 HISTORY OF AMERICAN ZZTERATURE.
cerely believe, without receiving a farthing for saying so;
but from an apprehension of bringing into contempt their
ridiculous claims and unreasonable pretensions, which may
justly tremble at the slightest scrutiny, and which I believe
I shall more and more put into a panic, in defiance of both
press and pulpit.”
His most serious effort as a prose writer, during this
period of our literary history, was “A Review of the Mili-
tary Operations in North America,” from 1753 to 1756.
This work is in the form of a letter addressed to a noble-
man, and was first published, without the author's name,
in London, in the year 1756. Its historical value is con-
siderable, principally, as embalming the fury of partisan-
ship that raged, at that time, between the great families of
the colony of New York, and that drew within its folds
the reputations of Sir William Johnson on the one hand,
and of Governor William Shirley on the other. As a literary
work, the book rises far above the mob of political pam-
phlets. Though somewhat lacking in concentration, it is
written with much elegance; and it is especially remark-
able for its elaborate portraits of the great men of the day.
The painter of these portraits makes no pretence of im-
partiality, but tints his canvas at will with the frankness
of his love or of his hate.
It is not disagreeable to be reminded, once more, of the
tender and gallant vein that streaked the nature of this
robust political combatant; and to find that, even amid
the rancors of his strenuous career, there were moods in
which he could dash off verses so graceful and so sprightly
as these :
“Soon as I saw Eliza's blooming charms,
I longed to clasp the fair one in my arms.
Her every feature proved a pointed dart
That pierced with pleasing pain my wounded heart ;
* From No. 46 of “The Independent Reflector,” as reprinted in T. Sedg-
wick, “Life of W. Livingston,” 86–87.
WILLIAM SMITH. 223
And yet, this beauty—it transcends belief—
This blooming beauty is an arrant thief.
Attend : her numerous thefts I will rehearse
In honest narrative and faithful verse.
From the bright splendor of the noonday sky,
She stole the sparkling lustre of her eye.
Her cheeks, though lovely red, still more to adorn,
She filched the blushes of the orient morn.
To embalm her lips, she robbed the honey-dew;
To increase their bloom, the rose-bud of its hue.
Her voice, enchanting to the dullest ears,
She pillaged from the music of the spheres ;
To make her neck still lovelier to the sight,
She robbed the ermine of its spotless white;
From Virgil's Juno, Jove's fictitious mate,
She stole the queen-like and majestic gait.
Of all her charms, she robbed the Cyprian queen,
And, still insatiate, stripped the Graces of their mien.
But now, to perfect an harmonious whole,
With those internal charms that can't be stole,
Kind Heaven, without her thieving, took delight
To grant supernal grace, and inward light:
To charms angelic, it vouchsafed to impart
Angelic virtues, and an angel heart.
Thus fair in form, embellished thus in mind,
All beauteous outward, inward all refined,
What could induce Eliza still to steal,
And make poor plundered me her theft to feel ?
For, last, she stole (if with ill-purposed art
I'll ne'er forgive the theft) she stole—my heart;
Yes, yes, I will, if she will but incline
To give me half of hers, for all the whole of mine.” 1
VIII.
WILLIAM SMITH was the son of an eminent lawyer of
New York, where he was born in 1728. He was graduated
* T. Sedgwick, “Life of W. Livingston,” 117–118.
224 // IS ZTORY OF AMERICAAV ZATERA 7'URAE.
at Yale College, in 1745. Devoting himself to the profes-
sions of law and of politics, he speedily rose to distinction
in both. During the Revolutionary War, he was a loyal-
ist; in 1783, he went to England, and three years later,
was rewarded for his fidelity to the crown, by the appoint-
ment of chief-justice of Canada. In Canada, he died in 1793.
While still a very young man, he gave great attention to
the legal and political records of his native province,—an
experience that led him to write a “History of New York,
from the First Discovery to the Year 1732.” This work,
which was first published in London, in 1757," is a strong
and clear piece of work, with the tone of a scholar and a
gentleman, somewhat dashed by provincialism. Himself
a New York politician, and the son of one, it was not easy
for him, in dealing with the story of New York politics,
wholly to suppress his partisan prejudices; and his narra-
tive, as he admitted, “deserves not the name of a history.””
It is an able and sturdy historical pamphlet, aggravated by
vast public documents quoted in bulk. Although he be-
lieved that in his book the laws of truth had not been in-
fringed, either “by positive assertions, oblique, insidious
hints, wilful suppressions, or corrupt misrepresentations,”
and that in his writing of it he had chosen “rather to be
honest and dull than agreeable and false,” “he was charged
by a contemporary, Cadwallader Colden,” with having
“wilfully misrepresented ” some things; while in our own
time, the ablest of the historians of New York, John Ro-
meyn Brodhead,” has declared that, in several instances,
William Smith gave utterance to “fabulous” statements.
In his book, it is interesting to note the tokens of Amer-
ican sensitiveness, even in that age, to the infinite and se-
rene ignorance prevalent among the people of England
* It has been several times reprinted; but the only satisfactory edition is
that published by the N. Y. Hist. Soc., in 2 vols., 1829. In this edition, the
work is brought down by the author to 1762.
* Pref. to ed. of 1814, xiv. 8 Ibid. xiv.
* N. Y. Hist. Soc. Coll. for 1868, 181. * “Hist. N. Y.” I. 44, note.
AAEAVAWS VZ VAAV/A. 225
concerning their own plantations in America : “The main
body of the people conceive of these plantations under the
idea of wild, boundless, inhospitable, uncultivated deserts;
and hence, the punishment of transportation hither, in the
judgment of most, is thought not much less severe than
an infamous death.” His portraits of the long line of
royal governors who had in succession preyed upon the
province, are drawn with the vivacity of genuine feeling;
in the ardor of his filial pride and affection, he has painted
a glowing picture of the learning and eloquence of his
own father;” and his sketches of society in New York in
his time, particularly of the steady preference there of the
pursuits of wealth to those of mere knowledge, have a
courageous authenticity, perhaps not altogether obsolete
even yet.” -
In the year 1765, was published “The History of the
Colony of Nova Caesarea, or New Jersey;” the author
being Samuel Smith, an honest, solid Quaker, a native of
the region that he wrote about, himself then forty-five
years old. His book is a dry, ponderous performance, a
compilation of dull documents and dull facts; the whole
written, doubtless, with great patience, and only to be read
by an abundant exercise of the same virtue.
2. PENNSYLVANIA.
I.
A sagacious English student of American history has
said that “the most remarkable of the American colonies
after the New England group, is Pennsylvania.”* In spite
of all outward differences, of all mutual dislikes, there was
an inward kinship between the Quakers of Pennsylvania
and the Puritans of New England. “I came for the Lord's
* “Hist. of N. Y.” ed. of 1814, Pref. ix. * Ibid. ed. of 1829, II. 48–50.
* Ibid. I. 328, 367; II. 3, 282,384.
* Goldwin Smith, “On the Foundation of the American Colonies,” 26.
VOL. II.-I5
226 HISTORY OF AMERICAAV ZATERA TURE.
sake,” said William Penn, in 1682." “Our business here
in this new land,” said one of the first Pennsylvanians, “is
not so much to build houses, and establish factories, and
promote trade and manufactures that may enrich our-
Selves, . . . as to erect temples of holiness and righteous-
ness, which God may delight in ; to lay such lasting foun-
dations of temperance and virtue, as may support the
superstructures of our future happiness, both in this and
the other world.”” - Á
The society that these men founded in Pennsylvania
was, of course, serious, laborious, economic, monotonous,
prim, especially pained by the pleasures of existence.
Thomas Chalkley abhorred music as a thing “of evil con-
sequence; ” he denounced cards “as engines of Satan; ”
and of dancing he said, that “as many paces or steps as
the man or woman takes in the dance, so many paces or
steps they take toward hell.” "
On the other hand, William Penn was a man of great
intellectual foresight, and swayed by a passion to be
both just and humane; and he began by inoculating his
young commonwealth with the idea of civic generosity:
“We have, with reverence to God and good conscience to
men, to the best of our skill contrived and composed the
frame of this government to the great end of all govern-
ment, to support power in reverence with the people,
and to secure the people from the abuse of power.””
“Whoever is right,” said he, “the persecutor must be
wrong.”" From the beginning, a part of the fundamental
law of Pennsylvania was the law of liberty for the souls of
men. Through every turnpike in that province, ideas
travelled toll-free.
But were there, in that province, any ideas inclined to
travel? The founder of Quakerism, being himself able to
1 R. Proud, “Hist. Pa.” I. 210.
* Given in J. W. Leeds, “A Hist. U. S.” 212–213.
* T. Chalkley, Works, 4. *J. Grahame, “Hist. U. S.” I. 506.
* W. Hepworth Dixon, “Wm. Penn,” etc. 52.
ZZZTEACA 7"URAE ZAV AAEAVAWS VZ VA AVZ.A. 227
get all necessary wisdom by the facility of an inward
flash, quite naturally despised those who had to get it by
the slow process of study; he despised books, also, and
schools; and he declared that “God stood in no need of
human learning.”.” William Penn, however, and many of
his associates in the settlement of Pennsylvania, had never
yielded to that barbaric mood of their religious teacher;
and being themselves men of considerable learning,” they
at once devised means for the spread of learning among
others. “Before the pines had been cleared from the
ground,” they “began to build schools and set up a print-
ing-press.” ” It was their noble ambition, “inter silvas
quaerere verum.” “ The first school in Pennsylvania was
founded during the first year of the existence of Pennsyl-
vania; and in the sixth year of its existence, there was in
Philadelphia an academy at which even those who had no
money, might get knowledge without price.
The first impulse to the production of any sort of litera-
ture in Pennsylvania was given by a desire to publish
through the world the advantages of that commonwealth.
Very soon, the fierceness of religious controversy set other
pens to work,+though with results too crude and too
brutal to be called literature. Science, also, and the slave-
ry-question, and the Indian-question prompted others to
write. Near the end of the first quarter of the eighteenth
century, about the time that Benjamin Franklin com-
menced his career there, Philadelphia, though still domi-
nated by the Quakers, had become the seat of a large
population who were not Quakers; it had something of
the liberal tone of a metropolis, where men of cultiva-
tion, of vivacity, of literary aptitude, had begun to realize
W. Hepworth Dixon, ºwn. Penn,” etc. 53.
*Job R. Tyson, “The Social and Intellectual State of the Colony of Pa.
prior to the year 1743,” 46.
8 W. Hepworth Dixon, “Wn. Penn,” etc. 207.
* T. I. Wharton, “The Prov, Lit. of Pa.,” in Pa. Hist, Soc, Mem. I. Io9.
228 AZSTORY OF AMER/CAAV ZAZTERA 7TURE.
the presence of one another, and of a common literary
purpose. By the close of the colonial age, Philadelphia
had grown to be the centre of a literary activity more
vital and more versatile than was to be seen anywhere
else upon the continent, except at Boston. In the ancient
library of Philadelphia, there are “four hundred and twen-
ty-five original books and pamphlets that were printed in
that city before the Revolution.””
II.
In 1681, in the first ship that sailed from England to the
great American province of William Penn, was the pleas-
ant Quaker, Gabriel Thomas, who, for the next seventeen
years, lent a strong and willing hand to the task of build-
ing up there a generous drab commonwealth ; and who re-
turning to England in 1698, probably for a brief visit, car-
ried with him and published in London, in that year, “An
Historical and Geographical Account of the Province and
Country of Pennsylvania and of West New Jersey.” The
book, which is written with Quaker-like frankness and sim-
plicity, and with an undercurrent of playfulness not exactly
Quaker-like, is full of information for the guidance of the
poor in the old world to a good refuge in the new ; and in the
author's opinion, no better spot could be found anywhere
along the vast American coast than that happily obtained
by William Penn: “For though this country has made
little noise in story or taken up but small room in maps, yet,
. . . the mighty improvements . . . that have been made
lately there, are well worth communicating to the public.
. . . This noble spot of earth will thrive exceedingly.”
“The air here is very delicate, pleasant, and wholesome;
the heavens serene, rarely o'ercast, bearing mighty resem-
blance to the better part of France.” In delineating the
1 T. J. Wharton, “The Prov. Lit. of Pa.” 124. * Preface.
* “Account,” etc. 7. - -
GABAe/EZ 7"HOMAS, 229
natural characteristics of the country, he passes now and
then into a semi-facetious intensity, into a droll largeness
of statement, from which even the demureness of his sect
did not save him, and which thus early show themselves
as traits of American humor; saying, for example, that the
bullfrog in Pennsylvania “makes a roaring noise hardly to
be distinguished from that well known of the beast from
whom it takes its name.” His pictures of the new social
conditions formed there, have elements of uncommon at-
tractiveness; as when he remarks: “Of lawyers and phy-
sicians I shall say nothing, because this country is very
peaceable and healthy. Long may it so continue, and
never have occasion for the tongue of the one nor the pen
of the other, both equally destructive of men's estates and
lives.”” -
Once again, also, we catch in this book the tender Amer-
ican note of sympathy with men and women in Europe
who have a hard lot there; a cheery voice from this side
of the Atlantic sounding out clear above the countless
laughter of its billows, and telling all who need a new
chance in life that at last they can have it: “Reader, what
I have here written is not a fiction, flam, whim, or any
sinister design, either to impose upon the ignorant or cred-
ulous, or to curry favor with the rich and mighty; but in
mere pity and pure compassion to the numbers of poor
laboring men, women, and children in England—half-
starved visible in their meagre looks—that are continually
wandering up and down, looking for employment without
finding any, who here need not lie idle a moment, nor want
due encouragement or reward for their work, much less
vagabond or drone it about. Here are no beggars to be
seen, . . . nor, indeed, have any here the least occasion or
temptation to take up that scandalous lazy life.” "
A desire to bear public testimony to the delights and
benefits of life in Pennsylvania, took possession of several
1 “Account,” etc. I6. - * Ibid. 32. * Ibid. 44–45.
23O AZS 7'ORY of AMER/CAM/ ZY 7'EPA 7"URE.
others among its first inhabitants; and unfortunately, in
Some cases, this testimony sought utterance in verse.
Thus, Richard Frame, probably a Quaker, published at
Philadelphia, in 1692, “A Short Description of Pennsyl-
vania; or, A relation what things are known, enjoyed, and
like to be discovered in the said province.” So, also,
John Holme, who came to Pennsylvania in 1686, and died
there about the year 1701, wrote “A True Relation of the
Flourishing State of Pennsylvania.”* Both of these works
are very slight as specimens of descriptive literature; and
as examples of verse, they scarcely rise to the puerile—
they approach the idiotic. . -
A piece of narration and description, happily in honest
prose, and having the merit of being uncommonly interest-
ing, is “God’s Protecting Providence Man's surest Help
and Defence in Times of greatest Difficulty and most em-
inent Danger,” by Jonathan Dickenson, an English Quaker
of property and education, who, after some sojourn in
Jamaica, sailed thence, in 1696, for Pennsylvania, having
with him his wife, an infant child, and several negro ser-
vants. On the voyage, they were cast away on the coast
of Florida, and after suffering almost incredible hardships,
not only “from the devouring waves of the sea” but “also
from the cruel, devouring jaws of the inhumane cannibals
of Florida,” they made their way to Philadelphia. Of this
frightful and most afflictive experience, Dickenson wrote
an account, under the title already given, telling his story
in a modest, straight-forward, manly way, like a hero and
a Christian. He remained in Pennsylvania the rest of his
life, became chief-justice of the province, and died there in
1722.”
* Published in fac-simile from the copy, supposed to be unique, in posses-
sion of the Library Company of Philadelphia, 1867.
* Printed in Pa. Hist. Soc. Mem. for 1848, 161–180.
* His book was first published, in Philadelphia, in 1699; it was reprinted
in London, in 1700; an illustrated edition in Dutch was published at Leyden,
in 1710. So strong and clinging is the human interest inspired by this
JAMES LOGAAV. - 23I
III.
In 1699, when William Penn was on the point of sailing
for the second time to his province, he became deeply in-
terested in a young Irishman of Scottish descent, named
James Logan, who, though highly educated, and with
strong aptitudes for literary and Scientific pursuits, had
recently embarked in trade at Bristol. Penn saw in this
young man one whom he could safely lean upon, and
whom he greatly needed; and after urgent solicitation,
Logan gave up his own plans, and putting his fate into
Penn's keeping, went with him to America. There he re-
mained all the rest of his days; and there he died in 1751,
at the age of seventy-seven.
That second visit of William Penn to Pennsylvania
proved, also, to be his last ; and when, in 17OI, he went
on board the ship that was to carry him away from the
province forever, he wrote these words to the man whom
he had commissioned to stand there in his place: “I have
left thee in an uncommon trust, with a singular depend-
ence on thy justice and care, which I expect thou wilt
faithfully employ in advancing my honest interest. . . .
For thy own services I shall allow thee what is just and
reasonable. . . . Serve me faithfully as thou expects a
blessing from God, or my favor, and I shall support thee
to my utmost, as thy true friend.” Thenceforward, James
Logan's letters to his patron and to his patron's family,
are the letters of a man who deserved such trust; for he
served them with flawless fidelity.
His office proved to be a most laborious and vexatious
one. Year by year his troubles as Penn's agent thickened.
In 1704, he wrote to his master: “I wish thou could be
here thyself, for I cannot bear up under all these hard-
pathetic book, that even so late as 1803 it was reprinted in English, probably
for the sixth time.
* Pa. Hist. Soc. Mem. IX. 59–61.
i
:
;
.
i
232 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERA 7Urz.
ships; they break my rest, and I doubt will sink me at
last. . . . I have been so true to thee, that I am not just
to myself; and had I now a family, it would appear that
there has scarce been a greater knave in America to
another's affairs, than I have been to my own.” "
But though James Logan was through all his life thus
faithful to the proprietors of Pennsylvania, he was never
unfaithful to the people of Pennsylvania. He held in suc-
cession the leading offices in the province; from 1736 to
I738, as president of the council, he was really governor;
and while, at times, he drew upon himself great unpopu-
larity, he served the people better than they knew, in all
their highest interests, in peace and even in war.
His long life and his great influence went especially
for the public enlightenment; and in all possible ways
he helped to build up good literature in Pennsylvania.
His own intellectual accomplishments were extraordinary.
Almost from childhood he had been familiar with the
principal languages, ancient and modern ; at the age of
sixteen he began that enthusiastic study of the higher
mathematics which he prosecuted all his life; and there
seemed to be no topic in science or literature that did not
have his attention. He carried on an extensive corre-
spondence with the most illustrious scholars in Europe and
America; and in these letters as well as in the mass of
private papers that he left behind him, he discussed, with
originality and precision, the leading subjects that then
engaged the minds of learned men. “Sometimes Hebrew
or Arabic characters and algebraic formulas roughen the
pages of his letter-books. Sometimes his letters convey a
lively Greek ode to a learned friend; and often they are
written in the Latin tongue.”” -
The larger part of his writings still remain unprinted;
1 Pa. Hist. Soc. Mem. IX. 325.
* J. F. Fisher, in Sparks's ed. of Works of Franklin, VII. 24–27, note. For
my account of the unpublished writings of Logan, I depend chiefly on J. F.
Fisher, as above; and on J. F. Watson, “Annals of Phila.” I. 523-526.
& 6 O ©
:* - 5 G
• X • e
& O
:
:
WILLIAM SMITH. . 233
but during his lifetime were published, besides several
Latin treatises by him upon scientific subjects, his “Trans-
lation of Cato's Distichs into English Verse,” and his more
celebrated translation of “M. T. Cicero's Cato Major; or,
Discourse on Old Age,”—works that not only denoted his
own elegant literary taste, but also tended to develop.
such taste in others. His correspondence with the Penn
family, from 17OO to 1750, has been recently made public;"
and though much of it is taken up with uninteresting
details respecting business and politics, it is also a great
storehouse of information respecting men and manners in
Pennsylvania during that period. Everywhere this cor-
respondence reveals the carefulness and the intellectual
breadth of James Logan; and occasionally one finds in it
a passage of general discussion, in which the clear brain
and the noble heart of the writer utter themselves in lan-
guage of real beauty and force.”
IV.
In 1751, the very year in which James Logan died, there
came to America another man of the same Scottish stock,
and of the same Scottish vigor for various intellectual
work, who, in the middle colonies, and especially in Penn-
sylvania, was to carry forward, during the second half of
the eighteenth century, many of the wholesome scientific
and literary influences with which the life of James Logan
had been identified, during the first half of that century.
This man was William Smith, born at Aberdeen about
I726, and graduated at its university in 1747. In New
York, where he spent the first two years after his arrival
in America, he found the leading men greatly occupied
with the project of founding a college there; and in the
discussion of this subject he skilfully participated by pub-
lishing “A General Idea of the College of Mirania,” a
* Pa. Hist. Soc. Mem. IX-X. * For example, ibid. IX. 226–229.
234. A/STORY OF AMER/CAM LIZEAEA 7'URAE.
sort of educational romance, written in graceful style, and
unfolding with much vigor the author's notions of what, a
college in America should be. -
A copy of the book soon fell under the eye of Benjamin
Franklin, who was, at that time, also deeply engaged in
plans for a college at Philadelphia; and was even then
looking about for some one competent to take charge of
it. Not long afterward, the ambitious young Scotchman
was invited to Philadelphia for that purpose. He im-
mediately went to England for holy orders; and returning
to Philadelphia in 1754, he entered upon his duties at the
head of the institution which, in the following year, took
the name of a college. From that time onward until his
death in 1803, William Smith, as educator, politician,
clergyman, and man of letters, was a tireless, facile, and
powerful representative in Philadelphia of the higher intel-
lectual interests of society. Under his care the little col-
lege grew apace; and by his own example as an eloquent
writer, by his enthusiasm for good literature, and by his
quick and genial recognition of literary merit in the young
men who were growing up around him, he did a great
work for the literary development of his adopted country."
V.
We find in Pennsylvania, during the first sixty years of
the eighteenth century, a succession of persons swayed
somewhat by literary inclinations, and addicted, in a small
and rather amateur way, to literary utterance, in prose or
rhyme. :
One of these persons was Jacob Taylor, who served
the public in the various capacities of school-master, Sur-
veyor, doctor, almanac-maker, and poet. His verses usually
* His most important writings in our present period were published in a
volume entitled “Discourses on Public Occasions in America,” 2d ed. Lon-
don, 1762.
A QUAZA ROSE. 235
appeared in his almanacs; and it is said " that, “in har-
mony and spirit,” some of them “nearly approached to the
poetry of standard authors.” One of his poems is entitled
“Pennsylvania; ” another, “The Story of Whackum,”
being a satire on country quacks. He died in 1736.
A man of considerable sprightliness and Social grace
was Henry Brooke, younger son of Sir Henry Brooke, of
Cheshire, for some time collector of customs in Pennsyl-
vania, and during many years a leading politician in the
province. In 1704, James Logan, in a letter to William
Penn, described him as “a young man of the most polite
education and best natural parts . . . thrown away on
this corner of the world.” His gift as a writer of smooth
and spirited verse may be seen in a little poem of his
addressed to Robert Gracie, and entitled “A Discourse of
Jests.”
Many of these small writers would have found long
since the repose in utter oblivion to which they have so
valid a claim, had it not been for such incidental mention
as is made of them by Franklin, in his “Autobiography.”
Thus, he records that, on his first arrival in Philadelphia as
a runaway apprentice, he sought employment in the print-
ing-office of one Samuel Keimer, a long-bearded, semi-lit-
erary, very mystical, and altogether preposterous adven-
turer, whom he found engaged in putting into type an
elegy composed by the printer himself, on one Aquila
Rose, also a printer and poet, who had but recently died.
The latter was of English birth and education ; and after
his death, at the age of twenty-eight, “many of his best
pieces” were loaned by his widow to her friends, and in
consequence were lost; but in 1741, such of his verses as
could then be obtained were collected by his son, Joseph
Rose, and published in a pamphlet, under the title of
“Poems on Several Occasions.” -
-º-me
1 By J. F. Fisher, “Early Poets and Poetry of Pa.” 67.
* Pa. Hist. Soc. Mem. IX. 311. $ -
* A fragment of it is in R. W. Griswold's “Poets and Poetry of Am,” 22.
*
236 AISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERA TURE.
James Ralph, probably born in America and near the
beginning of the eighteenth century, was another of that
group of witlings and poetasters whose names are strung
like glass beads upon the thread of Franklin's story of his
own early career in Philadelphia. At the time of Frank-
lin's first appearance upon the scene, Ralph was a young
fellow of fine appearance, glib tongue, poetic aspirations,
and superficial accomplishments. In 1724, he resolved
to give the British metropolis the benefit of his talents.
Being then encumbered with a wife and a young child, but
not with a conscience, he quietly abandoned the former,
and with Franklin for a companion, went to London as a
literary adventurer, where, with sharp alternations of pov-
erty and prosperity, he remained the rest of his life, a pro-
lific and notorious literary hack; emitting with incontinent
speed political pamphlets, newspaper articles, odes, epics,
plays, satires, and histories; achieving the ludicrous im-
mortality of a niche in Pope's pantheon of dunces;" and
honored long after his death by the strong applause of
Charles James Fox.” From the moment of his first arrival
in London, however, Ralph succeeded so perfectly in cast-
ing off all topics that were connected with his native coun-
try and in taking on all those themes and modes that
were peculiar to a London Bohemian, that his remarkable
career as a writer seems to have no significance in relation
to American literature. We cordially surrender him, there-
fore, to the exclusive possession of our English kinsmen.
On Franklin's return from the expedition that he had
made to London in the company of James Ralph, he found
in Keimer's printing-office, “in the situation of a bought
servant,” one George Webb, “an Oxford scholar,” and a
native of Gloucester, England, who, having run away from
college and fallen into distress in London, had obtained
passage to Philadelphia on condition of doing four years'
* “The Dunciad,” Book III. 164–165.
* See Allibone's “Dict, of Authors,” II. 1731.
GEORGE WAZAB. 23 7
service after his arrival there. “He was lively, witty,
good-natured, and a pleasant companion, but idle, thought-
less, and imprudent to the last degree.” He had a smat-
tering of knowledge and some cleverness at verse-making;
and having made his way into respectable Society, he ap-
pears to have attracted considerable local attention by the
merry little poems that he dashed off frequently enough.
One of these is a poem of about a hundred lines, published
by Franklin in 1736, and entitled “Bachelors' Hall.” The
name of the poem was that of a famous club-house built in
the fields in Kensington by a set of Philadelphia bachelors,
and long held in ill repute as the supposed seat of glutton-
ous and lascivious revels.” Webb's poem was an effort to
placate public opinion, on behalf of the offending edifice:
“Say, goddess, tell me, for to thee is known
What is, what was, and what shall e'er be done,
Why stands this dome erected on the plain 2
For pleasure was it built, or else for gain P
For midnight revels was it ever thought?
