SELECTIONS FROM AMERICAN LITERATURE. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. |
I recommend the study of Franklin to all young people; he was a real philanthropist, a wonderful man. It was said that it was honor enough to any one country to have produced such a man as Franklin.—Sydney Smith. A man who makes a great figure in the learned world; and who would still make a greater figure for benevolence and candor were virtue as much regarded in this declining age as knowledge.—Lord Kaimes. He was a great experimental philosopher, a consummate politician, and a paragon of common sense.—Edinburgh Review. He has in no instance exhibited that false dignity by which science is kept aloof from common application; and he has sought rather to make her an useful inmate and servant in the common habitations of man, than to preserve her merely as an object of admiration in temples and palaces.—Sir Humphrey Davy. His style has all the vigor, and even conciseness of Swift, without any of his harshness. It is in no degree more flowery, yet both elegant and lively.—Lord Jeffrey. When he left Passy it seemed as if the village had lost its patriarch.—Thomas Jefferson. Extracts From Poor Richard’s Almanac. “Love well, whip well.” “The proof of gold is fire; the proof of woman, gold; the proof of man, a woman.” “There is no little enemy.” “Necessity never made a good bargain.” “Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead.” “Deny self for self’s sake.” “Keep thy shop, and thy shop will keep thee.” “Here comes the orator, with his flood of words and his drop of reason.” “Sal laughs at everything you say; why? because she has fine teeth.” “An old young man will be a young old man.” “He is no clown that drives the plow, but he that does clownish things.” “Diligence is the mother of good luck.” “Wealth is not his that has it, but his that enjoys it.” “He that can have patience can have what he will.” “Good wives and good plantations are made by good husbands.” “God heals, the doctor takes the fee.” “The noblest question in the world is, What good may I do in it?” “There are three faithful friends, an old wife, an old dog, and ready money.” “Who has deceived thee so oft as thyself?” “Fly pleasures, and they will follow you.” “Hast thou virtue? Acquire also the graces and beauties of virtue.” “Keep your eyes wide open before marriage; half shut afterward.” “As we must account for every idle word, so we must for every idle silence.” “Search others for their virtues, thyself for thy vices.” “Grace thou thy house, and let not that grace thee.” “Let thy child’s first lesson be obedience, and the second will be what thou will.” “Let thy discontents be thy secrets.” “Happy that nation, fortunate that age, whose history is not diverting.” “There are lazy minds, as well as lazy bodies.” “Tricks and treachery are the practice of fools, who have not wit enough to be honest.” “Let no pleasure tempt thee, no profit allure thee, no ambition corrupt thee, no example sway thee, no persuasion move thee, to do anything which thou knowest to be evil; so shalt thou always live jollily, for a good conscience is a continual Christmas.” “Altho’ thy teacher act not as he preaches, Yet ne’ertheless, if good, do what he teaches; Good counsel failing men may give, for why? He that’s aground knows where the shoal doth lie. My old friend Berryman, oft when alive, Taught others thrift, himself could never thrive. Thus like the whetstone, many men are wont To sharpen others while themselves are blunt.” Poetry for December, 1834. “He that for the sake of drink neglects his trade, And spends each night in taverns till ’tis late, And rises when the sun is four hours high, And ne’er regards his starving family, God in his mercy may do much to save him, But, woe to the poor wife, whose lot it is to have him.” An Astronomical Notice. During the first visible eclipse Saturn is retrograde: for which reason the crabs will go sidelong, and the rope-makers backward. Mercury will have his share in these affairs, and so confound the speech of the people, that when a Pennsylvanian would say panther, he shall say painter. When a New Yorker thinks to say this, he shall say diss, and the people in New England and Cape May will not be able to say cow for their lives, but will be forced to say keow, by a certain involuntary twist in the root of their tongues. No Connecticut man nor Marylander will be able to open his mouth this year but sir shall be the first or last syllable he pronounces, and sometimes both. Brutes shall speak in many places, and there will be about seven and twenty irregular verbs made this year if grammar don’t interpose. Who can help these misfortunes? This year the stone-blind shall see but very little; the deaf shall hear but poorly; and the dumb sha’n’t speak very plain. As to old age, it will be incurable this year, because of the years past. And toward the fall some people will be seized with an unaccountable inclination to roast and eat their own ears: Should this be called madness, doctors? I think not. But the worst disease of all will be a most horrid, dreadful, malignant, catching, perverse, and odious malady, almost epidemical, insomuch that many shall seem mad upon it. I quake for very fear when I think on’t; for I assure you very few shall escape this disease, which is called by the learned Albromazer—Lacko’mony.
