individual behavior in the various colonies that began to dot the
seaboard, certain qualities demanded by the new surroundings are
felt in colonial life and in colonial writings. One of these is
the instinct for order, or at least that degree of order
essential to the existence of a camp. It was not in vain that
John Smith sought to correct the early laxness at Jamestown by
the stern edict: "He that will not work, neither shall he eat."
Dutch and Quaker colonies taught the same inexorable maxim of
thrift. Soon there was work enough for all, at good wages, but
the lesson had been taught. It gave Franklin's "Poor Richard"
mottoes their flavor of homely, experienced truth.

Order in daily life led straight to political order, just as the
equality and resourcefulness of the frontier, stimulated by
isolation from Europe, led to political independence. The pioneer
learned to make things for himself instead of sending to London
for them, and by and by he grew as impatient of waiting for a
political edict from London as he would become in waiting for a
London plough. "This year," wrote one colonist, "ye will go to
complain to the Parliament, and the next year they will send to
see how it is, and the third year the government is changed." The
time was coming when no more complaints would be sent.

One of the most startling instances of this colonial instinct for
self-government is the case of Thomas Hooker. Trained in Emmanuel
College of the old Cambridge, he arrived in the new Cambridge in
1633. He grew restless under its theocratic government, being, it
was said, "a person who when he was doing his Master's work,
would put a king into his pocket." So he led the famous migration
of 1636 from Massachusetts to Hartford, and there helped to