Shall impious doctrines ever here be taught 2
Or else for nobler purposes designed,
To cheer and cultivate the mind,
With mutual love each glowing breast inspire,
Orcherish friendship's now degenerate fire 2
Tired with the business of the noisy town,
The weary bachelors their cares disown;
For this loved seat they all at once prepare,
And long to breathe the sweets of country-air.
'Tis not a revel or lascivious night
That to this hall the bachelors invite ;
Much less shall impious doctrines here be taught,
Blush, ye accusers, at the very thought !
For other, oh, for other ends designed,
To mend the heart and cultivate the mind.
* “Life of Franklin,” etc., ed. by John Bigelow, I. 171-173.
*J. F. Watson, “Annals of Phila.” I. 432–433.
238
HISTORY OF AMERICAN LIZERATURE.
Mysterious nature here unveiled shall be,
And knotty points of deep philosophy.
But yet sometimes the all-inspiring bowl
To laughter shall provoke and cheer the soul ;
The jocund tale to humor shall invite,
And dedicate to wit a jovial night:
Not the false wit the cheated world admires,
The mirth of sailors, nor of country squires;
Nor the gay punster's, whose quick sense affords
Naught but a miserable play on words;
Nor the grave quidnunc's, whose enquiring head
With musty scraps of journals must be fed;
But condescending, genuine, apt, and fit;
Good nature is the parent of true wit.
Then, music, too, shall cheer this fair abode—
Music, the sweetest of the gifts of God;
Music, the language of propitious love ;
Music, that things inanimate can move.
Ye winds be hushed, let no presumptuous breeze
Now dare to whistle through the rustling trees;
Thou, Delaware, awhile forget to roar,
Nor dash thy foaming surge against the shore;
Be thy green nymphs upon thy surface found,
And let thy stagnant waves confess the sound ;
Let thy attentive fishes all be nigh, -
For fishes were always friends to harmony;
Witness the dolphin which Arion bore,
And landed safely on his native shore.
Let doting cynics snarl; let noisy zeal
Tax this design with act or thought of ill ;
Let narrow souls their rigid morals boast,
Till in the shadowy name the virtue's lost;
Let envy strive their character to blast,
And fools despise the sweets they cannot taste,_
This certain truth let the inquirer know :
It did from good and generous motives flow.” 1
I. cite these lines from a reprint of the poem in Thompson Westcott's
“History of Philadelphia,” published in serial form in the “Sunday De-
spatch” of that city. - - -
PoEM IN TITAN's ALMANAC: 239
At least one more of Franklin's early literary compan-
ions must be named by us, Joseph Breintnal, “a copyer
of deeds for the scriveners, a good-natured, friendly, mid-
dle-aged man, a great lover of poetry, reading all he could
meet with, and writing some that was tolerable, very in-
genious in many little knickknackeries, and of sensible con-
versation.” When Franklin undertook to write for a
weekly newspaper, a series of didactic and satirical essays
called “The Busy Body,” he was assisted in the work by
the friendly pen of Breintnal, who, in fact, continued the
series for several months after Franklin had ceased to take
an interest in it.”
In “Titan's Almanac" for 1730 is an anonymous poem
in praise of Pennsylvania, which may interest us still, not
only as a token of the ordinary poetic manner of that time
and place, but especially for its reference to the literary
prečminence then attained, or confidently expected, on
the part of Philadelphia:
“Stretched on the bank of Delaware's rapid stream,
Stands Philadelphia, not unknown to fame.
Here the tall vessels safe at anchor ride,
And Europe's wealth flows in with every tide.
'Tis here Apollo does erect his throne;
This his Parnassus, this his Helicon.
Here solid sense does every bosom warm ;
Here noise and nonsense have forgot to charm.
Thy seers how cautious, and how gravely wise !
Thy hopeful youth in emulation rise ;
Who, if the wishing muse inspired does sing,
Shall liberal arts to such perfection bring,
Europe shall mourn her ancient fame declined,
And Philadelphia be the Athens of mankind.” 8
* “Life of Franklin,” etc. ed. by John Bigelow, I. 183.
* They appeared in “The Weekly Gazette,” beginning with February 4,
1729. It is supposed that Breintnal wrote nearly all after the eighth essay;
possibly, also, the sixth and seventh.
* I cite these lines from the poem as reprinted in “The Hist. Magazine,”
IV. 344.
24O HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE.
A daintier poetic skill was reached by a later poet of
Philadelphia, Joseph Shippen, who wrote so well that in
his case we experience the unwonted regret that he did
not write more. His most famous poem is a love-song,
“The Glooms of Ligonier,” published in 1759, and popular
for many years afterward." He also wrote some graceful
verses on seeing a portrait, painted by Benjamin West, of
a beautiful young lady. In this poem, having first extolled
the exquisite charm of the portrait itself, he is upon the
point of charging the artist with an exaggeration of the
beauty of the original:
“Yet, sure, his flattering pencil's unsincere;
His fancy takes the place of bashful truth;
And warm imagination pictures here
The pride of beauty and the bloom of youth.
Thus had I said, and thus, deluded, thought,
Had lovely Stella still remained unseen,
Whose grace and beauty, to perfection brought,
Make every imitative art look mean.” 2
About the year 1741, John Webbe published in Phila-
delphia the first of an intended series of tracts, on the
financial questions that agitated the American colonies
during many war-making and wasteful years. He entitled
his essay, “A Discourse concerning Paper-money.” The
style is compact and clear; but the literary merit of the
production is unimportant by comparison with the argu-
mentative feat that the author professes to have accom-
plished in it, namely, the demonstration of “a method,
plain and easy, for introducing and continuing a plen-
ty” of paper-money, “without lessening the present value
of it.”
In 1755, Lewis Evans, a surveyor in Pennsylvania, in
order to help the public to understand the bearings of
the strife, then waxing hot, between the English and
1 R. W. Griswold, “Poets and Poetry of America,” 24. * Ibid. 24.
.S.A.M UEZ ZXA V/ES. 24. I
the French for possession of the American continent, pub-
lished “A General Map of the Middle British Colonies in
America; ” and, at the same time, an “Analysis” of the
map, in the form of a descriptive and argumentative es-
say, written with fulness of knowledge, and rising, toward
the end, to a statesmanly view of the whole problem then
coming to a solution by the two races.
*
VI.
Probably the most brilliant pulpit-orator produced in
the colonial time, south of New England, was Samuel
Davies, born in Newcastle County, Delaware, in 1723.
His classical education was obtained chiefly at the famous
school founded by Samuel Blair, at Fogg's Manor, in Ches-.
ter County; and there, also, he pursued the study of the-
ology. He began to preach in 1746; and in the follow-
ing year, he visited Virginia, where his earnestness, his
imaginative rhetoric, and his impassioned elocution won
for him a sudden and extensive popularity. In 1748, he
accepted an invitation to settle in that colony; and during
the subsequent five years, what before was popularity
deepened into fame and a most benign influence, and filled
the whole country. In 1753, in the company of Gilbert
Tennent, he went to England to solicit aid for the College
of New Jersey. He remained there about eleven months,
having great success in his mission, and winning for him-
self high reputation as an orator. On his return, he re-
sumed his labors in Virginia. In 1759, he succeeded
Jonathan Edwards as president of the College of New
Jersey; and upon him there fell the fate of speedy death,
which, for a time, seemed to be the inevitable portion of
those who should accept that office. He died in 1761.
During his life, many of his sermons were published,
and were widely diffused. One of them, preached in Vir-
* A second ed. was published in the same year.
VOL. II.-I6
242 AISTORY OF AMERICAN ZZZTERA TURE.
ginia, in 1755; shortly after the defeat of General Brad-
dock, is remarkable for its prophetic allusion to the des-
tiny of George Washington: “I may point out to the
public that heroic youth, Colonel Washington, whom I
cannot but hope Providence has hitherto preserved in so
signal a manner, for some important service to his coun-
try.” Not long after his death, a collection of his ser-
mons was published in three large volumes; and these
have been repeatedly printed since that time.”
A glance at any page of these discourses reveals the
fact that the author of them was, above all other things,
an orator. He prepared his sermons with the utmost
care; for he “always thought it to be a most awful thing
to go into the pulpit and there speak nonsense in the
..name of God.” What he prepared, however, was meant
for the ear rather than for the eye. He had all the physical
qualifications for oratory—voice, gesture, temperament;
and in appearance he was so commanding that “he looked
like the ambassador of some great king.” As uttered by
himself, these discourses must have been vivid and thrill-
ing orations; but they suffer from the revelations of type.
The thought is often loose; the imagery is sometimes
confused; the sentences are frequently swollen into ver-
bosity.
As we read, however, some of his eloquent sentences,
for example, these from his sermon on “The General
Resurrection,”—we may easily imagine ourselves in the
presence of the orator himself, and borne away beyond
criticism, on the tide of his heroic faith and his passionate
declamation: “They shall come forth. Now methinks I
see, I hear, the earth heaving, charnel-houses rattling,
tombs bursting, graves opening. Now the nations under
ground begin to stir. There is a noise and a shaking
* “Sermons” of S. Davies, ed. by W. B. Sprague, III. Ior, note.
* One ed. is by Albert Barnes, N. Y. 1841 ; another by W. B. Sprague,
Phila. 1864.
SAMUEZ OA V/ES. , - 243
among the dry bones. The dust is all alive, and in motion,
and the globe breaks and trembles, as with an earthquake,
while this vast army is working its way through and burst-
ing into life. The ruins of human bodies are scattered
far and wide, and have passed through many and surpris-
ing transformations. A limb in one country, and another
in another; here the head and there the trunk, and the
ocean rolling between. Multitudes have sunk in a watery
grave, been swallowed up by the monsters of the deep,
and transformed into a part of their flesh. Multitudes
have been eaten by beasts and birds of prey, and incor-
porated with them ; and some have been devoured by
their fellow-men in the rage of a desperate hunger, or of
unnatural cannibal appetite, and digested into a part of
them. Multitudes have mouldered into dust, and this
dust has been blown about by winds, and washed away
with water, or it has petrified into stone, or been burnt
into brick to form dwellings for their posterity; or it has
grown up in grain, trees, plants, and other vegetables,
which are the support of man and beast, and are trans-
formed into their flesh and blood. But through all these
various transformations and changes, not a particle that
was essential to one human body has been lost, or incor-
porated with another human body, so as to become an
essential part of it. . . . The omniscient God knows how
to collect, distinguish, and compound all those scattered
and mingled seeds of our mortal bodies. And now, at the
sound of the trumpet, they shall all be collected, wherever
they were scattered ; all properly sorted and united, how-
ever they were confused ; atom to its fellow-atom, bone to
its fellow-bone. Now methinks you may see the air dark-
ened with fragments of bodies flying from country to coun-
try to meet and join their proper parts. . . . Then, my
brethren, your dust and mine shall be reanimated and
organized. . . . And what a vast improvement will the
frail nature of man then receive P Our bodies will then be
substantially the same; but how different in qualities, in
244 AZSTORY OF AMERICAAV ZAZTERA 7'U.R.E.
strength, in agility, in capacities for pleasure or pain, in
beauty or deformity, in glory or terror, according to the
moral character of the person to whom they belong! . . .
The bodies of the saints will be formed glorious, incor-
ruptible, without the seeds of sickness and death. . . .
Then will the body be able to bear up under the exceed-
ing great and eternal weight of glory; it will no longer be
a clog or an incumbrance to the soul, but a proper instru-
ment and assistant in all the exalted services and enjoy-
ments of the heavenly state. The bodies of the wicked
will also be improved, but their improvements will all be
terrible and vindictive. Their capacities will be thoroughly
enlarged, but then it will be that they may be made capa-
ble of greater misery; they will be strengthened, but it
will be that they may bear the heavier load of torment.
Their sensations will be more quick and strong, but it will
be that they may feel the more exquisite pain. They will
be raised immortal that they may not be consumed by
everlasting fire, or escape punishment by dissolution or
annihilation. In short, their augmented strength, their
enlarged capacities, and their immortality, will be their
eternal curse; and they would willingly exchange them
for the fleeting duration of a fading flower, or the faint
sensations of an infant. The only power they would re-
joice in is that of self-annihilation.” "
VII.
Upon the fascinating pages of Franklin's “Autobiog-
raphy,” one meets several times the name of an ingen-
ious and philosophical glazier of Philadelphia, named
Thomas Godfrey. It was this glazier and his family, who,
upon Franklin's return to Philadelphia after his first pil-
grimage to London, shared with the economical young
printer the space and the expense of his hired house
* “Sermons” of S. Davies, ed. by H. B. Sprague, I. 498–502.
7A/OMAS GOZ) FRAE Y. 245
99
“near the market; ” it was the wife of this glazier, who,
with much feminine diplomacy, tried to make a match
between Franklin and one of her own relations, and was
so offended at Franklin's intractableness in the affair, that
she and her family removed from his house ; again, it was
the glazier himself who, in 1744, was enrolled as “a math-
ematician" among the nine original members of the Ameri-
can Philosophical Society."
Among the children of this astute and worthy man,
was a son, likewise named Thomas, who left such proofs
of poetic genius, that his name will always have a promi-
nent place in the story of our colonial literature. The
expression of his genius, however, was inadequate; for
he had the three misfortunes — stinted education, pov-
erty, an early death. He was born at Philadelphia, in
1736. Being left an orphan at the age of thirteen, he was
soon taken from school and apprenticed to a watch-maker
—a trade that he did not like. His heart was in music,
and especially in poetry; and to these he gave whatever
time he could purloin from the business that was to him a
servitude. In 1758, having reached his majority, he be-
came a lieutenant in the Pennsylvania militia and served
through the campaign that resulted that year in the cap-
ture by the English of Fort Duquesne. In 1759, he went
to North Carolina, and remained there under engagement
as a factor for three years. At the end of that time, being
still unsettled, he made journeys to Philadelphia and to
New Providence; then returned to North Carolina; and
there, on the third of August, 1763, he suddenly died.
Two years after his death, his writings, collected and edited
by another young poet, Nathaniel Evans, were published
at Philadelphia under this title: “Juvenile Poems on Va-
rious Subjects; with the Prince of Parthia, a Tragedy.”
The poems called “juvenile,” doubtless deserve that
term. They have no original manner or matter; they are
* “Life of Franklin,” etc. ed. by John Bigelow, I. 181, 204, 276.
246 HISTORY OF AMERICAN L/7 ERA 7'O/RE.
merely tentative and preparatory; those of them that failed
to receive correction from his scholarly friends, reveal, in
their imperfect metre, false accent, and false syntax, his
own lack of scholarship. The topics are the usual ones in
the case of poetic fledglings: “A Cure for Love; ” “Ode
on Friendship;” “A Dithyrambic on Wine.” There are
also some pastorals, and as many as seven or eight love-
Songs; and besides these, an ambitious and not discredita-
ble poem in pentameter couplets, entitled “The Court of
Fancy,” obviously suggested by Chaucer and Pope.
These alone would not have gained for Thomas Godfrey
any remembrance. There is in the volume, however, a
tragedy—the first drama, probably, ever produced in this
Country—that has very considerable merit, and assures us
of the presence in him of a constructive genius in poetry
from which, very likely, great things would have come, had
the stars befriended him.
This poem is in blank verse. It is an oriental story of
love and lust, of despotism, ambition, and jealousy. A
certain king of Parthia, Artabanus, has three sons. The
eldest, Arsaces, is a military hero and an idol of the popu-
lace; he is also the object of consuming envy on the part
of the second son, Vardanes, and of loyal affection on the
part of the third son, Gotarzes. The first scene is in the
temple of the sun, and represents the joy of this youngest
son, over a great victory recently gained by the Prince Ar-
saces in a battle with the Arabians. The second scene repre-
sents the envious brother, Vardanes, and his friend Lysias,
as talking together of the rage they both felt at the suc-
cess of Arsaces and at his enormous popularity. In the
course of this conversation, it appears that Vardanes is in
love with a beautiful Arabian captive, named Evanthe,
who, however, is betrothed to Arsaces. The third scene
introduces the queen, Thermusa, who reveals to an attend-
ant her hatred of Arsaces and her desire for his destruc-
tion; likewise, her wrath at the beautiful captive, Evanthe,
with whom the king himself has fallen in love. In the
7 A/OMA.S. GODFRE V. 247 e
fourth scene, Evanthe herself appears, and talks with her
maid, Cleone, of the popular enthusiasm for her beloved
Arsaces, and of her own eagerness for his return:
“How tedious are the hours which bring him
To my fond, panting heart | For oh, to those
Who live in expectation of the bliss,
Time slowly creeps, and every tardy minute
Seems mocking of their wishes. Say, Cleone,—
For you beheld the triumph, midst his pomp,
Did he not seem to curse the empty show,
The pageant greatness—enemy to love—
Which held him from Evanthe P Haste to tell me,
And feed my greedy ear with the fond tale.”
In this conversation, while waiting for her lover, Evanthe
tells the story of her early life and of her captivity. Her
father, a high officer at court, and a great general,
“was reputed,
Brave, wise, and loyal; by his prince beloved.
Oft has he led his conquering troops, and forced
From frowning Victory her awful honors.”
One day, while
“bathing in Niphate's silver stream,
Attended only by one favorite maid,
As we were sporting on the wanton waves,
Swift from the wood a troop of horsemen rushed;
Rudely they seized and bore me trembling off.
In vain Edessa with her shrieks assailed
The heavens; for heaven was deaf to both our prayers.”
Her captor, a cruel and lustful wretch, was afterward
killed in battle by Arsaces, and thus Evanthe fell into his
gallant keeping. In this scene, hearing that other Arabian
captives had been brought in from the recent battle, she
desires to get news of her father. The fifth scene presents
the king in state, surrounded by his princes and officers,
and in the act of reproaching a brave Arabian captive,
named Bethas, who is before him in chains. To the king's
hard words, Bethas answers :
248 Aſ/STORY OF AMER/CAAV ZAZTEK’A 7TURE.
“True I am fallen, but glorious was my fall;
The day was bravely fought; we did our best;
But victory's of heaven. Look o'er yon field.
See if thou findest one Arabian back
Disfigured with dishonorable wounds !
No, here, deep on their bosoms, are engraved
The marks of honor 'Twas through here their souls
Flew to their blissful seats. Oh why did I
Survive the fatal day ? To be this slave—
To be the gaze and sport of vulgar crowds;
Thus, like a shackled tiger, stalk my round,
And grimly lower upon the shouting herd.
Ye Gods !—
KING.
Away with him to instant death.
ARSACES.
Hear me, my lord. Oh, not on this bright day—
Let not this day of joy blush with his blood;
Nor count his steady loyalty a crime;
But give him life. Arsaces humbly asks it,
And may you e'er be served with honest hearts.” "
The king grants the request of his eldest son, and
Bethas is sent to prison. Thus closes the first Act. The
second Act opens with a scene wherein the malignant
brother, Vardanes, is contriving with Lysias a plot to de-
stroy Arsaces. Their plan is to induce the king to believe
that Arsaces is intending to slay him and to win the
throne, and that the intercession of the prince on behalf
of Bethas was for the purpose of securing the help of that
great soldier. The talk of the two conspirators is by
night, and in the gloomy prison, of which Lysias has
charge; and it proceeds in the midst of a fearful storm:
“WARDANES.
Heavens ! what a night is this 1
LYSIAS.
'Tis filled with terror;
Some dread event beneath this horror lurks,
* “Juvenile Poems,” etc. 120–121.
THOMAS GODFRE Y. 249
- Ordained by fate's irrevocable doom,
Perhaps Arsaces' fall; and angry heaven
Speaks it in thunder to the trembling world.
VARDANES.
Terror indeed ! It seems as sickening Nature
Had given her order up to general ruin :
The heavens appear as one continued flame;
Earth with her terror shakes ; dim night retires,
And the red lightning gives a dreadful day,
While in the thunder's voice each sound is lost.
Fear sinks the panting heart in every bosom ;
E’en the pale dead, affrighted at the horror,
As though unsafe, start from their marble jails,
And howling through the streets are seeking shelter.
LYSIAS.
I saw a flash stream through the angry clouds,
And bend its course to where a stately pine
Behind the garden stood ; quickly it seized
And wrapped it in a fiery fold; the trunk
Was shivered into atoms, and the branches
Off were lopped, and wildly scattered.
VARDANES.
Why rage the elements 2 They are not cursed
Like me ! Evanthe frowns not angry on them;
The wind may play upon her beauteous bosom,
Nor fear her chiding ; light can bless her sense,
And in the floating mirror she beholds
Those beauties which can fetter all mankind.
LYSIAS.
My lord, forget her; tear her from your breast.
Who, like the Phoenix, gazes on the sun,
And strives to Soar up to the glorious blaze,
Should never leave ambition's brightest object,
To turn, and view the beauties of a flower.
VARDANES.
O Lysias, chide no more, for I have done.
Yes, I'll forget the proud disdainful beauty;
Hence with vain love :—ambition, now, alone,
25O A/STORY OF AMERICAN Z/7′ERA 7'U.R.E.
Shall guide my actions. Since mankind delights
To give me pain, I'll study mischief too,
And shake the earth, e'en like this raging tempest.
LYSIAS.
A night like this, so dreadful to behold,—
Since my remembrance' birth, I never saw.
VARDANES.
E’en such a night, dreadful as this, they say,
My teeming mother gave me to the world.
Whence by those sages who, in knowledge rich,
Can pry into futurity, and tell
What distant ages will produce of wonder,
My days were deemed to be a hurricane.
LYSIAS.
Then, haste to raise the tempest.
My soul disdains this one eternal round,
Where each succeeding day is like the former.
Trust me, my noble prince, here is a heart
Steady and firm to all your purposes;
And here's a hand that knows to execute
Whate'er designs thy daring breast can form,
Nor ever shake with fear.”
It is on this conspiracy, hatched by night and amid the
storm, that the plot turns. From that point, the action
moves on Swiftly; the entanglements and cross-purposes
and astute villanies are well presented; Bethas proves to
be the father of Evanthe; the conspirators nearly succeed;
they murder the king and are about to murder, Arsaces
and Bethas, and they have Evanthe in their power, when
suddenly, the youngest brother arrives with a great army.
A battle is fought in the streets of the city. Evanthe
sends Cleone to a tower to see how the contest is going,
and especially, to ascertain the fate of Arsaces. Cleone
sees a hero slain, whom she mistakes for Arsaces, and
rushes down with the dreadful news. Upon this, Evanthe
BEAV/AM/M FRANKL/M. - 25 I
takes poison; Arsaces, who has won the battle, rushes in,
and the beautiful maiden dies in his arms. At once he
kills himself; and the kingdom passes to the loyal and lov-
ing brother, Gotarzes.
The whole drama is powerful in diction and in action.
Of course, there are blemishes in it, faults of inexperi-
ence and of imperfect culture: but it has many noble poetic
passages; the characters are firmly and consistently devel-
oped; there are scenes of pathos and tragic vividness; the
plot advances with rapid movement and with culminating
force. Thomas Godfrey was a true poet; and “The Prince
of Parthia” is a noble beginning of dramatic literature in
America. -
VIII.
On the tenth of May, 1762, David Hume writing from
Edinburgh to Benjamin Franklin in London, used these
words: “I am very sorry that you intend soon to leave
our hemisphere. America has sent us many good things,
gold, silver, sugar, tobacco, indigo, and so forth; but you
are the first philosopher, and indeed the first great man of
letters, for whom we are beholden to her.” Even eight
years before that time, an eminent French scholar, in send-
ing to Franklin, at Philadelphia, the greetings of Buffon,
Fonferrière, Marty, and the other great savans of Paris,
had added this testimony, “Your name is venerated in
this country.””
Thus, before the close of its colonial epoch, America
had produced one man of science and of letters who had
reached cosmopolitan fame. Yet, within the period here
treated of, the renown of Franklin was that of a great sci-
entific experimenter, rather than of a great writer. He
had, indeed, very early in life acquired that mastery of
style—that pure, pithy, racy, and delightful diction—which
1 Works of Franklin, VI. 244. s * Ibid. I94.
252 AZSTOR Y OF AMER/CAAV ZAZTEAEA 7"O/CAE.
he never lost, and which makes him still one of the great
exemplars of modern English prose. He had, likewise,
before 1765, written many of his best productions;–
essays on politics, commerce, education, science, religion,
and the conduct of life; multitudes of wise and witty
scraps of literature for his newspaper, his almanacs, and
his friends; anecdotes, apologues, maxims; above all,
many of those incomparable letters for his private corre-
spondents, to the reading of which, since then, the whole
world has been admitted, greatly to its advantage in
wisdom and in happiness. Nevertheless, all his writings
had been composed for some immediate purpose, and if
printed at all, had been first printed separately, and as a
general thing without the author's name. In 1751, how-
ever, a partial collection of his writings was published in
London without his knowledge, the book consisting of
the papers on electricity sent by him to his friend, Peter
Collinson. But these papers, valuable and even celebrated
as they were as contributions to science, could give to the
public no idea of the various and the marvellous powers
of Franklin as a contributor to literature.
At the close of our colonial epoch, Benjamin Franklin,
then fifty-nine years of age, was the most illustrious of
Americans, and one of the most illustrious of men ; and
his renown rested on permanent and benign achievements
of the intellect. He was, at that time, on the verge of old
age; his splendid career as a scientific discoverer and as a
citizen seemed rounding to its full; yet there then lay
outstretched before him—though he knew it not—still an-
other career of just twenty-five years; in which his politi-
cal services to his country and to mankind were to bring
him more glory than he had gained from all he had done
before; and in which he was to write one book—the story
of his own life—that is still the most famous production
in American literature, that has an imperishable charm for
all classes of mankind, that has passed into nearly all the
literary languages of the globe, and that is “one of the
BEA/AMIN FRANKLIN. 253
half-dozen most widely popular books ever printed.”* It
will be most profitable for us to defer our minute study of
the literary character of this great writer, until, in a subse-
quent volume of this work, we can view his literary career
as a whole.
* John Bigelow, in “Life of Franklin,” etc. I. 26.
CHAPTER XVII.
LITERATURE IN MARYLAND, VIRGINIA, AND THE SOUTH.
I. MARYLAND.
I.—Ebenezer Cook, Gentleman—A rough satirist—His “Sot-Weed Factor”
—Outline of the poem—Lively sketches of early Maryland life—Hospi-
tality—Manners—Indians—A court-scene—Encounter with a Quaker and
a lawyer—Swindled by both—His curse upon Maryland—His “Sot-Weed
Redivivus.”
2. VIRGINIA.
I.—James Blair, the true founder of literary culture in Virginia—His coming
to Virginia—Forcible qualities of the man—His zeal for education—
Founds the College of William and Mary—First president of it—The
Commencement celebration in 17oo—His writings—“The Present State
of Virginia and the College "—His published discourses on the Sermon
on the Mount—His literary qualities—Passages from his sermons.
