English travellers would not be wholly lost. The new and unexpected
aspect of our extensive settlements; of our fine rivers; that great
field of action everywhere visible; that ease, that peace with which
so many people live together, would greatly interest the observer:
for whatever difficulties there might happen in the object of their
researches, that hospitality which prevails from one end of the
continent to the other would in all parts facilitate their
excursions. As it is from the surface of the ground which we till
that we have gathered the wealth we possess, the surface of that
ground is therefore the only thing that has hitherto been known. It
will require the industry of subsequent ages, the energy of future
generations, ere mankind here will have leisure and abilities to
penetrate deep, and, in the bowels of this continent, search for the
subterranean riches it no doubt contains.--Neighbour James, we want
much the assistance of men of leisure and knowledge, we want eminent
chemists to inform our iron masters; to teach us how to make and
prepare most of the colours we use. Here we have none equal to this
task. If any useful discoveries are therefore made among us, they
are the effects of chance, or else arise from that restless industry
which is the principal characteristic of these colonies.
James: Oh! could I express myself as you do, my friend, I should not
balance a single instant, I should rather be anxious to commence a
correspondence which would do me credit.
Minister: You can write full as well as you need, and will improve
very fast; trust to my prophecy, your letters, at least, will have
the merit of coming from the edge of the great wilderness, three
hundred miles from the sea, and three thousand miles over that sea:
this will be no detriment to them, take my word for it. You intend
one of your children for the gown, who knows but Mr. F. B. may give
you some assistance when the lad comes to have concerns with the
bishop; it is good for American farmers to have friends even in
England. What he requires of you is but simple--what we speak out
among ourselves we call conversation, and a letter is only
conversation put down in black and white.
James: You quite persuade me--if he laughs at my awkwardness, surely
he will be pleased with my ready compliance. On my part, it will be
well meant let the execution be what it may. I will write enough,
and so let him have the trouble of sifting the good from the bad,
the useful from the trifling; let him select what he may want, and
reject what may not answer his purpose. After all, it is but
treating Mr. F. B. now that he is in London, as I treated him when
he was in America under this roof; that is with the best things I
had; given with a good intention; and the best manner I was able.
Very different, James, very different indeed, said my wife, I like
not thy comparison; our small house and cellar, our orchard and
garden afforded what he wanted; one half of his time Mr. F. B., poor
man, lived upon nothing but fruit-pies, or peaches and milk. Now
these things were such as God had given us, myself and wench did the
rest; we were not the creators of these victuals, we only cooked
them as well and as neat as we could. The first thing, James, is to
know what sort of materials thee hast within thy own self, and then
whether thee canst dish them up.--Well, well, wife, thee art wrong
for once; if I was filled with worldly vanity, thy rebuke would be
timely, but thee knowest that I have but little of that. How shall I
know what I am capable of till I try? Hadst thee never employed
thyself in thy father's house to learn and to practise the many
branches of house-keeping that thy parents were famous for, thee
wouldst have made but a sorry wife for an American farmer; thee
never shouldst have been mine. I married thee not for what thee
hadst, but for what thee knewest; doest not thee observe what Mr. F.
B. says beside; he tells me, that the art of writing is just like
unto every other art of man; that it is acquired by habit, and by
perseverance. That is singularly true, said our minister, he that
shall write a letter every day of the week, will on Saturday
perceive the sixth flowing from his pen much more readily than the
first. I observed when I first entered into the ministry and began
to preach the word, I felt perplexed and dry, my mind was like unto
a parched soil, which produced nothing, not even weeds. By the
blessing of heaven, and my perseverance in study, I grew richer in
thoughts, phrases, and words; I felt copious, and now I can
abundantly preach from any text that occurs to my mind. So will it
be with you, neighbour James; begin therefore without delay; and Mr.
F. B.'s letters may be of great service to you: he will, no doubt,
inform you of many things: correspondence consists in reciprocal
letters. Leave off your diffidence, and I will do my best to help
you whenever I have any leisure. Well then, I am resolved, I said,
to follow your counsel; my letters shall not be sent, nor will I
receive any, without reading them to you and my wife; women are
curious, they love to know their husband's secrets; it will not be
the first thing which I have submitted to your joint opinions.
Whenever you come to dine with us, these shall be the last dish on
the table. Nor will they be the most unpalatable, answered the good
man. Nature hath given you a tolerable share of sense, and that is
one of her best gifts let me tell you. She has given you besides
some perspicuity, which qualifies you to distinguish interesting
objects; a warmth of imagination which enables you to think with
quickness; you often extract useful reflections from objects which
presented none to my mind: you have a tender and a well meaning
heart, you love description, and your pencil, assure yourself, is
not a bad one for the pencil of a farmer; it seems to be held
without any labour; your mind is what we called at Yale college a
Tabula rasa, where spontaneous and strong impressions are delineated
with facility. Ah, neighbour! had you received but half the
education of Mr. F. B. you had been a worthy correspondent indeed.
