-n ■ ^ DISCOURSE "^ ^ :) HISTORY, AS A BRANCH OF THE NATIONAL LITERATURE, DELIVERED BEFORE TUE BELLES LETTRES SOCIETY OF DICKINSON COLLEGE, BY JOB R.'^YSON, AX HOKOKARY MEMBER. PHILADELPHIA: T. K. AND P. G. COLLINS, PllINTERS, 1849. iD C % 1/ DISCOURSE HISTORY, BRANCH OF THE NATIONAL LITERATURE. DELIVERED BEFORE THE BELLES LETTRES SOCIETY OF DICKINSON COLLEGE. JOB R. TYSON, P H I L A D E L r II I A : T. K. AND P. G. COLLINS, PRINTERS. 1849. T)iC u r? Philadelphia, JTov. 1, 1849. To CHARLES J. T. M INTIRE, THOMAS J. HUTCHINS, W. C. WILSON, Esqiurcs, Oojiimillcc (if Bellas Lcttrcs Socicti/ nf Dickinson Oolli-rje. Gentlemen, I cordially thank your Society for its compliment- ary resolution of the 12th of July, respecting my Address. A copy of it could not be sent for the printer, as requested, during your vacation. Engage- ments and absences must plead for the delay since. On the main topic of the Discourse I feel some so- licitude. It is a great question, on which volumes could be vi^ritten. No permanent injury, it is hoped, will be sustained from my inadequate enforcement of its claims to your notice, and now, through the press, to the American public. I have persuaded myself that a historical literature of our own would excite and diffuse a deeper interest in our domestic annals, and inspire a more ardent and rational love of country. The spiritof this department would be transfused into every other. It cannot be said of our country, that " every field has its battle, and every rivulet its song," but an absorbinir love of our native land would soon 6 LETTER TO THE COMMITTEE. kindle the genius of its children into making many spots of its extended surface renowned and classical. But the incidental reference to Macaulay's History of England, though introduced merely as an illustra- tion, seems to have attracted as much attention as the main topic of the discourse. Two several critiques vs'hich appeared about the time of its delivery, im- puted my sentiments respecting this history, to the unfavorable view wliich it takes of the character of William Penn, and my own descent from a Quaker ancestry. There is no part of history, so called, which has so little effect upon the discerning reader as the ascrip- tion of motives to historical persons. The memory of the virtuous Founder of Pennsylvania, for example, will not be injured by the misconstructions of his un- sparing assailant. It has survived much keener as- saults. His whole life was a struggle with and against the prejudices of his age. Upon the deposition of James H., all the reproaches which tlie fury of in- flamed religious and party zeal could invent, were en- listed against him. Macaulay has reproduced charges which were then disproved, and repeated epithets of which those who employed them afterwards became ashamed. Who will believe that a man who had re- moved the penalty of death from nearly two hundred offences, could delight in contemplating the agonized victims of the gibbet; or that he who had so signally proved his love of freedom, would wittingly minister to the dark designs of a despot? But a more fitting LETTER TO THE COMMITTEE. 7 occasion than the present will offer to do justice to the public and private character of Penn. A Quaker lineage of five or six generations, is an inadequate reason for one's dissenting from the doc- trine and spirit of a historian, who is asserted to be quite as near to the immediate disciples of Fox as his commentator. If such a motive could operate upon the judgment, his distorted account of the rise and history of the English Church would not be without its influence upon the question of appreciation. There is indeed little bias to warp or prejudice to mislead me, which is not controlled or neutralized by an antagonist influence. Historians, it is said, should be of no coun- try, religion, or party, but! suppose the philosopliy of the sentiment is satisfied with an emancipation from their sinister influences. But no part of Macaulay will strike an American reader so painfully, as the studied eulogy and undue prominence which he gives to the aristocratic element of the British Constitution. It may be anticipated that his anti-republican bias will become more mani- fest as he approaches our own day; especially when the track of his history shall lead him across the At- lantic, into the designs of Congress, and into the Council Chamber of Washington, Jefferson, and Ha- milton. That pen which would consign the Founder of Pennsylvania to infamy, may not hesitate to brand the illustrious fathers of our nation with motives un- worthy of their patriotism. The free spirit of Europe had risen when this his- torian began to write. He has not avowed with what LETTER TO THE COMMITTEE. purpose his liistory was undertaken, nor whether his great task was assumed at the instance of others, or from a beUef that he had sufficient power to check the insurgent tendency of the masses. The presses of England were loud in giving it publicity, and their note of exultation at the manner of its accomplishment, was heard, in its echoes, through the baronial halls of Europe. My own humble convictions are against the wisdom of an organic change in the body of British society, however beneficially the pruning-knife might be ap- plied to its excrescent branches. But that writer can- not be regarded as a discreet or wise counsellor of England, who eulogizes the existing state of affairs, as the best of all possible political arrangements on the globe. Time must reveal the destructive folly of such a delusion. All dispassionate men, who turn from the glowing page of the historian to the truthful reality of events in the history of England, must per- ceive the probable result of a persistence in her infa- tuated errors. But lest it may be said that this long Address is accompanied by a very long and very tedious letter, I hasten to bid you, Very cordially and truly, Adieu ! J. R. Tyson. HISTORY AS A BRANCH OF THE NATIONAL LITERATURE. Gentlemen of the Belles Lettres Fellowship: The antiquity of the parent college invites me, on the anniversary of the birth of its oldest offspring, to a topic which is interwoven with the highest interests and duties of both. The age of your Society is not indeed coeval with the birth of the nation, but with the era of its political independence, as solemnly recognized by the treaty of Paris.* The idea of na- tional sovereignty includes the freedom of the in. tellect. But the mind of the people is in captivity if it acknowledge, or be, in fact, passive under the dominion of England. I would overthrow this spirit of mental subjection, which enervates or cripples its energies, by cultivating a taste and exciting an ambi- tion for a national literature. * The Belles Lettres Fcllow.ship was formed in 1783. 10 }1I.ST(IKV A BRANCH OF No one is more sensible than tlie person who ad- dresses you, of the prevaihng excellence of Enghsh letters, of the depth by which they are marked, of the purity of tnste and splendor of genius, by which they are adorned. The honors shed by the philoso- phers and poets of Britain, fall to the lot of our in- heritance, and encircle, with a brilliant halo, the American name. But the family bond was sundered at the Revolution, and though from ancient habits and filial attachment we rejoice in her subsequent tri- umphs, and participate with the world in the common benefits of her achievements, we are entitled to none of the glories they confer. While commending this subject to your grave medi- tations and patriotic activity, let me suggest a theme, which duly improved, may constitute an element of a national system of letters. I allude to History in all ages and nations, with a view to the advancement of political and social science. This is a topic, gen- tlemen, which has peculiar claims upon your Society. An association for Belles Lettres studies, implies an appreciation of those arts of grace and beauty, over which the Muses preside ; — the predominance of a literary spirit and taste, in harmony with its impres- sive and elevated lessons. Clio, the muse of History, claims the rank of seniority as the oldest sister of the Nine. The subject then, upon which I propose to address you, is the philosophy of history as a branch of the national literature. In surveying the grounds of a domestic system of letters, all must be struck with the adaptation of such THE NATIONAL LITERATURE. ] ] a study to our wants and purposes, in a new hemi- sphere. The experiences of all limes and places must be invoked as the teachers of that people, who seek to govern themselves u])on a rational theoi-y of society and government. It is only the lessons unfolded by the annals of mankind, which can enable us to meet those unusual events, those sudden and complicated conjunctures, which time and the collisions of society must produce, under all the advantages of self-govern- ment, aided by universal popular light. The subject of government and manners would be surveyed, by our writers, from a new situation and with a powerful lens. The supreme law of the land, the lex legum of the confederacy, denies to the most exalted of her citizens "the grant of any title of no- bility." It is this feature which imparts shape and expression to the national visage. The ideas which gave birth to the republican principle, and the effect which this has produced upon the moral constitution of society, are necessary parts of its history. When we add the distinctive forms of our state and federal sovereignties, the colonial settlements, and the Indian tribes, a strange and novel complexion is spread over our domestic affairs. The social structure being thus upon a model of its own, man himself appears in a new guise and ascends to greater dignity. Where, from common wants and equality of condition, men are mutually dependent upon each other, the social .sympathies, and the chari- ties of neighborhood are more cultivated, and become more intense. Philanthropy, from being a principle. 