II.-Robert Deverley–Parentage—Education in England–Iſis study of the
history of Virginia—How he came to write it—The blunders of Oldmixon
—Reception of Beverley's book—The author himself seen in it—A noble
Virginian–A friend of the Indians—His love of nature–His style—
Humor—Hatred of indolence—Virginia hospitality and comſort—Calum-
nies upon its climate. |
III.-Hugh Jones, clergyman, teacher, and school-book maker—His “Pres-
ent State of Virginia *—Objects of the book—Its range—Its sarcasms
upon the other colonies—Its criticisms upon Virginia–Suggestions for
improvement.
IV.—William Byrd of Westover—His princely fortune and ways—His cul-
ture—Foreign travel — Public spirit — His writings—“Iłistory of the
Dividing Line”—The humor and literary grace of the book—Amusing
sketch of early history of Virginia—The Christian duty of marrying Indian
women—Sarcasms upon North Carolina—Notices of plants, animals, and
forest-life—The praise of ginseng—His “Progress to the Mines”—His
“Journey to the Land of Eden.”
V.—William Stith—Various utilities of his life—His “History of Virginia’’
—Defects of the work—Its good qualities—Bitter description of James
the First.
* 3. NORTH CAROLINA. e
I.—John Lawson—His picture of Charleston in 17oo—His journey to North
Carolina—What he saw and heard by the way—Becomes surveyor-general
254
A2A3A2AVEZEA’ COO.K. 255
of North Carolina—His descriptions of that province—Its coast—Sir
Walter Raleigh's ship—A land of Arcadian delight—The playful alligator
—A study of Indians—Amiability and beauty of their women—An ancient
squaw — A conjuror — Indian self-possession — The author's fate — His
“History of North Carolina.”
4. SouTHI CAROLINA.
I.—Alexander Garden, rector of St. Philip's, Charleston—The force of his
character—Greatness of his influence—His abhorrence of Whitefield—
His sermons and letters against Whitefield—Their bitterness and their
literary merit.
5. GEORGIA.
I.—Georgia's entrance into our literature—A conflict with Oglethorpe—The
expert and witty book of Patrick Tailſer and others—“A True and His-
torical Narrative of the Colony of Georgia’’—Outline of it—A masterly
specimen of satire—Its mock dedication to Oglethorpe.
I. MARYLAND.
I.
A VEIN of genuine and powerful satire was struck in
Maryland in the early part of the eighteenth century by a
writer calling himself “Ebenezer Cook, Gentleman.” Who
he was, what he was, whence he came, whither he went,
are facts that now baffle us. His book is an obvious ex-
travaganza; and the autobiographic narrative involved in
the plot, is probably only a part of its robust and jocular
mirth. It is entitled, “The Sot-Weed Factor; or, A
Voyage to Maryland,-a satire, in which is described the
laws, government, courts, and constitutions of the coun-
try, and also the buildings, feasts, frolics, entertainments,
and drunken humors of the inhabitants in that part of
America.”
The author pretends to be an Englishman, under doom
of emigrating to America:
“Condemned by fate to wayward curse
Of friends unkind and empty purse,_
Plagues worse than filled Pandora's box,-
I took my leave of Albion's rocks;
256 AZSTORY OF AMER/CAAW Z/7ZRA TUAEAE.
With heavy heart concerned, that I
Was forced my native soil to fly,
And the old world must bid good-bye.
Freighted with fools, from Plymouth sound
To Maryland our ship was bound.” i
After a three months' voyage, they arrived in Maryland.
Intending “ to open store,” he brought on shore his goods,
and at once the “Sot-weed factors,” or tobacco agents,
swarmed around him : -
“In shirts and drawers of Scotch cloth blue,
With neither stockings, hat, nor shoe,
These sot-weed planters crowd the shore,
In hue as tawny as a Moor.
Figures so strange, no god designed
To be a part of human kind;
But wanton nature, void of rest,
Moulded the brittle clay in jest.””
He wonders who and what they are:
“At last a fancy very odd
Took me, this was the land of Nod ;
Planted at first when vagrant Cain
His brother had unjustly slain ;
Then conscious of the crime he'd done,
From vengeance dire he hither run;
And ever since his time, the place
Has harbored a detested race,
Who when they could not live at home
For refuge to these worlds did roam;
In hopes by flight they might prevent
The devil and his full intent,
Obtain from triple-tree reprieve,
And heaven and hell alike deceive.””
He thinks it best to give an account of his entertain-
ment,
* “The Sot-Weed Factor,” I. ? Ibid. 2. 8 Ibid. 2.
A BEAVEZER COOK. 257
“That strangers well may be aware on
What homely diet they must fare on,
To touch that shore where no good sense is found,
But conversation's lost and manner's drowned.” 1
He crosses the river in a canoe; after some trouble, he
finds in a cottage lodging and rough but cordial hospi-
tality. This leads him to describe his host, the furniture,
the customs of the house, and his own futile attempts at
sleeping that night—pestered by mosquitoes and so forth.
After breakfast, he is kindly sent on his journey, and goes
to a place called Battletown. On his way he meets an
Indian :
“No mortal creature can express
His wild fantastic air and dress.
His manly shoulders, such as please
Widows and wives, were bathed in grease
Of cub and bear.””
He proceeds on his journey, discussing with his com-
panion the origin of Indians; and at last he reaches a
place where court is in session, and a great crowd of strange
people are assembled :
“Our horses to a tree we tied,
And forward passed among the rout
To choose convenient quarters out;
But being none were to be found,
We sat like others on the ground,
Carousing punch in open air,
Till crier did the court declare.
The planting rabble being met,
Their drunken worships being likewise set,
Crier proclaims that noise should cease,
And straight the lawyers broke the peace.
Wrangling for plaintiff and defendant,
I thought they ne'er would make an end on’t,
With nonsense, stuff, and false quotations,
With brazen lies and allegations;
* “The Sot-Weed Factor,” 2-3. ? Ibid. 8.
VOL. II.-I7
258 A/S 7"O.R Y OF AMER/CAAW Z1 TERA 7'URE.
And in the splitting of the cause,
They used such motions with their paws,
As showed their zeal was strongly bent
In blows to end the argument.” "
A mêlée ensues, in which judges, jury, clients and all
take a hand; and thus the court breaks up for that ses-
sion :
“The court adjourned in usual manner,
With battle, blood, and fractious clamor.” 2
The poet then describes the scenes of riot, debauchery,
fighting, and robbery that filled the next night; tells how
he lost his shoes, his stockings, his hat, and wig, how his
friend was also stripped, and how after getting supplied
anew, he and his friend rode away in disgust to the home
of the latter:
“There with good punch and apple-juice
We spent our hours without abuse,
Till midnight in her sable vest
Persuaded gods and men to rest.” "
After various other experiences, he thinks it time to sell
his wares:
“To this intent, with guide before,
I tripped it to the Eastern Shore.
While riding near a sandy bay,
I met a Quaker, yea and nay;
A pious, conscientious rogue,
As e'er wore bonnet or a brogue;
Who neither swore nor kept his word,
But cheated in the fear of God ;
And when his debts he would not pay,
By Light Within he ran away.” “
By this drab scoundrel the poet is basely swindled; and
in his rage he goes to a lawyer, who was also a doctor,
- “an ambidexter quack
Who learnedly had got the knack
! “The Sot-Weed Factor,” 12. *Ibid. 13. * Ibid. I5. “Ibid. 18.
A BAEAVEZER COOK. 259
Of giving glisters, making pills,
Of filling bonds, and forging wills,
And with a stock of impudence,
Supplied his want of wit and sense;
With looks demure amazing people;
No wiser than a daw in steeple.”
To this versatile gentleman the poet offers a great fee:
“And of my money was so lavish,
That he'd have poisoned half the parish,
And hanged his father on a tree,
For such another tempting fee.”"
In the litigation which followed, the author is cheated
by his lawyer even worse than he had been by the Quaker;
and at last, mad with rage, he hurries away from the coun-
try, leaving this curse upon it as his legacy:
“May cannibals, transported over sea,
Prey on these shores as they have done on me;
May never merchant's trading sails explore
This cruel, this inhospitable shore;
But left abandoned by the world to starve,
May they sustain the fate they well deserve.
May they turn savage ; or, as Indians wild,
From trade, converse, and happiness exiled,
Recreant to heaven, may they adore the sun,
And into pagan superstitions run,
For vengeance ripe;
May wrath divine then lay these regions waste,
Where no man's faithful, and no woman's chaste.””
This work was published in London, a quarto of twen-
ty-one pages, in 1708.” Twenty-two years afterward, a
writer, professing to be the same rough satirist, published at
Annapolis another poem, entitled “Sot-Weed Redivivus;
or, The Planter's Looking-Glass, in burlesque verse, calcu-
lated for the meridian of Maryland,”—a quarto of twenty-
* “The Sot-Weed Factor,” 19. * Ibid. 20–21.
* Reprinted in 1866 in “Shea's Early Southern Tracts,” edited by Brantz
Mayer, who says that the poem was reprinted at Annapolis in 1731, with an
additional poem on Bacon's Rebellion.
26o Aff/S 7'OA’ V OA' A MAZAC/CAAV ZATAERA 7"UA’A.
eight pages. The first poem has, indeed, an abundance of
filth and scurrility, but it has wit besides; the second poem
lacks only the wit.
2. VIRGINIA.
I.
Probably no other man in the colonial time did so much
for the intellectual life of Virginia, as did the sturdy and
faithful clergyman, James Blair, who came into the colony
in 1685, and who died there in 1743, having been a mission-
ary of the Church of England fifty-eight years, the commis-
sary of the Bishop of London fifty-four years, the president
of the College of William and Mary fifty years, and a mem-
ber of the king's council fifty years.
Born in Scotland in 1656, and graduated at the Univer-
sity of Edinburgh in 1673, he was rector of Cranston until
the year 1682, when he went into England in the hope of
finding preferment there; but was induced by the Bishop
of London to give up his life to the service of God and of
man in Virginia.
On his arrival there, he was pained not only at the dis-
orderly and ineffective condition of the church, but at the
almost universal neglect of education. Henceforward, the
story of his life is a story of pure and tireless labors for
the rectification of both these evils. He was a man of
great simplicity and force of character, very positive, very
persistent, with an abundance of Scottish shrewdness as
well as of Scottish enthusiasm, actuated by a lofty, apos-
tolic determination to be useful to his fellow-creatures—
whether, at the moment, they liked it or not. “He could
not rest until school-teachers were in the land; ”* and he
did not rest until there was a college in the land, also.
For the latter, he toiled mightily, and with invincible
hopefulness. First, he induced the Virginians themselves
to put their names to subscriptions for a college, to the
1 Edward D. Neill, “Notes on the Va. Colonial Clergy,” 23.
JAMES BLAIR. 261
amount of twenty-five hundred pounds sterling. Next,
having secured for the plan of a college the approbation
of the colonial assembly, he crossed the ocean, and against
all official resistance gained for it the approbation of the
monarchs of England also, in whose honor the little col-
lege was named William and Mary. Then, returning to
Virginia in 1693, with a royal charter for the college and
a royal endowment, the indefatigable man laid its founda-
tions, and he served it with dauntless fidelity the next
fifty years. In the year 17OO, the Commencement was
celebrated there with much éclat: “There was a great con-
course of people. Several planters came thither in coaches,
and others in sloops from New York, Pennsylvania, and
Maryland,-it being a new thing in that part of America
to hear graduates perform their exercises. The Indians
themselves had the curiosity, some of them, to visit Wil-
liamsburg upon that occasion; and the whole country
rejoiced as if they had some relish of learning.”"
Thus, James Blair may be called the creator of the
healthiest and the most extensive intellectual influence
that was felt in the southern group of colonies before the
Revolution. Moreover, his direct contributions to Ameri-
can literature were by no means despicable. He was,
probably, the principal writer of a book upon the title-
page of which the names of Henry Hartwell and Edward
Chilton are joined with his own, and which was published
in London in 1727: “The Present State of Virginia and
the College.” It is expertly written; is neat and vigorous
in style; abounds in facts respecting the condition of
civilization in the colony at that time; and is not lacking
in the courage of plain speech: “As to all the natural ad-
vantages of a country,” Virginia “is one of the best, but
as to the improved ones, one of the worst, of all the Eng-
lish plantations in America. When one considers the
wholesomeness of its air, the fertility of its soil, the com-
* C. Campbell, “Hist. Va.” 361-362.
262 AZSTORY OF AMERICAAW Z/TERA 7TURE.
modiousness of its navigable rivers and creeks, the open-
ness of its coast all the year long, the conveniency of its
fresh-water runs and springs, the plenty of its fish, fowl,
and wild beasts, the variety of its simples and dyeing-
woods, the abundance of its timbers, minerals, wild vines,
and fruits, the temperature of its climate; . . . in short, if
it be looked upon in all respects as it came out of the hand
of God, it is certainly one of the best countries in the
world. But, on the other hand, if we enquire for well-
built towns, for convenient ports and markets, for plenty
of ships and seamen, for well-improved trades and manu-
factures, for well-educated children, for an industrious and
thriving people, or for an happy government in church and
state, and in short for all the other advantages in human
improvements, it is certainly, for all these things, one of
the poorest, miserablest, and worst countries in all Amer-
ica, that is inhabited by Christians.””
But James Blair's chief claim to remembrance in our
literary history is based upon a series of one hundred and
seventeen discourses on “Our Saviour's Divine Sermon on
the Mount,” which were twice published in London dur-
ing the author's lifetime, and which received public ap-
plause from the great English theologian, Daniel Water-
land.” In these discourses the range of topics is as wide
as that of the wonderful discourse upon which they are
founded. The thought is fully wrought out; the divisions
are sharp and formal; each discourse is short and to the
point. The tone of the author's mind is moderate, judi-
cial, charitable, catholic; he is not brilliant; his style is
smooth, simple, honest, earnest; there is no display; he
is trying to make people good. The drift of his argument
is steadily toward practical results. “An error in morals,”
* “The Present State,” etc. I–2.
* First published in London in 1722 in five vols.; republished there in
1740 in four vols., with a preface by Dr. Waterland. The work is extremely
rare in this country. I have used the incomplete copy of the second ed. in
the State Library at Albany.
JAMES BLAIR. 263
he says, “is more dangerous than a mere speculative error.
. . . It is only the practical errors, the transgressions of
morality, which our Saviour degrades into the lowest rank.
. . . Speculative errors, which have no influence on the
life and conversation, cannot be near so dangerous as those
errors which lead men out of the way of their duty. As
in a voyage at sea, the master and seamen and passengers
may chance to see several objects, and very friendly and
innocently may differ in their opinions about the names,
and natures, and colors, and shapes, and properties of
them ; and yet none of all these opinions, the most true
or the most erroneous, either furthers or hinders their voy-
age. But if they should be in an error in using a bad com-
pass, or in not knowing the tides and currents, the rocks
and shelves: if they should run rashly on the shore in the
night-time, by not keeping a right reckoning, thinking
themselves far enough from land;—these are errors of fatal
consequence, such as may endanger the ship and voyage.
Just so it is in errors of opinion.”
While he insists upon the highest excellence in outward
conduct, he shows that all moral significance attaches to the
inward state of a man: “It is the great secret of Christian
morals, which our Saviour drives at in all duties whatsoever,
and is the principal thing which distinguishes the right-
eousness of a good Christian, from the righteousness of the
Scribes and Pharisees.”” “Particularly, has Christ inter-
preted the law in a more spiritual sense, killing vice in the
seed, and strictly forbidding the feeding the very thoughts
and imaginations with it. Then, let us employ a great
part of our care in the good government of our heart and
thoughts, that when wicked fancies or imaginations start
up in our minds, or are thrown in by the Devil, we may
take care not to harbor them, but to throw them quickly
out, before they sprout out into bad resolutions and de-
signs, or ripen into wicked actions and evil habits.”
* Discourses, II. 48–49. * Ibid. III. 67. * Ibid. II. 24–25.
264 AZSTORY OF AMER/CAAV ZAZTERA 7"URE.
II.
Virginia had been in existence a hundred years before it
produced an historian of its own. This was Robert Bev-
erley, of an ancient family in England, himself born in
Virginia. His father, likewise Robert Beverley, a man of
considerable fortune at Beverley in Yorkshire, had removed
to the colony in time to become a prominent politician in
I676, acting resolutely, amid the tumults of that year, on
the side of Sir William Berkeley against Nathaniel Bacon.
The younger Beverley was sent to England for his educa-
tion ; and early in life seems to have been employed by
his father and an elder brother as assistant in charge of the
colonial records. This circumstance turned his thoughts
toward the study of his country's history." Happening to
be in London in 1703, his bookseller told him of a new
work just then in press, Oldmixon's “British Empire in
America,”—and gave him for inspection, the sheets relat-
ing to Virginia and Carolina. These sheets the young
Virginian began to read, with his pen in hand for the pur.
pose of jotting down any corrections that might be neces-
sary; but he soon gave up that task in despair, the new
book being quite beyond the reach of correction. Prompted
by this experience, and having with him his own memo-
randa of studies upon the subject, Beverley at once un-
dertook to write a history of his native colony. This was
first published in London, in 1705; was published in a
French translation, both at Paris and at Amsterdam, in
1707; and was brought out in London in a second Eng-
lish edition, much enlarged and improved, in 1722.”
The traits of the man confront us on every page of this
book. He had large wealth in lands, in houses, and in slaves,
high social position, intense affection for Virginia, a sturdy
pride in it; and he was as independent in mind as he was
* Pref. to “Hist. Va.” xvii.
* Reprinted in 1855 at Richmond, with introduction by Charles Campbell.
A’OAPA2AE 7" BAE VAZAºA. Y. 265
in circumstances. The robust virtues—simplicity, thrift,
industry, enterprise, economy—had not died out of him in
the soft air of Virginia. He lived upon his great estate with
Spartan plainness;' and in his book he never misses the op-
portunity of rasping his countrymen for their luxury, their
supineness, and the indolent use they were making of the
overflowing bounties of nature. He gives first the history
of the colony, then an account of the country itself, then a
description of the Indians, finally a picture of the political
and industrial condition of the colony in his own time.
He writes not like a book-man or a theorist, but like a
country-gentleman and a man of affairs. He speaks out
plainly what he thinks; he has respect to limits, never
loses himself in pedantries or long stories; he interprets all
things, past and present, with shrewd, practical sense. In
his style there is no flavor of classical study, or even of
modern letters; yet it has the promptness, lucidity, and
raciness of real talk among educated men of the world.
It continues to be interesting. In some places, his history
degenerates into a partisan pamphlet; for he inherited his
father's hate of the Virginia governors, Lord Culpepper
and the Earl of Effingham,_having also a plenty of hate
on his own account for Francis Nicholson. He is not
heedless of accuracy; yet he has not a few errors. He
knew the Indians well: in fact, in his first edition he iden-
tified himself with them by playfully calling himself an
Indian; and the portion of his book devoted to them is
written with love of the subject and full mastery of it.
All his notices of natural objects also, are sharp and full.
His eye was quick to see the characteristics of all sorts of
dumb creatures, in the midst of whose haunts he passed his
manly life; as may be illustrated in his graphic and amus-
ing stories of the snake in the act of charming and Swal-
lowing a hare,” and of the fish-hawk pursued by a bald eagle.”
* Descriptions of his home in 1715 may be read in James Fontaine's “Me-
moirs of a Huguenot Family,” 265.
* “Hist. Va.” 245–246. * Ibid. I2I.
266 A/STORY OF AMER/CAM ZZZTERA 7'UA'A.
The whole work is fresh, original; not weighed down
by documents; the living testimony of a proud and gen-
erous Virginian. Without apparent effort, he often hits
upon strong and happy phrases, as when he speaks of “the
almighty power of gold'—anticipating the more famous
expression of Washington Irving. There is a tonic enjoy-
ment in his under-flavor of humor and in his crisp sar-
casms. He expresses a sort of contemptuous surprise at
the “prodigious phantasms ” with respect to Virginia,
which he found cherished among the English; as, “that
the servants in Virginia are made to draw in cart, and
plough as horses and Oxen do in England, and that the
country turns all people black who go to live there.”" As
to his own country, he has a smile of quiet ridicule for its
military development: “The militia are the only standing
forces in Virginia. They are happy in the enjoyment of
an everlasting peace, which their poverty and want of
towns secure to them.”” But if their military power was
small, their hospitality certainly was not small; and he
speaks of it with satisfaction: “The inhabitants are very
courteous to travellers, who need no other recommenda-
tion but the being human creatures. A stranger has no
more to do but to inquire upon the road where any gentle-
man or good housekeeper lives; and there he may depend
upon being received with hospitality. This good nature is
so general among their people, that the gentry when they
go abroad order their principal servant to entertain all
visitors with everything the plantation affords. And the
poor planters who have but one bed will often sit up, or
lie upon a form or couch all night, to make room for a
weary traveller to repose himself after his journey. If there
happen to be a churl that, either out of covetousness or
ill nature, won't comply with this generous custom, he has
a mark of infamy set upon him, and is abhorred by all.””
The author exults in the fact that “nobody is poor enough
1 ** Hist. Va.” Pref. xvii. * Ibid. 217. * Ibid. 258.
A’OAAEA 7" BAE VAFAE/CAE. Y. 267
to beg or want food; ” but checks himself with the con-
fession, that “they have abundance of people that are
lazy enough to deserve it. I remember the time when
five pounds was left by a charitable testator to the poor
of the parish he lived in ; and it lay nine years before
the executors could find one poor enough to accept of
this legacy; but at last it was given to an old woman.” "
When he thinks of the charms of the climate of Virginia,
he is indignant at the calumnies heaped upon it by those
English merchants who had visited it, but who, with
insular obstinacy, persisted there in all the habits that
they were used to in a very different climate: “Many of
the merchants and others that go thither from England,
make no distinction between a cold and hot country; but
wisely go sweltering about in their thick clothes all the sum-
mer, because forsooth they used to do so in their northern
climate; and then unfairly complain of the heat of the
country. They greedily surfeit with their delicious fruits,
and are guilty of great intemperance therein, through the
exceeding plenty thereof, and liberty given by the inhab-
itants; by which means they fall sick, and then unjustly
complain of the unhealthiness of the country. In the
next place, the sailors, for want of towns there, were put
to the hardship of rolling most of the tobacco a mile or
more to the water-side; this splinters their hands some-
times, and provokes them to curse the country. Such ex-
ercise and a bright Sun made them hot, and then they
imprudently fell to drinking cold water, or perhaps new
cider, which in its season they found in every planter's
house; or else they greedily devour the green fruit and
unripe trash they met with, and so fell into fluxes, fevers,
and the bellyache; and then, to spare their own indiscre-
tion, they in their tarpaulin language cry, God d-n the
country.””
1 “Hist, Va.” 223. * Ibid. 24.I.
268 AZSTORY OF AMERICAN ZZTERA 7"URAE.
III.
In 1724, there came out in London a book of a hundred
and fifty-one pages, entitled “The Present State of Vir-
ginia.” Its author was a Virginia clergyman, Hugh Jones,
born in England, but naturalized in the new world by a
life of versatile and energetic usefulness there; rector of
Jamestown, mathematical professor in William and Mary
College, and chaplain to the colonial assembly. He was
one of the earliest Americans to appease the demand for
elementary text-books in our schools, serving well the
advancing generations by his “English Grammar,” his
“Accidence to Mathematics,” and his “ Accidence to
Christianity.” His book on Virginia, which appears to
have been published during some visit of the author to
the mother-country, evidently had a philanthropic inten-
tion. He sets forth the condition of Virginia up to latest
dates, in the hope of arousing and directing a more intel-
ligent coöperation in England with the efforts of good
men in the new world who were trying to build up there a
prosperous and benign commonwealth. His book is that
of an earnest, downright, and rather original man, intent
on getting some good done in his part of the world, and
having clear views as to the methods of doing it. He
describes frankly the sort of material then extant in Vir-
ginia to make a nation of Indians, negroes, Englishmen ;
its next door neighbors, also—the North Carolinians and
the Marylanders; likewise, the schemes he had formed for
promoting learning, religion, and trade in those regions.
It is a book of solid facts and solid suggestions, written in
a plain, positive style, just sufficiently tinctured with the
gentlemanly egotism of a Virginian and of a Churchman.
His eulogiums upon his adopted colony are not incapa-
ble of a sarcastic edge when turned toward the other col-
onies in America: “If New England be called a receptacle
of dissenters, and an Amsterdam of religion, Pennsylvania
Aſ UGH JONES. 269
the nurse of Quakers, Maryland the retirement of Roman
Catholics, North Carolina the refuge of runaways, and
South Carolina the delight of buccaneers and pirates, Vir-
ginia may be justly esteemed the happy retreat of true
Britons and true Churchmen.” " -
Yet he is nowhere blind to the blemishes of his own
noble colony and its people; he particularly sees its weak-
ness in the great matters of popular education, individual
discipline, public spirit, industry, and the like. The Vir-
ginians themselves, he tells us, “have good natural notions
and will soon learn arts and Sciences; but are generally
diverted, by business or inclination, from profound study
and prying into the depth of things. . . . Through their
quick apprehension they have a sufficiency of knowledge
and fluency of tongue, though their learning for the most
part be but superficial. They are more inclinable to read
men by business and conversation, than to dive into books.”
“As for education, several are sent to England for it.”
“The common planters, leading easy lives, don't much
admire labor or any manly exercise except horse-racing,
nor diversion except cock-fighting. . . . This easy way of
living and the heat of the summer makes some very lazy,
who are then said to be climate-struck.” “They are such
lovers of riding, that almost every ordinary person keeps
a horse; and I have known some spend the morning in
ranging several miles in the woods to find and catch their
horses, only to ride two or three miles to church, to the
court-house, or to a horse-race.””
He laments the poverty and consequent ineffectiveness
of the College of William and Mary: “For it is now a
college without a chapel, without a scholarship, and with-
out a statute; there is a library without books, compara-
tively speaking; and a president without a fixed salary
till of late.” 8
* “The Present State of Va.” 48, * Ibid. 44, 45, 48, 49.
* Ibid. 83,
270 A/STORY OF AMERICAAV ZAZTERA 7"UAEA2.
He makes valuable suggestions for the religious improve-
ment of Virginia, and draws portraits of the sort of clergy-
men who are needed there: not “quarrelsome and litigious
ministers who would differ with their parishioners about
insignificant trifles,” nor “mere scholars and stoics,” nor
“zealots too rigid in outward appearance,” but pure, de-
vout, sensible, and friendly men, fitted to deal success-
fully with a warm-hearted and high-spirited people who
“are for moderate views neither high nor low,” and who
“never refuse to shout,
“God bless the church, and George its defender,
Convert the fanatics, and balk the Pretender.” I
IV.
