A Collection of Essays and Fugitiv Writings

No. VII

 PHILADELPHIA, 1787.

Since the declaration and establishment of a general peace, and since this country has had an opportunity to experience the effects of her independence, events have taken place, which were little expected by the friends of the revolution. It was expected, that on the ratification of peace, by the belligerent powers, America would enjoy perfect political tranquillity. The statesman in his closet, and the divine in his addresses to heaven, predicted and anticipated the happy period, when every man would rest, unmolested, under his own vine and his own fig tree. The merchant foresaw, in vision, the ports of all nations open to his ships, and the returns of a favorable commerce pouring wealth into his coffers. The honest laborer, in the shop and the field, was told that independence and peace would forever remove the fears of oppression, would lighten his burthen, and give him legal security for the uninterrupted possession of his rights. This flattering prospect inspired an irresistible enthusiasm in war. The contention for freedom was long and arduous; the prize was obtained; the delusion vanished, and America is surprized at the disappointment.

Instead of general tranquillity, one State has been involved in a civil war, and most of them are torn with factions, which weaken or destroy the energy of government. Instead of a free commerce with all the world, our trade is every where fettered with restraints and impositions, dictated by foreign interest; and instead of pouring wealth into our country, its present tendency is, to impoverish both the merchant and the public. Instead of legal security of rights under governments of our own choice, and under our own control, we find property at least unsafe, even in our best toned government. Our charters may be wrested from us without a fault, our contracts may be changed or set aside without our consent, by the breath of a popular Legislature. Instead of a dimunition of taxes, our public charges are multiplied; and to the weight of accumulating debts, we are perpetually making accessions by expensiv follies. Instead of a union of States and measures, essential to the welfare of a great nation, each State is jealous of its neighbor, and struggling for the superiority in wealth and importance, at the hazard even of our federal existence.

This is the dark side of our public affairs; but such are the facts. The public and private embarrassments, which are both seen and felt, are the topics of incessant declamation. The rhapsodies of orators, and the publications in gazettes, from the northern to the southern extremity of the United States, concur in deprecating the present state of this country, and communicate the intelligence of our distresses to the whole civilized world. Nor are newspapers the only heralds of our calamities. The contempt of government among one class of men, the silent murmurs of poverty in the peaceful cottage, and numerous bankrupts in every quarter, are irresistible evidence to a thinking mind, that something is wrong.

But declamation is idle, and murmurs fruitless. Time has been when the minds of people were alarmed at the approaches of despotism: Then harangues roused attention; then mobs raised the temple of freedom, and declared themselves ready to be sacrificed upon her altar. But violent passions in the public as well as in the human body, are always transitory. That enthusiasm which was called public spirit, heroic virtue, and love of country, has long ago subsided, and is absorbed in the general steady principle, private interest. That enthusiasm is not to be rekindled. The expostulations of our rulers and patriotic writers, have no more effect in reviving public spirit, than the attraction of a meteor in raising a tide.

Men, who embraced revolution principles, because independence might save a few shillings in taxes, or extend the imaginary sphere of freedom; who expected that peace would place them in a paradise of blessings, where they might riot without the fatigue of exertion; such men had narrow views of the consequence of detaching America from a transatlantic jurisdiction. They viewed but a small part of the great event: They are, they ought to be disappointed. Such men expect effects without causes, and are ready to despond, or commence enemies to a glorious event, because miracles are not wrought to verify their ill founded predictions.

In this view, this insect view of things, the revolution ought to be considered as extremely unfortunate; for to the present generation, it must certainly prove so.

But on the general scale of human happiness, every man of reflection must rejoice at the illustrious event. Even the propriety of the independence of these States, is so obviously dictated by their local situation, that a generous European ought to have consented to the measure on this single principle. But taking into consideration the vast field which is here opened for improvements in science, in government, in religion, and in morals; the philosopher will felicitate himself with the prospect of discoveries favorable to arts and happiness; the statesman will rejoice that there is a retreat from the vassalage of Europe; the divine will bless God that a place has been reserved for an uncorrupted church; and the philanthropist, who compares the yeomanry of America with the peasantry of Europe, will congratulate himself on an event which has removed millions of people from the ambition of princes, and from a participation of the vices, which mark the decline of nations.

