It's Tuesday, Dec. 19, a notable date in history for those of us who write for a living, whether one covers politics, dabbles in magical realism, or is merely trying to make ends meet.
As I've noted before in this space, it was Dec. 19, 1732, when an entrepreneurial young man in Philadelphia published the first edition of what would become a wildly successful enterprise. It was called "Poor Richard's Almanack," after a title that was borrowed in two ways: First, it copied another almanac, "Poor Robin's." Second, it appropriated the name of a man, Richard Saunders, who actually existed.
"Poor Richard's Almanack" was penned, of course, by Benjamin Franklin, who would write and publish many memorable essays in his long and distinguished career. His most important literary contribution was his editing of the Declaration of Independence.
Two other literary blockbusters made their debut on Nineteenths of December Past (that's a partial hint), and I'll return to them in a moment.
On Dec. 19, 1776, the revolution that Ben Franklin helped get started was bogged down in winter camp at Valley Forge. As George Washington effected a strategic retreat across the Delaware River, the Philadelphia Journal published an essay by fiery patriot Thomas Paine called "The American Crisis."
"These are the times that try men's souls," it began. "The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis shrink from the service of his country; but he that stands it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman."
"Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered," Paine continued. "Yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph."
Gen. Washington was so taken with Paine's prose that he had it read aloud to his men. His army had been beset by desertions, and many of the contracts that the men had signed were set to expire on Dec. 31. Instead, Washington's re-energized force crossed the Delaware on Christmas night, surprising the Hessians at Trenton, and on Jan. 2, the Continental Army bested Lord Cornwallis at Princeton. The American Revolution continued.
Sixty-seven years later, on Dec. 19, 1843, another writer opened a revolutionary tale of his own with a simple, yet arresting sentence: "Marley was dead to begin with."
Charles Dickens, who had an uneasy relationship with organized religion, had been inspired during a trip to the United States by the works-based faith of America's Unitarians. Although "A Christmas Carol" is hardly a secular story, Ebenezer Scrooge's conversion is not brought about by a confrontation with Christ, but with himself – a version of self that he realized was loathsome, thanks to the magic of the three spirits who visited him.
To the first of them, the ghost of his dead partner Jacob Marley, Scrooge initially protested, "But you were always a good man of business, Jacob."
In reply, the specter spoke words as appropriate to our age as they were in the time of Dickens:
"Business! Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence, were, all, my business. The dealings of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business!"
Carl M. Cannon is the Washington bureau chief for RealClearPolitics. Reach him on Twitter @CarlCannon