Perhaps the most accomplished and the wittiest Vir-
ginian of the colonial time was William Byrd of Westover,
a man of princely fortune and of princely ways. He was
born in the colony in 1674, and died there in 1744. His
father, having the same name, had come to Virginia in
early life; had founded a great estate there; during the lat-
ter part of the seventeenth century, had been conspicuous
in public affairs; and finding this son to be endowed with
every personal quality corresponding to the great position
that awaited him in life, had given him the amplest train-
ing in the schools and in the society of Europe. He was
educated in England, under the particular care of Sir
Robert Southwell; “was called to the bar in the Middle
Temple; studied for some time in the Low Countries;
visited the court of France; and was chosen Fellow of the
Royal Society.” In England, he had “the acquaintance
of many of the first persons of the age for knowledge, wit,
virtue, birth, or high station, and, particularly, contracted
a most intimate and bosom friendship with the learned
and illustrious Charles Boyle, Earl of Orrery.””
1 “The Present State of Va.” 95-96. * “Byrd Manuscripts,” I. xi.
WZZZZA// A# YAC/D. 271
On returning to his native land, he entered upon a long
career of public and private usefulness. He was made
receiver-general of the king's revenues; for thirty-seven
years he was a member of the council, and at last its
president; three times he was sent as the agent of Vir-
ginia to the court of England; he founded the two famous
cities of Richmond and Petersburg; as the proprietor of
tracts of land vast enough for a royal domain, he was ac-
tive in the development of the agricultural and mineral
resources of the colony; best of all, he was “the constant
enemy of all exorbitant power, and hearty friend to the
liberties of his country.” His course in private life was
equally brilliant and attractive. On his estate at West-
over he lived in a style of great magnificence. He was a
student of science, a man of wit, of letters, of elegant
tastes; and he had “the best and most copious collection
of books” ” in that part of America.
Of course, such a man, absorbed by manifold engage-
ments, and living in a whirl of gayety and of hospitable
pleasures, was not likely to devote himself to any deliber-
ate literary work. Yet his mind was an active and fertile
one; and stirred by outward incidents, he dashed off two
or three bits of writing that have extraordinary merit,
representing the geniality of his nature, his wit, and the
facility and grace of his style.
In the early part of the year 1729, in obedience to an
appointment by the governor of Virginia, William Byrd
joined an expedition for fixing the dividing line between
that colony and North Carolina. The party consisted of
two other commissioners for Virginia, the commissioners
for North Carolina, a chaplain, several surveyors, and nu-
merous attendants and laborers. The expedition occupied
six weeks in the spring of that year; it was then aban-
doned on account of the hot weather; and being resumed
in the autumn, it occupied ten weeks more. Beginning at
* “Byrd Manuscripts,” I. xi. * Wim. Stith, “Hist, Va.” Pref. v.
272 HYSTORY OF AMER/CAAW LITERA TURE.
a point on the sea-coast, the line was run westward six
hundred miles, through the Great Dismal Swamp, through
“marshes . . . . and great waters,” “over steep hills, crag-
gy rocks, and thickets hardly penetrable.” Of the two
expeditions that accomplished this labor, William Byrd
kept a journal, which, after lying in manuscript upwards
of a century, was first published in 1841, under the title
given to it by its author, “The History of the Dividing
Line.””
In the peculiar qualities that distinguish this little
book, it is almost unique in our colonial age; and it is,
without question, one of the most delightful of the lit-
erary legacies which that age has handed down to ours.
Here we have the off-hand, daily jottings of a very clever
Virginia gentleman of the early time, who has travelled
much, read much, been long in the best company; and
who, with a gayety that will not yield to any hardship
or vexation, travels for several weeks through a wilder-
ness, accompanied by a little army of very miscellaneous
and very queer people, encountering Indians, semi-savage
whites, wild beasts, insects, reptiles, every sort of fatigue
and discomfort, the horrors and the grandeurs of nature
in its wildest state. -
As he is to record the story of a definite partitionment
from Virginia of land that once belonged to it, he begins
with a sparkling sketch of the history of Virginia up to
that time; particularly showing how all English America
was once Virginia, and how all other English colonies have
been formed by being “carved out of Virginia.” He sets
off, with much humor, the traits of the first inhabitants of
Virginia; saying that the original colony consisted of
“about an hundred men, most of them reprobates of good
1 This was then printed with other papers of Colonel Byrd under the general
title of “The Westover Manuscripts.” A more complete and a more ac-
curate publication of his writings, edited by T. H. Wynne, was made in 1866,
under the better title of “Byrd Manuscripts.”
WZZZ/AM B YR/D. - 273
families;” and that at Jamestown, “like true Englishmen,
they built a church that cost no more than fifty pounds,
and a tavern that cost five hundred.” He points out the
great mistake made by the first colonists in not intermar-
rying with the Indians: “Morals and all considered, I
can’t think the Indians were much greater heathens than
the first adventurers, who, had they been good Christians,
would have had the charity to take this only method of
converting the natives to Christianity. For, after all that
can be said, a sprightly lover is the most prevailing mis-
sionary that can be sent amongst these, or any other infi-
dels. Besides, the poor Indians would have had less rea-
son to complain that the English took away their land, if
they had received it by way of portion with their daugh-
ters. . . . Nor would the shade of the skin have been any
reproach at this day; for if a Moor may be washed white
in three generations, surely an Indian might have been
blanched in two.” ” “I may safely venture to say, the In-
dian women would have made altogether as honest wives
for the first planters, as the damsels they used to purchase
from aboard the ships. It is strange, therefore, that any
good Christian should have refused a wholesome, straight
bedfellow, when he might have had so fair a portion with
her, as the merit of saving her soul.” “
Very much of his journal, especially the earlier portion
of it, is taken up with sarcastic comments upon North
Carolina, its backwardness in civilization, the idleness,
ignorance, and poverty of its inhabitants; he heaps in-
numerable jokes upon them. Some of the people, he says,
were sunken into absolute savagery. He tells of a poor
wretch on the South Shore, “a Marooner, that modestly
called himself a hermit, though he forfeited that name by
suffering a wanton female to cohabit with him. His habi-
tation was a bower covered with bark after the Indian
fashion. . . . Like the ravens, he neither ploughed nor
1 “Byrd Manuscripts,” I. 4. * Ibid. 5. * Ibid. 5. “Ibid. 77.
VOL. II.--I8 -
274 Aſ/STORY OF AMEA’ZCAAV Z/7ZRATURE.
sowed, but subsisted chiefly upon oysters, which his hand-
maid made a shift to gather from the adjacent rocks.
Sometimes, too, for change of diet, he sent her to drive
up the neighbors' cows, to moisten their mouths with a
little milk. But as for raiment, he depended mostly upon
his length of beard, and she upon her length of hair, part
of which she brought decently forward, and the rest dan-
gled behind quite down to her rump, like one of Herodo-
tus's East Indian Pigmies. Thus did these wretches live
in a dirty state of nature, and were mere Adamites, inno-
cence only excepted.”"
He has many sarcasms on the irreligion of North Caro-
lina: “'Tis natural for helpless man to adore his Maker in
Some form or other; and were there any exception to this
rule, I should suspect it to be among the Hottentots of
the Cape of Good Hope and of North Carolina.” The
religious service held there by the chaplain of the Virginia
party, “was quite a new thing to our brethren of North
Carolina, who live in a climate where no clergyman can
breathe, any more than spiders in Ireland.”” “They ac-
count it among their greatest advantages that they are not
priestridden, not remembering that the clergy is rarely
guilty of bestriding such as have the misfortune to be
poor.” “ “One thing may be said for the inhabitants of
that province, that they are not troubled with any re-
ligious fumes, and have the least superstition of any people
living. They do not know Sunday from any other day,
any more than Robinson Crusoe did ; which would give
them a great advantage, were they given to be industrious.
But they keep so many Sabbaths every week, that their
disregard of the seventh day has no manner of cruelty in
it, either to servants or cattle.”" He suggests that, once in
two or three years, the clergy of Virginia should “vouch-
safe to take a turn among these gentiles. . . . 'Twould
* “Byrd Manuscripts,” I. 26–27. * Ibid. 43. * Ibid. 44.
* Ibid. 44. * Ibid. 44-45.
WILLIAM B YRO. 275
look a little apostolical; and they might hope to be re-
quited for it hereafter-if that be not thought too long to
tarry for their reward.”"
‘He has occasion to speak of Edenton, the capital of
North Carolina, which he describes as consisting of “forty
or fifty houses, most of them small and built without ex-
pense. A citizen here is counted extravagant if he has
ambition enough to aspire to a brick-chimney. Justice
herself is but indifferently lodged, the court-house having
much the air of a common tobacco-house. I believe this
is the only metropolis in the Christian or Mohammedan
world, where there is neither church, chapel, mosque, syna-
gogue, or any other place of public worship, of any sect or
religion whatsoever.”” In North Carolina, “they pay no
tribute, either to God or to Caesar.””
As to food, “provisions here are extremely cheap, and
extremely good; so that people may live plentifully at a
trifling expense. Nothing is dear but law, physic, and
strong drink, which are all bad in their kind, and the last
they get with so much difficulty, that they are never guilty
of the sin of suffering it to sour upon their hands.”* He
does, however, criticise their excessive use of pork: “The
truth of it is, the inhabitants of North Carolina devour so
much swine's flesh, that it fills them full of gross humors.
. . . They are commonly obliged to eat it fresh, and that
begets the highest taint of scurvy.” This disease often
develops into a worse one,—“the yaws, called there very
justly the country-distemper. . . . First it seizes the throat,
next the palate, and lastly shows its spite to the poor nose,
of which 'tis apt, in a small time, treacherously to under-
mine the foundation. This calamity is so common and
familiar here, that it ceases to be a scandal; and in the dis-
putes that happen about beauty, the Noses have in some
companies much ado to carry it. Nay, 'tis said that once,
after three good pork years, a motion had like to have been
* “Byrd Manuscripts,” I. 64. *Ibid. 59. * Ibid. 65. 4 Ibid. 60.
276 J//STOR Y OF AM/ZR/CAAW ZZZTERA 7" URAE.
made in the house of burgesses, that a man with a nose
should be incapable of holding any place of profit in the
province; which extraordinary motion could never have
been intended without some hopes of a majority.” "
He amuses himself, likewise, over the indolence of the
people. He speaks of “the Carolina felicity of having
nothing to do.”* Drones are common in North Carolina,
but they are all men; the women “spin, weave, and knit,
all with their own hands, while their husbands, depending
on the bounty of the climate, are slothful in everything but
getting of children, and in that only instance make them-
selves useful members of an infant-colony.” “ The men
“make their wives rise out of their beds early in the morn-
ing, at the same time that they lie and snore, till the sun
has run one-third of his course, and dispersed all the un-
wholesome damps. Then, after stretching and yawning
for half an hour, they light their pipes, and under the
protection of a cloud of smoke venture out into the open
air; though, if it happens to be never so little cold, they
quickly return shivering into the chimney corner. When
the weather is mild, they stand leaning with both their arms
upon the cornfield fence, and gravely consider whether
they had best go and take a small heat at the hoe, but
generally find reasons to put it off till another time. Thus,
they loiter away their lives, like Solomon's sluggard, with
their arms across, and at the winding up of the year scarcely
have bread to eat.” “
As the expedition moves westward, the author's atten-
tion is taken up by other things than the drolleries of
North Carolina society; and he jots down admirable
notices of rare plants and animals, racy sketches of Indian
character, amusing stories of forest-adventure, a learned
digression upon music, and vivacious pictures of the coun-
try through which they pass. He becomes a great enthusi-
ast over the virtues of the plant, ginseng: “Though prac-
* “Byrd Manuscripts,” I. 32–33. * Ibid. 60. ” Ibid. 41. “Ibid. 56–57.
WZZZZAM B YRA). º 277
tice will soon make a man of tolerable vigor an able foot-
man, yet, as a help to bear fatigue, I used to chew a root
of ginseng as I walked along. This kept up my spirits, and
made me trip away as nimbly in my half jack-boots as
younger men could in their shoes. This plant is in high
esteem in China, where it sells for its weight in silver.
. . . Indeed, it is a vegetable of so many virtues, that
Providence has planted it very thin in every country that
has the happiness to produce it. Nor, indeed, is mankind
worthy of so great a blessing, since health and long life
are commonly abused to ill purposes. . . . Its virtues are,
that it gives an uncommon warmth and vigor to the blood,
and frisks the spirits beyond any other cordial. It cheers
the heart even of a man that has a bad wife, and makes
him look down with great composure on the crosses of the
world. It promotes insensible perspiration, dissolves all
phlegmatic and viscous humors that are apt to obstruct
the narrow channels of the nerves. . It helps the memory,
and would quicken even Helvetian dulness. 'Tis friendly
to the lungs, much more than scolding itself. It com-
forts the stomach, and strengthens the bowels, preventing
all colics and fluxes. In one word, it will make a man live
a great while, and very well while he does live. And what
is more, it will make even old age amiable, by rendering it
lively, cheerful, and good humored.”"
Three years after these journeys across the debatable
ground between Virginia and North Carolina, the author
made another journey, of much less difficulty and of much
less public importance, the leading incidents of which he
has chronicled in some very piquant and charming memo-
randa, entitled “A Progress to the Mines.”.” In the
autumn of the following year, 1733, with a party of four
gentlemen, five woodmen, four negroes, and three Indians,
he made a journey to a vast tract of land owned by him,
near the River Dan in North Carolina. His diary of this
* “Byrd Manuscripts,” I. 161–162. * lbid. II. 41-82. . .
278 J//STORY OF AMERACAAW Z/7ZRATURE.
expedition is called “A Journey to the Land of Eden,”
the latter phrase being the somewhat ironical name of the
region referred to. Both of these narratives are full of
merriment; nearly every sentence has some jovial touch ;
and pervading all, is the perfect and ingrained gentleman-
liness of the writer. One day, he arrived at a place where
were two mills belonging to himself: “I had the grief to
find them both stand as still for the want of water, as a
dead woman's tongue, for want of breath.”* At one house
he was detained for a day or two on account of bad
weather; and in his account of the way in which he and
his friends amused themselves during their imprisonment,
by reading the second part of “The Beggars' Opera,”
which he found in that remote Virginia mansion, we catch
a glimpse of the early presence of the Queen Anne writers
even in our American forests, as well as of William Byrd's
familiar acquaintance with the current literary gossip of
London.” Continuing that journey under a promise of bet-
ter weather, he mentions his arrival at “the homely dwell-
ing of the Reverend Mr. Marij,” by “a path as narrow as
that which leads to heaven, but much more dirty.” “ Fur-
ther on, he tells how, one night, himself and another gen-
tleman, after positively declaring against it, were induced
by the ladies of the house to eat a hearty supper, upon
which he has this comment: “So very pliable a thing is
frail man, when women have the bending of him.” He was
a devout Churchman, and a faithful friend of the clergy of
Virginia; and for the latter he shows his good-will by
never missing an opportunity of playfully remarking upon
their personal and professional characteristics. Thus, of a
visit one Sunday to Brunswick church : “Mr. Betty, the
parson of the parish, entertained us with a good, honest
sermon ; but whether he bought it, or borrowed it, would
have been uncivil in us to inquire. Be that as it will, he
* “Byrd Manuscripts,” II. I-39. * Ibid. 41. * Ibid. 47–48.
*Ibid. 48. * Ibid. 67.
WILL/AM ST/TH. 279
is a decent man, with a double chin that fits gracefully
over his band, and his parish, especially the female part of
it, like him well. . . . When church was done, we refreshed
our teacher with a glass of wine, and then receiving his
blessing, took horse and directed our course to Major
Embry’s.” "
V.
WILLIAM STITH, who was born in Virginia in 1689 and
died in 1755, began late in his life to write the history of
that colony; being particularly moved to the task by
noticing “how empty and unsatisfactory" was everything
at that time published upon the subject, excepting, as he
said, “the excellent but confused materials" of Captain
John Smith.” He had been a busy person in his day,+
clergyman, master of the grammar school of William and
Mary College, chaplain of the house of burgesses, presi-
dent of the college, and man of public utility in gen-
eral. Being related to several of the most eminent fami-
lies in Virginia, and in constant association with its leading
men, he was from his youth familiar with all its historical
traditions; he had access to many rare manuscripts relat-
ing to its past; and, finally, he had won for himself “per-
fect leisure and retirement.” All things seemed to favor
his ambition to give to Virginia what it greatly needed—a
history of itself. “Such a work,” said he, “will be a noble
and elegant entertainment for my vacant hours, which it
is not in my power to employ more to my own satisfac-
tion, or the use and benefit of my country.” “ According-
ly, in 1747, he published at Williamsburg, in a volume of
three hundred and thirty-one pages, the first part of “The
History of the First Discovery and Settlement of Vir-
ginia,” carrying the narrative down only to the year 1624.
Though he lived eight years longer, this first part of his
* “Byrd Manuscripts,” II. 34. * “Hist. Va.” Pref. iii. * Ibid. iv.
28O Aſ/STORY OF AMER/CAAW Z/7ZACA 7TURAE.
history proved to be also its last part." The book is not ill-
written. It is, indeed, projected upon a scale too large for
its subject; it fills up the canvas with small incidents; it
seeks to give historical memory to the petty doings of poli-
ticians, pioneers, and savages, that carry in themselves the
necessity of being forgotten. Nevertheless, while the in-
terest of the story is often swamped in a deluge of details,
and the whole book is a sin against artistic proportion and
the limits of human life, the reader will be likely to pro-
nounce unjust the verdict of Thomas Jefferson,” who says
that Stith, though “very exact,” had “no taste in style,”
and that his writing is “inelegant.” The author founds his
work chiefly upon the narratives of Captain John Smith,
in whom he confides with a blissful faith that is now amus-
ing: “I take him to have been a very honest man and a
strenuous lover of truth.” “ The historian protests his
own impartiality: “I declare myself to be of no party, but
have labored solely with a view to find out and relate the
truth.” “ Yet his account of the early governor, Samuel
Argall, is so hostile that he has been accused of yielding
unduly to partisan documents against that personage, and
even of adding “bitter and groundless accusations of his
own.”.” Against King James the First, who vexed the
affairs of the colony by his ceaseless and senseless inter-
ference, the historian speaks with a frankness of contempt
that leaves an unwonted animation upon his pages: “If
more than a century is not enough to un-Solomonize that
silly monarch, I must give up all my notions of things.
. . . I take it to be the main part of the duty and office
of an historian, to paint men and things in their true and
lively colors; and to do..that justice to the vices and follies
of princes and great men after their death, which it is not
safe or proper to do whilst they are alive. And herein, as
1 The only other publication of his that I can hear of, is a sermon on “The
Nature and Extent of Christ's Redemption,” Williamsburg, I 753.
2 “Complete Works,” VIII. 415. * “Hist. Va.” Pref. iv.
*Ibid. vii. * 4 Mass. Hist. Soc. Coll. IX. 5, note.
WZZZZAM STY7 A. 28I
I judge, chiefly consist the strength and excellency of
Tacitus and Suetonius. Their style and manner are far
inferior to Livy's, and the writers of the Julian and Augus-
tan ages; but they have more than painted and exposed
alive to view the greatest train of monsters that ever dis-
graced a throne, or did dishonor to human nature. . . .
King James the First fell, indeed, far short of the Caesars'
superlative wickedness and supremacy in vice. He was at
best only very simple and injudicious, without any steady
principle of justice and honor; which was rendered the
more odious and ridiculous by his large and constant pre-
tensions to wisdom and virtue. And he had, in truth, all
the forms of wisdom, forever erring very learnedly, with a
wise saw or Latin sentence in his mouth ; for he had been
bred up under Buchanan, one of the brightest geniuses
and most accomplished scholars of that age, who had
given him Greek and Latin in great waste and profusion—
but it was not in his power to give him good sense. That
is the gift of God and nature alone, and is not to be
taught; and Greek and Latin without it only cumber and
overload a weak head, and often render the fool more
abundantly foolish. I must, therefore, confess that I have
ever had, from my first acquaintance with history, a most
contemptible opinion of this monarch ; which has perhaps
been much heightened and increased by my long studying
and conning over the materials of this history. For he
appears in his dealings with the company to have acted
with such mean arts and fraud, and such little tricking, as
highly misbecome majesty. And I am much mistaken if his
arbitrary proceedings and unjust designs will appear from
any part of his history more fully than from these trans-
actions with the company and colony. . . . I think and
speak of him with the same freedom and indifferency that
I would think and speak of any other man long since
dead; and therefore I have no way restrained my style
in freely exposing his weak and injurious proceedings.” "
1 “Hist. Va.” Pref, vi-vii.
282 A/STORY OF AMERICAN LITERA TURE.
A good example of Stith's descriptive manner is his
account of the dreadful massacre of the white people in
Virginia by the Indians, in 1622—a passage of genuine
dignity, pathos, and graphic power." -
3. NORTH CAROLINA.
I.
“In the year 17OO,” writes a genial and enterprising
young Englishman named John Lawson,” “when people
flocked from all parts of the Christian world to see the
Solemnity of the grand jubilee at Rome, my intention at
that time being to travel, I accidentally met with a gentle-
man who had been abroad and was very well acquainted
with the ways of living in both Indies; of whom hav-
ing made inquiry concerning them, he assured me that
Carolina was the best country I could go to, and that
there then lay a ship in the Thames in which I might have
my passage. I laid hold on this opportunity, and was not
long on board before we fell down the river and sailed to
Cowes, where having taken in some passengers we pro-
ceeded on our voyage.” Thus a very useful and notable
man found his way to the new world, arriving at Charles-
town, South Carolina, early in September, 1700. Of this
place and its people, just as they appeared to him in that
closing year of the seventeenth century, he has left us a
goodly picture: “The town has very regular and fair
streets, in which are good buildings of brick and wood;
and since my coming thence, has had great additions of
beautiful, large brick buildings, besides a strong fort and
regular fortifications made to defend the town. The in-
habitants, by their wise management and industry, have
much improved the country, which is in as thriving circum-
stances at this time as any colony on the continent of Eng-
1 “Hist. Va.” 208–2I2. * “Hist. N. C.” Introd. xi.
JoHAV ZA WSOAV. 283
lish America. . . . They have a considerable trade both to
Europe and to the West Indies, whereby they become rich.
. . . Their cohabiting in a town has drawn to them ingen-
ious people of most sciences, whereby they have tutors
amongst them, that educate their youth alamode. . . .
All enjoy at this day an entire liberty of their worship;
... it being the lord-proprietors' intent that the inhabi-
tants of Carolina should be as free from oppression as any
in the universe. . . . They have a well-disciplined militia.
. . . Their officers, both infantry and cavalry, generally
appear in Scarlet mountings, and as rich as in most regi-
ments belonging to the crown, which shows the richness
and grandeur of this colony. They are a frontier, and
prove such troublesome neighbors to the Spaniards, that
they have once laid their town of St. Augustine in ashes,
and drove away their cattle. . . The merchants of Caro-
lina are fair, frank traders. The gentlemen seated in the
country are very courteous, live very noble in their houses,
and give very genteel entertainment to all strangers and
others that come to visit them.” "
After staying in this delightful community nearly four
months, the young immigrant determined, for some reason,
to seek his fortunes in North Carolina; and on the third
day after Christmas, 17OO, he began his voyage thither
along the coast, going in a large canoe, and having in his
company five white men and four Indians. Upon this
journey, he went by sea only as far as the Santee river; he
then struck inland and wandered in zigzag fashion toward
the north, paddling up rivers or wading across them, push-
ing through highlands and morasses, among savages, ser-
pents, wild beasts, and white pioneers, and encountering
in good humor all manner of hardships and perils. This
long strain of travel in those woods, in those times, proved
altogether a revelation to John Lawson, fresh and tender
from the beatitudes of a civilized English home; and he
* “Hist. N. C.” Introd. xiii-xvii.
284 Aſ ZSZTORY OF AMER/CAM Z/ZTA:/8A 7'URAE.
had the good sense to keep a faithful record of it. He put
down on paper what he saw and experienced day by day
as he went along: mishaps, prosperities; descriptions of
the country, rivers, plants, trees, animals; their own talk
by the way; their occasional entertainment in the hovels
of white settlers and of Indians; especially such traits of
the latter as seemed to him novel, picturesque, or amusing.
He is particularly minute and facetious in his account
of the Indian women that they met; telling some broad
stories of the intrigues of his own party with these tawny
beauties, wherein the supposed distinction in morals be-
tween Christian and pagan seems to become effaced, or, if
possible, to be in favor of the pagan. At last, however,
after “a thousand miles' travel among the Indians,” he
and his associates arrived safe in North Carolina; “where,”
he says, “being well received by the inhabitants and pleased
with the goodness of the country, we all resolved to con-
tinue.”"
A man of John Lawson's intelligence was of course a
boon to that colony. He was especially useful by his
ability to survey land. Accordingly, they soon made him
their surveyor-general; and for the next twelve years he
was kept busy in that function, going in every direction
through the wilderness, and having his eyes open all the
time for information about man and nature—much of
which he carefully noted down in his journal. He had
some skill in natural history, and compiled minute descrip-
tions of birds, fishes, beasts, minerals, and the flora of the
country. The country itself, however, its beauty and fer-
tility, and the charms of its climate, bred in him an en-
thusiasm. Its coast, he tells us, in fine imagery, is “a
chain of sand-banks, which defends it from the violence
and insults of the Atlantic ocean; by which barrier a vast
sound is hemmed in, which fronts the mouths of the nav-
igable and pleasant rivers of this fertile country, and into
* “Hist. N. C.” Ios.
JOHN LA WSOAV. 285
{
which they disgorge themselves.” He gives a picture of
the spot where the first hapless colonists sent by Sir Walter
Raleigh had their fatal residence; and he adds to it this
sweet and poetic story “that passes for an uncontested
truth amongst the inhabitants of this place, . . . that the
ship which brought the first colonists does often appear
amongst them, under sail, in a gallant posture, which they
call Sir Walter Raleigh's ship.””
As to North Carolina, it is “a delicious country, being
placed in that girdle of the world which affords wine, oil,
fruit, grain, and silk, with other rich commodities, besides
a sweet air, moderate climate, and fertile soil. These are
the blessings, under Heaven's protection, that spin out the
thread of life to its utmost extent, and crown our days
with the sweets of health and plenty, which, when joined
with content, renders the possessors the happiest race of
men upon earth. The inhabitants of Carolina, through
the richness of the soil, live an easy and pleasant life; the
land being of several sorts of compost ; . . . one part bear-
ing great timbers; others being savannahs or natural
meads, where no trees grow for several miles, adorned by
nature with a pleasant verdure and beautiful flowers, . . .
yielding abundance of herbage for cattle, sheep, and
horses. The country in general affords pleasant seats, the
land, except in some few places, being dry and high banks,
parcelled out into most convenient necks by the creeks;
. . whereby, with a small trouble of fencing, almost every
man may enjoy to himself an entire plantation, or rather
park. . . . I may say the universe does not afford such
another.””