GEORGE WASHINGTON. His papers which have been preserved show how he gained the power of writing correctly—always expressing himself with clearness and directness, often with felicity and grace.—George Bancroft. No one who has not been in England can have an idea of the admiration expressed among all parties for General Washington.—Rufus King, 1797. * * * The great central figure of that unparalleled group, that “noble army” of chieftains, sages, and patriots, by whom the revolution was accomplished.—Edward Everett. He had in his composition a calm which gave him in moments of highest excitement the power of self-control, and enabled him to excel in patience.—Bancroft. Account of the Battle of Trenton. Headquarters, Morristown, Dec. 27, 1776. To the President of Congress: Sir—I have the pleasure of congratulating you upon the success of an enterprise which I had formed against a detachment of the enemy lying in Trenton, and which was executed yesterday morning. The evening of the twenty-fifth I ordered the troops intended for this service to parade back of McKonkey’s ferry, that they might begin to pass as soon as it grew dark, imagining we should be able to throw them all over, with the necessary artillery, by twelve o’clock, and that we might easily arrive at Trenton by five in the morning, the distance being about nine miles. But the quantity of ice made that night impeded the passage of the boats so much that it was three o’clock before the artillery could all be got over; and near four before the troops took up their line of march. This made me despair of surprising the town, as I well knew we could not reach it before the day was fairly broke. But as I was certain there was no making a retreat without being discovered, and harassed on re-passing the river, I determined to push on at all events. I formed my detachment into two divisions, one to march by the lower or river road, the other by the upper or Pennington road. As the divisions had nearly the same distance to march, I ordered each of them, immediately upon forcing the out-guards, to push directly into the town, that they might charge the enemy before they had time to form. The upper division arrived at the enemy’s advanced post exactly at eight o’clock: and in three minutes after I found, from the fire on the lower road, that that division had also got up. The out-guards made but small opposition, though, for their numbers, they behaved very well, keeping up a constant retreating fire from behind houses. We presently saw their main body formed; but from their motions, they seemed undetermined how to act. Being hard pressed by our troops, who had already got possession of their artillery, they attempted to file off by a road on their right, leading to Princeton. But, perceiving their intention, I threw a body of troops in their way; which immediately checked them. Finding, from our disposition, that they were surrounded, and that they must inevitably be cut to pieces if they made any further resistance, they agreed to lay down their arms. The number that submitted in this manner was twenty-three officers and eight hundred and eighty-six men. Colonel Rahl, the commanding officer, and seven others, were found wounded in the town. I do not exactly know how many they had killed; but I fancy not above twenty or thirty, as they never made any regular stand. Our loss is very trifling indeed—only two officers and one or two privates wounded. I find that the detachment consisted of the three Hessian regiments of Lanspach, Kniphausen, and Rahl, amounting to about fifteen hundred men, and a troop of British light horse; but immediately upon the beginning of the attack, all those who were not killed or taken pushed directly down toward Bordentown. These would likewise have fallen into our hands could my plan have been completely carried into execution. General Ewing was to have crossed before day at Trenton ferry, and taken possession of the bridge leading out of town; but the quantity of ice was so great that, though he did every thing in his power to effect it, he could not get over. This difficulty also hindered General Cadwallader from crossing with the Pennsylvania militia from Bristol. He got part of his foot over; but finding it impossible to embark his artillery, he was obliged to desist. I am fully confident that, could the troops under Generals Ewing and Cadwallader have passed the river, I should have been able, with their assistance, to have driven the enemy from all their posts below Trenton. But the numbers I had with me being inferior to theirs below me, and a strong battalion of light infantry being at Princeton above me, I thought it most prudent to return the same evening with the prisoners and the artillery we had taken. We found no stores of any consequence in the town. In justice to the officers and men, I must add that their behavior upon this occasion reflects the highest honor upon them. The difficulty of passing the river in a very severe night, and their march through a violent storm of snow and hail, did not in the least abate their ardor; but when they came to the charge each seemed to vie with the other in pressing forward; and were I to give a preference to any particular corps I should do great injustice to the others. Colonel Baylor, my first aid-de-camp, will have the honor of delivering this to you; and from him you may be made acquainted with many other particulars. His spirited behavior upon every occasion requires me to recommend him to your particular notice. I have the honor to be, etc., G. W.