But perhaps you will be a more entertaining one dressed in your
simple American garb, than if you were clad in all the gowns of
Cambridge. You will appear to him something like one of our wild
American plants, irregularly luxuriant in its various branches,
which an European scholar may probably think ill placed and useless.
If our soil is not remarkable as yet for the excellence of its
fruits, this exuberance is however a strong proof of fertility,
which wants nothing but the progressive knowledge acquired by time
to amend and to correct. It is easier to retrench than it is to add;
I do not mean to flatter you, neighbour James, adulation would ill
become my character, you may therefore believe what your pastor
says. Were I in Europe I should be tired with perpetually seeing
espaliers, plashed hedges, and trees dwarfed into pigmies. Do let
Mr. F. B. see on paper a few American wild cherry trees, such as
nature forms them here, in all her unconfined vigour, in all the
amplitude of their extended limbs and spreading ramifications--let
him see that we are possessed with strong vegetative embryos. After
all, why should not a farmer be allowed to make use of his mental
faculties as well as others; because a man works, is not he to
think, and if he thinks usefully, why should not he in his leisure
hours set down his thoughts? I have composed many a good sermon as I
followed my plough. The eyes not being then engaged on any
particular object, leaves the mind free for the introduction of many
useful ideas. It is not in the noisy shop of a blacksmith or of a
carpenter, that these studious moments can be enjoyed; it is as we
silently till the ground, and muse along the odoriferous furrows of
our low lands, uninterrupted either by stones or stumps; it is there
that the salubrious effluvia of the earth animate our spirits and
serve to inspire us; every other avocation of our farms are severe
labours compared to this pleasing occupation: of all the tasks which
mine imposes on me ploughing is the most agreeable, because I can
think as I work; my mind is at leisure; my labour flows from
instinct, as well as that of my horses; there is no kind of
difference between us in our different shares of that operation; one
of them keeps the furrow, the other avoids it; at the end of my
field they turn either to the right or left as they are bid, whilst
I thoughtlessly hold and guide the plough to which they are
harnessed. Do therefore, neighbour, begin this correspondence, and
persevere, difficulties will vanish in proportion as you draw near
them; you'll be surprised at yourself by and by: when you come to
look back you'll say as I have often said to myself; had I been
diffident I had never proceeded thus far. Would you painfully till
your stony up-land and neglect the fine rich bottom which lies
before your door? Had you never tried, you never had learned how to
mend and make your ploughs. It will be no small pleasure to your
children to tell hereafter, that their father was not only one of
the most industrious farmers in the country, but one of the best
writers. When you have once begun, do as when you begin breaking up
your summer fallow, you never consider what remains to be done, you
view only what you have ploughed. Therefore, neighbour James, take
my advice; it will go well with you, I am sure it will.--And do you
really think so, Sir? Your counsel, which I have long followed,
weighs much with me, I verily believe that I must write to Mr. F. B.
by the first vessel.--If thee persistest in being such a foolhardy
man, said my wife, for God's sake let it be kept a profound secret
among us; if it were once known abroad that thee writest to a great
and rich man over at London, there would be no end of the talk of
the people; some would vow that thee art going to turn an author,
others would pretend to foresee some great alterations in the
welfare of thy family; some would say this, some would say that: Who
would wish to become the subject of public talk? Weigh this matter
well before thee beginnest, James--consider that a great deal of thy
time, and of thy reputation is at stake as I may say. Wert thee to
write as well as friend Edmund, whose speeches I often see in our
papers, it would be the very self same thing; thee wouldst be
equally accused of idleness, and vain notions not befitting thy
condition. Our colonel would be often coming here to know what it is
that thee canst write so much about. Some would imagine that thee
wantest to become either an assembly-man or a magistrate, which God
forbid; and that thee art telling the king's men abundance of
things. Instead of being well looked upon as now, and living in
peace with all the world, our neighbours would be making strange
surmises: I had rather be as we are, neither better nor worse than
the rest of our country folks. Thee knowest what I mean, though I
should be sorry to deprive thee of any honest recreation. Therefore
as I have said before, let it be as great a secret as if it was some
heinous crime; the minister, I am sure, will not divulge it; as for
my part, though I am a woman, yet I know what it is to be a wife.--I
would not have thee, James, pass for what the world calleth a
writer; no, not for a peck of gold, as the saying is. Thy father
before thee was a plain dealing honest man, punctual in all things;
he was one of yea and nay, of few words, all he minded was his farm
and his work. I wonder from whence thee hast got this love of the
pen? Had he spent his time in sending epistles to and fro, he never
would have left thee this goodly plantation, free from debt. All I
say is in good meaning; great people over sea may write to our
town's folks, because they have nothing else to do. These Englishmen
are strange people; because they can live upon what they call bank
notes, without working, they think that all the world can do the
same. This goodly country never would have been tilled and cleared
with these notes. I am sure when Mr. F. B. was here, he saw thee
sweat and take abundance of pains; he often told me how the
Americans worked a great deal harder than the home Englishmen; for