In his office of colonial surveyor he often had to live a
rough and solitary life in the far-off woods; and his ex-
perience was fruitful in adventures, instructive and amus-
ing for him and for us. Thus, in giving a description of
the alligator, he narrates this incident, which occurred at
1 “Hist. N. C.” Io?. * Ibid. Io9. * Ibid. 135–136.
286 Aſ/STORY OF AMER/CAM Z/TERA 7TURAE.
an early period of his residence in North Carolina, and
before he had become intimately acquainted with the
playful ways of that interesting monster: “This animal
in these parts sometimes exceeds seventeen feet long. It
is impossible to kill them with a gun, unless you chance to
hit them about the eyes, which is a much softer place
than the rest of their impenetrable armor. They roar and
make a hideous noise against bad weather, and before they
come out of their dens in the spring. I was pretty much
frightened with one of these once. . . . I had built a house
about a mile from an Indian town on the fork of Neuse
River, where I dwelt by myself, excepting a young Indian
fellow, and a bull dog that I had along with me. I had
not then been so long a sojourner in America as to be
thoroughly acquainted with this creature. One of them
had got his nest directly under my house, which stood on
pretty high land and by a creek side, in whose banks his
entering-place was, his den reaching the ground directly
on which my house stood. I was sitting alone by the
fireside, about nine o'clock at night, sometime in March,
the Indian fellow being gone to the town to see his rela-
tions, so that there was nobody in the house but myself and
my dog; when, all of a sudden, this ill-favored neighbor of
mine set up such a roaring, that he made the house shake
about my ears. . . . The dog stared as if he was frightened
out of his senses; nor indeed could I imagine what it was.
. . . Immediately again I had another lesson, and so a
third. Being at that time amongst none but savages, I
began to suspect they were working some piece of conju-
ration under my house, to get away my goods. . . . At
last my man came in, to whom when I had told the story,
he laughed at me and presently undeceived me.”"
Of course he had great opportunities of studying the
Indians, whom he always speaks of with a sort of gentle
liking, especially their women. Among the latter, he says,
* “Hist. N. C.” 209–2Io.
Joſſy LA WSON. 287
“it seems impossible to find a scold; if they are provoked
or affronted by their husbands or some other, they resent
the indignity offered them in silent tears, or by refusing
their meat. Would some of our European daughters of
thunder set these Indians for a pattern, there might be
more quiet families found amongst them.” “ “When young
and at maturity, they are as fine-shaped creatures . . . as
any in the universe. They are of a tawny complexion;
their eyes very brisk and amorous; their smiles afford the
finest composure a face can possess; their hands are of the
finest make with small, long fingers, and as soft as their
cheeks; and their whole bodies of a smooth nature. They
are not so uncouth . . . as we suppose them, nor are they
strangers or not proficients in the soft passion. . . . As for
the report that they are never found unconstant, like the
Europeans, it is wholly false; for were the old world and
the new one put into a pair of scales, in point of con-
stancy, it would be a hard matter to discern which was
the heavier.”” “The woman is not punished for adultery;
but 'tis the man that makes the injured person satisfaction.
. . . The Indians say that the woman is a weak creature
and easily drawn away by the man's persuasion; for which
reason, they lay no blame upon her, but the man (that
ought to be master of his passion) for persuading her to it.”
At one time he saw this prodigy amongst the Indians,—
“the strangest spectacle of antiquity I ever knew, it being
an old Indian squaw, that, had I been to have guessed at
her age by her aspect, old Parr's head (the Welsh Methu-
Salem) was a face in Swaddling clouts to hers. Her skin
hung in reaves, like a bag of tripe. By a fair computation,
one might have justly thought it would have contained
three such carcasses as hers then was. . . . By what I
could gather she was considerably above one hundred
years old, notwithstanding she smoked tobacco and eat her
victuals, . . . as heartily as one of eighteen.” “
* “Hist. N. C.” 67. *Ibid. 299. 3 Ibid. 306. “Ibid. 55.
288 AISTORY OF AMER/CAAW ZZZTERA 7"UAEA2.
He tells in another place of an interview with the king
of the Santee Indians, who came to him attended by his
conjuror, or doctor, the latter being a shrewd quack re-
markably successful, like his brethren in Christendom, in
living upon the credulity of his victims. This doctor him-
self had in former time been afflicted with a certain dan-
gerous and disreputable disease; and in order to treat
himself for it in secret, he had withdrawn into the woods,
having with him but a single companion, who was suffer-
ing from the same distemper. The conjuror succeeded in
effecting a cure for both of them, but only at the expense
of the noses of both ; and, at last, “ coming again amongst
their old acquaintance so disfigured, the Indians admired
to see them metamorphosed after that manner, inquired
of them where they had been all that time, and what were
become of their noses. They made answer that they had
been conversing with the white man above—meaning God
Almighty; . . . he being much pleased with their ways,
. . . had promised to make their capacities equal with the
white people in making guns, ammunition, and so forth;
in retaliation of which, they had given him their noses.
The verity of which they yet hold.”"
The author greatly admired the dignity and self-con-
tained power of the Indians: “Their eyes are commonly.
full and manly, and their gait sedate and majestic. They
never walk backward and forward as we do, nor contem-
plate on the affairs of loss and gain, the things which daily
perplex us. They are dexterous and steady, both as to
their hands and feet, to admiration. They will walk over
deep brooks and creeks on the smallest poles, and that
without any fear or concern. Nay, an Indian will walk on
the ridge of a barn or house, and look down the gable end,
and spit upon the ground, as unconcerned as if he was
walking on terra firma.””
The fate of this admirable observer was sufficiently
* “Hist, N. C.” 37–40. *Ibid. 281.
A ZAZ XAAVOAA’ GA R/XE/W. 289
mournful. Continuing his career as public surveyor of
North Carolina as late as 1712, he went out in that year
upon an expedition into the wilderness, in the company of
a Swiss nobleman, Baron de Graffenried, who had plans
for bringing a colony thither. They fell into the hands
of hostile Indians, who burned Lawson at the stake," and
permitted the escape of the baron only upon his payment
of a ransom. But John Lawson, though slain thus miser-
ably, had made good use of his time in the Carolinas ; and
three years before his death, he had published in London
a quarto volume embodying the story of his adventures
and observations in the new world, under the rather inapt
title of “The History of North Carolina,”—an uncom-
monly strong and sprightly book.
4. SOUTH CAROLINA.
I.
There were in South Carolina in the eighteenth century
three distinguished men of the name of Alexander Garden;
one a physician and naturalist ; another, his son, an officer
in the Revolutionary War, and the author of a book of
anecdotes respecting that contest; the third, perhaps not
related to the other two, an Episcopal clergyman, who died
in Charleston in 1756, after a service of thirty-four years as
the rector of St. Philip's in that city. This man, a native
of Scotland, came to South Carolina about the year 1720,
being then not far from thirty-five years old; and besides
* Col. Byrd, “ Dividing Line,” 174, gives a somewhat different version of
the circumstances of Lawson's death. He says that the Indians were angry
at Lawson for surveying their lands, and that “they waylaid him and cut his
throat from ear to ear.”
* Reprinted, Raleigh, N. C., 1860. A physician named John Brickell,
apparently an Irishman, and settled in the practice of his profession in N. C.,
published at Dublin, in 1737, “The Natural IIistory of North Carolina; ”
but this book is an extensive and very impudent plagiarism from John
Lawson. -
VOI.. II.-Ig
29O A/ZSZTORY OF AMER/CAAW Z/7′ERA 7'URAE.
his rectorship in Charleston, he held for the larger part of
his life the office of commissary to the Bishop of London,
for the Carolinas, Georgia, and the Bahama islands. He
was a person of extraordinary influence in his day. All
his opinions were sharply defined; and in the expression
of them he was absolutely without fear. He stood for the
authority of his church in all things; he was an austere
disciplinarian, orderly, energetic, neither taking nor grant-
ing any relaxation from the letter of ecclesiastical law.
For example, he would never perform the ceremony of
marriage in Lent, or on any fast day, or in any manner
deviating in the smallest particular from that prescribed
in the Prayer-book; for marriage-fees, he would receive
not one penny less or more than the law allowed; and
exactly one-tenth of his income was measured out with
arithmetical precision as charity to the poor."
In the year 1740, alarmed and disgusted by the proceed-
ings of the great preacher, George Whitefield, who was a
clergyman of the Church of England, Garden not only
prosecuted him vigorously in the ecclesiastical court, but
pursued him with energy and wit in the wider court of
public opinion. He preached, and then published, two
sermons entitled “Regeneration and the Testimony of the
Spirit,” based upon the text, “They who have turned the
world upside down have come hither also ; ” and referring
caustically to Whitefield as a preacher whose sermons are
“a medley of truthſ and falsehood, sense and nonsense,
served up with pride and virulence, and other like saucy
ingredients.” He likewise published a series of six letters
to Whitefield, which are sprightly and pungent, and which
the New England divine, Thomas Prince, described as
“full of mistake, misconstruction, misrepresentation, cavil,
ill nature, ill manners, scorn, and virulence.” “ Three
years afterward, in the year 1743, Garden himself reviewed
1 David Ramsay, “Hist. S. C.” II. 466–469.
* Pref. to sermons. * Catalogue of Prince Library, 26.
AZEXAAVZ)/2AE GAM&A)/2AV. 29I
the tremendous controversy, and justified his own course
in it, doing this in a letter" to a friend, some sentences of
which may sufficiently represent to us the rather tart and
spicular quality of his style. All his efforts, he says, have
been directed solely in defence of “the cause of truth
against the frantics gone forth amongst us. . . . I could
now indeed wish that my pen against Whitefield had run
in somewhat smoother a style. But had you been here on
the spot to have seen the frenzy he excited among the
people, the bitterness and virulence wherewith he raved
against the clergy of the Church of England in general,
and how artfully he labored to set the mob upon me in
particular, I dare say you would have thought the provoca-
tion enough to ruffle any temper, and a sufficient apology
for the keenest expressions I have used against him. . . .
As to the state of religion in this province, it is bad
enough, God knows. Rome and the Devil have contrived
to crucify her 'twixt two thieves, Infidelity and Enthusi-
asm. The former, alas, too much still prevails; but as to
the latter, thanks to God, it is greatly subsided, and even
at the point of vanishing away. We had here trances,
visions, and revelations both 'mong blacks and whites, in
abundance. But ever since the famous Hugh Brian, sous-
ing himself into the River Jordan, in order to smite and
divide its waters, had his eyes opened, and saw himself
under the delusion of the Devil, those things have dwin-
led into disgrace, and are now no more. Bad also is the
present state of the poor orphan-house in Georgia, that
land of lies, and from which we have no truth but what
they can neither disguise nor conceal. The whole colony
is accounted here one great lie, from the beginning to this
day; and the orphan-house, you know, is a part of the
whole—a scandalous bubble.”
* First printed in N. E. Hist, and Geneal. Reg. XXIV. 117–118.
292 A/STORY OF AMERICAN L/7′ERA TURE.
5. GEORGIA.
I.
The story usually given concerning the original settle-
ment, in 1733, of the youngest of the American colonies,
reads like a chapter from some political romance, in which
the hero, General James Oglethorpe, appears to be a com-
pound of Solon, Achilles, Don Quixote, and the Man of
Ross. The commonwealth of Georgia makes a prompt
and rather brilliant entrance into American literature, by
virtue of a little book written just seven years after the
colony was founded, - the joint production of Patrick
Tailfer, Hugh Anderson, David Douglass, and other primi-
tive inhabitants of the colony. These men, apparently of
considerable literary culture, had quarrelled with Ogle-
thorpe, and had been worsted; and having escaped to
Charleston in 1740, they continued the fight by publishing
in that year, both there and in London, an artful and
powerful book against Oglethorpe, called “A True and
Historical Narrative of the Colony of Georgia.”
Within a volume of only one hundred and twelve pages,
is compressed a masterly statement of the authors' alleged
grievances at the hands of Oglethorpe. The book gives a
detailed and even documentary account of the rise of the
colony, and of its quick immersion in suffering and dis-
aster, through Oglethorpe's selfishness, greed, despotism,
and fanatic pursuit of social chimeras. It charges his
deputy, Thomas Causton, with a long course of brutal
tyranny and cruelty, in which he was sustained by his mas-
ter. Its summary of “the causes of the ruin and desola-
tion of the colony,” contains these seven particulars,
delusive reports in England of the natural advantages of
Georgia, restrictions upon the tenure and use of its lands,
enormous quit-rents, paralysis of agriculture through Ogle-
thorpe's refusal to admit negro-labor, the cruel abuse of
authority by Oglethorpe and his subordinates, their neglect
AºA 7TRZCA 7.4/ZA'EA’. 293
of manufactures, finally, Oglethorpe's perversion of moneys
entrusted to him in Christian charity for the erection of
churches and Schools.
Whatever may be the truth or the justice of this book,
it is abundantly interesting ; and if any one has chanced
to find the prevailing rumor of Oglethorpe somewhat
nauseating in its sweetness, he may here easily allay that
unpleasant effect. Certainly, as a polemic, it is one of the
most expert pieces of writing to be met with in our early
literature. Its mastery of the situation is everywhere
maintained, through the perfect mastery on the part of
the authors, of their own temper. It never blusters or
scolds. It is always cool, poised, polite, and merciless;
and it passes back and forth, with fatal ease, between
dreadful fact and equally dreadful invective and raillery.
For example, it accuses Oglethorpe of caring more for the
prosperity of his political hobbies, than for the happiness
of his colonists : “Alas, our miseries could not alter his
views of things.” It contrasts the brave and beautiful
fictions about Georgia that were sown broadcast over Eng-
land, with the sorrowful and terrible realities: “Thus,
while the nation at home was amused with the fame of
the happiness and flourishing of the colony, ... the poor
miserable settlers and inhabitants were exposed to as
arbitrary a government as Turkey or Muscovy ever felt.
Very looks were criminal; and the grand sin of withstand-
ing . . . authority . . . was punished without mercy.” "
After spreading before the world the whole horrible story,
the book concludes with this powerful and pathetic sen-
tence: “By these and many other such hardships, the poor
inhabitants of Georgia are scattered over the face of the
earth, her plantations a wild, her towns a desert, her vil-
lages in rubbish, her improvements a byword, and her
liberties a jest, an object of pity to friends, and of insult,
contempt, and ridicule to enemies.”
! “Narrative,” etc. Pref. viii. ? Ibid. 36.
294 A/STORY OF AMER/CAM Z/7ZRA 7'URAE.
The above description of the contents of the book may
prepare the reader to appreciate the most artistic and
amusing part of it, the dedication. With exquisite mock-
ery, the book is inscribed to Oglethorpe himself. It places
his name in full at the head of the address, prefixing and
affixing all his sonorous titles, military, political, literary,
and feudalistic; it addresses him always, with feigned rev-
erence, as “your Excellency;” and it forms altogether a
most laughable burlesque upon laudatory dedications in
general, and an elegant and most caustic satire upon what
the authors call the vanity and hypocrisy of Oglethorpe
in particular. Referring to the confusion, the poverty and
wretchedness into which the colony had fallen, and veiling
this deadly meaning under the forms of utmost urbanity
and compliment, it thus salutes him: “May it please your
Excellency, As the few surviving remains of the colony of
Georgia find it necessary to present the world, and in par-
ticular Great Britain, with a true state of that province, from
its first rise to its present period, your Excellency, of all
mankind, is best entitled to the dedication, as the principal
author of its present strength and affluence, freedom and
prosperity. And though incontestable truths will recom-
mend the following narrative to the patient and attentive
reader, yet your name, Sir, will be no little ornament to
the frontispiece, and may possibly engage some courteous
reader a little beyond it.”
It then delicately taunts Oglethorpe with the elaborate
and nauseous flattery in prose and verse to which he was
accustomed, and which he seemed to encourage: “That
dedication and flattery are synonymous, is the complaint
of every dedicator, who concludes himself ingenious and
fortunate, if he can discover a less trite and direct method
of flattering than is usually practised; but we are hap-
pily prevented from the least intention of this kind, by
the repeated offerings of the muses and news-writers to
your Excellency, in the public papers. 'Twere presump-
tuous even to dream of equalling or increasing them. We
AA 7TRACK TA/LAPER. 295
therefore flatter ourselves that nothing we can advance
will in the least shock your Excellency's modesty, not
doubting but your goodness will pardon any deficiency of
elegance and politeness, on account of Our sincerity, and
the serious truths we have the honor to approach you
with.”
With the most deferential tones they then proceed to
compliment him on the principal traits of novelty in his
arrangements for Georgia, every item mentioned as an
encomium being, in fact, a thrust of deadly sarcasm: “We
have seen the ancient custom of sending forth colonies,
for the improvement of any distant territory or new ac-
quisition, continued down to ourselves; but to your Ex-
cellency alone it is owing that the world is made ac-
quainted with a plan highly refined from those of all former
projectors. They fondly imagined it necessary to com-
municate to such young settlements the fullest rights and
properties, all the immunities of their mother-countries,
and privileges rather more extensive. By such means, in-
deed, these colonies flourished with early trade and afflu-
ence. But your Excellency's concern for our perpetual
welfare could never permit you to propose such transitory
advantages for us. You considered riches, like a divine
and a philosopher, as the “irritamenta malorum,’ and knew
that they were disposed to inflate weak minds with pride,
to hamper the body with luxury, and introduce a long
variety of evils. Thus have you ‘protected us from our-
selves,’ as Mr. Waller says, by keeping all earthly comforts
from us. You have afforded us the opportunity of arriving
at the integrity of the primitive times, by entailing a more
than primitive poverty on us. The toil that is necessary
to our bare subsistence, must effectually defend us from the
anxieties of any further ambition. As we have no proper-
ties to feed vainglory and beget contention, so we are not
puzzled with any system of laws to ascertain and establish
them. The valuable virtue of humility is secured to us by
your care to prevent our procuring, or so much as seeing,
296 AZSZTORY OF AMER/CAAV ZAZTERA 7'OA’A.
any negroes, . . . lest our simplicity might mistake the
poor Africans for greater slaves than ourselves. And that
we might fully receive the spiritual benefit of those whole-
Some austerities, you have wisely denied us the use of
such spirituous liquors as might in the least divert our
minds from the contemplation of our happy circumstances.
“Be pleased, . . . Great Sir, to accompany our heated
imaginations in taking a view of this colony of Georgia,
this child of your auspicious politics, arrived at the ut-
most vigor of its constitution at a term when most former
States have been struggling through the convulsions of
their infancy. This early maturity, however, lessens our
admiration that your Excellency lives to see (what few
Founders ever aspired after) the great decline and al-
most final termination of it. So many have finished their
course during the progress of the experiment, and such
numbers have retreated from the phantoms of poverty
and slavery which their cowardly imaginations pictured to
them, that you may justly vaunt with the boldest hero of
them all
y “Like Death you reign
O'er silent subjects and a desert plain.”
“Yet must your enemies (if you have any) be ready to
confess that no ordinary statesman could have digested, in
the like manner, so capacious a scheme, such a copious
jumble of power and politics. We shall content ourselves
with observing that all those beauteous models of govern-
ment which the little states of Germany exercise, and
those extensive liberties which the boors of Poland enjoy,
were designed to concentre in your system; and were
we to regard the modes of government, we must have been
strangely unlucky to have missed of the best, where there
was an appearance of so great a variety. For, under the
influence of our Perpetual Dictator, we have seen some-
thing like aristocracy, oligarchy, as well as the triumvirate,
decemvirate, and consular authority of famous republics,
which have expired many ages before us. What wonder,
AA TRYCK 7"A/ZFER. 297
then, we share the same fate? Do their towns and vil-
lages exist but in story and rubbish? We are all over
ruins; our public-works, forts, wells, highways, light-houses,
stores, and water-mills, and so forth, are dignified like
theirs with the same venerable desolation. The log-house,
indeed, is like to be the last forsaken spot of your empire;
yet even this, through the death or desertion of those
who should continue to inhabit it, must suddenly decay;
the bankrupt jailor himself shall soon be denied the privi-
lege of human conversation; and when this last moment of
the spell expires, the whole shall vanish like the illusion of
Some eastern magician.
“But let not this solitary prospect impress your Ex-
cellency with any fears of having your services to man-
kind, and to the settlers of Georgia in particular, buried
in oblivion ; for if we diminutive authors are allowed to
prophesy, as you know poets in those cases formerly did,
—we may confidently presage, that while the memoirs of
America continue to be read in English, Spanish, or the
language of the Scots Highlanders, your Excellency's ex-
ploits and epocha will be transmitted to posterity.
“Should your Excellency apprehend the least tincture
of flattery in anything already hinted, we may sincerely as-
sure you, we intended nothing that our sentiments did not
very strictly attribute to your merit; and in such senti-
ments we have the satisfaction of being fortified by all
persons of impartiality and discernment.
“But not to trespass on those minutes which your Ex-
cellency may suppose more significantly employed on the
sequel, let it suffice at present to assure you that we are
deeply affected by your favors; and though unable of our-
selves properly to acknowledge them, we shall embrace
every opportunity of recommending you to higher powers,
who, we are hopeful, will reward your Excellency accord-
ing to your Merit!”
CHAPTER XVIII.
GENERAL LITERARY FORCES IN THE COLONIAL TIME.
I.—Tendency in each colony toward isolation—Local peculiarities in thought
and language–Distribution of personal and literary types.
1I.—General tendencies toward colonial fellowship, founded on kinship, re-
ligion, commerce, subjection to the same sovereign, peril from the same
enemies — Special intellectual tendencies toward colonial fellowship,
founded on the rise of journalism, the establishment of colleges, and the
study of physical science.
III.-The rise of American journalism—“Public Occurrences,” in 1690–
“The Boston News-Letter,” in 1704—Dates of the founding of the first
newspapers in the several colonies—Whole number founded in each col-
ony before 1765—Description of the colonial newspapers—Their effect on
intercolonial acquaintance—The growth of literary skill in them—Early
literary magazines — First one founded by Franklin, in 1741 – “The
American Magazine,” at Boston—“The Independent Reflector,” at New
York—“The American Magazine,” at Philadelphia.
IV.—Early American colleges—Seven founded before 1765–Harvard, William
and Mary, Yale, New Jersey, King's, Philadelphia, Rhode Island–Grade
and extent of instruction in them—Predominant study of the ancient
classics—Requirements for admission at Harvard and Yale–Latin in
ordinary use in the colleges—Range of studies—Expertness in the use of
the ancient languages—How the early colleges led to colonial union—
Their vast influence on literary culture—Their promotion of the spiritual
conditions on which the growth of literature depends—One effect of their
work seen in the state papers of the Revolutionary period–Lord Chat-
ham's tribute.
V.—Study of physical science in America—Begun by the earliest Americans
—Eminence of John Winthrop of Connecticut—His connections with the
Royal Society—Fitz John Winthrop—Stimulus given to study of nature
in New England—Increase Mather—John Williams—Cotton Mather—
Jared Eliot—Joseph Dudley—Paul Dudley—Study of science in Virginia
—John Banister—William Byrd—Mark Catesby—John Clayton-John
Mitchell—John Bartram of Pennsylvania—John Winthrop of Harvard
College—The intercolonial correspondence of scientific men—Culmina-
tion of scientific research between 1740 and 1765—The brilliant services
of Franklin—America instructing Europe in electricity—Leading scien-
tific men in the several colonies—Scientific fellowship a preparation for
political fellowship—Impulse given by science to literature.
VI.—Great change in the character of American literature after 1765.
298
EAVGLISH LANGUAGE IN AMERICA. 299
T.
THE study of American literature in the colonial time,
is the study of a literature produced, in isolated portions,
at the several local seats of English civilization in America.
Before the year 1765, we find in this country, not one
American people, but many American peoples. At the
various centres of our colonial life, L-Georgia, the Carolinas,
Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania, New York, Connecticut,
Rhode Island, Massachusetts,<-there were, indeed, popu-
lations of the same English stock; but these populations
differed widely in personal and social peculiarities—in
spirit, in opinion, in custom. The germs of a future na-
tion were here, only they were far apart, unsympathetic,
at times even unfriendly. No cohesive principle prevailed,
no centralizing life; each little nation was working out its
own destiny in its own fashion. The Swedish scholar,
Peter Kalm, travelling through the colonies from 1748 to
I75I, was astonished at the isolation of each in laws, in
moneys, in military plans, in social usages." In 1765, on
the assembling at New York of the first continental con-
gress, the delegates from the several colonies, like ambas-
sadors from remote nations, could at first only stare at one
another as utter strangers in face, in character, even in
113 IITC.
This notable fact of the isolation of each colony or of
each small group of colonies, reflects itself both in the
form and in the spirit of our early literature, giving to
each colony or to each group its own literary accent.
The English language that prevailed in all the colonies
was, of course, the English language that had been brought
from England in the seventeenth century; but, according
to a well-established linguistic law, it had at once suffered
here an arrest of development, remaining for some time in
* “Travels,” I. 262-263.
3OO HISTORY OF AMER/CAAW L/7′ERA 7"URAE.
the stage in which it was at the period of the emigration;
and when it began to alter, it altered more slowly than it
had done, in the meantime, in the mother-country, and it
altered in a different direction. Indeed, even in the nine-
teenth century, “the speech of the American English is
archaic with respect to that of the British English,” —
its peculiarities consisting, in the main, of “seventeenth
century survivals as modified by environment.””
Moreover, just as environment led to many modifica-
tions of the English language as between the several col-
onies and the mother-country, so did it lead to many
modifications of the English language as between the sev-
eral colonies themselves; and by the year 1752, it was pos-
sible for Benjamin Franklin to say that every colony had
“some peculiar expressions, familiar to its own people, but
strange and unintelligible to others.””
But the separate literary accent of each colony was de-
rived, also, from dissimilarities deeper than those relating
to verbal forms and verbal combinations, namely, dissimi-
larities in personal character. Thus, the literature of the
Churchmen and Cavaliers of Virginia differed from the
literature of the Calvinists and Roundheads of New Eng-
land, just as their natures differed : the former being mer-
ry, sparkling, with a sensual and a worldly vein, having
some echoes from the lyric poets and the dramatists of the
seventeenth century, and from the wits of the time of
Queen Anne; the latter, sad, devout, theological, analytic,
with a constant effort toward the austerities of the spirit,
looking joylessly upon this material world as upon a sphere
blighted by sin, giving back plaintive reverberations from
the diction of the Bible, of the sermon-writers, and of the
makers of grim and sorrowful verse. Between these two
extremes, Virginia and New England,-there lay the mid-
1 A. J. Ellis, “Early Eng. Pron.” Part I. 19–20, whose language in stating
the general law, I closely follow above in my statement of a special illustra-
tion of it. \
? Ibid. Part IV. xvii. 8 Works, VII. 56.
cozoWIAL FEZLOWSHIP. 3OI
dle regions of spiritual and literary compromise, New
York and Pennsylvania; and there the gravity and im-
mobility of the Dutch Presbyterians, the primness, the
literalness, the art-scorning mysticism of the Pennsylva-
nia Quakers, were soon tempered and diversified by an
infusion of personal influences that were strongly stimulat-
ing and expanding, many of them being, indeed, free-
minded, light-hearted, and moved by a conscious attrac-
tion toward the catholic and the beautiful. In general, the
characteristic note of American literature in the colonial
time, is, for New England, scholarly, logical, speculative,
unworldly, rugged, sombre ; and as one passes Southward
along the coast, across other spiritual zones, this literary
note changes rapidly toward lightness and brightness,
until it reaches the sensuous mirth, the frank and jovial
worldliness, the satire, the persiflage, the gentlemanly
grace, the amenity, the jocular coarseness, of literature in
Maryland, Virginia, and the farther South.
