This chapter delivers the rich history of the American comic essay. From its inception in the seventeenth century, sociopolitical concerns have dominated the genre. Borrowing from British sources and employing features common to humorous writing, the American comic essay customizes these for an American public using national imagery, local allusions, and distinctly American language. Earlier humorists voiced independent religious and political ideologies even before the formation of the new nation. Later, fictional personae expressed themselves in hyperbolic style and used vernacular and vulgar language, laden with irony and sarcasm, to capture the discontinuities of the industrializing nation. Articulating ethical visions of the new democracy, literary comedians like Artemus Ward expanded the naïve, deadpan voice brought to international prominence by Mark Twain. Later essayists maintained the rhetoric, persona, exaggeration, and irony that caricature American pragmatism, and further expanded the range of themes to include personal psychology, sexuality, and other once taboo topics. The chapter’s final pages feature the diverse contemporary landscape of American humor writing.

The chapter shows the outsize influence of the British periodical essay tradition, represented in publications like Addison and Steele’s Spectator (1711– 12), on eighteenth-century American periodical essays. The British series presented themselves as the musings of fictional personae who lived in cities. The persona (almost always male) wandered about town, reflecting on what he observed and overheard in coffeehouses, streets, theaters, and other places of business or leisure. He was often diverted and sometimes frustrated by his fellow citizens; he also strived to enlighten with casual criticism of the arts or musings on the relevance of religion and history to everyday life. A pervasive, low-level irony was common in these writings. American essayists such as Benjamin Franklin, Washington Irving, and Judith Sargent Murray borrowed from the British model, customizing it for an American readership. The most original early American essay series sketch in their personae a knowing independence of mind amid a distracted and unreflective urban crowd, a rhetorical standpoint that paradoxically would come to define a newly nationalistic body of literature in the nineteenth century.

This chapter focuses on Cotton Mather’s Bonifacius: An Essay upon the Good (1710), in which Mather makes a series of proposals for how Christians might advance the gospel cause and exercise social benevolence. For this purpose, Mather creatively amalgamated different variants of the genre. First published anonymously in 1710 but quickly associated with Mather’s name, Bonifacius has often been considered an aesthetically and intellectually inferior predecessor of the American essay tradition, rather than its first full instantiation. Even so, the work enjoyed great popularity in the United States and Britain throughout the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. In his Autobiography, Benjamin Franklin praised Bonifacius and acknowledged its importance in his early formation. This chapter investigates that connection and explores the relation between the sermon and the essay, dwelling on significant passages from Bonifacius and tracking its influence on a number of later philosophical and spiritual traditions.

This chapter examines the meanings of moderation in the American political tradition, beginning with George Washington’s Farewell Address, continuing with Benjamin Franklin’s Autobiography, and ending with Abraham Lincoln’s speeches.

From the founding on, a dominant stream of American political thought and statesmanship has understood the polity in providentialist terms. Revolutionary leaders espoused belief in a particularly providential God, which is what we would expect if they also held to a classical Christian conception of natural law rather than the pantheistic naturalism alleged by modern scholars.We take our investigative cues from the providentialist proclamation by the Continental Congress that bookended the Revolutionary War, and we then engage in historical case studies of key players and events in American counterintelligence and French diplomacy. These case studies show that prominent actors in the war affirmed core tenets of classical theism: the existence of a creator God who providentially governs the cosmos and the destiny of men.According to these key participants engaged in espionage and diplomacy, the providential creator was also a moralistic God of justice who favored the side of liberty such that the revolutionary actors saw themselves carrying out the divine will on the world historic stage in obedience to the dictates of right reason.

Chapter 5 examines the fate of transformative demographic governance in the eighteenth century, beginning with the proliferation of demographic numbers and political-arithmetical arguments in a range of print genres: sermons and sacred histories, literary essays and satires, newspapers and pamphlets. These encouraged a new demographic subjectivity in their audiences – a sense of participation in demographic processes – that raised questions of agency and its limits. Some concerned the constraints of environment, conceived of in discussions of medicine and public health as a partially manipulable “situation”; others concerned the power or responsibility of the public to foster the improvement of populations through projects such as Societies for the Reformation of Manners or Coram’s Foundling Hospital. In colonial contexts, debate raged over the relationship between climate, health and race, and – as Benjamin Franklin’s work shows – over both the relative fecundity of America and Europe and the ideal racial composition of the colonies and the world. By the later eighteenth century, demographic governance had become a point of contention between colony and metropole.

During and immediately after the American Revolution, US writers described a salubrious national climate that would ensure the prosperity of the nation. Maintaining a good climate involved managing air quality through various forms of so-called improvement. In the 1790s, a series of yellow fever epidemics upended this fantasy and suggested that the US atmosphere might be either fundamentally toxic or incredibly vulnerable to foreign contagion. During this period, maintaining healthy air came to be understood as a national security issue. This discourse offers one point of origin for the contemporary militarization of climate to the benefit of some and at the expense of others. The heightened vulnerability of poor and nonwhite communities to airborne toxins can also be traced to the 1790s, when the government prioritized the health of white bodies at the expense of black people. This chapter traces this arc through Mercy Otis Warren’s anti-British plays, writing by and about Benjamin Franklin, and the novels of Charles Brockden Brown. The chapter closes by connecting this literary history to contemporary scholarship about air pollution.

Chapter 1 examines the first, and arguably most important, act of rogue diplomacy in American history: the refusal of Benjamin Franklin, John Adams, and John Jay to heed the Continental Congress's instructions that they make no peace with Britain without first obtaining French consent. The government of Louis XVI had kept the American Revolution afloat through nearly a decade of war, and the French foreign minister - Charles Gravier, Comte de Vergennes - expected his American allies to follow Paris's lead during peace negotiations, but Adams, Jay, and particularly Franklin executed a briliant end-run around Versailles and concluded a separate treaty with London that gave the infant United States far more generous borders (along with other concessions) than Vergennes or Louis ever would have countenanced. By defying the Congress, and by profiting so immensely thereby, Franklin, Jay, and Adams established a standard of diplomatic insubordination that endures to the present day.