12 HISTORY A BRANCH OF becomes an instinct. Hence we trace to this country the origin of many, perhaps most of those schemes in behalf of afflicted and oppressed liumanity, which, of late years, have so ardently excited the attention of benevolent laborers in Europe. It is to us mankind are indebted for the principles of the Peace and Tem- perance societies, the mitigation of penal codes, the reform of prisons, and many other of the great moral movements of the present age. To science, in all its ministrations to use and convenience, the same re- mark may be applied. The quadrant, the lightning- rod, many of the manifold applications of steam-power, the electric telegraph, and a hundred other useful in- ventions and improvements, owe their existence to the practical tendencies of the national intellect, to the attrition of mind with mind, in the awakened activity of emulous or kindred intelligences. Here then may be collected the seeds, which, in the hands of the philo- sophic husbandman, are to be brought to maturity, and garnered as the choice fruits of a literary harvest. Here may be found the most teeming tract in a wide and almost boundless domain. Let us then take a glance at the uses and province of hi.s1ory, in order to discern the sphere and value of a department, which, in its responsibilities, its influence, and its scope, transcends any in the broad and diversified regions of literature. Not to know what has gone before us, says Cicero, is always to continue a child. He only on whose mind has been poured the genial treasures of history, THE NATIONAL LITERATURE. 13 has emerged from intellectual infancy, and started from the goal of childhood. If he has lived in other ages and nations than the age and nation in whicli he was born, he must have imbibed something of the mind and genius w\\h which each is impressed ; some food for reflection, some principle of practice, know- ledge, or refinement, which expands his nature and elevates his being. History sheds around the path a broad and distinct radiance, illuminating tlie present and pouring its beams into the future. The events of other ages so emit their bright lights and cast their gloomy shadows before us, that we foresee and realize the certainty of the future, in these images of the past. As we are not only watched by our cotemporaries, but are recorded and judged of by po.sterity, we have all the incitements which reason can add to the love of fame, to study those great events which the conduit-pipe of history can pour from the full reservoir of time. It is to this source, unmixed with the prejudices of the day, and free from those personal considerations which influence the judgment in active life, that the philosopher must look for the secret springs of motive, and for a key to unlock the mysteries of the human heart. It is from no vain or unmeaning reason, that man- kind have given to the Father of History an undying celebrity. Cicero informs us, in his Tusculan dispu- tations, that Scipio Africanus had always in his hand one of the works of Xenophon. If it be true that history is philosophy teaching by examples, the fame 14 HISTORY A BRANCH OF of Herodotus and the practice of Scipio, are both ex- plamed. The school of example, says Bolingbroke, is the world, and the masters are history and experience. But that practical wisdom which may be acquired in story, has this superiority over the personal experience of ourselves and others. It is not liable to the objec- tion of being learnt at our own expense, and is less partial and imperfect. Experience, from the brevity of its span, is transient and incomplete. History, in its extensive survey, embraces the beginning and the end. The experience of a long life gives us only a few links of a continuous chain; but in history we see tlie whole concatenation, from the first opening to the final catastrophe. We see virtue rewarded and vice unmasked and punished; or, if death overtake the offender before the discovery of his misdeeds, we witness the retribution of historical justice executed in those eloquent denunciations of the historian, which condemn him to perpetual infamy. The application of general maxims to the conduct of life, or the reduction into practice of the abstract speculations of philosophy, is not suited to the inclina- tions, or is beyond the ordinary powers of the human mind. But examples derived from story, are instinct- ively apprehended ; the embodied truth is brought palpably before us. While a general principle or a sound maxim may pass unheeded, we cannot resist the potency of the conclusion which the facts combine to deduce; and those sentiments which are derived from historical materials, are engraved upon the mind and heart in characters too strong not to be applied. THE NATIONAL LITERATURE. 15 and too deep for obliteration. It is said of the teacliing of the ancient philosophers, that their doctrines exerted less influence over their disciples than their conversa- tions, and their conversations less than their personal example. Such being the important and pervading uses of history, it may not be a subject devoid of interest or entertainment, for us to glance at the feeble rays of its morning, as they dawned in a doubtful tvviliglit. For after all, the benefits of history very much depend upon the ability and fidelity of tlie historian. If his execution be lame or inadequate ; if, under the color of truth and impartiality, he present us with fiction or the narrative of a partisan, the dignity of his calling is at an end, his function is degraded, and we are ca- joled into the reception of an empty and delusive name. The historical knowledge of the father of history was extremely imperfect. He depended perhaps less upon books to which little credit was accorded, than upon actual observation and personal discovery. He tells us that Europe is longer than Asia and Africa united, and his descriptions of ji^ople are often quite as poetical as the fabulous accounts of the poels. He represents the highest pinnacles of Atlas in Africa, as wrapped in everlasting clouds, and as forming the pillars of heaven. His amusing descriptions of people with horses' heads, and others without heads at ail, partake rather of fable than chronicle. The ancient poetry of Greece conjured up an ideal race, the Hyperboreans, whom it originally placed be- 16 HISTORY A BRANCH OF hind the celebrated and demi-barbarous range, called the Riphsean Mountains. In this sequestered spot, which was placed in the recesses of the North, are de- scribed a people sheltered by vast mountains from the rage of the elements, exempted from the disturbances of passion and the inroads of care, and exposed to no ill resulting from climate, disease, or death. Even Pliny finds the Hyperboreans, inhabiting the spot assigned to them by Grecian poetry, screened from every in- clement blast, and leading a happy life, exempt from grief, discord, sickness, old age, and mortality. Un- happily, however, he breaks the lovely picture which he had painted of human felicity, by informing us that the blest inhabitants of this region, satiated with enjoyment, at length throw themselves from a rock into the sea ! But their seat, from being originally at the foot of the Riphrean Mountains, was successively transferred by these poetical geographers and histo- rians to the banks of the Danube, thence westward, and finally to the northern extremity of Asiatic Russia ! But fable has not been confined to the ancient world. As if no region should be exempt from the intermixture of fiction with its early history, even our own country, our own Pennsylvania, has had its share. Campauius Holm, in his description of Nav S?reden, which was the name of Pennsylvania before the arrival of the Enghsh colonists, gives most amusing narrations of the country and its productions. This book deals in a romance as extravagant as the wonder- ful stunes of poetical antiquity. He describes, as THE NATIONAL LITERATURE. If swimming in the streams of Pennsylvania, fishes without heads, and the manetto fish, that spouts up water Hke a whale. He finds sea spiders as large as tortoises, and in our own woods he encounters two very different sorts of animated existence — the night- ingale and the lion ! He describes a prophetic grass, the spontaneous growth of the soil, by means of which a sick person can learn whether he will die or recover; and tells us that the country is inhabited with Indians black and vv'hite ! These, and many other mon- strosities, are related with all the gravity of veritable narrative. In the early ages of the world, the song of min- strelsy preserved or revived the memory of unusual and fanciful occurrences. When tradition was dim and indistinct, or the incident could be magnified by circumstances of wonder, the bard of the day would describe it according to the impressions made upon his poetic imagination. The flowers of fiction would delight a group of admiring auditors, who, listening to the song of warlike triumph, or of miraculous escape, would drink in those metaphors by which the bard knows how to entrance the feelings of an imaginative people. — But the recitals of Herodotus produced an effect which seldom falls within the power of the orator or the poet. The simple pathos of his descrip- tion drew tears from assembled Greece, and his nine books received the names of the Muses. But although a great improvement was made from the uncertainty of oral tradition, and the beautiful but exaggerated representations of