II.
On the other hand, the fact must not be overlooked
that, while the tendency toward colonial isolation had its
way, throughout the entire colonial age, there was also an
opposite tendency—a tendency toward colonial fellowship
—that asserted itself even from the first, and yet at the
first faintly, but afterward with steadily increasing power
as time went on ; until at last, in 1765, aided by a fortunate
blunder in the statesmanship of England, this tendency be-
came suddenly dominant, and led to that united and great
national life, without which a united and great national
literature here would have been forever impossible. This
august fact of fellowship between the several English pop-
ulations in America, -a fellowship maintained and even
strengthened after the original occasion of it had ceased,—
has perhaps saved the English language in America from
finally breaking up into a multitude of mutually repellent
3O2 AZSTORY OF AMZAC/CAAV ZAZTERA 7"URE.
dialects; it has certainly saved American literature from
the pettiness of permanent local distinctions, from fitful-
ness in its development, and from disheartening limitations
in its audience.
Of the causes that were at work during our colonial age
to produce and strengthen this benign tendency toward
colonial fellowship, and to ripen it for the illustrious op-
portunity that came in the year 1765, several belong espe-
cially to the domain of general history; and it will be
enough for our present purposes merely to name them
here. First, it is evident that, between the English resi-
dents in America, blood told; for, whatever partisan dis-
tinctions, religious or political, separated the primitive
colonists on their departure from England and during
their earlier years here, these distinctions, after a while,
grew dim, especially under the consciousness that they who
cherished them were, after all, members of the same great
English family, and that the contrasts between themselves
were far less than the contrasts between themselves and all
other persons on this side of the Atlantic,+Frenchmen,
Spaniards, and Indians. Secondly, there were certain re-
ligious sympathies that led to intercolonial acquaintance,
—Churchmen in one colony reaching out the hand of bro-
therhood to Churchmen in another colony, Quakers in
Pennsylvania greeting Quakers in New Jersey or Rhode
Island, the Congregational Calvinists of New England
reciprocating kind words with the Presbyterian Calvinists
of the middle colonies and the south. Thirdly, in the inter-
change of commodities between the several colonies, com-
merce played its usual part as a missionary of genial ac-
quaintance and coöperation. Fourthly, there were in all
the colonies certain problems common to all, growing out
of their relation to the supreme authority of England; and
the method of dealing with these problems in any one col-
ony was of interest to all the others. Finally, all were aware
of a common peril from the American ambition of France,
and from the savage allies of France on this continent.
FARL Y AMERICAM JOURNAL/SM. - 3O3
Besides these general causes leading toward colonial
union,-kinship, religion, commerce, dependence upon the
same sovereign, peril from the same enemies, there were
three other causes that may be described as purely intel-
lectual—the rise of journalism, the founding of colleges,
and the study of physical science. To these we now need
to pay some attention, for the double reason that they
worked strongly for the development of that intercolonial
fellowship, without which no national literature would ever
have been born here, and, also, that they were in them-
selves literary forces of extraordinary importance.
III.
The first newspaper ever published in America appeared
in Boston in 1690, and was named “Public Occurrences.”
For the crime of uttering “reflections of a very high na-
ture,” it was immediately extinguished by the authorities
of Massachusetts, not even attaining the dignity of a
second number." Under this rough blow, the real birth
of American journalism hesitated for fourteen years. On
the fourth of April, 1704, was published in Boston the first
number of an American newspaper that lived. It was
called “The Boston News-Letter.” For fifteen years, it
continued to be the only newspaper in America. At last,
on the twenty-first of December, 1719, a rival newspaper
was started, named “The Boston Gazette; ” and on the
twenty-second day of the same month, in the same year,
there appeared in Philadelphia the first newspaper pub-
lished in this country outside of Boston. This was called
“The American Weekly Mercury.” From that time on-
Ward, the fashion of having newspapers spread rapidly.
In 1721, James Franklin began in Boston “The New Eng-
land Courant,” in which his renowned apprentice got his
first training as a writer for the press. In 1725, William
* F. Hudson, “Journalism in the U. S.” 44–49.
3O4. HISTORY OF AMERICAN ZZZZRA 7"URE.
Bradford founded in New York the first newspaper there.
Maryland followed with its first newspaper, in 1727; next
came South Carolina and Rhode Island, both in 1732;
then Virginia, in 1736; then North Carolina and Connecti-
cut, both in 1755; then New Hampshire, in 1756; finally,
Georgia, in 1763. Before the close of the year 1765, there
had been established in the American colonies at least
forty-three newspapers, -one in Georgia, four in South
Carolina, two in North Carolina, one in Virginia, two in
Maryland, five in Pennsylvania, eight in New York, four
in Connecticut, three in Rhode Island, two in New Hamp-
shire, and eleven in Massachusetts."
Nearly all of these newspapers were issued once each
week; many of them were on diminutive sheets; and for
a long time, all of them clung to the prudent plan of pub-
lishing only news and advertisements, abstaining entirely
from the audacity of an editorial opinion, or disguising
that dangerous luxury under pretended letters from corre-
spondents. News from Europe, when it was to be had,
—and especially news from England, occupied a prominent
place in these little papers; but, necessarily, for each one,
the affairs of its own colony, and next, the affairs of the
other colonies furnished the principal items of interest.
Thus it was that early American journalism, even though
feeble, sluggish, and timid, began to lift the people of each
colony to a plane somewhat higher than its own bounda-
ries, and to enable them, by looking abroad, this way and
that, upon the proceedings of other people in this country,
and upon other interests as precious as their own, to cor-
rect the pettiness and the selfishness of mere localism
in thought. Colonial journalism was a necessary and a
great factor in the slow process of colonial union.
Besides this, our colonial journalism soon became, in
itself, a really important literary force. It could not re-
! For the above titles and dates, I depend chiefly on I. Thomas, “Hist.
Printing in Am.” II. I-174.
FAA’z Y AMER/CAM JOURNAZISM. 3O5
main forever a mere disseminator of public gossip, or a
placard for the display of advertisements. The instinct of
critical and brave debate was strong even among those
puny editors, and it kept struggling for expression. More-
Over, each editor was surrounded by a coterie of friends,
with active brains and a propensity to utterance; and
these constituted a sort of unpaid staff of editorial con-
tributors, who, in various forms, letters, essays, anecdotes,
epigrams, poems, lampoons,—helped to give vivacity and
even literary value to the paper.
Our early journalism, likewise, included publications of
a more explicit literary intention than the newspapers;
publications in which the original work was done with far
greater care, and in which far more space was surrendered to
literary news and literary criticism, and to the exercise of
many sorts of literary talent. The generic name for these
publications is the magazine ; and the first one issued in
this country was by Benjamin Franklin, at Philadelphia, in
I741, and was called “The General Magazine and Histori-
cal Chronicle, for all the British Plantations in America.”
It contained, besides general news, copious extracts from
new books, and original poems and prose essays. Two
years afterward, was started in Boston “The American
Magazine and Historical Chronicle,” closely modelled after
“The London Magazine,” and edited by an eminent law-
yer of literary proclivities, Jeremiah Gridley. It was pub-
lished once a month; and it undertook to give in each
number reprints of the best essays from the journals of
London and the colonies, the proceedings of the Royal
Society, a list of new books, abundant extracts from new
books, “select pieces relating to the arts and sciences,”
“essays, moral, civil, political, humorous, and polemical,”
and “poetical essays on various subjects.”* The next nota-
ble publication of this kind was “The Independent Re-
flector,” begun at New York in 1752, and particularly de-
' Part of prospectus, in I. Thomas, “Hist. Printing in Am.” II. 68.
306 Aſ/STORY OF AMAEA?/CAAV ZAZTERA 7"U/CAE.
voted to ethical, political, and humorous essays, in prose
and verse, which were contributed by a club of literary men
in New York and its neighborhood, including William Liv-
ingston, President Aaron Burr, John Morin Scott, and the
historian, William Smith." * - -
By far the most admirable example of our literary peri-
odicals in the colonial time, was “The American Magazine,”
published at Philadelphia from October, 1757, to October,
1758, and conducted, according to its own announcement,
“by a society of gentlemen.” In the first number, these
gentlemen gave a rather lively description of themselves
“as persons whose talents and views in life are very differ-
ent. . . . Some are, accordingly, of one temper and dispo-
sition, and some of another. Some are grave and serious,
while others are gay and facetious. . . . Some indulge
themselves in the belles-lettres and in productions of wit
and fancy, while others are wrapt up in speculation and
wholly bent on the abstruser parts of philosophy and
science.” The magazine contains a summary of the
world’s news, philosophical and political discussions, aes-
thetic and playful essays, poems grave and gay,+all in-
dicating literary feeling, if not literary power. William
Smith, the clergyman and president of the young college
at Philadelphia, was its principal contributor, and indeed
the leading spirit in its management. -
IV.
No other facts in American history are more creditable
to the American people, than those which relate to their
early and steady esteem for higher education, and espe-
cially to their efforts and their sacrifices in the founding of
colleges. Before the year 1765, seven colleges were estab-
lished here, all of which, excepting the one of latest birth,
1 I. Thomas, “Hist. Printing in Am.” II. I25.
* “The Am. Mag.” Oct. 1757, Preſ. 4–5.
AºA RL Y A MER/CAAW CO/C/A. G.E.S. 3O7
have been mentioned already in the progress of this his-
tory: Harvard, in 1636; William and Mary, in 1693; Yale,
in 17OO; New Jersey, in 1746; King's," in 1754; Phila-
delphia,” in 1755; Rhode Island,” in 1764.
Though all these little establishments bore the name of
colleges, there were considerable differences among them
with respect to the grade and extent of the instruction
they furnished,—those founded latest being, in that par-
ticular, the most rudimental. Nevertheless, at them all
one noble purpose prevailed,—the study of the ancient
classics. Thus, at Harvard, so early as 1643, the require-
ments for entrance were stated as follows: “When any
scholar is able to understand Tully or such like classical
Latin author extempore, and make and speak true Latin
in verse and prose; . . . and decline perfectly the para-
digms of nouns and verbs in the Greek tongue, let him
then, and not before, be capable of admission into the
college.”* In 1719, when Jonathan Edwards was a Junior
at Yale College, he sent to his father this account of the
entrance examination at that college of a lad named Stiles,
in whom both were interested : “He was examined in
Tully's Orations, in which, though he had never construed
before he came to New Haven, yet he committed no
error, in that or any other book, whether Latin, Greek, or
Hebrew, except in Virgil, wherein he could not tell the
‘praeteritum' of ‘requiesco.’”* Once within the college,
the student was required to drop the English language,
and to use Latin as the usual medium of intercourse:
“Scholares vernaculá linguá, intra collegii limites, nullo
praetextu utuntor.”" The course of study “embraced the
contemporaneous learning of the colleges in England;”
and as far as possible, everything was done here “pro more
* Now Columbia College. * Now the University of Pennsylvania.
* Now Brown University.
* B. Peirce, “Hist. Harv. Univ.” Appendix, 4–5.
* Works of J. Edwards, I. 31. * J. Quincy, “Hist. Harv. Univ.” I. 578.
7 B. Peirce, “IHist. Harv. Univ.” 7.
3O8 AZSZ'OK P OF AMER/CAAV ZAZTEACA 7'U.R.E.
Academiarum in Anglia.” At Harvard College, the studies
included grammar, rhetoric, logic, arithmetic, geometry,
physics, astronomy, ethics, politics, divinity; “exercises in
style, composition, epitome, both in prose and verse; "
Greek, Latin, Hebrew, Syriac, and Chaldee. No one was
deemed “fit to be dignified with his first degree,” until he
was “found able to read the originals of the Old and New
Testament into the Latin tongue, and to resolve them
logically.”
This extraordinary training in the ancient languages led
to forms of proficiency that have no parallel now in Amer-
ican colleges. So early as 1649, President Dunster wrote
to Ravius, the famous orientalist, that some of the students
at Harvard could “with ease dexterously translate Hebrew
and Chaldee into Greek.”* In 1678, there was in that col-
lege even an Indian student who wrote Latin and Greek
poetry; and this accomplishment continued to be an ordi-
nary one there as late the Revolutionary War; while the
facile use of Latin, whether for conversation or for oratory,
was so common among the scholars of Harvard and of Yale
as to excite no remark. It is a token of the learning of
those days that a graduate of Yale, of the class of 1746,
who rose to be the president of his college, delivered on a
certain Commencement-day two elaborate orations,—one
being in Latin and the other in Hebrew. Finally, nearly
all the superior men in public life, after the immigrant
generation, were educated at these little colleges; and in
all the studies that then engaged the attention of Scholars
in the old world, these men, particularly if clergymen, had
a scholarship that was, in compass and variety, fully abreast
of the learning of the time.
The existence here of these early colleges was in many
ways a means of colonial fellowship. Each college was
itself, in all portions of the country, a point of distinction
1 Ibid. Appendix 7; also J. Quincy, “Hist. Harv. Univ." I. I90-19t.
* J. B. Felt, “Eccl. Hist, N. E.” II. Io.
AARL Y AMERICAN COLZZGES. 309
for its own colony; at each college were gathered some
students from other colonies; between all the colleges
there grew a sense of fraternity in learning and letters,
and this reënforced the general sense of fraternity in civic
destinies; finally, at these colleges was trained no little of
that masterly statesmanship of our later colonial time,
which, at a glance, interpreted the danger that hung upon
the horizon in 1765, proclaimed the imminent need of colo-
nial union, and quickly brought it about.
But the vast influence that our early colleges exerted
upon literary culture, can hardly be overstated. Among
all the people, they nourished those spiritual conditions
out of which, alone, every wholesome and genuine litera-
ture must grow; and in their special devotion to classical
studies, they imparted to a considerable body of men the
finest training for literary work, that the world is yet pos-
sessed of. It was of incalculable service to American
literature that, even in these wild regions of the earth, the
accents of Homer, of Thucydides, of Cicero, were made
familiar to us from the beginning; that a consciousness of
the aesthetic principle in verbal expression was kept alive
here, and developed, by constant and ardent study of the
supreme masters of literary form ; and that the great, im-
memorial traditions of literature were borne hither across
the Atlantic from their ancient seats, and were here housed
in perpetual temples, for the rearing of which the people
gladly went to great cost.
The worst disasters to which young commonwealths are
liable, and on which all noble literary growth is the most
surely wrecked, are certain base spiritual conditions,—par-
ticularly, a loss of deference to what is ancient and perma-
ment, hatred of discipline, impatience with slow and careful
work, and by consequence, vulgarity of tone, superficiality,
and barbarism. Against these disasters, our early colleges
were in some measure a barrier, as they were in every re-
spect a protest. They stood, in their quietness, year by
year, generation after generation, inculcating respect for
3IO AISTORY OF AMER/CAAV ZATERA 7'UA' E.
what is most ancient and most permanent, in thought,
in speech, in conduct; they abashed modern egotism by
the study of sublime antique models of virtue and great-
ness; they taught that the worship of wisdom is nobler
than the worship of gold, that substance is better than
show, that every true man will be simple, and modest, and
patient, and faithful, and will hate all shirking and all lies;
they testified that even in this world, in the long run, the
sovereign power is the power of simple rectitude in all
matters of state and church and commerce and personal
behavior; they did their best to breed up, for the service
of this new land, scholars of catholic learning, preachers
who would not part with the ownership of their own souls,
and statesmen who would neither serve tyrants nor flatter
mobs. By their nourishment of these pure and sound
spiritual conditions of a national life, and by their steady
discouragement of all spiritual conditions opposite to
these, the early American colleges stood for the things
without which great thoughts and noble words cannot
come. And some fruitage from all that brave work of
theirs was gathered sooner, perhaps, than men expected.
For example, the tribute of most eloquent homage, which,
in 1775, in the House of Lords, the Earl of Chatham paid
to the intellectual force, the literary symmetry, and the de-
corum of the state-papers then recently transmitted from
America, and then lying upon the table of that House,
was virtually an announcement to Europe of the astonish-
ing news, that, by means of an intellectual cultivation
formed in America, in its own little colleges, on the best
models of ancient and modern learning, America had al-
ready become not only an integral part of the civilized
world, but even a member of the republic of letters.
V.
The study of physical science in this country began with
the very settlement of the country. It is not strange that
S7'UD Y OF AZAZ VSYCA/C SC/EAVCE. 3II
the men who came to the new world should have inspected
it inquisitively, either from love of novelty or from love of
gain ; and the writings of the first Americans are strewn
with sharp observations on the geography of America;
on its minerals, soils, waters, plants, animals; on its cli-
mates, storms, earthquakes; on its savage inhabitants,
its diseases, its medicines; and on the phenomena of
the heavens as they appeared to this part of the earth.
There were here, even in our earliest age, several men of
special scientific inclination, such as William Wood, John
Josselyn, John Sherman, John Winthrop of Massachusetts,
and John Winthrop of Connecticut. Indeed, the latter
was recognized as an eminent physicist even among the
contemporaneous physicists of England ; and in Connecti-
cut, where he founded the city of New London, and where
he was for many years governor, he pursued with great
zeal his scientific researches, carrying them even into the
fatal chase for the philosopher's stone." He was on terms of
endearing intimacy with Watkins, Robert Boyle, and other
great leaders of science in England; and it is said that
under the menace of public calamities there, and drawn,
likewise, by their friendship for Winthrop, these men had
proposed to leave England, and to establish in the Ameri-
can colony over which Winthrop presided “a society for
promoting natural knowledge.” They were, however, in-
duced by Charles the Second to remain in England; and
accordingly, with the coöperation of Winthrop, who hap-
pened to be in London at the time, they founded there,
instead of in New London, the association that soon be-
came renowned throughout the world as the Royal Soci-
ety. Of that Society, Winthrop “was in a particular man-
ner invited to take upon himself the charge of being the
chief correspondent in the West, as Sir Philiberto Vernatti
* “The Winthrop Papers,” in 3 Mass. Hist. Soc. Coll. IX. 226-301 ; X.
1–126; also VI–VII. of the 4th series; and J. R. Lowell, “Among my
Books,” Ist series, 265–273.
* John Eliot, “Biograph. Dict.” 505.
3I2 AZS 7"O/2 Y OF AMER/CAM Z/7ZACA 7"UAEAE.
was in the East Indies;" and as long as he lived, he was a
diligent contributor to it both of scientific specimens from
America and of papers on science. Happily, also, in the
eager prosecution of such studies, he was succeeded by
his son, Fitz John Winthrop, who was also a governor of
Connecticut and a Fellow of the Royal Society.
The formation of the Royal Society gave an impulse
to the study of physical science, that was felt in every
part of the earth, and was especially felt in America. One
of the first tokens of its influence here was seen in New
England, where the clergy and other learned men turned
with uncommon zest from metaphysical subjects to the
investigation of natural history. Increase Mather formed
in Boston a society of scholars for that purpose ; and his
writings show that he was alert in observing the world's
progress in physical science. John Williams, the minister
of Deerfield, was a zealous student of nature, and among
his writings are papers treating of matter, wind, fire, water,
the earth, beasts, birds, fishes, insects, of the method of
drawing a meridian line upon a horizontal plane, of Mars,
Mercury, Vulcan, and so forth.” In 1721, Cotton Mather
published “The Christian Philosopher; a Collection of the
best Discoveries in Nature, with religious Improvements; ”
in which he explains the latest theories in astronomy,
meteorology, physics, zoölogy, and ethnography, and shows
a large and minute acquaintance with these subjects. In
1748, was published “An Essay on Field Husbandry in
New England,”—one of the earliest attempts ever made
in this country to reënforce by science the empiricism
of agriculture. The author was Jared Eliot, a graduate
of Yale College, a preacher, physician, naturalist, and
farmer; a man whose brain, eye, and hand conspired to-
gether through a long life, for the glory of God in the
relief of man's estate. Governor Joseph Dudley, who died
1 Dr. Cromwell Mortimer, “Phil. Trans.” XL. Dedication.
* S. W. Williams, “A Biographical Memoir” of J. Williams, 131.
STUDY OF PH YSICAL SCIAEAVCE. 3I 3
in Massachusetts in 172O, added to his great learning in
law, divinity, and literature, a large acquaintance with
science; and his son, Paul Dudley, who died in 1752, and
who resembled his father in variety of learning, was spe-
cially devoted to natural history; and several papers of
his upon that subject appeared in the “Philosophical
Transactions.”
During the latter part of the seventeenth century, John
Banister, a correspondent of the English naturalist, John
Ray, was settled in Virginia, and was eagerly engaged in
the preparation of a work on the natural history of that
colony; and, besides a catalogue of the plants of Virginia,
papers of his were published on “The Insects of Virginia,”
“Curiosities in Virginia,” “The Unseen Lupus,” and
“The Pistolochia, or Serpentaria Virginiana.” William
Byrd of Westover made many careful notes on the plants
and animals of Virginia. Between the years 17 Io and
1726, Mark Catesby, a friend of Sir Hans Sloane, pursued
a systematic investigation of natural objects in Virginia,
the Carolinas, Georgia, and even in Florida and the Ba-
hama islands, and afterward published a large work upon
that subject. John Clayton, a physician and botanist, who
lived in Virginia from 1706 to 1773, was a tireless student
of the plants of that region, greatly enlarged the botanical
catalogue, corresponded with Linnaeus and Gronovius,
and contributed many papers to the “Philosophical Trans-
actions.” During the larger part of the same period, John
Mitchell, likewise a physician and a Fellow of the Royal
Society, pursued in Virginia the study of botany, publish-
ing a treatise on the subject, and sending abroad to learned
men and learned societies many botanical specimens and
many scientific papers.
Perhaps there was no one of these early American stu-
dents of nature whom it is now pleasanter to recall than
| F. S. Drake, “Dict. Am. Biog.” 59; also, E. Tuckerman, in “New Eng-
land's Rarities,” Introd. I5.
3I4. A/STORY OF AMERICAAV ZATERA TURE.
the Quaker naturalist, John Bartram. Born in Pennsyl-
vania, in 1701, and left an orphan at thirteen, he had little
help from schools, and only such leisure as he could create
after his daily work was done; but having, also, a sincere
love of nature, a thirst for all sorts of truth, and an apti-
tude for all sorts of mechanic performance, he throve in
various ways. He built with his own hands a house, on
his own grounds near Philadelphia, and founded there the
first botanic garden in America. In that garden he labored
every day, reared a large family, made himself proficient
in medicine and surgery, sent botanic specimens to the
gardeners of Europe, wrote papers on botany for European
scientific societies, was appointed American botanist to
George the Third, and won from Linnaeus the praise of
being “the greatest natural botanist in the world.” He
had the naturalist's passion for discovery, his friend Peter
Collinson saying that he would go fifty or a hundred miles
to see a new plant. Twice he made long tours of scientific
exploration, first in 1743 through Pennsylvania and New
York to Lake Ontario, and again in 1765 and 1766 through
the Floridas. Each of these expeditions resulted in a
book of narration and description, having indeed no liter-
ary merit besides simplicity and directness of statement,
but interesting and good as the jottings of an eager nat-
uralist while passing through a new world.
As John Bartram represents high attainments in science
reached under all outward disadvantages, so John Win-
throp of Harvard College represents still higher attain-
ments in science reached under all outward advantages. A
descendant of the first governor of Massachusetts, and thus
belonging to a race in which the study of nature was an
hereditary passion, he was graduated at Harvard in I732,
at the age of seventeen; and from 1738 until his death in
1779, he served his Alma Mater with great distinction as
professor of mathematics and natural philosophy. For
! J. A. Allibone, “Dictionary of Authors,” art. J. Bartram.
STUDY OF PHYSICAL SCIEAVCE. 315
extent and depth of learning in his special departments,
he was probably the foremost American of his day; and
in other departments—history, literature, theology, lan-
guages, politics—he had made great acquisitions. During
his long career at the college, he was the inspirer of his
pupils, as well as their guide. His aspect was very noble,
having in it both dignity and tenderness; and those who
looked upon him saw realized their highest conceptions of
the sage and the gentleman. He had an exquisite faculty
of giving instruction; one who was both his pupil and
associate said of him that “each new lecture was a new
revelation.” His life was given to research and to oral
instruction rather than to the writing of books; yet he
published several small works, all upon scientific subjects,
and all occasioned by events that then occurred in the earth
or the heavens—earthquakes, comets, meteors, and the
transits of Venus. These writings are models of scientific
exposition,-thorough, simple, terse, lucid, graceful, having
an occasional stroke of poetic beauty in epithet, often ris-
ing into an effortless and serene eloquence. His manner
of reasoning is as noble as his manner of utterance; mod-
est, judicial, never heedless or dictatorial in statement,
never exaggerating scientific conjectures into scientific
facts, never insisting upon immoderate inferences from his
scientific facts. All things considered, he was probably
the most symmetrical example both of scientific and of
literary culture produced in America during the colonial
time; representing what was highest and broadest in it,
what was most robust and most delicate; a thinker and a
writer born and bred in a province, but neither in thought
nor in speech provincial; an American student of nature
and of human nature, who stayed at home, and bringing
Europe and the universe to his own door, made himself
cosmopolitan.
Thus, from the earliest moment of American civilization,
* Professor Stephen Sewall, Funeral Oration, 4.
316 AZSZTORY OF A MAA’ZCAAV ZATERA 7'U.R.E.
there were, here and there in this country, eager and keen
students of nature, their number greatly multiplying with
the passing of the years. But it belongs to the essence of
such studies that they who pursue them should seek the
fellowship of their own brethren, either for help in solving
difficulties or for delight in announcing discoveries; and it
is, beyond question, true, that the union of the American
colonies was first laid in the friendly correspondence and
intellectual sympathies of students of physical science,
who from an early day were dispersed through these col-
onies, and who, even before commerce, or politics, or re-
ligion had overstepped the barriers between them, had
sought one another out in their scattered homes, and had
begun those generous interchanges of scientific informa-
tion, which were a joy in themselves, and which led to
many other beneficent forms of intercolonial acquaintance.
