ARTICLE VI. NATIONAL CHARACTER. WHAT is national character? On what does it depend? and when may it be said to exist? How far can we Americans, considered as a people, be said to have among us the true germ of a national character? and if such be really present what is its stage of development, and what are the conditions under which it is unfolding itself? Finally, how are we of the present day specially concerned in relation to this matter? Among the many questions which this hour of destiny has suggested in the minds of the thinking men and women of our country, such as these have not failed to arise, and though they are all of them too profound for a thorough investigation within the compass of a few pages, they may yet yield something to an examination far more superficial than their importance deserves. We may at least be impressed with the feeling that whether our nation has or shall have a character worthy of its promise and its antecedents, is not a question in reference to which we can be indifferent or passive, but one which leaves on each one of us a great responsibility; great at least in relation to ourselves, if not to that vast community of which we are members; a responsibility proportioned to the significance of the hour, and the ability which each one has to aid in shaping its issues aright. In the building of a great cathedral, there is first the architect who plans, then perhaps the master workman who directs the execution, then the subordinate laborers each in his station, no one of them a tool, no one without his share of importance, as he throws into the mighty work, his will, his genius, and his strength, obedient all the while to the guidance of his chief, or else, idle and inefficient, mars the general design, by some slovenly execution or base neglect. And it is ever nearest the foundation that this honest and conscientious effort, or this faithless indolence, tells with most effect on the excellence and future stability of the whole edifice. Character is the distinctive mark of an individual, the sign by which he may be infallibly known as distinguished from others of the same kind. It is a word properly applied to persons at first, because it is to persons that individuality really belongs, and from them that it emanates. It is not a superficial mark, indicative of relation merely, but proceeds rather from the inmost centre of the being, and implies all that is in it, even potentially, though exhibiting perfectly only that which it is actually. To be understood it must be understood in its springs. When we speak of national character, therefore, we cannot allude to the nation in any merely abstract sense, but must still have a reference to the individuals of which it is composed, and in inquiring after some central force to which we may attribute that shaping of the national life, as one, composed of and springing out of many, we shall vainly seek it in anything external, anything that is merely a product, or that belongs only to a temporary development in the form of that character. The form of government for example, however powerfully it may re-act upon the national temper, is a consequence of something that was in it previously, and is continually varied in accordance with the changes which take place in the people at large. The leading minds who appear to guide the course of affairs and who represent the nation in its relations with the rest of the world, have but a brief influence, and are ever passing out of the current, to be superseded by others, unless there is in them something which indeed meets and takes hold upon the real tendencies and permanent disposition of the people. What then, let us ask ourselves, is the ground of this mutual and interdependent existence, by which the multitude comes to be in certain relations regarded as a unit, and reasoned about. with safety as an individual? The law is in fact no more mysterious, though far more vital, than that by which the perfect crystal gives to the tendencies of each individual particle of those that compose it, their only complete expression. We are brought back to the unity of the human race as the true basis from which to start; the race itself being in fact merely a great family, a multiplication of the one, repeating always the same general characteristics, and with interests really so identical, that the history of every member of it, whose end of being is fulfilled, will be in its essential features the same with that of every other. The great diversities and contradictions that exist, arise from something abnormal, something that has disturbed the common growth, and produces distortions and deviations from the true law of healthy and happy development. The family has been sundered, its closer ties broken, and the interests and aims, originally and really one, appear so diverse and opposite, that we have to think awhile to realize what is implied, when we say, and know, that what is good for one man considered as a man is good for all. The life of humanity should have been like that of a beautiful tree whose branches and twigs, though each perfect in itself, and each accomplishing the life of an individual, with its roots that go downward, and its leaves and germinating shoots that go upward, are nevertheless united in the common stock, and draw their common nourishment from the same soil, each, too, contributing its part to the general prosperity, and by the healthful and vigorous working of its own proper functions, insuring so far the well-being of the whole. But though this glorious unity is broken, yet it is as impossible in the one case as in the other that the individual should subsist alone, and in every broken twig that is set off from this maimed and wounded tree, however