Nationality one is sure to have, whether desirable or not, but the great writers of every people are unquestionably those who, without foregoing their national character, rise to be countrymen of the world. Mr Sims, instead of complaining that his fellow-countrymen are European, (may more of them become so!) should be assured of this, that it is only those who rise to European reputation that can be the founders of an American literature. The day that sees the American poet or philosopher taking his place in the high European diet of sages and of poets, is the day when the national literature has become confirmed and established.[13] Mr Sims is, at all events, quite consistent with himself in his wish to break loose from European literature--he who is disposed to break loose entirely from all the past. History with him, _as history_, is utterly worthless. It is absolutely of no value but as it affords a raw material for novels and romances. One would hardly credit that a man would utter such an absurdity. Here it is, however, formally divulged. "The truth is--an important truth, which seems equally to have escaped," &c., &c.--"the truth is, the chief value of history consists in its proper employment for the purposes of art!--Consists in its proper employment, as so much raw material in the erection of noble fabrics and lovely forms, to which the fire of genius imparts soul, and which the smile of taste informs with beauty; and which, thus endowed and constituted, are so many _temples of mind_--_so many shrines of purity_--_where the big, blind, struggling heart_ of the multitude may rush--in its vacancy, and be made to feel;--in its blindness, and be made to see;--in its fear, and find countenance;--in its weakness, and be rendered strong;--in the humility of its conscious baseness, and be lifted into gradual excellence and hope!"--(P. 24.)