AMERICAN LITERATURE.

LIFE OF WASHINGTON.

THE disputes upon the deficiency of American genius, we fear, are not yet put to rest, by the appearance of any such splendid evidence of intellectual power, or any work of such uncommon merit, as to establish the affirmative of the argument. It remains a question, which time and experience, rather than reason and probability, must determine. Whatever may be said by the advocates of our countrymen, with regard to their natural talents, and the unreasonableness of expecting great evidences of intellect under the present state of society in America, before there exists wealth enough either for leisure or patronage; it seems apparent, on a close observation, that the inveterate habit of seeking and accumulating wealth, has extinguished the refined faculty of literary taste; and, instead of it, there has arisen a disposition to literary discouragement. This country is placed, in respect to England, very favourably, as regards the diffusion of general information ; but adverse, as regards the productions of genius from herself. We have the advantages of receiving all the European refinements of excellencies, without any of the aids to produce them. We have neither extensive libraries, nor taste, nor disposition to patronize literary exertions.

The late Mr. Ames, whose productions, replete with fancy and glowing with ardent thought, have the fairest chance to rescue the sinking reputation of his country, has left a discussion upon the subject of American Literature, in which he has ingeniously endeavoured to account for our backwardness in intellectual attainments. But whilst we admit that he evinces very clearly why genius is not now encour, aged, we consider many of his reasonings as proofs that the disposition, now so hostile, is not likely to terminate more favourably hereafter. We may be destined to become the Boeotia of the modern world; though we have not yet attained even that degree of eminence, for, if we have many fogs, we have not produced a Plutarch.

In their account of Judge Marshall's Life of Washington, the Edinburg Reviewers introduce some remarks; from which, as they have a tendency to elucidate the subject we are noticing, as well as to give a pretty fair estimate of the worth of that voluminous work, we shall offer a short extract. Speaking of the concluding part of the work, they proceed thus:

This last volume is loaded with speeches, which clumsily and indistinctly supply the place of comprehensive views of the subjects to which they relate. Many of these speeches display great commercial knowledge, and a forcible and keen style of argument. But we have

never yet seen any specimens of American eloquence, that did not grievously sin against the canons of taste; and, indeed, oratory is not to be looked for in a country which has none of the kindred arts. The consideration which absorbs every other, in a country situated like America, is that of acquiring wealth. Every particle of intellect, therefore, is attracted to active occupation. Now, it is written in a wise old book, that learning cometh by opportunity of leisure, and that he that hath but little business shall become wise. When America, then, shall have reached that more advanced stage; when a greater accumulation of wealth shall have given leisure to a greater portion of her inhabitants she will then nourish a class, new in her population, that of men of letters then she will have orators, and poets, and historians; and then she will look back with other feelings, than we suspect she at present entertains, to the ludicrous proposition of her Congress, to declare herself the most enlightened nation on the globe.

• In these volumes, we have found a great many words and phrases which English criticism refuses to acknowledge. America has thrown off the yoke of the British nation; but she would do well, for some time, to take the laws of composition from the Addisons, the Swifts, and the Robertsons, of her ancient sovereign. In short, our previous impressions of American literature have by no means been weakened by the perusal of these books; and we think it pretty strong proof of the poverty of her literary attainments, that she has not yet been able to tell the story of her own revolution, and to pourtray the character of her hero and sage, in language worthy such subjects. These remarks, however, are not dictated by any paltry feelings of jealousy or pride. We glory in the diffusion of our language over a new world, where we hope it is yet destined to collect new triumphs; and in the brilliant perspective of American greatness, we see only pleasing images of associated prosperity and glory to the land in which we live.

This opinion in regard to American literature, of these eminent reviewers, is strongly supported by those of Mr. Ames, upon the subject. Thus he speaks of genius :—

'Genius, it will be said, like a conflagration on the mountains, consumes its fuel in its flame. Not so it is a spark of elemental fire that is unquenchable, the contemporary of this creation, and destined with the human soul to survive it. As well might the stars of heaven be said to expend their substance by their lustre. It is not to the intellectual world what the electrick fluid is to nature, diffused every where, yet almost every where hidden, capable by its own mysterious laws of action and by the very breath of applause, that like the unseen wind excites it, of producing effects that appear to transcend all power, except that of some supernatural agent riding in the whirlwind. In an hour of calm we suddenly hear its voice, and are moved with the general

agitation. It smites, astonishes, and confounds, and seems to kindle half the firmament.'

He then assigns as a reason, why the Americans do not seek reputation in the paths of literature, because they can much sooner gain it on the road to wealth. He speaks in the following terms of the love of fame:

The passion that acts the strongest, when it acts at all, is fear; for, in its excess, it silences all reasoning, and all other passions. But that which acts with the greatest force, because it acts with the greatest constancy, is the desire of consideration. There are very few men who are greatly deceived with respect to their own measure of sense or abilities, or who are much dissatisfied on that account; but we ..scarcely see any who are quite at ease about the estimate that other people make of them. Hence it is, that the great business of mankind is to fortify or create claims to general regard. Wealth procures respect, and more wealth, would procure more respect. The man, who, like Midas, turns all he touches into gold, who is oppressed and almost buried in its superfluity, who lives to get, instead of getting to live, and at length belongs to his own estate and is its greatest incumbrance, still toils and contrives to accumulate wealth, not because he is deceived in regard to his wants, but because he knows and feels, that one of his wants, which is insatiable, is that respect which follows its possession. After engrossing all that the seas and mountains conceal, he would be still unsatisfied, and with some good reason, for of the treasures of esteem who can ever have enough? Who would mar or renounce one half his reputation in the world?"

