January 25, 1776

This letter was supposedly written by “an old fellow” to “a young OFFICER upon his entering into the CONTINENTAL service.” The writer drew on his “age and experience” to offer a number of pieces of advice to the younger man. He attested to the man’s “personal courage,” humility, and “humane and tender” soul, which he expected would serve him well. But he also worried that this new officer’s “good-nature” would blind him to certain aspects “in this new scene of life.”

This letter describes how an officer must have “common sense” as well as military and leadership skills. “The love of the soldiers is the happiness of an officer,” according to the writer. It was an officer’s responsibility to keep the men “clean and decent,” as well as “deligent” and obedient. The letter includes cautions against drinking—“How can a drunkard guide men truly, when his own legs mutiny and refuse his commands?”—or giving money to a soldier if there are other ways to reward or encourage them. But the message at the beginning of the letter was the most critical and timely. The “life and liberty of America” depended upon the Continental Army. The writer encouraged the young officer: “consider the dignity of your station; consider the mighty trust reposed in you; consider yourself, and it is scarce possible you will err in your conduct.”

The Pennsylvania Evening Post
Printed by Benjamin Towne

Philadelphia, January 25, 1776.

A LETTER to a young OFFICER upon his entering into the CONTINENTAL service.

My very dear friend,

I TAKE this opportunity of fulfilling my promise, by laying before you what my age and experience judge necessary for your well doing.

You are a man of property, and now inlisted to fight the cause of freedom;—you are a soldier; you are one of those on whom, under God, the life and liberty of America depends; consider the dignity of your station; consider the mighty trust reposed in you; consider yourself, and it is scarce possible you will err in your conduct.

I am positive as to your personal courage, for your soul is humane and tender, and your tongue is not a bragart; but as your behaviour in this new scene of life is what I am not so certain of, your good-nature will excuse a little advice, and attribute my trite maxims more to the warmth of my friendship than to any occasion you may have for them.

To be an officer there is no necessity of being inspired with superabundant talents. Common sense, and the deportment of a gentleman are sufficient; the knowledge of your duty, and the military art, will come with time and experience, but a close application to the study is necessary.

The love of the soldiers is the happiness of an officer, and to gain that love, the method is short and easy. Pay and punish where due, but never strike. Be free with your men, but suffer them not to be free with you; an haughty overbearing temper may indeed inspire them with fear, but never with affection. Treat them as men, and they will respect you as their officer; but at the same time, be careful that the non-commissioned officers act in the same manner, and support their proper authority, on which all duty and submission depends.

Endeavour as much as possible to keep your men clean and decent; it gives spirits, and prevents drunkenness and debauchery. Drop in at their meals, taste their victuals, encourage them to keep good messes, and reprove where you find them remiss.

Be assiduous to learn the exercise of a soldier, and keep your men deligent at it, yet so as not to fatigue them unnecessarily. See that they punctually obey your commands, but be not too rigorous in trivial matters. Believe me, the men soon find out the genius of their officers, and will never impose or play tricks, when they know they cannot do it with impunity.

Make it a constant rule to obey, with alacrity and chearfulness, every order of your superiors; such a conduct will add to your reputation, and confirm your character.

Slander and scandal sometimes insinuate themselves into camps, and too frequently attack the most deserving. Let me beg of you to turn a deaf ear to evil report, and not be speedily prejudiced against any man, much less your commanders.

An officer need not have all the wisdom of a privy counsellor; he ought, at least, to have that part that enjoins secresy. The Spanish proverb is good, “in a close mouth no flies enter. Execute your orders in silence, and let not the most distant hint of the conduct of the army escape from your lips or your pen. Should you know nothing particular, your words must be mere conjecture, and in all probability quite wrong. Should a material circumstance come to your knoowledge, what infamy must follow your disclosing it!

Company and cheerfulness are absolutely necessary, but to drink to excess is inexcusable. The lives of thousands depend on the sobriety of officers. How can a drunkard guide men truly, when his own legs mutiny and refuse his commands?

Be charitable, be generous, according to your power; but seldom give money to a soldier. When you think proper to reward or encourage, there are other ways infinitely more useful to them.

Rise early and examine your command; keep them reasonably employed, and under the strictest discipline; but let your own example keep pace with your precepts.

Have all your affairs in so nice and exact an order as to be always ready to march at a moment’s warning. All men ought to accustom themselves to regularity, but none requires it more than a soldier.

Your natural good temper will prevent your giving offence to any one, and perhaps incline you to bear patiently those offered to you; but have a care, and, let what will be the consequence, permit no man to taunt or insult. Should the least particle of contempt fall on you, quit a service where you must do more harm than good.

With regard to your present enemies, hold them not too cheap. Speak of them as men of an unhappy education, led away by false maxims, and prejudiced to erroneous principles; they are or ought to be our brethren. Let your humanity extend to them as far as safety and prudence will permit. If absolute and fatal necessity compels you to strike, let the sword fall from no other motive but the general good. Let it be effectual but instant. In that unhappy case drive every womanish weakness from your heart, and consider that too much lenity and tenderness may be cruelty to your country. The action, or necessary pursuit over, let clemency and compassion fill your breast. Should you conquer, be all mildness and charity. Comfort the prisoner, assist the wretched and wounded. Speak peace to despairing souls, and, if possible, shew them the joys of freedom and liberty. But I have done, and discharged the office annexed to love and friendship. If my hints are useless to you, perhaps you may know those to whom they may be of service. I send you my old faithful companion Monsieur de Feuquiere, read him carefully, for he is able to instruct. I likewise send you Polybius, with the annotations of Monsieur de Follard. You find I am an old fellow by my long-winded tale, but I shall appear more so when you consider I end where I ought to have begun, by recommending to you the service of God, and obedience to his ordinances. A righteous and a godly life is the best preparative for death. Though all ought, yet none should be more ready to obey that call than a soldier. 

His life is every instant, in a peculiar manner, at stake. Think on this frequently, and your duty to God and man will certainly follow; and man and the Almighty will reward you with peace, content and happiness. Into his hands I resign you, and most fervently pray him to crown your cause with victory, and to continue his mercy to this land to latest posterity.