CONCLUSION.
My readers, I hope, will pardon a new word I introduce in this chapter. It is Unitedstatians. When this Union will spread herself, until the continent of this new world will be under a single popular government, then the word americans, or columbians, will be the general, and particular name. But, as there are indians, canadians, and mexicans also, it seems to me, that the citizens of this Union are wanting a particular name.
During the foregoing chapters, I wrote against fashionable literature; unreligious religion; bad newspapers; tourists, whose blind love for their country rendered them pert, or saucy towards other nations; american theatres; political parties; and selfish merchants of books. Odd, or bad men are found in every part of the world; and bad creatures, though they have more, or less influence in every part of this too much ruled earth, the plurality has now sufficient understanding to discriminate good from bad, when the frightful hobgoblin of the so called Religion does not put its long tail. Demagogues, scribblers, bad politicians, or bad merchants cannot injure my character, as a member of society in America: but unreligious religionists, can do a great mischief. And why so? Because in America the hypocrite is not easily known. The hypocrite who must, of course, be offended of what I have said against unreligious religion, has a great power on this new soil of America, against all those who, despising as I do any kind of cant, take off the mask from the long face. To such hypocrites, I have only to say now, that their Belief does not give them any right to brand my Belief. If they think their Belief better than my Belief, they have only to keep their good conscience for themselves, without branding my Belief with their inquisitorial hot iron, and frightful words. He who thinks himself a religious man, and thinks it man’s duty to be religious as he is, should keep his beautiful face with modesty, and never say that those, who have not his very face, are ugly; and as the inquisition of the mind, or that of the body have never done any good to the true religion, it is now time to learn, that in condemning those, who cannot think as he does, he shows to be no better than an inquisitor. Fanatics have wronged too much the morals of Jesus. The hypocrite may, hereafter, speak behind my back against me, with impunity, as far as his infernal voice does not reach my ears.
There are unfortunately individuals, who think that virtue, integrity, and all the good qualities of mind, and heart are not indispensable requisites to a man of belles letters. They are very much mistaken. It is the purity of the heart alone, which gives immortality to the labor of a genius. As I think it to be an indispensable requisite, I feel it my duty now, to demonstrate it in this conclusion, and last chapter. It is the sine qua non, on which a National Literature should be grounded.
It is a fact: Pope’s, or Addison’s heart had not been free from envy, and other petty moral faults which, but obscured their fine qualities of character, and sentiment. As many philosophers have not yet been entirely free of selfish feelings, so pernicious to the very philosophy they professed, it seems to me, that a perfect civilization as Plato, Rousseau, Bentham, or Fourier are aiming at, must needs be farther off, than philanthropy expects. But, that such a fortunate philosophical millennium will come, I do so honestly believe it, that, had it been my choice to come into this world, I would have postponed it, until that happy future time.
That many elevated sentiments of morality are originated from the impure source of selfishness, we must shamefully admit it. Still, had not Pope, or Addison had, a good share of noble sentiments, they could never have written so forcibly of morals, without having felt it in their own breast. Such authors are like the physicians, who though acquainted with the means of alleviating the endemial sickness of their country, fell themselves the victims of human frailty. Besides, we learn how to become just, and moral from the reflections of our own faults, as well as of others: and he, who acknowledges his own imperfections, is, to my mind, a good man still. Happy those, who receive from nature, or education, a mild temperament, free of any selfish consideration.
Men, whose thoughts cannot go beyond the age in which they live, sustain the impossibility of human perfection; and think, that selfishness is our human duty. Hence this immoral precept: “Charity begins at home.” As I am obliged to exert my physical strength among cannibals; so obliged am I also, to be selfish among the selfish, and cunning among the cunning, as far as the propriety, and the honor of the age, in which I live, will permit. But, when we speak of a future civilization, we must bring our mind to a civilized, and educated population: a people, who can easily distinguish the cunning, roguish, or selfish from the open, sincere, or generous. And when the cunning, roguish, or selfish will find, that he can not get the esteem of his contemporaries, he will, of necessity, become open, sincere, or generous. We are the children of our education, and of the century in which we live. The virtuous, alone, can impart virtue: and refinement will force men to be refined.
