{115}

And then, turning to the Spartans, they went on as follows:

"That the Lacedemonians should fear lest we should make terms with the barbarian was very natural; yet, knowing as you do the mind of Athenians, you appear to entertain an unworthy dread, for there is neither so much gold anywhere in the world, nor a country so pre-eminent in beauty and fertility by receiving which we should be willing to side with the Mede and enslave Greece. For there are many and powerful considerations that forbid us to do so, even if we were inclined. First and chief, the images and dwellings of the gods, burnt and laid in ruins: this we must needs avenge to the utmost of our power rather than make terms with the man who has perpetrated such deeds. Secondly, the Grecian race being of the same blood and the same language and the temples of the gods and sacrifices in common, and our customs being similar—for the Athenians to become betrayers of these would not be well. Know, therefore, if you did not know it before, that so long as one Athenian is left alive, we will never make terms with Xerxes. Your forethought, however, which you manifest towards us, we admire, in that you offer to provide for us whose property is thus ruined, so as to be willing to support our families, and you have fulfilled the duties of benevolence; we, however, will continue in the state we are without being burdensome to you. Now, since matters stand as they do, send out an army with all possible expedition; for, as we conjecture, the barbarian will in no long time be here again to invade our territories as soon as he shall hear our message that we will do none of the things he required of us. Therefore, before he has reached Attica, it is fitting that we go out to meet him in Bœotia."[6]

The passage and its application need no comment. It thrills our blood to-day, as it must have done those who spoke, and those who listened, two thousand four hundred years ago. Would {116} that Greece could have always remained true to her grander instincts and motives!

IV.—THE SAME LITERATURE

In all the articles which we may examine upon the subject of alliance, the existence of a common literature is ranked as one of its main moving causes. I have not found that any of the advocates of Anglo-Saxon co-operation have elaborated this thought. They have rested with a mere statement of the proposition. Strongly self-evident as this seems, I am not satisfied to pass it over without some elaboration. I want to be certain that we all understand and appreciate the nature and degree of the influence of literature upon this proposed union. Why is literature an important, natural factor, in the proposed alliance? As I take it, it is because we gather most of our knowledge and mental training from the same intellectual fountainhead. English literature tells us how the English-American people think; it shows what their process and basis of reasoning and feeling are, upon all subjects, small and great. If we are the same in our ideas, we behold its reflection in this vast mirror of thought and opinion; if we are divergent, we know the reason; and as one of the most ordinary functions of literature is to state, explain, examine, and discuss, eventually we are brought to a closer basis of common thought.

Besides all this, our literature marks course of national life—retrogressive or progressive. {117} It holds up in the widest sense the "glass of fashion and the mould of form."

Certainly, if a proposition were made to establish an alliance between France and the United States of America, or between Germany or Russia and the United States, the literature of these countries could not be appealed to, to establish a common tie or natural bond of sympathy between them. The Americans, as a people, know as little of French literature as the French, German, or Russians know of English literature. The literature of each of these countries is as a sealed book, except to those who have the leisure and inclination for special studies. Different causes and motives would therefore have to be sought for, to support a proposition of union. In the case of the Anglo-Saxon people, however, it is otherwise; they read the same books, magazines, and papers; they feed on the same intellectual food. Words perish as soon as they are spoken. Literature never dies, but is transmitted from generation to generation without end or limit. The literature of a country is the expression not only of its actual knowledge, but also of its genius and natural character; and this is diffused through all channels of publication, by means of books, magazines, and papers. Whenever this manifestation finds a lodgment in the minds of its readers, it is again transmitted by language. Literature, therefore, becomes a prolific source of instruction and education, and, as we drink from the same fountain of knowledge and inspiration, our tastes, habits, and modes of [118] thought necessarily approximate to each other. An individual reads for pleasure or instruction, and what he receives of either or both combined, he again readily imparts by speech or pen to whomsoever he meets; hence literature acts directly upon some, and indirectly upon all. The Anglo-Saxon people, through the medium of literature, are continuously en rapport with each other. Everything published in the English language becomes common property to the whole English-speaking world; giving rise, according to its degree of merit, to the same impressions; calling into exercise the same faculties and sensibilities. The influence of literature may be considered in direct connection with language, of which it is the growth, and which in its turn it amplifies, strengthens, and embellishes. But let us consider the matter a little more closely.

In point of quantity, the publications in the English language are said to exceed those of all the other nations of the earth combined. In point of scholarship, art in writing, eloquence, spirit, research, and knowledge, English literature is certainly second to none. It may be natural partiality arising from the native use of the language and more intimate acquaintance with the originals, but it is a conviction deeply rooted in the mind of the English reader, even the most scholarly, that his own literature is, upon the whole, the greatest that the ages have yet produced.

In its composite form, it is a link in the chain, binding together the present and the past. I do {119} not now refer to the past of our own race, when we were all participating in its formation, but to what is properly known as antiquity. With many of the words and phrases, and much of the syntax and prosody of the ancient tongues, we have also imbibed much of their spirit—of what is properly designated the "classic." I am not one of those who belittle the classic; far from wishing to see it eliminated, I would wish to see it cultivated. With all the native strength of the "English," there was ample room for the infusion of the graces and proprieties of the Greek and Latin.[7]