The revolution of America, whatever may be the present effects, must, on the universal scale of policy, prove fortunate, not only for the parties, but for mankind in general. The period, however, when this country will realize the happy consequences of her separation, must be remote; probably beyond the lives of the present generation.

It is worth our curiosity to inquire into the causes of our present political evils; not the more obvious causes, which every man sees and laments, but those radical causes which lie hid from common observation; whose operations are imperceptible, but whose effects are visible, even to a vulgar eye.

A fundamental mistake of the Americans has been, that they considered the revolution as completed, when it was but just begun. Having raised the pillars of the building, they ceased to exert themselves, and seemed to forget that the whole superstructure was then to be erected. This country is independent in government; but totally dependent in manners, which are the basis of government. Men seem not to attend to the difference between Europe and America, in point of age and improvement; and are disposed to rush, with heedless emulation, into an imitation of manners, for which we are not prepared.

Every person tolerably well versed in history, knows that nations are often compared to individuals and to vegetables, in their progress from their origin to maturity and decay. The resemblance is striking and just. This progress is as certain in nations as in vegetables; it is as obvious, and its causes more easily understood; in proportion as the secret springs of action in government are more easily explained, than the mechanical principles of vegetation.

This progress therefore being assumed as a conceded fact, suggests a forcible argument against the introduction of European manners into America. The business of men in society is, first, to secure their persons and estates by arms and wholesome laws; then to procure the conveniences of life by arts and labor; but it is in the last stages only of national improvement, when luxury and amusements become public benefits, by dissipating accumulations of wealth, and furnishing employment and food for the poor. And luxury then is not beneficial, except when the wealth of a nation is wasted within itself. It is perhaps always true, that an old civilized nation cannot, with propriety, be the model for an infant nation, either in morals, in manners or fashions, in literature or in government.

The present ambition of Americans is, to introduce as fast as possible, the fashionable amusements of the European courts. Considering the former dependence of America on England, her descent, her connexion and present intercourse, this ambition cannot surprise us. But it must check this ambition to reflect on the consequences. It will not be denied, that there are vices predominant in the most polite cities in Europe, which are not only unknown, but are seldom mentioned in America; and vices that are infamous beyond conception. I presume it will not be denied that there must be an amazing depravation of mind in a nation, where a farce is a publication of more consequence than Milton's Poem; and where an opera dancer, or an Italian singer, receives a salary equal to that of an Ambassador. The facts being known and acknowleged, I presume the consequence will not be denied. Not that this charge is good against every individual; even in the worst times, there will be found many exceptions to the general character of a nation.

If these vices and the depravation of mind do actually exist, it is a proof of a gradual corruption; for there was a time when they did not exist. There was a time when decency was a virtue, even at Venice. The progress is also slow, unless hastened by some external circumstances. It was more than two thousand years from the building of Rome to the pontificate of Alexander the VIth whose naked revelings filled the measure of public vice, and strike the human mind with horror.

A constant increase of wealth is ever followed by a multiplication of vices: This seems to be the destiny of human affairs; wisdom, therefore, directs us to retard, if possible, and not to accelerate the progress of corruption. But an introduction of the fashionable diversions of Europe into America, is an acceleration of the growth of vices which are yet in their infancy, and an introduction of new ones too infamous to be mentioned. A dancing school among the Tuscaroras, is not a greater absurdity than a masquerade in America. A theater, under the best regulations, is not essential to our public and private happiness. It may afford entertainment to individuals; but it is at the expense of private taste and public morals. The great misfortune of all exhibitions of this kind is this; that they reduce all taste to a level. Not only the vices of all classes of people are brought into view, but of all ages and nations. The intrigues of a nobleman, and the scurrility of shoe blacks, are presented to the view of both sexes, of all ages; the vices of the age of Elizabeth and of Charles IId are recorded by the masterly pens of a Shakespeare and a Congreve, and by repeated representation, they are "hung on high," as the poet expresses it, "to poison half mankind." The fact is, that all characters must be presented upon a theater, because all characters are spectators; and a nobleman and a sailor, a dutchess and a washer woman, that attend constantly on the exhibitions of vice, become equally depraved; their tastes will be nearly alike as to vice; the one is as prepared for a crime as the other. It is for this reason, that many of the amusements of nations more depraved than ourselves, are highly pernicious in this country. They carry us forward by hasty strides, to the last stages of corruption; a period that every benevolent man will deprecate and endeavor to retard. This circumstance, the difference in the stages of our political existence, should make us shun the vices which may be politic and even necessary in older states; and endeavor to preserve our manners by being our own standards. By attaching ourselves to foreign manners, we counteract the good effects of the revolution, or rather render them incomplete. A revolution in the form of government, is but a revolution in name; unless attended with a change of principles and manners, which are the springs of government.