Nothing is more disgusting than those individuals, whose sight being not longer than a span, pretend to judge of distances which they cannot see: and because they have never been better, thinking mankind a race incapable of moral perfection, or improvement, they call Plato, Rousseau, Bentham, and Fourier the dreamers of the ages, in which they lived, and of those to come, while they do not perceive that, had men never attempted to ameliorate human frailties, we would be still nothing better, than our ancient fathers—the cannibals. Because we have not arrived at perfection, shall we stop on our half civilization?—This is my firm belief: Unless we practice that, which we profess in theory, we will never be able to describe in writing, nor speaking, the honest delineaments of morals, or integrity. The man, who does not feel nobility under his skin, cannot speak, or write with propriety of the attributes of a Divinity. It is an axiom: that which is not felt, can not be expressed.
Si vis me flere dolendum est
Primum ipsi tibi; tunc tua me infortunia lædent,
Telephe, vel Peleu: male si mandata loqueris,
Aut dormitabo, aut ridebo.
Could Horace rise from the dead, he would not wonder a little in finding out, some men still doubting the above uncontrovertible quotation. Our boasting nineteenth century, may be properly called the raging time of scribblers, in which confusion of papers, true men of letters are neglected. When demagogues become the fashionable leading party of a community, the worst scribblers, whose money renders editors good enough to praise what they did not read, or could not understand, are generally read by a plurality of apes, who buy the new works, in order to be able, at the first evening party, to echo in the ears of a belle, the praising criticism of their newspapers. And these individuals sustain before their admirers, that a man may be either philosopher, orator, or poet, and at the same time, be quite a stranger to virtue! And while we call ourselves a civilized people, such empty minds, nursed with empty words, endeavor to confound literary men with demagogues, wisdom with ignorance, piety with hypocrisy, virtue with vice; and place into the asylums of lunatics every one, who would dare to contradict them. Such scribblers who live by writing the interesting murders of the day, and all the awful—excuse the epithet! the interesting calamities, I wanted to say, of this unpitying globe, are the only individuals who can make money out of their pen.
To deprive of virtue an orator, poet, or philosopher, it would be as to entitle a man painter, when he has no perception of colors. Honos alit artes. A boy who drew a pig, while he intended to make a horse, might, likewise, be considered a painter by a still poorer connoisseur, than the boy himself. An artist cannot reach perfection, or eminence, without that which is requisite. Were two men of equal understanding, and ability; but one virtuous, and the other not, the second might appear eloquent, were he not compared with the former; but he cannot be but a pigmy before the noble virtue. The inspiration of heaven cannot emanate but from heaven. A clown cannot be a genius; and a genius, with the feeling of an unprincipled man—stranger to virtue, cannot speak the language of inspiration. Such an axiom wants no other demonstration. We may find knaves proficient in some manual arts; but, not eminent in the fine arts. When we look at the three Graces of Canova, we must acknowledge that, without the inspiration of a divine mind, which he fostered in his breast, through a life spent with integrity, and labor, those three females, delicately sculpted, could not inspire bystanders with purity, innocence, and love, which, like a perennial spring, emanate from that immortal marble. As in seeing a beautiful woman, whose proportions, though perfect in themselves, the almost imperceptible lines of cunning across her thought, and cheeks, repulse from man’s heart any sympathy of love, thus, if the fire of virtue is wanting in the breast of the orator, poet, or philosopher, he will never be able to inspire men of understanding, perspicacity, and sensibility. A spoiled woman may ensnare a weak man, and a soit disant orator ensnare also an ignorant people. Still, the first cannot be a lady, and the second is but a demagogue.
Could Talma impart on the stage those heroic sentiments, had he not been gifted with lofty sentiments, and integrity? A virtuous man is able to delineate the vice he does despise; but a vicious man cannot imitate the heavenly virtue he has not in his breast. Virtue can understand vice; but vice cannot understand virtue. Ardeat qui vult incendere, says the virtuous Roman, whose eminent qualities of character, entitled him the father of eloquence. Where is the enlightened nation, who would suffer, or support the orator, poet, or philosopher, were each of these literary men practically, and hypocritically polluting the temple of Virtue, the only Divinity, dictating order to our society? And here, by enlightened nation, I do not mean nations led by the furies of superstition, false religion, or fanaticism, the shame of mankind. Though virtue is not the only requisite faculty to form an eminent artist; still, like the sun in the planetary system, unless it reflects upon every idea, and sentiments of the man of letters, his ideas, and sentiments would remain without animation.
