Nor could utility itself provide anything more practically serviceable
to the hundred millions who, a couple of generations hence, will
inhabit within the limits just named, than the permeation of a sane,
sweet, autochthonous national poetry--must I say of a kind that does
not now exist? but which, I fully believe, will in time be supplied on
scales as free as Nature's elements. (It is acknowledged that we of
the States are the most materialistic and money-making people ever
known. My own theory, while fully accepting this, is that we are the
most emotional, spiritualistic, and poetry-loving people also.)
Infinite are the new and orbic traits waiting to be launch'd forth in
the firmament that is, and is to be, America. Lately, I have wonder'd
whether the last meaning of this cluster of thirty-eight States is not
only practical fraternity among themselves--the only real union, (much
nearer its accomplishment, too, than appears on the surface)--but for
fraternity over the whole globe--that dazzling, pensive dream of ages!
Indeed, the peculiar glory of our lands, I have come to see, or expect
to see, not in their geographical or republican greatness, nor wealth
or products, nor military or naval power, nor special, eminent names
in any department, to shine with, or outshine, foreign special names
in similar departments,--but more and more in a vaster, saner, more
surrounding Comradeship, uniting closer and closer not only the
American States, but all nations, and all humanity.
Pages:
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500
501
502