It is not to be denied however, that this love of wealth will absorb, as Mons. Talleyrand observes, all the generous feelings, and will not only check the growth of the plant, but destroy the seed in the earth. Mr. Ames continues:

Our citizens have not been accustomed to look on rank or titles, or on birth or office as capable of the least rivalship with wealth, mere wealth, in pretensions to respect. Of course the single passion that engrosses us, the only avenue to consideration and importance in our society, is the accumulation of property: our inclinations cling to gold, and are bedded in it as deeply as that precious ore in the mine. Covered as our genius is in this mineral crust, is it strange that it does not sparkle? Pressed down to earth, and with the weight of mountains on our heads, is it surprizing, that no sons of ether yet have spread their broad wings to the sky, like Jove's own eagle, to gaze undazzled at the sun, or to perch on the top of Olympus, and partake the banquet of the gods!

At present the nature of our government inclines all men to seek popularity, as the object next in point of value to wealth; but the ac

quisition of learning and the display of genius are not the ways to obtain it. Intellectual superiority is so far from conciliating confidence, that it is the very spirit of a democracy, as in France, to proscribe the aristocracy of talents. To be the favourite of an ignorant multitude, a man must descend to their level; he must desire what they desire, and detest what they do not approve; he must yield to their prejudices, and substitute them for principles. Instead of enlightening their errours, he must adopt them; he must furnish the sophistry that will propagate and defend them.

Surely we are not to look for genius among demagogues: the man who can descend so low, has seldom very far to descend. As experience evinces, that popularity, in other words, consideration and power, is to be produced by the meanest of mankind, the meanest in spirit and understanding, and in the worst of ways it is obvious, that at present the excitement to genius is next to nothing. If we had a Pindar, he would be ashamed to celebrate our chief, and would be disgraced if he did. But if he did not, his genius would not obtain his election for a selectman in a democratick town.'

THE fate of the British expedition to Spain, seems already to have silenced enquiry with regard to the ultimate destiny of that most unfortunate country, But the effects of the British expedition could never have singly been calculated upon in any event, as bringing the struggle of the Spanish people to a decisive issue. Forty thousand men were, to be sure, a very fortunate reinforcement to the Spaniards, but they did not form a junction soon enough to render their co-operation with the patriót armies of any permanent utility. It was easy to foresee, that unless the Spaniards could have joined them, with at least 60,000 men, all the bravery of the British would be lavished in vain. The Spaniards were quelled, that is, so as to destroy all their efforts at co-operation, before the English arrived, and we fear the delay of the expedition from the attention of the ministry to points of minor importance, has been one principal cause of its ill-success. One expedition is sent to Portugal, and another to Corunna, points as distant as possible from each other; of course, judging of the character of their adversary, before they could form a junction, the fate of the first armies of the patriots must have been determined. If they had been successful, the English would indeed have arrived in time to drive away the invaders; but still they would not have saved Spain by their exertions. The brunt of the effectual fighting, would have been previously borne by the Spaniards themselves. As it has turned out, the most brilliant victory obtained by the English before Corunna, could have been of no material avail. Our hopes never rested upon the British troops, brave as they.

are, but upon the continuance of the Castilian spirit. The peninsula is nearly overrun but is that spirit subdued? If not, our hopes are not extinguished. At all events, it will result that the same Spain which has hitherto contributed her blood and treasure in supporting and maintaining the empire of Napoleon, will no longer exist. The enmity which the present struggle has been calculated to excite, will never be eradicated; and neither the revenue nor the physical aid of the peninsula can ever again be expected by Bonaparte. The colonies too, are probably for ever alienated from all allegiance to him. The treasure, therefore, of the new world, will probably remain there, or be sent to England; and the emperour will be obliged to seek for other resources to maintain his armies. And extensive military establish ments he will be obliged to maintain, even to keep Spain under, in the event of her present subjugation.

The force of the example of Spain will not be spent here, but must reach over the other states of the continent. Admitting that no further successes should crown the Spanish arms, and that Bonaparte should, by overwhelming armies, beat down all opposition to his detestable projects; he has lost much, and must lose more, before the struggle is at an end. He has learned, and France has been made to recollect a lesson which she had of late years lost sight of; the powers of popular enthusiams, when roused by injustice and oppression. It is now to be apprehended, that similar acts of usurpation will be met by somewhat of the same resistance wherever they are attempted. There may now be other enemies to beat besides drill sergeants and imperial guards, before armies can march over the countries of unoffending al lies. The feeling of power has been communicated to the people, in every part of Europe; and any such shameless aggressions as those which first roused up this feeling in Spain, will in all likelihood give rise to revolutionary movement elsewhere. It can scarcely be expected, that while things remain quiet, the Germans will change their government; but it is no small improvement of their condition, that the enemy should have reason to dread an intestine revolution (the only forcible antagonist he has ever met with), as often as he attempts to shake, by any extraordinary efforts of usurpation, the existing order of things. 97

Nor will the Spaniards themselves fail to reap the fruits of their valour and patriotism, however sorely they may be discomfited in their present struggle. That Bonaparte will ultimately succeed, we apprehend is highly probable; that he will succeed without great efforts and losses, is absolutely impossible; and no man is frantick enough to suppose, that the utmost success of his arms can subdue the people of Spain into a nation of willing and peaceful slaves. This he knows as well as we do; and we may be assured that he will not only offer them? good terms, after the tide of fortune has begun to turn in his favour,