Because not all the immortal writers had passed an unblemished life, shall we say that virtue is not the essential mover in a man of letters? Yes: Bacon, in some instances of his life, had been a mean wretch; but, because Bacon was bribed in an evil hour, can we sustain that he had been a bad man all his life? Though Bacon had not been always wise, his retirement, repentence, accusation of himself, and studies, evidently prove he was not a stranger to virtue. Still, had Bacon praised virtue at the very moment he was unworthy of the Divinity to whom he burned incense before, or after; such a speech, or writing, could impart neither colors, nor animation to his abortive thoughts. “Virtue is like precious odors, most fragrant, when they are incensed.” And Bacon himself says: “For, he may rely upon it, that he can no more transmit conviction, and sensation, which he himself has not, at the time, sincerely felt, than he can convey a clear title to property in which he himself has no right.”
And why does the unbeliever respect the piety of a Fenelon, and a Fenelon, the morals of an unbeliever? To those, who would be bribed in order to imitate a Bacon, I have only to say, that baboons will never reach immortality, when, instead of imitating Bacon’s fine qualities, they willingly embrace, rather, that wrong side of the writer, which suit best their own rapacious propensities.
Every gentleman, who experienced the scourge of tyranny, will maintain, that it is better to be poor in a free country, than to have a princely state without a country. I say a gentleman: and those, who enjoy in their selfish wealth, without feeling any sympathy towards numerous human beings, struggling in want, are no gentlemen. Freedom is a Divinity, who does not leave in want her dutiful worshippers: and the Fathers’ ashes of this Union are still warm with the truth of this sacred sentiment. It is with sorrow of mind I hear unitedstatians asserting with sophisms, and without shame, that, as the best liberty is wealth, they do not adhere, but to those members of congress, whose speeches benefit right, or wrong, their only direct interest. Hence the contestations of party men, whose advocates are shamefully called orators, because they feel with them the babbling of their private interest.—Liberty for me, and slavery for my neighbor!
Virtue, integrity, justice, and so on, are all ridiculous, and empty words, when pronounced by that merchant, inveighing against the so called Nullifier, who demonstrated the advantages of free havens. And why does the physician hate that philosopher, who demonstrated, that a great quantity of physic impairs our constitution? And why, that printer declines from publishing that article of a true literary man? Had we not heard that divine, speaking badly of that dancing master, and of his art; and while this, should look with respect at another true pious moralist, had not the dancing master called a worthy divine a hypocrite? Is it not, the moderate, and healthy exercise of dancing beneficient to morals? And morals and modesty do they not give a fine, and lovely countenance, to the graceful art of Vestris? Mens sana in corpore sano. That we are not civilized yet, it is sufficient to see how many imperfect professional men flourish in this country, not for their proficiency; but, because they slander their professional superiors. And why those interested contrary parties became to personalities, unless they have forgotten the academical language of freedom, and virtue? That pretended man of letters, is he not displeased to find another man of letters more enlightened than himself; while, instead of wishing to be indicated by an ignorant community, as the first man of his age, he should love arts, and sciences, for the sake, only, of social benefit, and the improvement of his own mind? Thus, every one in turning the stream of water towards his own mill, stops its beneficient course, while they should build their mills one under the other. In our european, and american semi-barbarian societies, almost every one wishes to imitate a Cesar, or a Napoleon, while they call themselves republicans.
With what courage shall we call that public speaker a worthy citizen, while cunningly avoiding every thing, which naturally happen contradictory to his own argument, he magnifies with eternal amplifications, the mites he wishes to represent large as mammoths? Without the ne quid nimis, we cannot expect to reach perfection. Men of letters look to petty envies, and slanderous speeches, as a great obstacle to refinement. Liberty, virtue, integrity, justice, are very pretty words, indeed!—and in the time of Danton, and the Devil; innocent blood ran in the streets of Paris, while those mean tyrants had nothing in their mouths but liberty, and justice. From whence does it come that we feel an inclination to kick an Antonius just, when he pronounces the word Liberty, and when it comes from the mouth of a Cato, we feel a heavenly inspiration, which nobilitates our nature? And why do our tears fall on the pages of greek history, when it simply describes the exiled Aristides, passing through the innumerable, dangerous army of Xerses, in order to rescue his beloved, though ungrateful country? Could Demosthenes, could Cicero be the admiration of their country, and posterity, had their orations been pronounced without the conviction of defending the lawful cause of the worthy citizen?