bards and minstrels, yet the life and 3 18 HI.STI1RY A BRANCH OF soul of lustory were still nowhere to be seen. It was for later days — for a Livy and a Tacitus — to present the features of the periods they have selected, in a comprehensiveness and detail more consonant to the duty of the historian. But it will be seen perhaps, before I conclude, that it was reserved for an age sub- sequent to theirs, and for another covintry, to carry out to their legitimate extent the real objects and ulti- mate design of historic composition. Tradition may preserve the memory of the event- ful past, and the glory or the shame of ancestry. The bard, whether in the liumble form of minstrelsy and ballad, or in the soul-stirring and more elevated strains of epic poetry, may perpetuate the traditionary story, and, subjecting it to the crucible of his fervid and patriotic imagination, transmute what is only unusual and striking, into the wonderful and marvellous. Tradition had preserved the Trojan war, and the consequent dispersion of the vanquished chiefs. Min- strelsy had fed the fire of patriotic pride by recount- ing the conquest. And Homer only completed a pic- ture, whose faint outlines had been shadowed forth by the tale-teller and the minstrel. But the bard may not only illustrate the character of a people, but, by the power of his verse, inspire new impulses, and give a new complexion to the dis- positions of a nation. He thus becomes a historical personage himself, and such a part of the age, that no delineation of it is complete without him. Among the ancients, he travelled from place to place, singling out some incident of individual greatness or national THK NATIONAL I.ITKR ATL'R K. 19 glory for poetical commemoration. In the middle ages of Europe, he kept alive the memory of illus- trious deeds, and excited in the people the sentiments of martial enterprise and patriotic devotion. Such was the influence which the bards exercised over an ardent people, both by their services and their genius, that they enjoyed the homage of great personal considera- tion, and social immunities. Alfred, in the disguise of a harper, could gain admission into the Danish camp, and the bai'd Blondel, by his ingenuity, sought out the concealment of Richard the First, and restored the captive monarch to liberty. The edict proclaimed by Edward the First, after his conquest of Wales, that all the bards of that country should be put to death, not only argues his own cruelty, but displays the importance ascribed to the class. He knew that his conquests could not be retained in a country where tbe spirit of independence was kept alive by those martial and patriotic songs, which celebrated the ex- ploits of their fathers, and the immemorial freedom of their fatherland. The poems of Ossian, handed down to us from the antiquity of a remote age, and little' impaired by the many generations through which they have passed, only show the sacred value which was attached to these effusions, and the fidelity with which they are preserved. Though the departments of the bard and the his- torian are essentially different, and excellence in each depends upon opposite qualities, yet poetry may pre- serve many lineaments of an age, for which we would search elsewhere in vain. Genius is not always con- 20 HISTORY A BRANCH OF trolled by the transactions or the eras of history. It goes beyond the bounds of actual existence, and creates a world of its own. Shakspeare, to whose mighty power all history was made subservient, compressed ages into hours. Dr. Johnson has alike felicitously and poetically said, " Existence saw him spurn her bounded reign, And panting time toiled after him in vain." But with all these inaccuracies, the dramas of the great bard present to us many a portrait of admirable fidelity, and unfold many a secret motive which are nowhere to be found in the pages of regular narrative. Sir Walter Scott has given to us, in the form of fic- titious compositions, some of the fine.st truths of his- tory, and those portions of it too, which are least accessible to the ordinary inquirer. He has redeemed it from the imputation of a dry and unattractive study, and taught mankind to value those portions of Scot- tish story, which are less observed, because apparently of less importance. * But it is not to the poet, the dramatist, or the romance writer, that the historian chiefly looks for his materials. He must patiently explore the narratives of the annalist, and treasure the personal descriptions of the memoir-writer and the biographer. The dry de- tails of the one are not more useful to his purpose, than the traits of character and incident are of the other. They not only relieve the tedious succession of unin- teresting events, but they subserve, in an eminent degree, the objects he has in view. The character of THE NATIONAL LITERATURE. 21 a people may be exhibited in an anecdote ; — the rela- tion of personal adventure may present, in miniature, the characteristic features of an age. While the ob- jects of biography are different from those of history, the character of the man, or an incident of his life, may illustrate the story of his times. It would be wrong, for example, to suppose that the voluntary return of Regulus to Carthage, when he knew the tortures that awaited him there, was owing to the peculiar and obstinate temperament of the man. It was the proud and stubborn virtue of the Roman of that age, which neither the ties of nature, the entreaties of friends, nor the terror of protracted and ingenious suffering could overcome. The noble conduct of the Lady Catherine Douglas, on the occasion of the assassination of James the First of Scotland, presents a memorable instance of female valor and heroic loyalty. It is a proof of the effects which times of violence produce upon character, and of the enthusiastic attachment which the virtues of a orreat monarch are capable of inspiring, even in the hearts of the young and beautiful. The murderers of James found him in a Dominican Convent, without his body guard. The staple of the door having been removed so as readily to admit the ingress of the con- spirators, the Lady Douglas discovered the fatal open- ing. She immediately thrust her arm into the staple to oppose their admission. But what resistance could the slender arm of a delicate woman, oppose to a nu- merous band of desperate assassins? They burst open the door, shattering in pieces the fragile arm 22 HISTORY A BRANCH OK which was so generously interposed for the safety of her sovereign, and rushed over her fallen body, sword in hand, upon the king. A manly resistance was all he could oppose to superiority of numbers, aided by desperation of purpose. He fell under the repeated strokes of his assailants. An instance of a different kind, exhibiting remark- able address, in a female, occurred in our own coun- try, during the war of the American Revolution. It may be cited as characteristic of that memorable pe- riod, and of the ingenuity and boldness inspired by a sense of danger, and an engrossing sentiment of pa- triotism. In the language of Addison's Cato, " Virtues wbich shun the day, and lie concealed In the smooth season and the calms of life/' prove themselves in the stormy times of emergency and peril. The magnitude of the stake, evolves those dor- mant faculties whiofc show the native powers of the soul. — General Greene was anxious to send a mes- senger to General Sumter, (who was at some distance on the Wataree,) to join him in an attack on Lord Rawdon. The difficulty was to iind a man who was bold enough to engage in the enterprise. The inter- mediate country was full of peril to the traveller on such a mission. At length a young girl, named Emily Geiger, proposed to carry the letter and mes- sage to Sumter. A letter was written and the con- tents communicated to her. Mounted on hor.seback in the direction of Sumter's camp, she was over- taken on the second day of her journey, by the scouts THE NATIONAL LlTERATURfc;. 23 of Rawdon. The English officer, from a spirit of gal- lantry, declined to search her at the time of the cap- ture, but having placed her in a private apartment, he sent for an old Tory matron to make the proper in- vestigation. No sooner was the rebel maiden alone, than she withdrevi^ her letter from its hiding-place, and ate it up, piece by piece. When the matron ar- rived, all evidence of the girl's errand being destroyed, she was restored to liberty; and, pursuing her journey by a circuitous route, she arrived at Sumter's camp, and communicated the secret of her expedition. — The daring intrepidity with which this young American maiden braved the perils of a wilderness, peopled by rude soldiers and remorseless savages ; the presence of mind she displayed in the pressing moment of trial; the resumption of her journey and its final accomplish- ment, only embody a sentiment and spirit by no means confined to the breast of Emily Geiger, but participated in by thousands of her fair fellow-country- women, in that hour of danger. We are not to be led, on the other hand, too hastily into the supposition that a striking trait, or an insu- lated example of commanding goodness or atrocious criminality, elucidates the prevailing dispositions of a period, a sect, or a country When Catharine de Medicis persuaded Charles IX. to murder the Hugue- nots of France, we must attribute it to the dictates of individual cruelty, rather than to the prevalence of a sympathetic feeling among his subjects. The horrible massacre of St. Bartholomew was intended to be uni- versal over the nation. Orders were issued for this 24 HISTORY A BRANCH OF purpose to the Catholic governors of the several pro- vinces ; but these bloody mandates did not meet with a