there he told us, that they have no trees to cut down, no fences to
make, no negroes to buy and to clothe: and now I think on it, when
wilt thee send him those trees he bespoke? But if they have no trees
to cut down, they have gold in abundance, they say; for they rake it
and scrape it from all parts far and near. I have often heard my
grandfather tell how they live there by writing. By writing they
send this cargo unto us, that to the West, and the other to the East
Indies. But, James, thee knowest that it is not by writing that we
shall pay the blacksmith, the minister, the weaver, the tailor, and
the English shop. But as thee art an early man follow thine own
inclinations; thee wantest some rest, I am sure, and why shouldst
thee not employ it as it may seem meet unto thee.--However let it be
a great secret; how wouldst thee bear to be called at our country
meetings, the man of the pen? If this scheme of thine was once
known, travellers as they go along would point out to our house,
saying, here liveth the scribbling fanner; better hear them as usual
observe, here liveth the warm substantial family, that never
begrudgeth a meal of victuals, or a mess of oats, to any one that
steps in. Look how fat and well clad their negroes are.
Thus, Sir, have I given you an unaffected and candid detail of the
conversation which determined me to accept of your invitation. I
thought it necessary thus to begin, and to let you into these
primary secrets, to the end that you may not hereafter reproach me
with any degree of presumption. You'll plainly see the motives which
have induced me to begin, the fears which I have entertained, and
the principles on which my diffidence hath been founded. I have now
nothing to do but to prosecute my task--Remember you are to give me
my subjects, and on no other shall I write, lest you should blame me
for an injudicious choice--However incorrect my style, however
unexpert my methods, however trifling my observations may hereafter
appear to you, assure yourself they will all be the genuine dictates
of my mind, and I hope will prove acceptable on that account.
Remember that you have laid the foundation of this correspondence;
you well know that I am neither a philosopher, politician, divine,
nor naturalist, but a simple farmer. I flatter myself, therefore,
that you'll receive my letters as conceived, not according to
scientific rules to which I am a perfect stranger, but agreeable to
the spontaneous impressions which each subject may inspire. This is
the only line I am able to follow, the line which nature has herself
traced for me; this was the covenant which I made with you, and with
which you seemed to be well pleased. Had you wanted the style of the
learned, the reflections of the patriot, the discussions of the
politician, the curious observations of the naturalist, the pleasing
garb of the man of taste, surely you would have applied to some of
those men of letters with which our cities abound. But since on the
contrary, and for what reason I know not, you wish to correspond
with a cultivator of the earth, with a simple citizen, you must
receive my letters for better or worse.
LETTER II
ON THE SITUATION, FEELINGS, AND PLEASURES, OF AN AMERICAN FARMER
As you are the first enlightened European I have ever had the
pleasure of being acquainted with, you will not be surprised that I
should, according to your earnest desire and my promise, appear
anxious of preserving your friendship and correspondence. By your
accounts, I observe a material difference subsists between your
husbandry, modes, and customs, and ours; everything is local; could
we enjoy the advantages of the English farmer, we should be much
happier, indeed, but this wish, like many others, implies a
contradiction; and could the English farmer have some of those
privileges we possess, they would be the first of their class in the
world. Good and evil I see is to be found in all societies, and it
is in vain to seek for any spot where those ingredients are not
mixed. I therefore rest satisfied, and thank God that my lot is to
be an American farmer, instead of a Russian boor, or an Hungarian
peasant. I thank you kindly for the idea, however dreadful, which
you have given me of their lot and condition; your observations have
confirmed me in the justness of my ideas, and I am happier now than
I thought myself before. It is strange that misery, when viewed in
others, should become to us a sort of real good, though I am far
from rejoicing to hear that there are in the world men so thoroughly
wretched; they are no doubt as harmless, industrious, and willing to
work as we are. Hard is their fate to be thus condemned to a slavery
worse than that of our negroes. Yet when young I entertained some
thoughts of selling my farm. I thought it afforded but a dull
repetition of the same labours and pleasures. I thought the former
tedious and heavy, the latter few and insipid; but when I came to
consider myself as divested of my farm, I then found the world so
wide, and every place so full, that I began to fear lest there would
be no room for me. My farm, my house, my barn, presented to my
imagination objects from which I adduced quite new ideas; they were
more forcible than before. Why should not I find myself happy, said
I, where my father was before? He left me no good books it is true,
he gave me no other education than the art of reading and writing;
but he left me a good farm, and his experience; he left me free from
debts, and no kind of difficulties to struggle with.--I married, and
this perfectly reconciled me to my situation; my wife rendered my
house all at once cheerful and pleasing; it no longer appeared
gloomy and solitary as before; when I went to work in my fields I
worked with more alacrity and sprightliness; I felt that I did not
work for myself alone, and this encouraged me much. My wife would
often come with her knitting in her hand, and sit under the shady
trees, praising the straightness of my furrows, and the docility of
my horses; this swelled my heart and made everything light and
pleasant, and I regretted that I had not married before.