A want of education causes some people to believe that serious deportment, stiff manners, and thundering voice, are the requisites of a gentleman. Hence derives that custom of answering, sir! with three exclamations, even when the questioned understood, at once, his addresser. In some courts, I saw lawyers speaking with animosity, for no other purpose, but to intimidate their opponents. On the contrary, when a virtuous speaker defends the innocent oppressed, or charges against the criminal; mild, charitable, and plain troth, does it not always touch the heart of an instructed people? The inspiration of heaven is without passion, without anger, without malice. The deceitful will always badly say what he does not feel in himself. “It will come out that which I feel here,” touching his breast, said Patrick Henry, when, after many struggles to conquor his modesty, and bashfulness, astonished, for the first time, an audience, burning with patriotism. Prius afficiamur ipsi ut alios afficiamus.
Unitedstatians, if the Fathers’ wisdom of this prospering country is yet felt in your breast, you cannot be but the friends of those, who have liberal sentiments. It is now time for us to understand, that we are all sons, and daughters of one single wise nation, the World’s nation! We are the children of the progress of the human mind! And why all nations will not unite in such a blessing, prosperous fraternity, without which, peace, and commerce cannot attain the highest destination worthy of man? When, we will have learned, without preventions, from the lore of Egypt, Greece, Rome, China—from all earth’s nations; then, national pride, turning into wisdom, we will shake hands with all the literary men of every country: and the rivalities, envies of governments, religious parties, secret or public societies, shall be unbecoming, among human beings, whom nature, or God, if you please, had called to help each other, without distinction. The individuals, who think that nothing can be taught to them by strangers, are already deprived of wisdom. A child may give a good advise to a great man; and a foreigner, who would take the trouble to point out any of our faults, should be welcomed among us, when he, or she do it with the spirit to improve man’s institutions, and morals. Shame be to him who, with the bible in hand, excites the reformers against the catholics! To perfection should be man’s duty to aim at; and the nearest is man to perfection, the better for him, and his neighbors. Those, who have, or will misrepresent us, time will do us justice. If they speak the truth, we should be thankful, and try to correct our faults, which are more injurious to ourselves, than what is said by our most mortal, or cunning foes. If they speak, or write falsehoods, they do nothing but injure their own reputation. The slander does, unfortunately, prevail some times: but, like the night, it always disappears at the coming of the day. Slander did often act mischief to a particular innocent man; never, when applied to a whole nation. Our principal object be, therefore, that of aiming at perfection, and practical virtue, without which no man has a right to be ranked among men of letters.
I cannot close this last chapter, without saying something of the natives’ procession, which took place in New-York, 15th of november, 1844. Such a procession is the shame of this country! Were it not sufficient wisdom among the citizens of this Union, the natives’ erroneous ideas they have of strangers, living in America, would ruin this country. Were it but two, or three years I am living in this country, on the next day, after that procession, I would have shipped myself, and my rags for a country, where the sacred word of Hospitality has not yet been profaned! Had I voted in this country, I would feel ashamed of myself now; and I am happy not to have done it. And he who has such a kind feeling as I have for America will be more offended, than he, who might come here with the intention of making money. The true republican will, hereafter, hesitate to place his foot on these shores, where the word Republic might be but a name. Go to my poor country, you americans; and, although we have monarchical governments, you will be welcomed; and were you expressing the wish of becoming a citizen, we would be happy to number you as our brothers—were we republicans as you are, your hands, and hearts, would be still a greater blessing to us. We would not fear for any thing you would say, or write: if you are wrong, we would demonstrate you are wrong; if you are right, we would thank you for your instruction. How many strangers have you, holding your offices? The few you have employed, it was because you could not fulfill those offices yourselves, the object of those offices being grounded on the knowledge of modern languages; and the foreign, american consuls, who personate you in their own countries, they serve you, without receiving any fee from you. When did strangers rule you? And, where is the act done by strangers against the welfare of this country?