passive obedience. Many of the governors refused to comply. The Viscount d'Orthe, instead of obeying the order, had the courage to write to his majesty, that there were many good soldiers in his garrison, but not one executioner. One of the governors used, in reply to this infamous command, the following remarkable language : " Sire, I have too much reverence for your majesty not to persuade myself that the order I have received, must be forged; but if (which Heaven for- bid,) it should really be the order of your majesty, I have too much respect for the personal character of my sovereign, to obey it." But the historian, though he avails himself of the labors of the annalist, and the incidents of the bio- grapher, has higher duties to perform than either. "What seems merely curious in itself, or preserved in a private cabinet, as a family treasure ; what is accu- mulated among the confused medley of MSS. in a Historical Society, are the great objects of his pursuit and investigation. That which upon a superficial view looks disjointed and separate, having no connec- tion with the regular chain of historical events, per- haps may contain in itself the uniting link of a mass of fragments. It is the province of the historian to relate the events, depict the manners, and exhibit the spirit of the age. All that may prove auxiliary to his design, must be explored with patience and assiduity. He is to admit of no secondary evidence upon subjects which THE NATIONAL LITERATURE. 25 are susceptible of higher verification. He cannot re- peat what he finds printed in books, however respect- able their character, without referring to original sources of light. Even among original documents, he must collate the different versions, which the acci- dental inaccuracies of cotemporary pens, or the wil- ful perversions which party spirit may have intro- duced, for the distortion or suppression of truth. The annahst may amuse, the poet may delight, and the orator may astonish ; the musician, the painter, and the sculptor may contribute to embellish the age which they refine ; but it is the historian who delin- eates their general effect, and exhibits the real impress which they make upon the society around them. Revolutions may uproot, and wnr spread carnage and " cry havoc," but the Genius of History must preside with a steady and collected eye over the troubled and turbulent scene. But with abundant materials before him, the histo- rian is sometimes found to be engulfed in error ; and whether owing to his authorities, or the medium through which they are viewed, the results are some- times the same. Such is the imperfection of human nature or the voluntary perversity of the human mind, that the phantom of error is sometimes found to pre- side at \h.e fountain, and to pollute the stream through its whole course. It is then the nice province of the historian to refine the waters of their impurity. But sometimes the original sources of knowledge are of indisputable verity ; but the mind of the explorer has received a tinge of prejudice, or its powers of i)hiloso- 4 26 HISTORY A BRANCH OF phy lie prostrate at the slirine of party spirit. Inat- tention or laziness, inadequate inquiry or accidental misapprehension, may lend their influences to pervert facts, misjudge motives, and discolor character. From one or other of these, and sometimes from the com- bined force of their union, it happens that the face of history may be veiled in doubt and clouded with un- certainty. Well might Lord Orford exclaim, after dwelling upon the sad evidences which his own expe- rience and studies had suggested : " Oh, read me not history, for that. I kno7V to be false !" In despair that he could not produce an authentic narrative, the clear- sighted and philosophical Raleigh, it is said, com- mitted the manuscript of his great historical work to the flames, when he heard the contradictory accounts of eye-witnesses to a fact, which occurred in the vicinity of his prison. Other causes combine to interfere with the integrity of history. A blind and uninformed love of home ; an education, which, by infusing narrow and sectional principles, weds the citizen to the follies of his fore- fathers, and consecrates to him that scheme of policy, which, among another people, he would be the first to condemn. The feelings of home, and country, and kindred, disturb the mental equilibrium, and are enemies to that elevated cosmopolitan philosophy which it is the duty of the historian to cultivate. — The lofty spirit of the English nation, the pride of a Saxon ancestry, — as remarkable for bravery as for independence, — has perpetuated a dispute about the meaning of a single THE NATIONAL LITERATURE. 27 word, employed in connection with a transaction whicli happened eight hundred years ago. The sturdy Nor- mans, who accompanied WiUiam to England in the 11th century, and assisted in the overthrow of the English army, at the battle of Hastings, called him a conqueror ; but the indomitable pride of the Saxon race cannot brook the idea of conquest, and define the term to mean, in the Norman law, merely an acqidsi- tion. This controversy, devoid of all practical interest at the present time, is often revived, and promises to furnish topics for the ingenuity, and food for the pas- sions, of many succeeding ages. Another form of this same spirit is exhibited in an attempt, which has been recently made, to deprive Columbus of that honor, so justly his due, of giving birth to a new world. The Society of Northern Antiquaries, at Copenhagen, have, with true anti- quarian zeal, brought out of their archives, covered with the thick dust of ages, a body of Icelandic ma- nuscripts, which prove that some early voyagers had, at a period antecedent to the age of Columbus, found their way to the northern shores of tliis continent. A Runic stone has been discovered on the western coast of Greenland, bearing an inscription, dated in the 12th century. They have established the sterile fact, that, without object or design, except gain, these navigators landed upon our coast, being probably dri- ven thither by the force of the elements, which they had neither the skill nor the science to resist. But what is the object of all this ? It is said to be in aid of historical knowledge; and it is so, in bringing to 28 HISTORY A BRANCH OF light a fact which had lain buried for centuries, in the dark obscurity of the Scandinavian archives. But is not the question in truth now made to despoil Spain of her vestment of glory, for the purpose oi present- ing it to Denmark^ Such an attempt to disinter the long-buried memories of rude seamen, the fit compa- nions only of a rude age, reminds one of Cowper's in- dignant exclamation: — " Oh fond attempt to give a deathless lot To names ignoble, born to be forgot." It must be admitted that the ambition of national fame is the spur which has excited into so much activity and perseverance these pains-taking spirits of the north. But, while we applaud their zeal, and admire the monument which tlieir patient labor and patriotic enthusiasm have enabled them to erect, we cannot acquiesce in their deductions. The discovery of these navigators, if such it may be called, was dead and unproductive in its effects. They could not perhaps have pointed or led the way to the scene of their dis- covery; — while that of Columbus, who had no know- ledge of their exploit, or, if he had, who could not profit by their imperfect account, was the light-house which guided subsequent adventurers, and was the epoch at which began all the astonishing results which have followed. It cannot be denied that the vain-glory which has proved so inimical to historical truth, in other lands, has not been without its influence in this country. With less reason than other nations for controverted THE NATIONAL LITERATURE. 29 points in their early history, the influences of sectional feeling and party prejudice have introduced many. The dark night of traditionary ignorance was past, when our ancestors buffeted the waves of the wide Atlantic, to fix their residence amid the fearful soli- tudes of the western wilderness. They were men who knew the value of permanent records, and com- mitted their actions, and the principles of their policy, to writing. But why is it that the characters, and even the acts, of the early Quakers of Pennsylvania, and the Puritans of New England, are, at this day, matters of doubt, or controversy ? Not, certainly, for want of clear and indubitable documentary evidence, but from the mist of prejudice through which they are viewed. The plain narrative is honest, and im- possible to be mistaken; but glosses and explanations are interposed, to disguise the truth, or intercept its impression. We hear abundant praise assigned to Pennsylvania for her steady faith and constant benevolence to the Indian, and yet 7vhere, among the thousand hills and valleys of the State, are we to look for that numerous, valiant, and generous race who once roamed the happy and undisputed masters of the very spot on which we stand? They are gone, — either fled or murdered! — either leaving their unburied bones to whiten the plains, a memorial to heaven of their wrongs, or leav- ing their execrations with those western tribes to which they have escaped for security ! Explain it as we may, we stand convicted upon the historian's page of perfidy and violence, of heartless encroach- 30 HISTORY A BRANCH OF ment and plain injustice. To mention nothing else, the walking purchase of 1737, and the subsequent massacre at Lancaster, tarnish the fair fame of Penn- sylvania benevolence. No; the praise which is awarded to Pennsylvania must be confined to that portion of her history which expired at the death of William Penn, whose policy towards these injured people was characterized by invariable kindness, sin- cere friendship, and munificent generosity. To the pilgrims who landed on the rock of Ply- mouth, is attributed nearly every virtue under heaven. A public writer, among their descendants of the pre- sent day, would perhaps endanger his reputation, if, at an anniversary celebration, he pronounced aught respecting them but extravagant eulogy. And yet history has recorded what cannot be gainsayed, that respectable as were most in rigid morality and culti- vated intellect, zealous as they were in the cause of education and attentive to the orthodoxy of the Christ- ian church, their lives present little that we can love, their piety little that is attractive. Their religion being so mingled with their politics as to be insepara- ble, became bigoted, selfish, and exclusive. It sought out objects of vengeance in the infidel Indian and the heretical Baptist and Quaker; and while it retaliated upon the one, with ingenious refinements, all the hor- rors of savage warfare, it looked to banishment and the gibbet as the only true modes of reforming the pertinacious errors of the others. But I refer to the fact merely to show how difficult it is to winnow the truth out of error when the most favorable cir- THE NATIONAL LITERATURE. 