‘We ought to blame the culture, not the soil.’
It is now conceded on all sides that we have the stamina, or, (to speak in a business-like tone,) the raw material of the first quality. No doubt but we have had Homers in embryo, many a ‘mute inglorious Milton,’ and many a Tasso, ‘cabined, cribbed, and confined’ by oppressive circumstances. But in spite of all those proverbial obstacles, to most of which the American bard[14] is particularly liable, a poetical star sometimes gleams above our horizon. Such instances, it must be confessed, are rare; and in what part of the world is the advent of a good poet not a rare occurrence? With us but little encouragement is offered for any man to devote his time and talents to this branch of literature; and, without exclusive devotion, we are apt to suppose that excellence in any art or science is but seldom attained. But, with respect to encouragement, matters are beginning to take a change for the better;—in our literary world the golden age has been delayed to the last: poetical speculations, albeit of an airy and immaterial nature, now yield something substantial in the way of profit. Poets begin to have ‘a local habitation,’ not in the gaol or garret; and ‘a name,’ not synonymous with starvation. From being objects of cool regard or warm persecution, they have become quite the lions of the day; they visit foreign countries, associate with the nobility, and drink tea (or punch) in the serene presence of the royal family. Even at home, the study (!) of poetry has almost dared to compete with the absorbing calculations of compound interest; and many a clerk is ‘condemned to cross his father’s spirit,’ as Chaucer saith, by penning a stanza ‘when he should make out a bill.’”
This sort of reasoning, in which I am half inclined to believe the author was serious, together with the fact that the principal poets of America are really obliged to seek “a local habitation and a name” in Europe, may be considered as the best proof of the all-absorbing influence of the purse;—an influence which already acts restrictively on genius and talent of the highest order, and will, if it be not counteracted by a more generous system of legislation, and a different spirit diffused among the people, constantly absorb the main sources of thought and action, which give to every nation its individual life and character.
But I trust that the good sense of the people, the intelligence pervading the masses, and, above all, the high degree of morality and virtue which distinguishes the American above all other nations in the world, will be proof against the temptations of a handful of political sceptics; and that the country, blessed with Nature’s richest gifts, and selected by Providence for the noblest experiment tried by man, will fulfil its mission,—which is not only the civilization of a new world, but the practical establishment of principles which heretofore have only had an ideal existence.
Thus cogitating, I pulled my night-cap over my head, put out the candle, and fell fast asleep. Agitated as I had been during the whole day, my sleep could not remain undisturbed by dreams. I imagined myself somewhere near the Hudson or the Delaware, in the midst of a large, flourishing city, besieged, stormed, and finally carried by a victorious Western army, whose gallant leader dictated laws written in blood to the affrighted populace. A deputation of “leading citizens,” who had come to offer their riches as a ransom for their lives, he thus apostrophized in a stern and solemn voice:—“Fools that ye were to wish for artificial distinctions! Know that the origin of every aristocracy is the sword, not the purse, or the Jews would long ago have become the masters of the world! You have claimed the purse for yourself, and now the sword shall take it!”
END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
LONDON:
PRINTED BY SAMUEL BENTLEY,
Bangor House, Shoe Lane.
FOOTNOTES:
[14] The word “American” is in Italics in the original.