THOMAS JEFFERSON. As a composition, the Declaration [of Independence] is Mr. Jefferson’s. It is the production of his mind, and the high honor of it belongs to him clearly and absolutely. To say that he performed his great work well would be doing him an injustice. To say that he did excellently well, admirably well, would be inadequate and halting praise. Let us rather say that he so discharged the duty assigned him that all Americans may well rejoice that the work of drawing the title-deed of their liberties devolved upon him.—Daniel Webster. After Washington and Franklin there is no person who fills so eminent a place among the great men of America as Jefferson.—Lord Brougham. Washington. His mind was great and powerful, without being of the very first order; his penetration strong, though not so acute as that of a Newton, Bacon, or Locke; and as far as he saw, no judgment was ever sounder. It was slow in operation, being little aided by invention or imagination, but sure in conclusion. Hence the common remark of his officers, of the advantage he derived from councils of war, where, hearing all suggestions, he selected whatever was best; and certainly no general ever planned his battles more judiciously. But if deranged during the course of the action, if any member of his plan was dislocated by sudden circumstances, he was slow in a re-adjustment. The consequence was, that he often failed in the field, and rarely against an enemy in station, as at Boston and York. He was incapable of fear, meeting personal dangers with the calmest unconcern. Perhaps the strongest feature in his character was prudence, never acting until every circumstance, every consideration was maturely weighed; refraining if he saw a doubt, but when once decided, going through with his purpose, whatever obstacles opposed. His integrity was most pure, his justice the most inflexible I have ever known; no motives of interest or consanguinity, of friendship or hatred, being able to bias his decision. He was, indeed, in every sense of the word, a wise, a good, and a great man. His temper was naturally irritable and high-toned; but reflection and resolution had obtained a firm and habitual ascendency over it. If ever, however, it broke its bounds, he was most tremendous in his wrath. In his expenses he was honorable, but exact; liberal in contributions to whatever promised utility; but frowning and unyielding on all visionary projects, and all unworthy calls on his charity. His heart was not warm in its affections; but he exactly calculated every man’s value, and gave him a solid esteem proportioned to it. His person, you know, was fine, his stature exactly what one would wish; his deportment easy, erect, and noble, the best horseman of his age, and the most graceful figure that could be seen on horseback. Although in the circle of his friends, where he might be unreserved with safety, he took a free share in conversation, his colloquial talents were not above mediocrity, possessing neither copiousness of ideas nor fluency of words. In public, when called on for a sudden opinion, he was unready, short, and embarrassed. Yet he wrote readily, rather diffusely, in an easy and correct style. This he had acquired by conversation with the world, for his education was merely reading, writing, and common arithmetic, to which he added surveying at a later day. His time was employed in action chiefly, reading little, and that only in agriculture and English history. His correspondence became necessarily extensive, and with journalizing his agricultural proceedings, occupied most of his leisure hours within doors. On the whole, his character was, in its mass, perfect, in nothing bad, in a few points indifferent; and it may truly be said, that never did nature and fortune combine more completely to make a man great, and to place him in the same constellation with whatever worthies have merited from man an everlasting remembrance. For his was the singular destiny and merit of leading the armies of his country successfully through an arduous war, for the establishment of its independence; of conducting its councils through the birth of a government, new in its forms and principles, until it had settled down into a quiet and orderly train; and of scrupulously obeying the laws through the whole of his career, civil and military, of which the history of the world furnishes no other example.