31 cumstances exist — but for the bias of education and locality — for its complete and unalloyed development. It is one of the most difficult tasks of the historian, anxious to display the truth, to resist the sinister in- fluences of that blind and undistinguishing veneration for domestic institutions, which requires him to tell the tale of history in such a manner, as to quadrate with ill-informed preconception, early prejudice, or imperfect inquiry. But no man is fitted for so exalted an undertaking, who cannot, regardless of the bicker- ings of party spirit, and the folly of sectional predi- lection, enter into the intellectual heart of the nation; live with the people and the age of which he treats; and portray, with the fidelity of the painter, without his embellishments, every line of its moral counte- nance. The elevation of his studies, if pursued in obe- dience to the impulses of a liberal and cultivated mind, will raise him above the groveling mists of place and party to a purer atmosphere and a loftier region. But the duty of the historian, in the execution of his task, is yet to be considered. Is it to represent merely the political acts of a nation, the lives of its rulers, and the wars in which they happen to be en- gaged? "What beside these is done in most of the chronicles that are written? One would suppo.se, in reading the most celebrated historians of ancient or modern times, that the whole community were intent upon the political regulation of their atfairs; in dwell- ing upon the virtues or the vices of their sovereigns ; or in contending with their enemies in the field of battle. The descriptions of conflicts and sieges are 32 HISTORY A DKANCH OF drawn out with such prolixity of detail as to allow little space for the practical lessons of private and so- cial virtue. The heroism of antiquity has sunk deep into the breast of the classical student. He revels in the reci- tals of blood and carnage. He reads them with avidity. He awaits with breathless impatience the fearful strug- gle. He figures to himself the daring of the onset, and hears the clang of weapons as the armies join in combat. This taste for military prowess, this admi- ration of military glory, has been ministered to from the time of Homer to that of Walter Scott, whose high-wrought pictures of the battle-field can never be forgotten by those who have pored over his bewitch- ing page. The historian caters for an universal appe- tite, when he follows his hero, with fond enthusiasm, from battle to battle, and exhibits him as a spectacle worthy of all admiration, in his garments rolled in blood. The opinions, no less than \.he practice of mankind, upon the subject of jvar, have been undergoing a gradual but progressive change. Its sanguinary and abhorrent features, — its want of all recommendation upon the score of reason or expediency, — have made good as well as wise men feelingly re-echo the elo- quent invocation of the great bard, " Oh irar, thou son of hell ! Whom aiujry heavens Jo make their minister." The historian, may now be called upon to cele- brate less the murderous exploits of some rude chief- THE NATIONAL LITERATURK. 33 tain or ambitious potentate, than the noiseless tri- umphs of moral science, the progress of mind, and the achievements of philanthropy. Decorate these with the gems of eloquence, and canonize them with poetry, and they will possess charms quite as attract- ive and exciting as the dazzling, but false glare which invests the arts of human slaughter. In another aspect, time has altered the objects and enlarged the province of history. Frederick of Prussia called the union of numbers, philosophy. It required an alliance of kings to protect their authority from the aspiring ambition and mighty genius of Bonaparte. Out of that philosophy have sprung new duties, which the historian of this country cannot but know and ap- preciate. His function is less to exhibit the lives of rulers or statesmen, than the essence or concentrated spirit of their times. The numerous instances of pri- vate, and even obscure virtue which every nation pre- sents, in the retired walks of its society, speak to that countless multitude of readers who do not aspire to be either rulers or statesmen. A mere regal biography will not satisfy the wants of mankind. The page of history must reflect a more perfect image of the mind and genius of the nation at large. It is a natural inquiry in this connection, whether any writer has arisen, who fills up the idea which is here presented, of the duty of the historian. Having referred to a few of the numerous controverted points in history, I will now speak of the imperfections of particular authors, and of those whose pages illus- trate the objects and province of the historian. 34 IIISTHKY A URANCII (iK Of the many popular works which abound, per- haps the mistakes of Hume are as much to be de- plored as those of any other writer in the language. With a spirit of philosopliical investigation, he com- bines acuteness in the examination of historical evi- dence, and a felicity of style above all praise. But a vein of infidelity runs through his page, which im- pairs its usefulness and mars its beauty. It is some- where related, that his reign of Elizabeth was origi- nally written in consonance with what he believed to be the truth, but being admonished by his publisher, it was suppressed, and the life which appears in his history was substituted. A similar train of remark is suggested in regard to Gibbon, the classical splendor of whose diction is a poor succedaneum for the want of Cliristian faith, and tlie perversion of the accumu- lated evidences within his reach, of the divine cha- racter of its author. The names of Robertson, Mack- intosh, and Ilallam, are associated with all that is profound in erudition, faithful in narrative, and beau- tiful in performance. But they deal so exclusively with the transactions of states and kingdoms, that we almost forget that private persons played any part in the great drama of society. Event succeeds event with the solemnity of a dead march, and the actors are brought before us with such stateliness of tread as to remind one of a dance of the dead. Different from these, and possessing, in a higher de- gree, the shining qualities of its predecessors, is the popular history, only partially finished, of Thomas Babington Macauluy. As a historian, he too often THE NATIONAL LITERATURE. 35 sacrifices fidelity at the shrine of antithesis, and jus- tice on the altar of epigram. Delighting in striking attitudes, in strong contrasts, and in vivid coloring, he overlooks the possibility that any other than an ex- treme view will satisfy the rigor of historical justice. The grand doctrine, the fundamental and pervading spirit of his history is unfolded in a single sentence at the beginning. "I shall recount," says he, " the errors which in a few months alienated a loyal gentry and priesthood from the house of Stuart." The loyal gentry of the historian comprised that portion of England which the Barons in arms represented against King John, when, as valiant champions for the rights of their order, they wrested from the monarch the Magna Charta ; — a document which enlarged upon all kinds of liberties but popular rights, those rights which immediately interested the great body of the people of England. Upon these, that celebrated state paper, the palladium, so-called, of English liberties, was silent. — Every curtailment of royalty is not an accession to popular privileges. If the monarch be disrobed of any of his regalia, it is less the people than the nobles who are enriched with the spoils. — In the genuine spirit of the Barons of Runnyinede, Mr. Ma- caulay is as jealous of the prerogative and even of the office of a king, as he is inimical to the ascendency of the popular voice. Intent only upon the conse- quence of the nobility, the gentry, and the opulent classes of commoners, he is supercilious towards the working classes of the community, whose rising con- dition ho watches with alarm, and would check with 36 HISTORY A BRANCH OF insolence. He seems to have imbibed and adopted the contemptuous sentiment of the great poet: — " Wliat the people but a herd confused, A miscellaneous rabble, who extol Things vulgar" — * * * " Of whom to be dispraised, wore no small praise."