The Individualist, the hypocrite, and the Sublime

I really enjoyed reading Johnson’s The Early American Republic, and I wish I could find its British equivalent. Larisa and I both felt the argument about the 2nd American Bank poignant because we had just visited the bank in Philadelphia. In fact, reading the book while in Philadelphia was especially meaningful, since so much happening during the early Republic happened in that city. I’ve already noted several texts I want to explore in his “Suggested Readings,” and his summary of Tocqueville was very helpful for those who have not yet had a chance to read his work. Tocqueville’s explanation of Individualism really caused me to think about the term in context with Henry Tufts. Individualism, according to Tocqueville’s French meaning of the word (and, Johnson notes Tocqueville helped introduced the term into the American language), “meant pure selfishness: an individualist was a sociopath who took what he wanted and cared nothing for other people” (162).


I feel that Tocqueville’s “Individualism” perfectly describes Henry Tufts’ personality: A thief, a jail breaker, a bigamist, a rogue, a quack doctor, a wizard, a liar, a confidence man, a child predator, in short: an individualist. He never appeared to care for anyone unless he/she could, in some way, benefit him. For the life of me, I cannot see what is so appealing about this man that women will jump right into bed with him (assuming what he says is true, and I am assuming it is NOT). He feels this connection with Abigail because she was there when “I was deserted by every other person” (328). That’s rich. Then later, when he leaves Lydia for a young girl, he gets mad because she is like him, loose with her affections. He goes so far as to preach to her in the end, “I began a grating lecture on the score of her perfidy, more especially to a man, who had relinquished house and home for her sake” (352). Let's add hypocrite to that list.

I did think this 3rd section was better than the middle. I could see plot development, story progression, and I could somewhat envision the characters in this section. The section where he was offered $70 for his story really intrigued me and spoke to the value a man could receive from a life of crime—especially if it is an exciting life of crime. – It is all about profit—not so much about moral lessons. And I was fascinated by the flashmen and the flash speak—very interesting (I did recognize clout for hanky).

In the end, I felt that S. Burroughs did a better job of eliciting sympathy from the reader, most notably in the prison basement scene. Tufts had this opportunity, perhaps even more so, considering the cold weather and his lack of shoes (losing his toenails--ugh!). And he did elicit some sympathy, but I felt Burroughs really used the language better. Tufts, on the other hand, excelled at sensationalism—to the max. And I even saw a short section of the Sublime:

Here, being a little out of ken, I stood and contemplated the surrounding scenery. The majesty and solemnity of the landscape inspired me with a kind of awe, whilst various distant objects assumed a disconsolate air, in perfect unison with the gravity of my feelings. I viewed the encircling waters, fatal bar, alas! to my happiness; surveyed the face of the country, beheld the harbor of Boston, and saw the lands lying at rest, as it seemed, beyond the ocean. The prospect before me excited ideas, by no means consolatory; yet would have been undoubtedly delightful, I imagine, to an uninterested spectator. (313)

 The sublime has the power to heighten our senses and fill us with a sense of awe. Tufts, who is in prison at this time, had ceased to resisting authority, ceased attempting to escape. He became docile to authority. But upon espying the sublimity of the harbor and the schools of eels, his spirit invigorated, and he attempts another escape. While this escape is unsuccessful, he does succeed in the next attempt. I thought this interesting.