This leads me to treat more particularly of the influence of fashions on the interests of these States; an article in which the ladies are deeply interested.

Fashion in itself is a matter of indifference, as affecting neither morals nor politeness. It is of no consequence whether a lady is clad with a gown or a frock; or whether a gentleman appears in public with a cap or a wig. But there may be times and situations in which the most trifling things become important. The practice of imitating foreign modes of dress, cannot cost America less than 100,000l. a year. I speak not of the necessary articles of dress; but merely of changes of fashions.

To understand this fact, it is necessary to advert to the different circumstances of this country, and of the European kingdoms, which we take as our models.

Two circumstances distinguish most of the commercial countries of Europe from America; a feudal division of real property, and manufactures. Where vast estates are hereditary and unalienable, a great part of the people are dependent on the rich, and if the rich do not employ them, they must starve. Thus in England and France, a great landholder possesses a hundred times the property that is necessary for the subsistence of a family; and each landlord has perhaps a hundred families dependent on him for subsistence. On this statement, if the landlord should live penuriously, and supply his own family only with necessaries, all his dependents must starve. In order to subsist the ninety nine families, he must create wants, which their employment must supply; for the natural wants of a few rich people will not furnish employment for great multitudes of poor. Hence the good policy, the necessity of luxury in most European kingdoms. Hence originate all the changes and varieties of fashion. A gentleman or lady in London must not appear in public twice in the same suit. This is a regulation of custom, but it is highly political; for were the nobility and rich gentry to wear out all their clothes, one half the people must be beggars. The fashions of England and France are not merely matter of fancy: Fancy may dictate new and odd figures in dress; but the general design of frequent and continual changes of fashion, is wise systematic policy, at the courts of London and Paris.

But let us see with how little discretion and policy we adopt foreign luxuries. America is a young country, with small inequalities of property, and without manufactures. Few people are here dependent on the rich, for every man has an opportunity of becoming rich himself. Consequently few people are supported by the luxuries of the wealthy; and even these few are mostly foreigners.

But we have no body of manufacturers to support by dissipation. All our superfluities are imported, and the consumption of them in this country enriches the merchants and supports the poor of Europe. We are generous indeed! generous to a fault. This is the pernicious, the fatal effect of our dependence on foreign nations for our manners. We labor day and night, we sacrifice our peace and reputation, we defraud our public creditors, involve ourselves in debts, impoverish our country: Nay, many are willing to become bankrupts and take lodgings in a prison, for the sake of being as foolish as those nations which subsist their poor and grow rich and respectable by their follies.

No objection can be made to rich and elegant dresses among people of affluent circumstances. But perhaps we may safely calculate that one third of the expenses incurred by dress in this country, add nothing either to convenience or elegance.

A new dress is invented in London or Paris, not for the sake of superior elegance, because it frequently happens that a new dress is less rich and elegant than an old one; but for the sake of giving food to manufacturers. That new fashion is sent across the Atlantic; let it be ever so troublesome and uncouth, we admire its novelty; we adopt it because it is fashionable; and merely for a change, that may be made in half an hour by a tailor or a milliner, 20, 30, or 50,000 pounds are drawn from the capital stocks of property in America, to enrich nations which command our commerce and smile at our folly.

But it is not only the wealth of this country that is sacrificed by our servile imitation of other nations; our complaisance often requires us to dispense with good taste.

