Weekly expositor. (Brockway Centre, Mich.) 1882-1894, 1885-02-05
| reason cham to create a difference be.

reason than to create O difference be-
tween himself and his neighbors.
On the aesthetic side, the American
is still something like his own wilder
nesses, rough and unkempt, yet to one
who studies him with an eye not too
severe, full of rich promise.
Musically, he has nott progressed
much beyond the fondnes; for noise,
shared by all living creatures. The
strains of the fife and drum still have
power to stir him deeply, and his har-
monte warnings find ample expression
in the clamor of brass band.
In other branches of the fine arts, he
is hardly more developed. He has not
had time in the hurry and hustle of get
ting continent into living order, to
adjust his ideas upon painting and
sculpture, but he is conscious of pos
sessing such ideas, still in a somewhat
loscent state, somewhere in the inter-
rior recesses of his being.
On one point, however, he is quite
| clear, and that is that American art,
when it does arise, will be no tame imi-
tation Of the Greek and Roman.
He is little tired of the Greek and
Roman. They have been thrust upon
him with irate iteration, through so
many decades of contemptuous snub-
bing, that he experiences sense of
inward revolt against even their calm
and unaggressive domination. He is
clear-sighted enough, too, to perceive
that art must be native TO the soil.
Greek art looks too cold and white I'M
der our vivid skies. Beautiful it may
be, but the passion from which it sprung
has long ceased to throb in living veins.
The dust of the tomb is upon it. The
free and Astounding life of his new
world, must find fresher and warmer
expression than the empty shell of an
outlived past.
In nothing, perhaps, is the American
more distinct from other nationalities
than in the quality of his patriotism.
Without reverence for the past, or
strong attachment to any single fea-
ture in the present phase of the nation
al development, he is yet passionately
patriotic. He loves his country not for
what it is, or has been, but for what it
shall become. There is no looking back
with him, no signing over antique glo-
ries. He views the past with a curious
and amused smile. II is interesting by
way of contrast, but not so good as his
present, and utterly insignificant in
comparison with the future. When he
fights, it is not to preserve traditions.
Away with traditions!
They are cobwebs! They are rust!
Men may cry out sacrilege. He does
not know the meaning of the word.
All that was sacred in the past of hui
man effort, lives actively in the present.
Why should he burden himself with a
mass of dead matterP Wornout gar
ments, crumbling walls, dusty and IA
ded records, these things Cypress him,
and he hates oppression.
1t is not that he undertakes the sac
ritices of the patriots, or wishes to be-
little the work they achieved, but that
he and his generation have imbibed so
thoroughly the inspiration of their
deeds, that he feels himself one with
them. All that they did, he and his
generation could and would do, should
occasion demand.
This is the foundation of his quench-
less faith in the stability of free institu-
tons, faith so calm as to seem at times
more like indifference.
Far from being Indifferent, he regards
his country with proud and patroniz-
ing affection. He takes unreasonable
delight in its vastness, its wealth, its
beauty; he fondles it in his thought as
II he had made it.
1t seems to him the predestined home
Of people emancipated from every
form of tyranny, the land where the
last fetter of prejudice must fall away,
and the human race attain its culminat-
ing splendor.
Hence, portents of change do not APP
pail him. Knowing that the old things
must pass away,in order that all things
may become new, change means to
him, not ruin, but regeneration.-
Marion h. Baker, in The Current.