By the year 1740, the American students of nature had
become a multitude; and from that year to the year 1765,
the glory of physical research among us culminated in the
brilliant achievements of Benjamin Franklin, whose good
fortune it then was to enable his country to step at once
to the van of scientific discovery, and for a few years to
be the teacher of the world on the one topic of physical
inquiry then uppermost in men's thoughts. In 1754, the
leading physicists of France—Buffon, Marty, Dubourg,
Fonferrière, Dalibard—paused in their studies, and sent
across the ocean this reverent word to the great physicist
of America: “We are all waiting with the greatest eager-
ness to hear from you.” Nine years before that, in pro-
posing the formation of “The American Philosophical
Society,” this wonderful man had announced to his own
countrymen that the time had come for them to make
new and greater exertions for the enlargement of human
knowledge: “The first drudgery of settling new colo-
nies . . . is now pretty well over; and there are many
1 Works of Franklin, VI. IQ4.
... COLONIAL /SOZA ZZOM EAW DEA). 317
in every province in circumstances that set them at ease,
and afford leisure to cultivate the finer arts, and improve
the common stock of knowledge.” Inspired by the noble
enthusiasm of Franklin, whose position brought him into
large personal acquaintance in all the colonies, the activ-
ity and the range of scientific studies in America were
then greatly increased. Alexander Garden, James Logan,
Thomas Bond, John Bard, John Bartram, Ebenezer Kin-
nersley, Lewis Evans, Thomas Godfrey, James Alexan-
der, Cadwallader Colden, Samuel Johnson, Thomas Clap,
Jared Eliot, Paul Dudley, John Winthrop, were, in those
years, with Franklin, the leading students of nature in this
country, who, in colonies the most remote from one an-
other, were pushing forward similar researches, and who
found in these researches a bond of scientific communion
that helped to prepare the way for political communion—
whenever the hour for that should come.
The direct impulse given by all this eager study of
physical science to the development of American litera-
ture is to be seen not only in scientific writings like those
of Winthrop and of Franklin, which have high and peculiar
literary merit, but in the general invigoration of American
thought, in the development of a sturdy rational spirit,
and in a broadening of the field of our intellectual vision.
VI.
In spite of all these influences working toward colonial
fellowship, the prevailing fact in American life, down to
the year 1765, was colonial isolation. With that year came
the immense event that suddenly swept nearly all minds
in the several colonies into the same great current of ab-
sorbing thought, and that held them there for nearly
twenty years. From the date of that event, we cease to
concern ourselves with an American literature in the east
* Works, VI. I4.
318 AM/STORY OF AMER/CAAV ZATERA 7"URAE.
or the south, in this colony or in that. Henceforward
American literature flows in one great, common stream,
and not in petty rills of geographical discrimination. Our
future studies will deal with the literature of one mul-
titudinous people, variegated, indeed, in personal traits,
but single in its commanding ideas and in its national
destinies.
I ND EX.
ADAMS, John, his receipt for making
a New England in Virginia, i. IIo;
on Jonathan Mayhew, ii. I99.
Adams, John, the poet, ii. 3; his life,
54–55; his Poems on Several Oc-
casions, 55 ; his contribution to
Poems by Several Hands, 56.
Addison, Joseph, ii. I23.
Alexander, James, ii. 317.
Allibone, J. Austin, his Dictionary of
Authors cited in notes, ii. 236, 3I4.
Almanac, its place in literature, ii.
I2O ; its early prominence and char-
acter in America, I2O-I2I ; Poor
Richard's, I21–123; Nathaniel
Ames's, I22–I30.
Alsop, George, i. 3; his life, 65–66 ;
his Character of the Province of
Maryland, 65–69; his description
of his voyage, 68.
American Apologetics, writers of, i.
3, 9.
American colonies, order of settle-
ament, i. 6; tendencies toward isola-
tion, ii. 299–30I ; a separate literary
accent in each, 300–30I ; tendencies
toward union, founded on race, re-
ligion, commerce, common depend-
ence, common perils, 3OI ; founded
on journalism, 303-306; on col-
leges, 306–31O ; on study of science,
3IO-317; their union rapidly de-
veloped from 1765, 317–318.
American colonists, traits of, in first
period, i. 7, 18, 62, 81–92, 93-I (4,
I23–125, 129; in second period, ii.
205–2O7, 225–228.
American Journal of Numismatics,
cited, ii. 50 note.
American literature, its beginning,
i. 5–15; its Founders immigrant
authors, 7 ; England and America
joint proprietors of our earliest lit-
erature, 7; early American writings
classified, 8-II ; first group, news
sent back, 8; second group, contro-
versial appeals, 9; third group, Am-
erican Apologetics, 9 ; fourth group,
accounts of the Indians, 9–Io; fifth
group, descriptions of nature, Io-II;
sixth group, accounts of the altered
conditions of life in the new world,
II; seventh group, books written
with special reference to Americans
themselves, II; American literature
dates from our first colony, II; its
birth-epoch a fortunate one, I2 ;
changes in style, 72–73 ; during
first period confined to two locali-
ties, Virginia and New England,
80 ; comparative literary barrenness
of the former, and the causes, 80-92;
two periods of, in colonial time, ii.
5–9 ; with second period begin
writers of American birth, 9; range
of its topics in New England in
second period, 93–94; its early con-
dition in New York, 207 ; in Penn-
Sylvania, 227–228 ; its isolated
character in colonial times, 299; its
separate character in each colony,
300–301 ; its development toward
uniformity dependent on colonial
union, 301-302, 317–318; stimu-
lated by journalism, 3O4–306; by
early colleges, 309-31O ; by study
of physical science, 317.
Americans, a new race, ii. 6–7.
Ames, Nathaniel, ii. 3 ; his Almanac,
I22–130.
Andros Tracts, ii. 162 note.
Archaeologia Americana, cited, in
notes, i. 4I, I54, I56, I57; ii. 79.
Aristotle, denounced by Cotton Ma-
ther, ii. 86–87.
Armstrong, Edward, his edition of
Leeds's News, etc., 209 note.
Arnold, Thomas, on the Fantastic
writers, i. 283 note.
Aspinwall Papers, cited, i. 82 note.
3 IQ
32O
JATOEX.
Bacon, Francis, i. 6, 20, 228 ; ii. 122,
I29.
Bacon, Nathaniel, his rebellion, i.
69–72, 80 ; ii. 6, 259 note, 264;
anonymous papers concerning his
rebellion, i. 72–80; poem on his
death, 78–79.
Ballads, early American, ii. 52.
Baltimore, Lord, founds Maryland, i.
6o ; Alsop's book dedicated to, 68.
I3ancroft, George, cited, in notes, i. 41,
Q4; his description of Virginia, 83,
85; on early religious intolerance
in Virginia, 91 note.
Banister, John, ii. 3; as a student of
Science, 3I3.
Bard, John, ii. 317.
Barnard, John, ii. 2, 88, I34 note ; his
life and traits, I75–176 ; his ser-
mons, I76–177.
Barnes, Albert, ii. 242 note.
Bartram, John, ii. 3, 317; his life, 3I4;
as a student of science, 3I4.
Bay Psalm Book, its origin and pecu-
liarities, i. 274–277.
Beaumont and Fletcher, i. 282.
Belknap Papers, cited, in notes, ii. 50,
I94.
Berkeley, George, Bishop of Cloyne,
denunciation of, by William Doug-
lass, ii. I56, I57; his influence on
American thought, 183 note.
Berkeley, Sir William, his treatment
of Bacon and his followers, i. 71,
72, 76; his opposition to schools
and printing in Virginia, 89; his
connection with the elder Beverley,
ii. 264.
Bermudas, described by William
Strachey, i. 45.
Beverley, Robert, i. 70; ii. 2; his ar-
raignment of the Virginians, i. 86,
87 ; ii. 266; on religious intoler-
ance in Virginia, i. 91 note ; his
life, ii. 264; his History of Vir-
ginia, 264-267; his description of
the climate of Virginia, 267.
Bigelow, John, his life of Franklin,
etc., cited, in notes, ii. 237, 239,
245, 253.
I}lackmore, Sir Richard, ii. 44.
Blair, James, ii. 2; his life, 26o ;
founds William and Mary College,
260–261 ; his Present State of Vir-
ginia, 261-262; his Sermons, 262–
263.
Bond, Thomas, ii. 317.
Boston News-Letter, ii. 43 note, 303.
Boyle, Robert, i. I54, 156 ; ii. 311.
Bradford, William, i. 3, Io; ; note,
126; his learning, 99, II8 note ;
his life, 116; his History of Plym-
outh Plantation, II 7–122; his mind
and style, I22–126; his Journal,
I59–163.
Bradford, William, the printer, ii.
209; founds first newspaper in New
York, 303-304.
Bradstreet, Anne, i. 3.; ii. I2, 25; her
life and writings, i. 277–292 ; as a
prose-writer, 280–281 ; as a poet,
277–278, 282-283 ; her Four Ele-
ments, 283–287 ; her Four Mon-
archies, 287 ; her Contemplations,
288–290 ; her hymns, 290 ; her de-
fence of women, 29I-292; con-
cluding estimate of, 292; only pro-
fessional poet in New England
in first period, ii. 9; her influence
on subsequent writers, 9; John
Norton’s elegy on, 9–II ; John
Rogers's poem to, 13–15.
Bradstreet, Simon, i. 99, I42; ii. 95 ;
his early life, i. 279 ; his career in
New England, 279.
Breintnal, Joseph, ii. 3; his part in
The Busy Body, 239.
Brewster, William, i. 99.
Brickell, John, his plagiarism from
John Lawson, ii. 289 note.
Brodhead, John Romeyn, his History
of New York, cited in ii. 224, 206
In Ote.
Brooke, Henry, ii. 3 ; his life and
writings, 235.
Browne, Sir Thomas, ii. IOI.
Buckingham, Joseph T., in notes,
ii. 35, 12I.
Buckley, Peter, i. 3, 215, 269 note;
his scholarship, 99 ; his elegy on
Thomas Hooker, 198; his life and
writings, 216–218; as a verse-writer,
267.
Budd, Thomas, ii. 2; his Good Order
Established, 209.
Bunyan, John, ii. 24.
Burk, John D., on schools in Vir-
ginia, i. 87; on early religious per-
secution in Virginia, 91.
Burr, Aaron, president, ii. 306.
Burwell Papers, i. 3, 69–80, 72, 72
note, 79 note.
Butler, Samuel, ii. I23.
Byles, Mather, ii. 2, 3, 43, 50, 88,
I34 note: his part in Poems by
Several Hands, 55–57; his rupture
AVDEX.
32I
with Hollis Street Church, Ig2–194;
his versatility and wit, IQ4; his
traits as a preacher, IQ4-198.
Byrd, William, ii. 2; his life and
character, 270–272; his History of
the Dividing Line, 272-277; his
Progress to the Mines, and his
Journey to the Land of Eden, 277–
279; his account of John Lawson's
death, 289 note; as a student of
science, 313.
Calef, Robert, ii. 3; his More Won-
ders of the Invisible World, 95–96.
Callender, John, ii. 2; his historical
discourse on Rhode Island, I50–151.
Campbell, Charles, cited, in notes, i.
69, 70, 85, 88; ii. 261 ; his descrip-
tion of early Virginia colonists, i.
87, 88 ; on religious intolerance in
Virginia, 91 ; his edition of Bever-
ley, ii. 264 note.
Catesby, Mark, as a student of sci-
ence, ii. 313.
Chalkley, Thomas, ii. 226.
Chalmers, George, in notes, i. 90.
Chaplin, J., i. Io9 note.
Chatham, Lord, on American state-
papers, ii. 3LO.
Chaucer, ii. IO4, 246.
Chauncey, Charles, of Harvard Col-
lege, i. 3, 2I5 ; ii. 67; his scholar-
ship, i. 99 ; his life, 22I–224; his
writings, 224–226 ; fate of his un-
published writings, 225–226.
Chauncey, Charles, of Boston, ii. 2,
88; his estimate of Jeremiah Dum-
mer, II6 ; his career and influence
before the Revolution, 199–200; his
hostility to religious enthusiasm,
2OO–2O3.
Chauncey Memorials, cited, in notes,
i. 222; ii. 200, 20I.
Church, Benjamin, ii. 2; his life, I40;
his History of Indian Wars, I40–141.
Clap, Roger, i. 95 note.
Clap, Thomas, ii. 3, 3I7.
Clarendon, Lord, his History of the
Rebellion denounced by Cotton
Mather, ii. 86.
Clayton, John, ii. 3; as a student of
science, 313.
Clergy of New England, i. 186—226;
their supremacy, I86–189; their
prolixity, 189—191 ; their ability,
192–193; their literary prominence,
ii. 92–93, 159–160; their influence
divided with the laity, 93-94.
Cleveland, John, i. 282.
Colden, Cadwallader, ii. 2, 3, 317;
his life, 213; his History of the Five
Indian Nations, 213–215; his cen-
sure on Smith's History of New
York, 224.
Colleges (see Education).
Colman, Benjamin, ii. 2, 3, 43,44, 88,
I34 note; biography of, by E.
Turell, I33; on Solomon Stoddard,
I69; his life and character, 171–
I74; his Sermons, 174–175.
Connecticut, the order of its coloniza-
tion, i. 6.
Cook, Ebenezer, ii. 3; his Sot-Weed
Factor, 255–259; his Sot-Weed
Redivivus, 259–26O.
Corlet, Elijah, i. 198 note.
Cotton, John, i. 3, 142, I80, Ig3, 194,
2O7, 2IQ, 250, 256, 258; ii. 74, I21,
I32 ; his scholarship, i. 99; his
elegy on Thomas Hooker, Ig& ; his
life, 2IO-2I4; his writings, 2I4–
2I5 ; his traits, 215–216; Thomas
Carlyle’s estimate of him, 213 note;
his controversy with Roger Wil-
liams, 249, 254; as a versifier, 267.
Cotton, John, of Plymouth, ii. 136
note.
Cowley, Abraham, i. 283.
Coxe, Daniel, i. 2; his Description of
Carolana, ii. 215–216; his plan of
colonial union, 216.
Crashaw, Richard, i. 282.
Crashaw, William, describes early op-
ponents of American colonization,
i. 9; his references to William
Whitaker, 46, 47.
Cromwell, Oliver, i. 66, 83, I52, 219,
277; his letter to John Cotton, 213.
Cushman, Robert, i. I59 note; his
complaint concerning the Pilgrims,
I24–I25.
Dana, Richard H., the first, i. 292
note. -
Dana, Richard H., the second, i. 292
note.
Danforth, Samuel, extract from his
epitaph, i. 27O.
Davenport, John, his scholarship, i.
99.
Davies, Sir John, i. 182.
Davies, Samuel, ii. 2; his life, 241 ;
his prophetic allusion to Washing-
ton, 242 ; as a pulpit-orator, 242 ;
his sermon on the resurrection, 242-
244. *
322
AVDA.X.
Dean, John Ward, in notes, i. 212,
228; ii. 24.
Deane, Charles, his edition of Smith's
True Relation, i. 20 note, 21 note;
his edition of Bradford's Dialogue,
II8 note ; ii. 56 note ; his paper on
the Magnalia, 80 note.
De Foe, Daniel, ii. 122, 141.
Denton, Daniel, ii. 2, 209; his Brief
Description of New York, 207–209.
Description and Narration, writers of,
i. 3, IO-II, 30-35, 39–51, I58–185;
ii. 2, 97–99, I38–I4O, 207-209, 2I5–
216, 228—230, 268-279, 282-289,
292–297. !
Dexter, Henry Martyn, his mono-
graph on Roger Williams, i. Io9
note; 25o note ; his edition of
Church's Indian Wars, ii. I40 note.
Diary, its place in literature, ii. 96.
Dickenson, Jonathan, of Pennsyl-
vania, ii. 2; his Protecting Provi-
dence, 230.
Dickinson, Jonathan, of New Jersey,
ii. 2; his life, 216–217 ; his skill as
a logician, 217 ; his Familiar Let-
ters, 217–218.
Dixon, W. Hepworth, cited, in notes,
ii. 226, 227.
Donne, John, i. 37,282, 283 note ; ii.
39.
Douglass, William, ii. 2; on Salem,
38; his life and character, I5I-I54;
his Summary, I54–I57.
Drake, Francis S., ii. 313 note.
Drake, Samuel G., in notes, ii. 23, 91 ;
his edition of Hubbard's Indian
Wars, 135 note ; his edition of
Prince, I48 note.
Drayton, Michael, i. 182, 287 note;
his farewell ode to the Virginia
colonists, I4-15; his exhortation to
George Sandys, 52–53.
Dryden, John, i. 283 ; ii. 137–219;
his estimate of Sandys, i. 58 ; his
influence on American verse, ii. 2I,
39, 43, I23. º
Dudley, Joseph, as a student of sci-
ence, ii. 312-313. -
Dudley, Paul, as a student of science,
ii. 313, 317.
Dudley, Thomas, his learning, i. 99 ;
on toleration, IoS ; his trouble with
John Winthrop, 188; as a verse-
maker, 267.
Dummer, Jeremiah, ii. 3, 88, 168 ;
his life and character, II6–II9; his
Letter to a Noble Lord, II9; his
Defence of the New England Char-
ters, II9–I2O.
Dunster, Henry, his scholarship, i.
99 ; his presidency of Harvard Col-
lege, 223; on oriental studies at
Harvard, ii. 308.
Dunton, John, of London, his ac-
count of William Hubbard, ii. 134;
of John Higginson, 16O.
Duyckinck's Cyclopaedia of Ameri-
can Literature, Simons's edition,
cited, in notes, ii. I9, 43.
Dwight, Sereno E., his edition of
Works of Jonathan Edwards, cited,
in notes, ii. I79, I80, 181, I82, I85,
I86, I87, 188, 189, I90, IQI, I92.
Dwight, Theodore, ii. 97 note.
Education in Virginia in seventeenth
century, i. 87–90; in New England
during same period, 98–IOO ; in
New York, ii. 207; in Pennsyl-
vania, 227, 234; rise of College,
306–31O.
Edwards, Jonathan, i. 207; ii. 2, 74,
217, 241 ; his life, 177–178; his pre-
cocity, 178–185; his studies in phys-
ical science, 185–186 ; his habits as
a student, I86–188; his sorrows,
187; his power as a preacher, 188–
191 ; his Sinners in the Hands of an
Angry God, I89–191 ; concluding
estimate of, Igr—I92 ; describes en-
trance examinations at Yale, 307.
Eliot, Jared, ii. 3.; as a student of
science, 312, 317.
Eliot, John, i. I53, I54, 245; his
scholarship, 99 ; his part in the Bay
Psalm Book, 275.
Eliot, John, of Boston, cited, in notes,
i. I87; ii. 66, I34, 3II.
Ellis, Alexander J., his Early English
Pronunciation, cited, ii. 3OO note.
Ellis, John Harvard, his edition of
Anne Bradstreet's works, i. 278
note ; ii. II, I5.
Endicott, John, i. IO5, Io9, I4I, I42,
I45.
English Language, as modified in
America, ii. 299-30O.
Evans, Lewis, ii. 2, 307; his Analysis
of the Middle Colonies, 240-24I.
Fantastic writers, i. 282-283; ii. 39,
87-89. -
Felt, J. B., cited, ii. 308 note.
Fisher, Joshua F., cited, in notes, ii.
232, 235.
Fleet, Henry, his Journal, i. 60 note.
AMWZXE.X.
323
Folger, Peter, ii. 3, 21; his Looking-
Glass for the Times, IQ-21 ; Frank-
lin’s reference to, 2I.
Fontaine, James, cited, ii. 265 note.
Force, Peter, his Historical Tracts,
cited in notes, i. 42, 60, 61, 80, 85,
87.
Ford, John, i. 282.
Frame, Richard, ii. 2; his Short De-
scription of Pennsylvania, 230.
Franklin, Benjamin, ii. 3, 74, 216, 227,
234, 235, 236, 244, 245, 317; his
father's family, i. 95 note ; his refer-
ence to Peter Folger, ii. 21 ; his
tribute to Cotton Mather's Bonifa-
cius, 84; his Poor Richard's Alma-
nac, 12I–I23; on Brientnal, 2I3 ; his
literary and scientific eminence
prior to I765, 251-253 ; apprecia-
tion of, by Hume, 251 ; by French
Savans, 251,316 ; on American pro-
vincialisms, 3OO ; founds first maga-
zine in America, 305.
Franklin, James, his Almanac, ii.
I22; founds the New England
Courant, 303.
Fraser, Professor A. C., his edition of
Works of Bishop Berkeley, 183 note.
Fuller, Thomas, his estimate of Capt.
John Smith, i. 36; of Sandys's
Ovid, 58.
Furman, Gabriel, his edition of Den-
ton's Brief Description, ii. 207 note.
Garden, Alexander, the clergyman,
ii. 2; his life and character, 289–
290 ; his sermons, 290 ; his hostili-
ty to Whitefield, 290–291.
Garden, Alexander, the physician, ii.
3, 288, 3I7.
Gardener, Lion, i. I51 note.
Gee, Joshua, cited, ii. 79 note.
Georgia, colonization of, i. 6 note; its
part in colonial literature, ii. 292–
297.
Godfrey, Thomas, the mathematician,
ii. 244-245, 317.
Godfrey, Thomas, the poet, ii. 3.;
his life, 245; his Juvenile Poems,
245–246; his Prince of Parthia,
246-25I.
Gookin, Daniel, i. 3; his learning,
99; his life and character, I5I-I54;
his Historical Collections of the In-
dians in New England, I55–156;
his Account of the Christian Indians
in New England, 156–157; his His-
tory of New England, I57.
Gorton, Samuel, i. Ioa, 127, 128.
Gosnold, Bartholomew, i. 18, 37.
Grahame, James, his History of
United States, cited, ii. 226 note.
Green, John Richard, i. 82 note.
Green, Joseph, ii. 3; his life, 48; his
facetiousness, 48; his impromptu
verses, 48–50; his Entertainment
for a Winter Evening, and other
satires, 50–51. -
Gridley, Jeremiah, edits American
Magazine, ii. 305.
Griswold, Rufus W., his Poets and
Poetry of America, cited, in notes,
ii. 52, 235, 240. -
Hale, Edward Everett, i. 41 note.
Hammond, John, i. 3, 60, 65 ; his
Leah and Rachel, 61–65.
Harris, Thaddeus Mason, ii. I35 note.
Hartlib, Samuel, ii. 72.
Harvard College, founded, i. 99–Ioo;
ii. 307; early requirements for ad-
mission to, 307; early course of
study in, 308.
Haven, Samuel F., ii. 79 note.
Hawks, Francis L., i. 46 note.
Hawthorne, Nathaniel, on our New
England ancestors, i. Io9; on early
New England, III.
Haynes, John, i. 99.
Hening, W. W., i. 89 note.
Herbert, George, i. 282 ; ii. 39.
Herrick, Robert, i. 283.
Higginson, Francis, i. 3; ii. I60 ; his
life, 166–167; his True Relation
and his New England's Plantation,
I67–17O.
Higginson, John, i. 194, 207; ii. 2,
38 ; lines on, by Nicholas Noyes,
4I ; his life and writings, I60-16I.
Higginson, Thomas Wentworth, cited,
in notes, i. I70, 189.
Hildreth, Richard, i. 94 note ; ii. 216
note ; on early religious intolerance
in Virginia, i. 91 note; on educa-
tion in early New England, 99.
Historical Magazine, ii. 239 note.
Historical writers, i. 3.; 69–8o ; II5–
I57; ii. 2, 131-I57, 213–215, 223-
225, 264—267, 279-282.
Holme, John, his True Relation of
Pennsylvania, ii. 230.
Holmes, Oliver Wendell, i. 292 note.
Hooke, William, i. 3, 2I5 ; his life
and writings, 219–22I his graphic
description of a battle scene, 22I.
Hooker, E. W., in notes, i. I98, 20I.
324
AVDEX.
Hooker, Thomas, i. 3, 142, 190, 207,
2I5, 269 ; his scholarship, 99; his
life and character, 193-198; his
writings, Ig8–2O4; on Richard
Mather, ii. 65.
Hopkins, Edward, extract from his
epitaph, i. 270.
Hopkins, Stephen, i. I42.
Howison, R. R., on early religious
intolerance in Virginia, i. 91 note.
Hubbard, William, i. 213 note, 216
note ; ii. 2, 22, 23 note, 132 ; on
President Dunster, i. 223 note; his
life and character, ii. 133–135; his
General History of New England,
I35; his Indian Wars, 135–138.
Hudson, Frederic, his Journalism in
the United States, cited, ii. 303
note.
Hume, David, his appreciation of
Franklin, ii. 251.
Hutchinson, Anne, i. I42.
Hutchinson, Thomas, i. 117; ii. 132;
in notes, i. 94, IO6, 188; ii. 91,
II8; on William Hubbard,133–134.
Indians, the subject of a large class of
early American writings, i. 9–Io;
descriptions of, 32, 33, 34, 161–163,
I64, 17O, I77–179; Whitaker's ap-
peal in behalf of, i. 47–48; massa-
cres by, 53, 70; wars with, i. 73–77,
I44, I47–I5I, I5I note, I53, I56–
I57, 245 ; ii. I35–144; Morrell’s
appeal in behalf of, i. 273; de-
scribed by John Lawson, ii.286–288.
Intolerance (see Religious Persecu-
tions).
Irving, Washington, ii. 266.
Jamestown, i. I7, 27, 53, 85.
Jefferson, Thomas, ii. II6; on early
religious intolerance in Virginia, i.
9I note; his criticism on Stith's
style, ii. 28O.
Johnson, Edward, i. 3, 187 note; his
life, 137; his Wonder-Working
Providence, I37–146; as a versifier,
I45.
Johnson, Samuel, of Stratford, ii. 3,
3I7.
Jones, Hugh, ii. 2; his career in Vir-
ginia, 268; his Present State of
Virginia, 269-270.
Jonson, Ben, i. 20, 35, 78, 182,
282.
Josselyn, John, i. 3; ii. 31I : his life,
i. 180–182; his New England's
Rarities, and his Two Voyages to
New England, 182—185; his cre-
dulity illustrated, I83–185.
Journalism in America, first attempts
in, ii. 93, 303-306; its influence on
colonial union, 3O4; on literature,
3O4–306.
Kalm, Peter, on colonial isolation, ii.
299.
Keimer, Samuel, ii. 235, 236.
Kettell, Samuel, his Specimens of
American Poetry, cited, in notes, ii.
2I, 49, 50, 52.
King Philip's War, i. 147, I53, I56–
I57; ii. 6, 19, 136–I38, I40–I4I.
King's College, founded, ii. 307.
Kinnersley, Ebenezer, ii. 317.
Knapp, Francis, his life, ii. 43; a dis
ciple of Pope, 43.
Knapp, Samuel L., cited, in notes, ii.
43, 5O. - -
Knight, Sarah Kemble, ii. 2; her
Journal, 97–99.
Knowles, J. D., cited, i. 245 note.
Laud, William, his persecutions of the
Puritans, i. 193, 204, 205–206, 2II,
2I2, 223, 227. -
Lawson, John, ii. 2; his coming to
America, 282 ; his description of
Charleston and the South Carolin-
ians, 282-283; his History of North
Carolina, 283—289; his tragic death,
280.