* To these preferences of taste, to these peculiarities of opinion, we owe, in large measure, the instances which lie scattered over his pages, of distorted facts, erroneous conclusions, exaggerated description, and personal injustice. — The caustic opponent of civil de- spotism in Charles the First, he is the ingenious and adroit apologist of military despotism in Cromwell. He seems to admire in the Protector, those traits which he detests and brands with infamy in the king. If the Stuart was insincere and hypocritical, was not Cromwell also a deceiver and dissembler? If Charles levied money unconstitutionally for the national de- fence, did not Oliver raise al:)undant supplies at tlic point of the bay 07iet ^ If the king inflicted injustice upon his subjects, what was the amount of property taken by Cromwell from the long catalogue of twenty- six hundred and fifty plundered royalists? Without a motive to veil the defects, or magnify the greatness of either of these memorable names in history, I ex- * Vide Third Book of Milton's Paradise Regained. As this language is put into the mouth of our Saviour in his controversy with Satan, we may presume that it expresses the real sentiments of Mil- ton. Opposition to the king, among the men of the Commonwealth, did not necessarily imply a sympathy with and preference for the people. THE NATIONAL LITERATURE. 37 hibit at once the injustice of tlie historian, by the sum- mary statement of an impartial account between them. The Protector's alUances with the nobihty awaken in the historian all the affinities of party, and kindle in him a glow of admiration, as warm as it is blind and undistinguishing. This aristocratic tendency, this opposition to popular rights, is observable throughout the history. The writer admires the wealth, elegance, and luxury of the present day, and conceals, under a decept- ive mantle, the various forms of its wickedness and folly. He extols it above a more simple age, in which less misery and crime existed among the lower classes, and less vice and effeminacy in the higher. — No un- prejudiced and clear-minded historian would praise that system of affairs, which, for years, has been driv- ing away the small tenantry of England, and concen- trating real property in tiie hands of a few. The De- serted Village of the plaintive Goldsmith, is no imagi- nary picture of the evils which it so touchingly de- plores. The small and happy landholders have nearly disappeared. Their places are occupied by estates stretching miles in extent, the abodes of luxury and splendor surpassing those of oriental princes. Among the millions of English husbandmen who cultivate the soil, the whole number o{ freeholders has been reduced by this depopulating waste to about thirty-five thou- sand. These seats of magnificence are protected by law in the hands of their lordly possessors, against tlie demands, the plaints, and the writs of creditors. No unprejudiced and clear-sighted historian would 38 HISTORY A BRANCH OF praise the spirit of distant war, when its noblest con- quests are purchased at the price of splendid misery at home and of unpitying desolation abroad. The na- tional debt has been incurred and expended chiefly in war. The interest on this enormous charge, and the extravagance in all the departments of government, render necessary an annual taxation, the aggregate of wliich would not only pay the interest, but the prin- cipal of the debt of Pennsylvariia, ten times over. It would almost suffocate a prudent Englishman who calmly fixes his eye on the future, to name the enormous burden of eight hundred millions of pounds sterling, as the national debt of his country. All the coin of the world, if collected together in the vaults of the exchequer, would be insufficient to pay it. Her annual obhgations amount to thirty millions of interest and fifty millions of ordinary expenditure. The vast re- sources of the empire are drained and found unequal to these ruinous burdens. National bankruptcy is post- poned or prevented by adding to the principal debt* Is it wisdom or prudence then to pander to the spirit of war abroad, or to minister to an expensive and magnificent oligarchy at home? Is it wise or prudent to .startle the judgment of the country with the paradox, that a national debt is a national blessing? A bless- ing which mortgages or encumbers every item of an Englishman's property, wastes his income, and de- prives him of his wages. Like the ble.s.sing of origi- nal sin, it is bequeathed to a man with his existence, * Vide j\.ppeui.li.\, note 1. THE NATIONAL LITERATURE. 39 it attaches at his birth, it makes him a debtor and dehnquent in his cradle.* No unprejudiced and clear-minded historian will join the chorus of interested demagogues, in chanting the praises of "merry England" and "happy land," because one side of the national picture certainly pre- sents humanity in its most attractive and beautiful forms, and exhibits the combined wonders of art and nature, embellished to the highest point of ima- gined perfection. English philanthropy may observe, through a benevolent telescope, the hand of oppression and the abuses of law, in distant regions. But in looking over the world, it may not be able to descry an abuse or an evil, which, to some extent, does not exist unredressed in its own. It has been aptly observed of England, that on one side she displays the glitter of Aladdin's palace, and on the other reveals the horrors of Ugolino's temple of famine. The starving masses in Ireland ; the abuses in the manufacturing aiad mining districts, in England ; the ignorance, wretchedness, and immoral- ity, in both, seem to be either unworthy of notice or invisible to the historian. His prejudice veils, or his prismatic fancy discolors, this side of the national por- trait. While in England the income tax shows pro- perty yielding two hundred millions of pounds ster- ling a year, the poor-law returns establish the fact, that one-seventh of the entire population of the two kingdoms subsist upon public charity. Though mil- * Vide Appendix, note "2. 40 llISTORy A BRANCH OK lions were raised in Parliament and the United States, in 1847, to relieve the necessities of the Irish, two hundred and fifty thousand persons perished by star- vation, and as many more were driven, by the anti- cipated horrors of a similar fate, into exile. Such is the extremity of distress in that unhappy island, that famished survivors are known to devour the bodies of their deceased companions and friends, who liave fallen victims to famine or despair. If, instead of the partiality of a whig declaiming against the tories and radicals, Mr. Macaulay had written, with his own great power, a sober and philo- sophical history of England ; if he had treated his topics with the judicial and unimpassioned spirit of the bench rather than ^vith the logic of a champion at the bar, future generations would regard his sparkling volumes as the richest legacy of the present age. If, instead of presenting to us the glitter of nobility, he had blazoned the homelier virtues of the people; if he had dragged to light the abuses which prevent their exaltation ; if he had shown that extreme poverty in the many, must co-exist with extreme private wealth and luxury in the few ; if he had, in honest straight- forwardness, avowed that thousands never hear the name of God, but in profanity ; that millions habitually neglect the divine services of the Sabbath; he would have reached the ear and thrilled the heart of Britain; he would have inscribed iiis name in blazing characters of light upon one of the pillars of that temple, which a nation's gratitude erects to the undying memory of its benefactors. It better suited his genius to expa- THE NATIONAL LITERATUKb;. 41 tiate on the glories of a revolution wliich secured a peaceful dominion and a submissive people, and to diversify the interest of his eloquent pages by drag- ging into notoriety or fame those whom posterity have long since forgotten or condemned, and of arraigning, under the blackest imputations, some of the fairest and proudest historical names of England. The ashes of smouldering or extinguished fires have been raked up, and the buried griefs of centuries have ap- peared within the pale glimpses of the moon, galvan- ized into the hue and semblance of a renewed exist- ence. But let me pass to other authors. Though not properly a historian, I cannot omit the name of Washington Irving, as one that must ever be pronounced by an American with mingled sensations of pride and delight. That honored name is inter- woven with the literary, legendary, and biographical glories of our land. Not content with hallowing; a thousand spots in the great State of his birth, and in the country of his ancestors, he has, by the witchery of his classic wand, deepened the shadowy interest of the Spanish legend, and surrounded, by the power of his magic pencil, the memory of Columbus with bays of a richer tint and a brighter verdure. Without de- tracting from the excellence of any portion of his various writings, I may point you to this biography as a historical work of such sterling and enduring value, that, if the long catalogue of his other labors were blotted out of existence, it alone would secure to him an immortality of literary fame. But let me hasten to Bancroft and Prescott. 