false and unsightly its growth may be, there is yet, and must be, a common life of the many in the one, and of the one in the many, whose cessation would be a cessation of existence itself. It is obvious, too, that in the case of every such fragment there must be from the time of its transplanting, superadded to that general unity which belonged to it at first, the effect of a common experience, consisting of the various circumstances operating upon it from without, and the reaction taking place from within, which according as the group thus set apart is vital, and of strong and healthy tendencies, will make it more and more individual, as related to other groups; more and more unmistakably marked with a common character, through whose impress almost any member of it may be distinguished from the members of any similar community. Thus we often find away back near the beginning of a nation's history, a basis of family relationship, and, implied in this, a cer tain family likeness, shown in general habits and tendencies; a strong foundation for national character this, but one which does not always suffice. For we find that there sometimes comes in upon the first family or tribe, a second, endowed with stronger vitality, by which the former is certain, sooner or later, to be either absorbed, suppressed, or finally destroyed. Sometimes there are several such invasions, one after another, in which case the stronger element, be it sooner or later in making its appearance, inevitably prevails. Meantime, that element destined to predominate over the rest, receives in its turn the reaction of those subordinated to it, and is thus continually modified more and more. Thus as the nation begins, the family ends. The family seems to be the original basis for the state; but the state once formed, there will be no new development of purely family characteristics in any great and general mass. Indeed the formation of those great divisions of the human race which we call families, appears to belong to the nomadic period, when the family and the state are actually one. Henceforth we shall behold only the old traits, more or less modified, and showing themselves ever and anon under new circumstances and in new combinations. Meantime, the mutual action and reaction of the genius of different races upon each other will be varied according to the mode and frequency of the introduction of the new elements, whether by invasion or immigration; whether by vast additions, and at long intervals of time, or by a steady stream of gradual increase; whether in their original state, or as modified by union with some other national life. Next in importance to the influence of these component parts of a nation upon each other, will be that of the form of government which it adopts, or which is thrust upon it from without. This is conditioned in the first place, as has been said, by the character of the people as already formed, and may be altered or overthrown, as the latter make farther advances in a free national life, or, by a retrograde movement, sink backward in the direction of barbarism. But, whatever it be, in every stage of strength or weakness, it still reacts mightily upon the people. It is indeed itself the true form of national life, receiving and appropriating for it all influences from without; developing or repressing those from within; having control, next to absolute, over the aspect of the present, and pushing forward a vast power into the future. Were any government in fact what it is ideally, the pure result of the true wants of the people, the people also being in a condition where their desires and their wants should harmonize, its power could never be shaken. Its exercise would then be characterized by no such extremes of despotism and license as we see now. There would be no such. violent contests between the wills of rulers and people; between law and anarchy; between liberty on the one hand, and on the other the lawless tyranny of the many or the one. There would be change no doubt, but gradual and gentle; no more hostile to joyous progress than the unfolding of new leaves on the growing tree at the return of spring. But as it is, these changes are often violent, destructive in the process, and even when they result in a new advance, or imply it as already made, the immediate fruits are many of them horrible in evil. The absolute certainty of permanence is wanting to all governments whatever; because the elements on which that permanence depends are not in perfectly harmonious relations, and the conflict may often be deeper than is known, and the destructive forces stronger. Hence great revolutions come more or less unexpectedly, though their causes have long been pointed out and watched. Seldom can the time when they will break forth be exactly prophesied. Still less the course they will take, the results they will leave behind them. These great movements in the heart of nations have often been compared to the convulsions of the physical world, and with justice; since they are the result of forces out of sight, and their effects cannot be calculated by human wisdom. But, as a general thing, they have ultimately been favorable to the cause of human advancement; and in every case where a nation was not effete already, a mass of decay that needed to be swept out of the way, to make room for fresher elements, it has not only survived such change, but taken from it a new start- the date of a new term of glad and exulting progress. These, then, these times of danger and seeming ruin, must also take their place among the more important causes which help to mould a people's life. - The great men of a nation are also a product of its own; but they give back more than they receive. In them the wisdom |