THOUGHTS FROM WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING. On Books.—It is chiefly through books that we enjoy intercourse with superior minds and these invaluable means of communication are in the reach of all. In the best books great men talk to us, give us their most precious thoughts, and pour their souls into ours. God be thanked for books! They are the voices of the distant and the dead, and make us heirs of the spiritual life of past ages. Books are the true levelers. They give to all who will faithfully use them, the society, the spiritual presence of the best and greatest of our race. No matter how poor I am. No matter though the prosperous of my time will not enter my obscure dwelling. If the sacred writers will enter and take up their abode under my roof, if Milton will cross my threshhold to sing to me of paradise, and Shakspere to open to me the worlds of imagination and the workings of the human heart, and Franklin to enrich me with his practical wisdom, I shall not pine for want of intellectual companionship, and I may become a cultivated man, though excluded from what is called the best society in the place where I live. On Labor.—Manual labor is a great good, but only in its just proportions. In excess it does great harm. It is not a good when made the sole work of life. It must be joined with higher means of improvement or it degrades instead of exalting. Man has a various nature which requires a variety of occupation and discipline for its growth. Study, meditation, society, and relaxation should be mixed up with his physical toil. He has intellect, heart, imagination, taste, as well as bones and muscles; and he is grievously wronged when compelled to exclusive drudgery for bodily subsistence. On Politics.—To govern one’s self (not others) is true glory. To serve through love, not to rule, is Christian greatness. Office is not dignity. The lowest men, because most faithless in principle, most servile to opinion, are to be found in office. I am sorry to say it, but the truth should be spoken, that, at the present moment, political action in this country does little to lift up any who are concerned in it. It stands in opposition to a high morality. Politics, indeed, regarded as the study and pursuit of the true, enduring good of a community, as the application of great unchangeable principles to public affairs, is a noble sphere of thought and action, but politics, in its common sense, or considered as the invention of temporary shifts, as the playing of a subtle game, as the tactics of party for gaining power and the spoils of office, and for elevating one set of men above another is a paltry and debasing concern. On Self-Denial.—To deny ourselves is to deny, to withstand, to renounce whatever, within or without, interferes with our conviction of right, or with the will of God. It is to suffer, to make sacrifice, for duty or our principles. The question now offers itself: What constitutes the singular merit of this suffering? Mere suffering, we all know, is not virtue. Evil men often endure pain as well as the good and are evil still. This, and this alone, constitutes the worth and importance of the sacrifice, suffering, which enters into self-denial, that it springs from and manifests moral strength, power over ourselves, force of purpose, or the mind’s resolute determination of itself to duty. It is the proof and result of inward energy. Difficulty, hardship, suffering, sacrifices, are tests and measures of moral force and the great means of its enlargement. To withstand these is the same thing as to put forth power. Self-denial then is the will acting with power in the choice and prosecution of duty. Here we have the distinguishing glory of self-denial, and here we have the essence and distinction of a good and virtuous man. decorative line On Pleasure.—The first means of placing a people beyond the temptations to intemperance is to furnish them with the means of innocent pleasure. By innocent pleasures I mean such as excite moderately; such as produce a cheerful frame of mind, not boisterous mirth; such as refresh, instead of exhausting, the system; such as are chastened by self-respect, and are accompanied with the consciousness that life has a higher end than to be amused. In every community there must be pleasures, relaxations and means of agreeable excitement; and if innocent ones are not furnished, resort will be had to criminal. Men drink to excess very often to shake off depression, or to satisfy the restless thirst for agreeable excitement, and these motives are excluded in a cheerful community. A gloomy state of society in which there are few innocent recreations, may be expected to abound in drunkenness if opportunities are afforded. The savage drinks to excess because his hours of sobriety are dull and unvaried, because in losing consciousness of his condition and his existence he loses little which he wishes to retain. The laboring classes are most exposed to intemperance, because they have at present few other pleasurable excitements. A man, who, after toil, has resources of blameless recreation is less tempted than other men to seek self-oblivion. He has too many of the pleasures of the man to take up those of the brute. [End of Required Reading for November.] decorative line
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