42 HISTORY A URANLH OF Mr. Bancroft has produced a history of the United Slates, so far as it has advanced, of high desert, for copious and elegant diction, competent learning, and considerable fidelit}'. It could scarcely be expected that a work Mhich embraces so many tlelicate topics, should in all its details be free from defect; but as it stands, it must be admitted to be a proud monument, not only of his own genius, but that of his country. Of Prescott, it may not be easy to speak towards the close of this address, in terms which his high merits deserve. In the history of Ferdinand and Isa- bella, especially, the reader will see exemplified many of the duties which a historian of the present age assumes. The fulness of his information and the elo- quent style in which it is embodied, leave us at a loss which mo.st to admire, — the splendor of the subject, or the felicity of its execution. It is that epoch of Eu- rope, when, rather than in that of Charles the Fifth, as supposed by Robertson, the light of civilization had dawned, and events were begun to be developed, whose impression upon the condition of mankind was to be not transient, but permanent. It was the age when the different provinces of Spain were united under a single rule; — it was the age when the Moors were driven out of Granada, which they had rendered the seat of elegance and luxury for seven centuries ; and it was the age when Columbus, under the au- spices of Isabella, prosecuted to completion his im- mortal enterprise. It was the age, too, of Ximenes, tlie greatest statesman, and of Gonsalvo, the great- est captain of modern times; — but as if no great good THE NATIONAL LITEIIATI'UK. 43 can exist in human affairs, without its correlative and accompanying evil, it was the age of that terrific in- strument of oppression and cruelty, the Spanish In- quisition ; and the age of the expatriation of the devoted Jew. With a subject as vast as it is attract- ive and splendid, Prescott had to search in foreign languages, and amid forgotten and contradictory au- thorities, for his materials. And, as if to convince him of the fatuity of his attempt, his sight became affected before he had advanced far into his undertak- ing; and he at length became totally blind. Dr. Johnson, in his life of Milton, refers to the hopeless- ness of an attempt to compile a history, from various authors, with the aid of other eyes than one's own. It was the unhappy fate of Prescott to encounter such an obstacle. It was his superior and re.solute genius which enabled him to overcome it. The student of Ferdinand and Isabella, after following the historian into camps and courts, among the bards and prose writers of that prolific period, and into the reces.ses of Spanish society, having closed his book, will wonder at the accomplishment of so stupendous a labor, and under circumstances so well' calculated to fill the stoutest heart with dismay. He will picture the au- thor who has contributed so much to his instruction and delight, as sitting, day after day, in the solitude of his study, groping his tedious way, with imperfect aid, among a mass of huge MSS. and unheard-of tomes, — listening with strained ear to catch the un- couth sounds of an obsolete Spanish phraseology, and through many a weary hour, striving in vain to ascer- 44 HISTORY A BRANCH OF tain the meaning of tlie author; — now abandoning his task in despair, and then renewing it with increased alacrity and vigor. But Prescott has shown himself to be no ordinary man. He persevered to the end ; and though it required a time equal in duration to the Tro- jan war, — a period oiten years, — to finish his work, yet he did finish it, with imperishable renown to himself, and honor to his country. It is not the idle language of eulogy or vain-glory, to say, that the names of Hume and Robertson have not reflected more lustre upon the historical literature of England, than will those of Bancroft and Prescott upon that of America ! When we consider, gentlemen, the career of this country, the instructive lessons which its annals un- fold, the light which it sheds upon the philosophy of human nature, and the aid which it imparts to the concerns of social life, we may well hope for histo- rians worthy of the subject, and of her own fame. May we not hope that, out of this institution, aloof from "the storm's career," and above its power, shall spring writers who will vindicate the faith of history and the majesty of truth, by writing at least a veri- table account of Pennsylvania? Her fortunes and repute are involved in the question of her historian. The moral grandeur of tlie colonial plan has not been developed by Proud, by Gordon, or even by Professor Ebeling of Hamburg, whose noble chro- nicle is suffered to remain in the German language, except the translated fragment of it, by the late Mr. Dn Ponceau The comparative antiquity of your THE NATIONAL LITERATURE. 45 College, and the elegant aims of }'our Society, may justify the hope that this want may be supplied from the alumni of the one, or the fellows of the other. In the history of this State, a new field of philosophy is to be broken and explored, a new department for the moralist is to be evolved and elucidated. Greece and Rome exhibit, in their early stages, only the re- sults of successful valor; and modern Europe, from the earliest dawn of her morning to a period almost coeval with the settlement of this country, discloses throughout her confines, with certain partial excep- tions, a spectacle of barbarism which appealed to no higher principle than the instinct of brute force for all its achievements. In these Academic shades, in the heart of Pennsylvania herself, it will be a grateful employment, to trace the fruits of her maturity to the seeds of her spring-time; to show by what means she so largely contributed to the recognition of those grand ideas which were ascendant at the Revolution, and uppermost at the birth of the Republic and the Constitution. The historian may be told that his task cannot be popular; that no stirring incident, no mighty event, no tragical catastrophe, has disturbed the smooth current of our domestic annals. But let him not be deterred; though the people were happy and peace- ful, their history contains the elements of a diffusive and permanent interest, beyond those of a passing or fugitive splendor. It is an error of almost universal acceptance, which declares that the happiest people present the poorest 46 HISTORY A BRANCH OF annals. Wordsworth has poetically expre.ssed the practice of annalists and historians, when he says, "Times of quiet ami unbroken peace, Though for a nation times of blessedness, Give back faint echoes from the historian's page." It is not surprising that such a sentiment should be received as an axiom, when we consider the import- ance which is assigned in general histories to the march of armies, and the devastations of conquest. But is it the necessary consequence of the happmess of a State, that her annals should be devoid of entertain- ment and instruction? While a subordinate place is given to the arts oi peace, and greater prominence to those of war, the causes of domestic felicity and so- cial advancement must rank, in grandeur, below those prolific sources of individual ruin and national decay, which are to be found amid the mischiefs of ambition, the turbulence of anarchy, or the oppressions of mis- rule. But the attractiveness of the historian's page will be increased, in proportion as moral causes rise in value over the estimate of physical force. In exact proportion as the jj/iilosophi/ of history is studied, the story of a tranf[uil age, and of a virtuous people, will augment in interest and importance. Mankind are too well acquainted with the causes of ruin and mi- sery, that they should not now be taught the more attractive lesson of the means of being happy. I might point, in illustration of these sentiments, to the beautiful career of Maryland, in the age of Lord Baltimore. Though a Catholic, he opened wide the THE NATIONAL LITERATURE. 47 doors of his colony to every Christian sect ; though a member of the English aristocracy, he was the firm and undeviating friend of popular rights ; though opu- lent and powerful, he was quick in the perception, and just in the reward of modest merit; charitable to the Indian, and lenient in his punishment of the trans- gressor. His colony furnishes abundant evidence of his ardent and inextinguishable attachment to the great cause of civil and religious liberty. From the settlement of the province to the year 1654, Mary- land shone as " a bright, particular star" of colonial history, exhibiting a picture of religious freedom and social happiness almost without a parallel in the an- nals of Christian and political philanthropy. The history of Rhode Island presents, in the pecu- liarity of the settlement, in the liberal sentiments of its founders, in the mild government which was estab- lished, in the social peace which reigned, one of the most instructive pages of human annals. It was the singular spectacle of men seeking safety from the reli- gious zeal of their co-religionists, of men ejected from a common asylum, by their stricken partners in exile, their fellow-victims in persecution. Williams and Coddington, in laying the foundations of their import- ant little colony, securely placed the corner-stone of religious freedom over the world. In the principles they diffused and exemplified, they preceded the writ- ings of Locke and Bayle. It is for the pen of impar- tial history, in tracing to their source the elements of religious liberty, to do justice to these early benefactors of their race, and to count each successive champion 48 Hlt^roRV A KRANLH OF that appeared as a new wreath added to the crowning chaplet of their glory. Another example may be cited, which will more fully elucidate the doctrine I would enforce. It is that of provincial Pennsylvania. Her story is destitute of the tclat of military fame ; — she repo.ses her claims to the attention of philosophers, not upon her military, but her moral triumphs. Her Founder was able to show to the world, how peace and tranquillity, tolera- tion and clemency, may be made subservient to the permanent welfare of mankind. He illustrated the practical effects of this grand system, in the continued happiness and undisturbed prosperity of his colony. The treaty of peace and friendship which he concluded with the Indians, beneath the wide-spread branches of the great Elm tree, is the only treaty, says Voltaire, in the history of human affairs, which was never sworn to, and never broken. He and his companions enter, without arm.s, or warlike weapons of any kind, into the midst of a savage band of intrepid and cele- brated warriors; — the hand of friendship is tendered and accepted, and perpetual good-will is mutually plighted. For a period of near Jiftij years which fol- lowed this imposing event, no heart-burning, estrange- ment, injustice, or complaint, was heard from either of the contracting parties. They lived upon terms of the closest neighborhood, and the most unreserved in- timacy. From the settlement of the colony iu 1G82, to 1721, which was three years after the death of Penn, not a drop of Indian or white blood stained the virgin soil of ]-*ennsvlvania THE NATIONAL LITERATURE. 