66 A GREAT PUBLIC CHARACTER. 



the invigoration of foreign rivalry. We may prove that we 

 are this and that and the other our Fourth of July orators 

 have proved it time and again the census has proved it; 

 but the Muses are women, and have no great iancy for sta 

 tistics, though easily silenced by them. We are great, we are 

 rich, we are all kinds of good things; but did it never occur 

 to you that somehow we are not interesting, except as a phe 

 nomenon ? It may safely be affirmed that for one cultivated 

 man in this country who studies American, there are fifty who 

 study European history, ancient or modern. 



Till within a year or two we have been as distant and 

 obscure to the eyes of Europe as Ecuador to our own. 

 Every day brings us nearer, enables us to see the Old World 

 more clearly, and by inevitable comparison to judge ourselves 

 with some closer approach to our real value. This has its 

 advantage so long as our culture is, as for a long time it must 

 be, European; for we shall be little better than apes and 

 parrots till we are forced to measure our muscle with the 

 trained and practised champions of that elder civilisation. 

 We have at length established our claim to the noblesse of 

 the sword, the first step still of every nation that would make 

 its entry into the best society of history. To maintain our 

 selves there, we must achieve an equality in the more exclu 

 sive circle of culture, and to that end must submit ourselves 

 to the European standard of intellectual weights and measures. 

 That we have made the hitherto biggest gun might excite 

 apprehension (were there a dearth of iron), but can never 

 exact respect. That our pianos and patent reapers have 

 won medals does but confirm us in our mechanic and ma 

 terial measure of merit. We must contribute something 

 more than mere contrivances for the saving of labour, which 

 we have been only too ready to misapply in the domain of 

 thought and the higher kinds of invention. In those Olympic 

 games where nations contend for truly immortal wreaths, it 

 may well be questioned whether a mowing-machine would 

 stand much chance in the chariot-races whether a piano, 

 though made by a chevalier, could compete successfully for 

 the prize of music. 



We shall have to be content for a good while yet with our 

 provincialism, and must strive to make the best of it. In it 

 lies the germ of nationality, and that is, after all, the prime 

 condition of all thoroughbred greatness of character. To, 