I felt myself happy in my new situation, and where is that station
which can confer a more substantial system of felicity than that of
an American farmer, possessing freedom of action, freedom of
thoughts, ruled by a mode of government which requires but little
from us? I owe nothing, but a pepper corn to my country, a small
tribute to my king, with loyalty and due respect; I know no other
landlord than the lord of all land, to whom I owe the most sincere
gratitude. My father left me three hundred and seventy-one acres of
land, forty-seven of which are good timothy meadow, an excellent
orchard, a good house, and a substantial barn. It is my duty to
think how happy I am that he lived to build and to pay for all these
improvements; what are the labours which I have to undergo, what are
my fatigues when compared to his, who had everything to do, from the
first tree he felled to the finishing of his house? Every year I
kill from 1500 to 2000 weight of pork, 1200 of beef, half a dozen of
good wethers in harvest: of fowls my wife has always a great stock:
what can I wish more? My negroes are tolerably faithful and healthy;
by a long series of industry and honest dealings, my father left
behind him the name of a good man; I have but to tread his paths to
be happy and a good man like him. I know enough of the law to
regulate my little concerns with propriety, nor do I dread its
power; these are the grand outlines of my situation, but as I can
feel much more than I am able to express, I hardly know how to
proceed.
When my first son was born, the whole train of my ideas were
suddenly altered; never was there a charm that acted so quickly and
powerfully; I ceased to ramble in imagination through the wide
world; my excursions since have not exceeded the bounds of my farm,
and all my principal pleasures are now centred within its scanty
limits: but at the same time there is not an operation belonging to
it in which I do not find some food for useful reflections. This is
the reason, I suppose, that when you was here, you used, in your
refined style, to denominate me the farmer of feelings; how rude
must those feelings be in him who daily holds the axe or the plough,
how much more refined on the contrary those of the European, whose
mind is improved by education, example, books, and by every acquired
advantage! Those feelings, however, I will delineate as well as I
can, agreeably to your earnest request.
When I contemplate my wife, by my fire-side, while she either spins,
knits, darns, or suckles our child, I cannot describe the various
emotions of love, of gratitude, of conscious pride, which thrill in
my heart and often overflow in involuntary tears. I feel the
necessity, the sweet pleasure of acting my part, the part of an
husband and father, with an attention and propriety which may
entitle me to my good fortune. It is true these pleasing images
vanish with the smoke of my pipe, but though they disappear from my
mind, the impression they have made on my heart is indelible. When I
play with the infant, my warm imagination runs forward, and eagerly
anticipates his future temper and constitution. I would willingly
open the book of fate, and know in which page his destiny is
delineated; alas! where is the father who in those moments of
paternal ecstasy can delineate one half of the thoughts which dilate
his heart? I am sure I cannot; then again I fear for the health of
those who are become so dear to me, and in their sicknesses I
severely pay for the joys I experienced while they were well.
Whenever I go abroad it is always involuntary. I never return home
without feeling some pleasing emotion, which I often suppress as
useless and foolish. The instant I enter on my own land, the bright
idea of property, of exclusive right, of independence exalt my mind.
Precious soil, I say to myself, by what singular custom of law is it
that thou wast made to constitute the riches of the freeholder? What
should we American farmers be without the distinct possession of
that soil? It feeds, it clothes us, from it we draw even a great
exuberancy, our best meat, our richest drink, the very honey of our
bees comes from this. privileged spot. No wonder we should thus
cherish its possession, no wonder that so many Europeans who have
never been able to say that such portion of land was theirs, cross
the Atlantic to realise that happiness. This formerly rude soil has
been converted by my father into a pleasant farm, and in return it
has established all our rights; on it is founded our rank, our
freedom, our power as citizens, our importance as inhabitants of
such a district. These images I must confess I always behold with
pleasure, and extend them as far as my imagination can reach: for
this is what may be called the true and the only philosophy of an
American farmer.