49 was committed by the white inhabitants, in violation of the treaty. Penti's principles of toleration were so broad as to permit the access of all sects of religion to equality of right, and immunity from burden, except such as was common to every colonist. At a time when the Statute Book of England was sanguinary in the extreme, the clemency of his penal laws abolished death in all cases hut murder; and the substituted penalties, though lenient in character, were most effi- cient in the prevention of crime. Here, then, is a nation presenting, for half a century, a happy and peaceful community, whose happiness and peace were owing to the principles of its government. But who will say, when he reflects upon the fruits of those great and everlasting principles, which formed the groundwork of the colonial edifice, the animating spirit of the social union, that such annals are jjoor? They are rich in that moral incident, which lies at the foundation of true philosophy, and which, faithfully exhibited on the historian's page, will convey those impressive lessons to mankind, whose acceptation will one day be as universal as their truth is indestructi- ble and eternal! These form only a few of the sublime ideas which the American historian will have to engrave upon the heart of society. It is his duty to extract from the example of the illustrious dead of past times, and the experience of other nations, those pregnant hints with which the page of all history is replete, and to trans- mit with these, the spirit and genius of his own, to future generations of mankind. The country will be 7 50 HISTORY A BRANCH OF THE NATIONAL LITERATURE. honored for this spirit of practical philosophy in its historical authors. A deeper and stronger amor patrice. at home, a wider and more permanent repute abroad, will be some of the rich fruits of such a literature. The treasured wisdom of Egypt, of Greece, of Rome, of modern Europe, — not their theoretical maxims, but the proofs and lessons of their history, — may be appro- priated by our people, and made their own. The in- structive annals of England, divested of that glare which dazzles the eye, of that pageantry which be- wilders the understanding of her writers, would thus be traced by the steady hand and vigorous originality of an American pen. Free from hereditary bias, and exempt from the prejudice of party, it may faithfully draw the distinctive merits of her leading authors and statesmen. It would thus, without a feeling to guide it, but filial solicitude and a reverence for truth, disen- gage the philosophy of her history from the mass of empty nothings with which it is overlaid and op- pressed. As the destinies of freedom over the world are interwoven with the fate of this Republic, and as the best political light is that reflected from the past, our writers, in erecting such a system of history, would build the monument of their own fame. APPENDIX Note 1. (Vide p. 38.) Samuel Gurney, a cool and sagacious banker, of London, thus gloomily writes to his friend, Joseph Sturge, under date August 23, 1849, as to the ruinous agency of war in Europe, and the probable issue of the national debt of England. " In round numbers, I presume that not far short of two millions of the inhabitants of Europe, in the prime and strength of their lives, have been abstracted from useful and productive labor, and are made consumers, only, of the good gifts of the Almighty, and of national wealth. The cost of the maintenance of these armies and navies can- not be very much less than two hundred millions of pounds sterling per annum, taking into consideration the subject in all its collateral bearings; at least, it must amount to an enormous sum. Does not this view of the suljject, in a large degree, expose the cause of such masses of poverty, distress, and sin, which at present pervade many of the districts of Europe ? Is not such the legitimate result of so vast a waste of labor, food, and wealth? Moreover, I venture to give it as my decided judgment — a judgment formed upon some knowledge of mone- tary matters, that, unless the nations of Europe adopt an opposite system in this respect, many of them will inevitably become bankrupt, and will have to bear the disgrace and evils of such a catastrophe." * * * " In respect of my ovra country, I more boldly assert that it is my judgment that, unless she wholly alters her course in these respects, bankruptcy will ultimately be the result. We have spent from fifteen to twenty millions sterling per annum for warlike purposes since the peace of 1815. Had that money been applied to the discharge of the National debt, by this time it would have been nearly annihilated : but, if our military 52 APPENDIX. expenditure be persisted in, and no reduction of our national debt take place at a period of our history certainly cbaracterized by very fair prosperity and general political calm, how is it to be expected that the amount of our revenue will bo attained in a time of adversity, which we must from time to time anticipate, in our future history? Should such adversity come upon us, I venture to predict that our revenue will not be maintained, nor the dividends paid, unless more efficient steps be taken to prevent such a catastrophe in these days of prosperity and peace." The London Times, in the course of a long article on the letter, lets drop these significant remarks : — " Mr. S. Gurney has had to do with indebted men and estates. He knows the history of many incumbrances. He has seen the vast mort- gage lying like an incubus on the resources of nature and the energy of man. He has traced the slow but sure drain of a fixed interest paid out of a fluctuating and perhaps a falling revenue. He has watched the debtor struggling for many year.s, and just keeping afloat, till there comes some extraordinary aggravation of his burdens, and then down he goes. * * * Unless the nation pays ofi' its debt while it can, the day will come when it cannot, and when it will find even the interest of that debt too much for its revenue. Within three years we have added twelve millions to our debt, and have Ijarely attained, if we have attained, an equilibrium between our incomings ami our out- goings. At the present moment, therefore, we are at a stand-still, with a debt, the interest of which is about thirty million pounds per annum. But is it reasonable, is it possible to suppose that we can maintain this equilibrium ? Any one of many very probable casualties may compel a sudden increase of expenditui'e, and hurl the state an- other step in the downward course to bankruptcy." Note 2. (Vide p. 39.) The Eev. Sidney Smith, unwise a finan- cier as he proved himself by the sale of his Pennsylvania bonds, under par, has ingeniously grouped together, in his characteristic way, some of the subjects of taxation in England. It is a curious but sad picture to contemplate. "We can inform Jonathan," savs he, ''what are the inpvitalile cnn- APPENDIX. 53 sequences of being too fond of glory : Taxes upon every article which enters into the mouth, or covers the back, or is placed under the foot — taxes upon everything which it is pleasant to see, hear, feel, smell, or taste — taxes upon warmth, light, and locomotion — taxes on everything on earth, and the waters under the earth — on everything that comes from abroad, or is grown at home — taxes on the raw material — taxes on every fresh value that is added to it by the industry of man — taxes on the sauce which pampers man's appetite, and the drug that restores him to health — on the ermine which decorates the judge, and the rope which hangs the criminal — on the poor man's salt, and the rich man's spice — on the brass nails of the coffin, and the ribands of the bride — at bed or board, couehant or levant, we must pay. The schoolboy whips his taxed top — the beardless youth manages his taxed horse, with a taxed bridle, on a taxed road; — and the dying Englishman, pouring his medicine, which has paid seven per cent., into a spoon that has paid fifteen per cent., flings himself back upon his chintz bed, which has paid twenty-two per cent., — and expires in the arms of an apothecary who has paid a license of a hundred pounds for the privi- lege of putting him to death. His whole property is then imme- diately taxed from two to ten per cent. Besides the proliate, large fees are demanded for burying him in the chancel ; his virtues are handed down to posterity on taxed marble; and he is then gathered to his father.s — to be taxed no more." — Sidnei/ Smith's Woilx-s, vol. i. pp. 323-4. 11 April, 1 853. ^ LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 018 485 124 6 •