The Inferiority of American Literature [pp. 707-710]

The Inferiority of Almerican Literature.
rises on the almost warmn and smouldering ashes of the council-fire. Enterprise, American enterprise-how does the
blood mantle the cheek as we record the cause-stimulated
by the certain acquisition of wealth-has stretched its wand
over our whole country, changing it, as by the power of magic, to a perfection which but few European countries have
attained by the long labor of centuries.
Only sixty years ago and we had just sprung into being.
We were poor and unknown —" none so poor to do us reverence." We were confounded, even by some pretenders
in intelligence, with the red man that roamed our woods, or
i the black man that cultivated our soil. We had scarce a
ship upon our seas, or steamboat upon our inland waters.
Our roads were had; our means of communication tedious,
wearisome and expensive; and our commerce had scarcely
been dignified with the name. But now our flag waves in
every breeze that fans the deep. Our rivers and lakes bear
upou their bosoms steam-vessels unrivalled for elegance
and magnitude; our means of communication have united
the extremes of our extensive, domain in such a way, that
ti me and space are almost annihilated; our commerce, internal and foreign, rivals that of the "Ocean Queen." We
have earned by our enterprize and national integrity a
name, the sound of which is honored by all people; and
which is the best passport which a traveller can possess to
secure respect wherever he may journey. Has the like
eve r been known before of any other people or in any age?
W\ hat other nation ever won such laurels in so short a time?
None. We stand alone! It is indeed true, that in the ex cellency of our political institutions, and in the department
of practical mechanics, and in scientific discoveries, we are
unrivalled; but in looking at our progress in literaturehigh and dignified literature-the genius of our country advances, rather with the feeble, tottering steps of superanuation, ithan with the elastic tread, or the ti t re, r b o l dness and
swiftness of a vigorous and ruddy yo uth.
Why then is our literature neglected? Have we e not genius owhich maight e Pa li e be aroused Palsied be the tonguewhi ch
would utter the foul aspersion! VVhy then is not th is foul
blo t wiped from the chronicle of pre sent things? Is it so
that American genius can only be aroused from its torpor
by the gleam of shining dust, or the all-earegizing clinking
of dollars and c ents?
We have not been unguarded in penning these lines.
Our ears have not been deaf to the adulations which have
so frequently been heaped upon some of our authors. But
alas! they are only sounded in our own midst. These adu lations have been uttered by our oun children. We are our
own idolaters! Our own land is indeed, but the earth, is not
full of our fame; and better, far better, had our harps been
hung upon the willows, until other hands and other voices
were readv to herald forth our praises!
To substantiate the assertion we need to make but a mo ment's comparison. We call not up the masterly produc tions of other days; we search not the tomes of departed
nations for specimens of the transcendency of their literary
glory. There is one mouldering parchment alone-the
"Iliad" of Ilomer-for whose glorious birth seven of the
proudest cities of the Peloponessus disputed —that tells us
that he struck the poetic lyre with a majesty and grandeur
which is yet unrivalled —like music upon the waters, mellowed by distance. His thrilling nulmb~ers, sweeping over
the waters of years, fall upon the ear with a cadence and
beauty Lehich knows no diminution, and which strikes competition dumb. But of modern nations. Britain!-what
name in poetry shall we place by the side of M~ilton? In1
dramatic writing bsy that of the Bald of Avon? In physical
philosophy by that of Newton? In the science of mind by
that of Locke? In theolog y by thaft of Taylor? It uay bue
said that this is our literature as w ell as Britain's. That we
claim an inheritance with her in the legacies of these men
An exalted literature is the no blest feature of national
greatness. In look in g over the records of history, it will
be found that of all the n atio ns which hav e risen, f l our ished
and fallen, those, and those only, sheid forth an unfading
lustre which have sto od preeminent in literature. Let us
go and search amid the mouldering relics of departed greathess, and of those kingdoms which have been superior in
learn ing a nd science; even in their crumbling ruins will be
discerned a glo ry which is undimmed-a gra nd.eur which
remains undiminished by all the wastings of time. Greece,
the rugged nurse of mighty men, the cradle of science, the
home of poetry and soing: Rome, the receptacle of learning,
the abode of orators, patriots and her oes, will ever be wrapt
in unfading splendor, and stand high in the annals of human
greatness. They were the residences of high mdinds-within
their precincts walk e d the spirits of Demosthene s and Cicero, of Plutarch and Sallust, of Hesiod and Virgil, of,
Orpheus and Terence-spirits, indeed of the departed, but
which still linger around their mortal homes, rendering the
very soil which covers their remains "hallowed ground."
But what of those nations whose literature has been neglected? Where are they? The namnes of some have reached
us; but of most of them it may be said they are gone, " Gone glimmering thro' the things that were,
A schoolboy's tale; the wonder of an hour."
Hence'we may infer that literature constitutes the noblest trait of national character; and, whilst we speak of
the literary inferiority of our own country, far, far be it from
our purpose to detract from her intrinsic grandeur and greatness. When we contemplate her present proud position as
it regards the rapid growth and symmetry of her political
institutions; when we mark the rapid strides which she is
making in civilization and refinement; the boundlessness of
her internal improvements; the unexampled attention paid
to a general diffusion of knowledge; and above all, when we
look upon her numberless institutions for benevolent enterprize, carried forward on a scale of moral grandeur, unprecedented in the annals of any country, we feel proud to be
called Amer-icans! and can say, in the words of the poet,
with all the warmth, and with all the enthusiasm, and with
all the thrilling, burning pathos of the most devoted patriots,
"This is my own, my native land."
Still we are compelled to say that, in a literary point of
view, we are as yet inferior to nearly all the European nations. WTVe have not, in this, kept pace with our other improvements. We have built the steamboat-we have dug our
canals-we have laid our rail roads-we have cut down the
forest-we have erected the stately edifice on the spot where
but yesterday stood the wigivam-the hall of legislation
1840.]
707
V.
By the rivers of Babylon,
The Lord in his ire,
'Shall smite the oppressor
In blood and in fire;
And bless'd the barbarian,
Who coi-,les upoii thee
The avenger of Israel,
Oh! haughty Chaldee!
Middletown, Va., 1840.
THE INFERIORITY OF
AMERICAN LITERATURE.
0
Oh! what great men hast thou not produced, England!
My country!-Colerid,,,c.
I