Lºrd, Thomas, his Plain Dealing,
i. Igo note.
Lee, Eliza B., i. 292 note.
Leeds, Daniel, ii. 3.; his News of a
Trumpet, etc., 209.
Leeds, Josiah W., his History of the
United States, ii. 226 note.
Literary Periods, two in our colonial
time, ii. 5–9.
Livingston, William, ii. 3, 306; his
life, 218 ; his character, 220 ; his
Philosophic Solitude, 218–220; his
travesty on the Thirty-Nine Articles,
221–222; his Review of Military
Operations in America, 222; his
poem to Eliza, 222-223.
Locke, John, i. 135; ii. I78, 219.
Logan, James, ii. 3, 233,235, 317; his
life, 231–232 ; his scholarship, 232;
his writings, 232–233.
Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth, i. 108
note, II2, I82, 2I2 note, 2IQ.
Lowell, James Russell, in notes, i. 8,
AAWDAEX.
325
94; ii. 311 ; on Wigglesworth's
Day of Doom, 34–35.
Lyford, John, satirical description of,
i. I23.
Magazines, early examples of in Amer-
ica, ii. 305-306.
Marston, John, i. 13 note.
Maryland, the order of its coloniza-
tion, i. 6; founded by Lord Balti-
more, 6o ; its earliest literature
blended with Virginia's, 6o ; John
Hammond's defence of, 61–64;
George Alsop's Character of, 65–69;
its part in later colonial literature,
ii. 255–26O.
Mason, Captain John, i. 3; ii. I40 ;
his history of Pequot War, i. 148–
I5 I.
Massachusetts Bay, i. I29, 246; the
order of its colonization, 6; its con-
servative character, 93.
Massachusetts Historical Society Col-
lections, cited, in notes, i. 50, 72, 79,
82, IO6, II 7, I48, I5I, I55, I70,
I80, I85, I87, 272 ; ii. 45, 50, 94,
95, I35, I43, I48, IQ4, 28O, 3II.
Massachusetts Historical Society Pro-
ceedings, cited, in notes, i. 79; ii.
25, 80, IOO, IO3.
Massinger, Philip, i. 282.
Mather, Cotton, ii. 2, 12, 22, 39,
40, IO4, IO6, I32 ; in notes, i. 94,
95, IOO, IO4, loff, IoS, I87, IQ5,
I96, IQ7, 198, 212, 213, 2I4, 216,
2I7, 22I, 223, 224, 27O, 27I, 275 ;
ii. 65, 66, 67, 70, 79, 96; on
Michael Wigglesworth, 24; his pre-
êminence among the Mathers, 73 ;
a victim of adulation, 74; his in-
tellectual endowments, 74–75; his
moral affectations, 75–76 ; his ascet-
icism, 76–77; his industry and at-
tainments, 78–79; the multitude of
his writings, 79–80 ; his Magnalia,
80–84; his anxieties respecting its
publication, 81–82 ; its scope, 82;
his qualifications for writing it, 82–
83; estimate of its historical char-
acter, 83–84; his Bonifacius, 84;
his Psalterium Americanum, 84 ;
his Manuductio ad Ministerium,
84–87; its advice on study of He-
brew, 85; of history, 85–86; of
natural philosophy, 86 ; its assault
on Aristotle, 86–87; his place in
American literature, 87–88; his
Fantastic style, 88; his style not l
agreeable to his later contempo-
raries, 88–89; his theory of style,
89–90 ; his biography, by Samuel
Mather, I33; his reference to Urian
Oakes, 163, 164; as a student of
Science, 3I2.
Mather, Increase, ii. 2, IoA, Iob, I17,
I32, 167; in notes, i. I48 ; ii. 91 ;
on Urian Oakes, 16; his life, 67–
69; his learning, 69; as a student,
69–70; as a pulpit-orator, 70; his
writings, 70–73; their literary merit,
7o ; his Illustrious Providences, 72–
73; as a student of science, 312.
Mather, Richard, ii. 67, 132; his
scholarship, i. 99 ; his part in the
Bay Psalm Book, 275; his life, ii.
64–66; traits of the Mather family,
66; his writings, 66; as a student,
66–67; his epitaph, 73. *
Mather, Samuel, ii. 2; his biography
of Cotton Mather, cited, in notes,
75, 76, 77, 78, 79, 89 ; its faults,
I33; his life and writings, 90–91.
May, Samuel J., his account of Mather
Byles in Hollis Street Church, ii.
I93.
Mayer, Brantz, his edition of the Sot-
Weed Factor, ii. 259 note.
Mayhew, Jonathan, ii. 2, 88, 134 note;
his great political and religious in-
fluence, 199.
Maylem, John, ii. 3.; his life, 54 note;
his Conquest of Louisburg, 53; his
Gallic Perfidy, 53–54.
McClure, A. W., cited i. 214 note.
Milton, John, i. 21, 146, 243, 295
note, 266, 283 note ; ii. 56, 72,
I23, 2II, 219; quoted, i. IOI ; his
views on toleration less liberal than
those of Roger Williams, 251–252.
Miscellaneous prose-writers, i. 3, 227—
263; ii. 3, 92–130, 212, 218–223.
Mitchell, John, ii. 3; as a student of
science, 313.
Mitchell, Jonathan, his epitaph, i. 270;
ii. 67.
Montagu, Lady Mary, on prevalence
of verse-making in her time, i. 268.
Morley, Henry, on Fantastic Writers,
i. 283 note.
Morrell, William, i. 3; his life, 271–
272; his Nova Anglia, 272-274.
Morris, Lewis, ii. 3.; his life, 2Io—
2II ; his writings, 211-212.
Morton, Nathaniel, i. 3, II? ; in notes,
IoS, 198, 213, 269, 27O ; his life, i.
126; his New England's Memorial,
326
IWDEX.
126-128; his lack of originality,
I27-128; on death of John Cotton,
2I4; Hubbard's indebtedness to
New England's Memorial, ii. 135.
Mourt’s Relation, i. 159 note.
Murphy, Henry C., his Anthology of
New Netherland, cited, ii. 206 note.
Narragansett Club Publications, cited,
in notes, i. Io9, Io9, I28, 213, 243,
245, 246, 247, 249, 250, 25I, 252,
253, 254, 256, 258, 259, 260, 26I,
262.
Narration, writers of (see Descrip-
tion). -
Neill, Edward D., his History of the
Virginia Company of London, cited,
in notes, i. 13, 17 ; his Founders of
Maryland, cited, 60 note; his Notes
on the Virginia Colonial Clergy,
cited, ii. 260 note.
New England, contrasted with Vir-
ginia, i. 83–85; its colonization,
New-Englanders, character of early, i.
94-II4, I23–125, I29; their large
families, 94–95; a race of thinkers,
96-98; their esteem for learning,
98–Ioo; their earnestness and faith
in prayer, IOO–IO4; their asceti-
cism, Ioq—IO6; their severity and in-
tolerance, Iof-109; their literary
environment, Io9–II4; their faith
in Providence, I43-I44; their atti-
tude toward poetry and art, 264–
268.
New-England Historical and Geneal-
ogical Register, cited, in notes, ii.
I5, 38, 95, 29I. &
New Hampshire, order of its coloniza-
tion, i. 6. '
New Hampshire Historical Society
Collections, cited, ii. I4I note.
New Jersey, order of its colonization,
i. 6; its part in colonial literature,
ii. 205–225.
New Jersey, College of, founded, ii.
3O7.
New York, order of its colonization,
i. 6; its characteristics under Dutch
rule, ii. 205–206 ; under English
rule, 206–207 ; its part in colonial
literature, 205-225.
New York Historical Society Collec-
tions, cited, ii. 224 note.
Nichol, Professor John, on the Bay
Psalm Book, i. 276.
Niles, Samuel, ii. 2; his History of
the Indian and French Wars, 143–
I44.
North Carolina, order of its coloniza-
tion, i. 6; sarcasms on, by William
Byrd, ii. 274–276 ; its part in colo-
nial literature, 282-289; described
by John Lawson, 283—285.
Norton, John, of Boston, i. 3; his
scholarship, 99; on toleration, Io& ;
his life and writings, 218–219.
Norton, John, of Hingham, i. 292
note ; ii. 3, I2; his life, 9; his
elegy on Anne Bradstreet, 9–II.
Noyes, Nicholas, ii. 3, 43 ; his life and
character, 38–39;... the greatest of
our Fantastic poets, 39, 40, 87 ; his
prefatory poem on the Magnalia,
39–40 ; his lines on John Higgin-
son, 41; on Joseph Green, 41 ; on
the malady of James Brayley, 42–43.
Oakes, Urian, ii. 2, 3, 134 note; his
life and character, 15–16; his high
literary capacity, I6 ; his elegy on
Thomas Shepard, 16–18; as a prose-
writer, I63–I64; his sermons, 164–
I67.
Oglethorpe, General James, Tailfer's
denunciation of, ii. 292–297.
Oldmixon, John, blunders in his
British Empire in America, ii. 264.
Oliver, Peter, ii. 3; his life, 57; his
poem on Josiah Willard, 57.
Osborn, John, ii. 3; his life and writ-
ings, 52 note.
Palfrey, John Gorham, cited, i. 95
In Ote.
Parton, James, his Life of Franklin
cited, ii. I22 note.
Peabody, A. P., ii. 24 note.
Peabody, W. B. O., ii. 76 note.
Peirce, Benjamin, his History of Har-
vard University cited, in notes, ii.
307, 308.
Pemberton, Ebenezer,
Willard, ii. 167.
Penhallow, Samuel, ii. 2, 52 note; his
life, 141 ; his History of Indian
Wars, 141–143.
Penn, William, ii. 228, 231, 235; sug-
gests colonial union, 216 note ; his
character, 226, 227.
Pennsylvania, order of its coloniza-
tion, i. 6; its part in colonial lit-
erature, 227—257; character of its
founders, 225-228 ; anonymous
poem in praise of, 239.
on Samuel
IWZXEX.
327
Pennsylvania Historical Society Me-
moirs, cited, in notes, ii. 227, 230,
23I, 232, 233, 235.
Pequot War, i. I44, 147-15I, 245.
Percy, George, i. 3, 18; in notes, 16,
17,41 ; one of the first settlers of
Virginia, 39; his Discourse of Vir-
ginia, 40-4I.
Peters, Hugh, i. I45.
Philadelphia, College of, founded, ii.
3O7.
Phillips, Wendell, i. 292 note.
Pietas et Gratulatio, ii. 3, 57–63; its
occasion, 57–58; its authors, 59
mote.
Pilgrim Fathers (see Plymouth Col-
ony).
Pinkerton, John, in notes, i. 19,
82.
Plymouth Colony, i. 246; order of its
colonization, 6 ; character of its
people, 98, I23-125.
Poems by Several Hands, its occasion
and character, ii. 55–57.
Poets (see Verse-Writers).
Pond, Enoch, ii. 69 note.
Poole, William Frederick, his edition
of Johnson's Wonder - Working
Providence, cited, in notes, i. 138,
187.
Pope, Alexander, ii. 236; his estimate
of Sandys's Ovid, i. 58; his influence
on American poetry, ii. 39, 43, 55,
I23, 218, 219, 246.
Pory, John, i. 3, 51, 55 ; his life, char-
acter, and writings, 48–51; his
sketch of the Indians, 49–50; of
the country and of pioneer life in
Virginia, 50–51.
Prince Society, i. 17O note.
Prince, Thomas, i. II.7, I28; ii. 2,
121, I5o ; in notes, i. I48, 205, 277;
ii. 78, 7.9; on Cotton Mather's style,
88–89 ; his life and character, 144-
145; his special fitness for historical
writing, 146; his Chronological
History of New England, 145–150;
on Alexander Garden, 29O.
Printing, restrictions on, in Virginia,
i. 89–90; in New England, II2–
II3; first use of in the colonies,
275; ii. I2O.
Prior, Matthew, ii. 173.
Proud, Robert, his History of Penn-
sylvania; cited, ii. 226 note.
Purchas, Samuel, i. 37, 40; in notes,
I6, I7, 41, 42.
Pynchon, William, i. 99.
Quarles, Francis, i. 180, 282, 283; ii.
39. e
Quincy, Josiah, his History of Har-
vard University, cited, in notes, i.
IOO, IOS ; ii. 307, 308.
Raleigh, Sir Walter, i. 20, 287; ii. 219.
Ralph, James, his career, ii. 236.
Ramsay, David, his History of South
Carolina, cited, ii. 290 note.
Religious Persecutions, in Virginia, i.
90–91, 152; in New England, IOT-
Io9, I40–141 ; Roger Williams on,
250, 252, 253–258, 262.
Religious Writers (see Theological
Writers).
Rhode Island, order of its coloniza-
tion, i. 6; character of its first in-
habitants, 98; excluded from first
New England Union, 246; Callen-
der's discourse on, ii. I5O-I5I.
Rhode Island College, founded, ii.
3O7.
Rhode Island Historical Society Col-
lections, cited, in notes, ii. I5O,
I5I.
Rives, William C., on early religious
intolerance in Virginia, i. 91 note.
Rogers, John, ii. 3, 15 : his life and
character, 12 ; incident during his
presidency of Harvard, 12–13; his
poem to Anne Bradstreet, I3–I5.
Rogers, Nathaniel, i. I42.
Rose, Aquila, ii. 3; his Poems on
Several Occasions, 235.
Rowe, Elizabeth, her friendship with
Benjamin Coleman, ii. 173.
Rowlandson, Mary, ii. 2; her narra-
tive of Indian Captivity, I38–139.
Rupert, Prince, characterized, by
Nathaniel Ward, i. 229; by Roger
Williams, 26o.
Sandys, George, i. 3, 59, 60, 182; his
life and character, 51–54; Dray-
ton's exhortation to him, 52-53; his
translation of Ovid's Metamor-
phoses, 52–58; story of Philomela
and Procne, 55–57; estimates of
him as a versifier, by Thomas Ful-
ler, Dryden, and Pope, 58.
Savage, James, cited, in notes, i. 98,
IO3; ii. 83, I34.
Science, writers on, i. 170–185; ii.
183–186, 231—233, 251-253, 3IO-
317; its influence on colonial union,
316; on American literature, 3I7.
Scott, John Morin, ii. 306.
328
AVZXAZX.
Scottow, Joshua, i. 27o note; ii. 3; his
Old Men's Tears for their own De-
clensions, 94; his Narration of the
Planting of Massachusetts, 95.
Seccomb, John, ii. 3; his life, 46; his
literary character, 47; his Father
Abbey's Will, 46–48.
Sedgwick, Theodore, his Life of Wil-
liam Livingston, cited, in notes, ii.
222, 223.
Sewall, Samuel, ii. 3.; his life and
character, 99–IOO ; his Selling of
Joseph, Ioo-IoI ; his Description
of the New Heaven, IoI—IO2 ; his
championship of women, IO2–IO3;
other writings, Io9 note.
Sewall, Professor Stephen, his oration
on John Winthrop of Harvard, cited,
ii. 315 note.
Shakespeare, i. 20, 282 ; germs of
the Tempest, 41–42.
Shea, John Gilmary, his edition of
Alsop's Character of Maryland,
cited, 65 note; his edition of Col-
den’s History, cited, ii. 214 note.
Shepard, Thomas, of Cambridge, i.
3, 142, 193, 215; ii. his scholarship,
i. 99; his prayer for proficiency in
note-taking, IO4; on toleration,
Io8; his life and writings, 204-2Io;
his interview with Laud, 205–206 ;
his peculiarities, 207 ; his theology
illustrated, 207-2IO.
Shepard, Thomas, of Charlestown,
elegy on, by Urian Oakes, ii. 16–18,
I63.
Sherman, John, i. 27O note; ii. 16
note, 3II.
Shippen, Joseph, ii. 3; his verses, 240.
Shirley, James, i. 282.
Sibley, John Langdon, his Harvard
Graduates, cited, in notes, i. Igo;
ii. 72; his edition of Father Abbey's
Will, cited, ii. 46 note.
Sidney, Algernon, i. I35.
Sidney, Sir Philip, i. 20, 88.
Smith, Goldwin, on the colony of
Pennsylvania, ii. 225.
Smith, Captain John, i. 3, 54, 82 note,
182 ; his character, 18–2O ; the first
American writer, 18–19; as a story-
teller, 19, 36; his services in colo-
nizing both Virginia and New Eng-
land, 19; a prolific author, 20 ; his
True Relation, 21–27 ; his tour up
the Chickahominy, 23 ; his story of
Pocahontas, 23, 25; his interviews
with Powhatan, 24–25; circum-
stances under which the book was
written, and its style, 26–27 ; his
letter to his London patrons, 27–30 ;
his Map of Virginia, 30–35; vivid
pictures of the country, climate, and
productions, 30–32; of the Indians,
32—33; of his companions, 33 ; of
Powhatan, 33–34; of the Susque-
hannocks, 34; his return to Lon-
don, and voyage to New England,
35; subsequent career, 35–36;
Thomas Fuller's estimate of him,
36; his defenders and eulogists, 36–
37 ; final estimate, 37–38; his his-
torical veracity attested by William
Stith, ii. 279, 280.
Smith, Samuel, ii. 2; his History of
New Jersey, 225.
Smith, William, of New York, ii. 2,
306 ; on neglect of education in
New York, 207; his History of New
York, cited, in notes, 210, 2II ; his
life and writings, 223–225.
Smith, William, of Pennsylvania, ii.
2; his life, 233; his General Idea
of the College of Mirania, 233—234;
as an educator, 234 ; his Discourses,
234 note ; edits American Maga-
zine, 306.
South Carolina, order of its coloniza-
tion, i. 6 ; described by John Law-
son, ii. 282-283; its part in colonial
literature, 289–291.
Sparks, Jared, his edition of Frank-
lin's Works, cited, in notes, ii. 232,
251, 300, 316, 317.
Spence, Joseph, cited, 58 note.
Spofford, Ainsworth R., his Ameri-
can Almanac, cited, ii. 121 note.
Sprague, William B., his Annals of
the American Pulpit, cited, in notes,
i. Ig8, 220, 222, 269 ; ii. 66, 72,
I69, I75, 193, IQ4, 217 ; his edition
of Davies's Sermons, cited, in notes,
242, 244. -
Standish, Captain Miles, i. 148.
Stedman, Edmund Clarence, cited, i.
265 note.
Stith, William, ii. 2, 27 note ; his life,
279; his History of Virginia, 279–
282; on James the First, 231.
Styles, Ezra, ii. 116: his orations in
Latin and in Hebrew, 308.
Stoddard, Solomon, ii. 2; his life,
169; his Answer to Some Cases of
Conscience, 169–171.
Stone, Samuel, his scholarship, i. 99 ;
threnody on, 269. • -
AVZ).A.X.
329
Stoughton, William, ii. 2; his life,
I61–162; his Narration of the Pro-
ceedings of Andros, 162; his New
England’s True Interest, not to Lie,
I62–163.
Strachey, William, i. 3, 51, 54; his
voyage to Virginia, 41 ; his . True
Reportory, 42–45; his description
of a storm at sea, 43–45.
Sylvester, Joshua, i. 282.
Tailfer, Patrick, ii. 2; his Historical
Narrative of Georgia, 292–297.
Taine, H. A., on Paradise Lost, i.
266; on the Fantastic writers, 283
In Ote.
Taylor, Jacob, ii. 3; his life and writ-
ings, 234-235.
Thacher, James, his American Medi-
cal Biography, cited, ii. I52 note.
Theological and Religious Writers, i.
3, 186—226; ii. 2, I58–2O3, 2I6-218,
233–234, 241-244, 260-263.
Thomas, Gabriel, ii. 2; his Account
of Pennsylvania, and of West New
Jersey, 228–229.
Thomas, Isaiah, his History of Print-
ing in America, cited, in notes, i.
90, II2, II3, 275 ; 11. I2O, 3O4, 305,
306.
Thompson, James, ii. 57, I23.
Ticknor, George, i. 268 note ; ii. 56
note.
Tilden's Miscellaneous Poems, ii. 52–
53.
Tompson, Benjamin, ii. 3, 79 note;
his life, 21 ; his New England’s
Crisis, 21–22 ; his minor poems,
22–23.
Trumbull, J. Hammond, his edition
of Roger Williams's Key, in notes,
i. 245, 247.
Tuckerman, Professor Edward, i. 183,
184 note ; ii. 313 note.
Tudor, William, his Life of James
Otis, cited, ii. I94 note,
Turell, Ebenezer, ii. 2, 44 note; his
Life of Benjamin Colman, I.33; his
Life of Jane Turell, I33 note.
Turell, Jane, ii. 3, 44; as a verse-
writer, I33 note.
Tyson, Job R., ii. 227 note.
Underhill, Captain John, i. I49, I5I
note.
Vane, Sir Henry, the younger, i. I42,
243.
Verse-Writers, i. 3, 51–58, 264–294;
ii. 3, 5–63, 218–223, 234-240, 244–
25I, 255–26O.
Vincent, Philip, i. 151.
Virginia, the first of the American
colonies, i. 5, 6, 17, 93; described
by John Pory, , 5o ; defended by
John Hammond, 61–64; rebellion
in, 69–77 ; its literary barrenness,
and the causes, 80–92; contrasted
with New England, 83–85; its dis-
persed social organization, 84–87;
neglect of education, 87–90 ; re-
ligious intolerance, 90–91 ; its part
in later colonial literature, ii. 260–
282.
Virginians, character of early, i. 18,
62, 81–92; ii. 272-273.
Walker, Francis A., on the population
of early New England, i. 94 note.
Walton, Izaak, i. I7I.
Ward, Nathaniel, i. 3, 212 note; his
Scholarship, 99; on toleration, IO8;
on long sermons, Igo; his life, 227—
229; his Simple Cobbler of Aga-
wam, 229–241 ; on Prince Rupert,
229; mental traits of Ward, 231–
232; satire on fashionable women,
236-237; his discussion of the
troubles in England, 237–238.
Washington, George, on early religious
intolerance in Virginia, i. 91 note;
prophetic allusions to, by Samuel
Davies, ii. 242.
Waterland, Daniel, edits and com-
mends Sermons of James Blair, ii.
262.
Watson, John F., his Annals of Phila-
delphia, cited, in notes, ii. 232, 237.
Watts, Isaac, ii. 44, 219.
Webb, George, ii. 3; his career, 236;
his Bachelors' Hall, 237–238.
Webbe, John, ii. 3; his Discourse on
Paper-Money, ii. 240.
Webster, John, i. 282.
Welde, Thomas, his part in the Bay
Psalm Book, i. 275.
Westcott, Thompson, his History of
Philadelphia, cited, ii. 283 note.
Wharton, Thomas I., his Provincial
Literature of Pennsylvania, cited, in
notes, ii. 227, 228.
Whitaker, Alexander, i. 3, 55, 80; his
life and character, 45–46; his Good
News from Virginia, 47–48.
White, Father Andrew, his Relatio
Itineris in Marylandum, i. 60.
33O
AMDAE.X.
Whittier, John Greenleaf, i. 180; his
Prophecy of Samuel Sewall, ii. Ioo,
IO2.
Whitwell, William, on John Barnard,
11. I75.
Wigglesworth, Michael, ii. 3, 35; his
life and character, 23–24; as a poet,
24–25 ; his God's Controversy with
New England, 25–26; his Meat out
of the Eater, 27; his Day of Doom,
27–35.
Wigglesworth, Samuel, ii. 3; his life,
35; º elegy on Nathaniel Clarke,
35-38.
Willard, Samuel, ii. 2; his life, 167;
his Body of Divinity, 167–169.
William and Mary College, founded,
i. 88 ; ii. 260, 307; Commence-
ment at in 1700, 261 ; its poverty
lamented by Hugh Jones, 269.
Williams, John, ii. 2; his Redeemed
Captive, I39–I40; as a student of
Science, 3I2.
Williams, Roger, i. 3, 128 ; his schol-
arship, i. 99; his reference to Mor-
ton’s Memorial, 128 note ; on John
Cotton, 212 ; his life and character,
241–246 ; his writings, 247–263;
his Key, 247–248; his answer to
John Cotton, 249–250 ; his book
against a national church, 250–252 ;
his Bloody Tenet of Persecution,
253–254: Cotton's reply and Wil-
liams's rejoinder, 254–258; his book
against George Fox, 259 ; his letters,
259—263; his celebrated letter to the
people of Providence on the limits
of personal liberty, 261-263.
Williamson, H., his History of North
Carolina, cited, i. 72 note.
Wilson, John, i. 187, 188; as a versi-
fier, 27I.
Winslow, Edward, i. 3, 126, 127; his
Journal, I59–163; his letter ap-
pended thereto, 163; his Good News
from New England, 164–166; on
Roger Williams, 242.
Winsor, Justin, his Catalogue of the
Prince Library, i. 215 note ; ii. I45
FEB 9
Winthrop, FitzJohn, as a student of
Science, Il. 3I2.
Winthrop, John, of Connecticut, i.
IO2, I28 note, 243, 260; ii. 45;
his learning, i. 99 ; story concern-
ing his Prayer-Book, IO2–103; as a
student of science, ii. 311-312.
Winthrop, John, of Harvard College,
ii. 3, 317; his life and character,
3I4–3I5 ; his eminence in science,
3I5–3I6.
Winthrop, John, of Massachusetts, i.
3, 142, I80, 188, 243; ii. 31I : in
notes, i. IO2, IO3, IO7; ii. 83; his
learning, i. 99; his life and writ-
ings, 128–136; his Model of Chris-
tian Charity, 129–130; his History
of New England, I30–136; his fa-
mous speech on human liberty, I35–
I36 ; Hubbard's indebtedness to,
ii. I35.
Winthrop, Robert C., his Life and
Letters of John Winthrop, cited, i.
I35 note.
Wise, John, ii. 3; his life and charac-
ter, IO4–IO5; his Churches' Quar-
rel Espoused, IO6–IIo; his Vindi-
cation, IIO-II4; his style, II4–II6,
I34 note.
Wither, George, i. 37,282, 283; ii. 39.
Wolcott, Roger, ii. 3.; his life and
character, 44; his Connecticut epic,
45; his Political Meditations, 45–46.
Wood, William, i. 3 ; ii. 31I ; his
New England's Prospect, i. I70—
179; his powers of description il-
lustrated, I72–175 ; playful sketches
of the Indians, I77–I79.
Wynne, Thomas H., his edition of
Byrd Manuscripts, ii. 272.
Yale College, founded, ii. 307; early
requirements for admission to, 307.
Yeardly, Sir George, i. 48, 49.
Young, Alexander, his Chronicles,
cited, in notes, i. IO2, IO4, IO5, IIo,
I59, I60, IóI, I62, I63, I64, I65,
I66, I67, I68, I69, I70, 205, 206;
ii 65, 66, I35.
Young, Edward, ii. 57.
1920
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