It will probably be admitted that amidst the infinite variety of dresses which are fashionable, during a course of ten or fifteen years, some of them must be more convenient and elegant than others. True taste in dress consists in setting off the person to the best advantage. That dress which unites the articles of convenience, simplicity and neatness, in the greatest perfection, must be considered as the most elegant. But true taste goes farther; it has reference to age, to shape, to complexion, and to the season of the year. The same dress which adorns a miss of fifteen, will be frightful on a venerable lady of seventy. The same dress will embellish one lady and disfigure another. But the passive disposition of Americans in receiving every mode that is offered them, sometimes reduces all ages, shapes and complexions to a level.

I will not undertake to say that people ought not, in the article of dress, to sacrifice taste to national interest. A sacrifice of that kind, in a manufacturing country, may be laudable; it will at least be pardonable. But in a reverse of situation, in America, where a waste of property and a group of political evils accompany a bad taste, the sacrifice admits of no apology.

It is not unfrequent to hear ladies complain severely of the inconvenience of fashion. Their good sense disapproves and their taste revolts at incumbrances. And yet where is the lady who would not sooner submit to any fatigue, rather than be ridiculous. I speak of ladies particularly; in point of expense, the gentlemens' dresses are exceptionable as well as the ladies; in point of convenience, the ladies are the greatest sufferers by fashion, as their dress admits of the greatest variety of incumbrances.

Perhaps the trouble of conforming entirely to the fashions of Europe is as great a tax upon the ladies, as the expense is to their husbands and parents.

One society of people, the Friends, are happily released from the tyranny and inconveniencies of fashion. However disagreeable the restraints of their religion may appear in other respects, it must be acknowledged that, in point of dress, the rules of their society conform to purity of taste.

Perhaps we may safely estimate, that the ladies of that society dress with two thirds of the expense which other ladies incur, even when the articles of their dress are equally rich and expensiv; the difference is saved by neglecting superfluous finery. And are not their taste in dress, their simplicity and neatness, universally admired? Does it not set off their persons to the best advantage? Do not gentlemen almost universally give the preference to the taste of Quaker ladies? Nay, I would ask, whether other ladies themselves, under a strong bias in favor of a tawdry dress, are not frequently lavishing encomiums on the superior elegance and convenience of the Friends' dresses? And how often do they sigh beneath the trouble of their own dress, and wish that particular articles would go out of fashion.

If there is any thing on earth, which can make a rational mind disgusted with society, it is that cruel necessity, which obliges a person to sacrifice both his interest and his taste, or run the hazard of being laughed at for his singularity.

In some Asiatic countries, people never change their modes of dress. This uniformity, which continues for ages, proceeds from the same principles as the monthly changes in England and France; both proceed from necessity and policy. Both arise from good causes which operate in the several governments; that is, the manners of each government are subservient to its particular interest. The reverse is true of this country. Our manners are wholly subservient to the interest of foreign nations. Where do we find, in dress or equipage, the least reference to the circumstances of this country! Is it not the sole ambition of the Americans to be just like other nations, without the means of supporting the resemblance? We ought not to harbor any spleen or prejudice against foreign kingdoms. This would be illiberal. They are wise, they are respectable. We should despise the man that piques himself on his own country, and treats all others with indiscriminate contempt. I wish to see much less jealousy and ill nature subsisting between the Americans and English. But in avoiding party spirit and resentment on the one hand, we should be very careful of servility on the other. There is a manly pride in true independence, which is equally remote from insolence and meanness; a pride that is characteristic of great minds. Have Americans discovered this pride since the declaration of peace? We boast of independence, and with propriety. But will not the same men, who glory in this great event, even in the midst of a gasconade, turn to a foreigner and ask him, "what is the latest fashion in Europe!" He has worn an elegant suit of clothes for six weeks; he might wear it a few weeks longer, but it has not so many buttons as the last suit of my lord –: He throws it aside, and gets one that has. The suit costs him a sum of money; but it keeps him in the fashion, and feeds the poor of Great Britain or France. It is a singular phenomenon, and to posterity it will appear incredible, that a nation of heroes, who have conquered armies, and raised an empire, should not have the spirit to say—we will wear our clothes as we please.