—It is not the strangers whom you fear: I am rather inclined to believe, it is the liberal education, now going around the world, which you fear; and the truth, coming from the mouth of strangers, must offend you. The poor, virtuous strangers, who, with their rags, bring here to you their pure suffering mind, and labor, is the very wealth of this country. They should be more welcomed by you, than princes, whose glittering gold cannot conceal their false pride, and vices, injuring this very republic. The princes, whom you welcome in preference to virtuous men of letters, would like to see the ruin of America, in order to keep themselves upon those thrones, now shaking at the voice of Republic. The poor people, bring here, to you, their mind, purified in the furnace of vicissitude, and suffering: their labor cleared and clear your deserted forests; they made and make your railroads, and built and build new cities, and forts, which frighten all the despots of this selfish earth. When your fathers left the despotism of their old country, they were no more natives of America, than the poor irish, who landed, here, yesterday. Had not Columbus discovered this continent, you would be still natives of Europe—the natives of the very brethren, whom you wish to drive away! You should not, at least, bring the aboriginals of this country, the noble, generous red men, in your procession, now driven from their own native land—You should not make of them an instrument to suit your purposes. If you do not mock them—you deny with such an exhibition, the very blood of your european fathers and mothers! Who fought with your fathers for the welfare of this republic?—The strangers! And were you to have a war, the strangers would fight in your ranks with, and for you: and if your enemies are so careful not to fight you; it is, because they know, that strangers would fight with you, and that your very enemies’ soldiers would not fight against the american ranks in which their very brothers are here, defending the cause of liberty!—And why the honest strangers will not breathe free, here, as well as you? Does the stranger wrong you? You have your courts of justice, and your penitentiaries. Has he committed a crime in his native country?—You should send him back, chained, to that country. To whom are you indebted for your daily blessings?—You would be the only nation on the globe, who, in feeling no gratitude towards strangers, would consider strangers a curse to them. All nations, acquainted with political economy, invite strangers to become their citizens. Though Italy is the most populous nation in the world, were Italy administered as it should be, she could maintain a population six times as much. The soil had never been wanted to man. This Union is so extensive, that, were all the people of Europe coming here tomorrow, they would not suffice to people these vast territories. England is an island, the production of which is not sufficient to maintain that population, without industry. Those manufactures are obliged to work for other nations, from which they derive their food. America is not England. You have, here, all the climates of earth, and all the blessings, and nature’s productions. Why will you imitate the political economy of an island of rocks in a cold climate, while you have the most fertile, virgin lands of the world? What are you doing of your immense, deserted lands, and forests? Send there colonies of the industrious, patient, brave, and honest irish: give them means to begin the world; and in a few years, the grateful irish will be happy, bless you, and pay you back the hundred per cent, with their lawful, direct taxes: and then, the government of this Union will be the richest, the most powerful, and most blessed, and exemplary in the world. Money is an element, like rain, or free air; it will come back to you, because your land is the richest, and your laws are the best; I mean laws, the most adapted to render the people happy. In kicking out the naked, who come to you, you kick out your own fortune. Do you not know that the miser robs himself? If you want your ruin, you have only to wall yourselves up, like the chineses of Pekin.—Look at the poor, honest irish girl: if your heart is that of a dutiful son, think that your mother, now in the grave, was, at the time of the american revolution, on this far, distant land, like that poor suffering irish girl, who works very hard for her daily bread—she is your faithful, devoted servant. It is our duty to respect the poor; and if we cannot ameliorate their situation, the christian must, at least, neither undervalue, nor contemn them. And why the word Beggar became in the english language a term of contempt?—Because, we do not think, that, society, not providing for the poor, they are forced to steal for a living; and could we have the justice of God, we would see that many beggars, who terminated their painful life on the gallows, might have been the most useful members of society. Have charity towards the poor—Jesus Christ was poor. Respect the rags!—Were it only, because your fathers’ virtue shined brighter through their rags. Your blood (so much the better for it) is not from lord’s blood: it is a blood from noble, poor republicans, pure as heaven; a blood which passed through the furnace of poverty, and misfortune. Your fathers left their old country to escape the oppression of lords. But, now you are the lords of this country, you wish to lord your very brethren who feel as you the right of man.
As you might think me, here, an interested part, I will say nothing else on this sacred subject. But, when the geniuses, and great men of this country will be supported by a national justice, you will have then a National Literature, with which they will tell you these truths, couched in a better language. The National Literature will prevent you from committing such political blunders. The american geniuses will demonstrate to you, that the more a nation has liberality, popularity, hospitality, and republicanism, the more blessings will shine on that country.