Americanisms and Briticisms

In Short

This volume is a spirited manifesto for American literary independence, written during a time of lingering colonial deference. Through a series of focused essays, it examines the development of the English language on American soil, argues for a more professional and empathetic standard of criticism, and assesses the work of contemporaries like Mark Twain and James Fenimore Cooper. It remains a significant historical document, capturing the specific anxieties and pride of a nation transitioning from a provincial cultural outpost to a self-assured, creative power on the global stage.

The Story

The argument begins by dismantling the "insularity" of British critics who viewed any deviation from London usage as a corruption of the language. The author demonstrates that linguistic change is inevitable and that American usages—often labeled "Americanisms"—are frequently older, more logical, or simply different regional variations rather than inferior substitutes. By tracing etymologies and citing historical examples, the text argues that the English language is the shared birthright of all who speak it, not the exclusive property of the British. The author contends that intellectual independence is the necessary final step for a nation that has already achieved political autonomy; without it, the American writer remains an echo of the mother country rather than a voice for his own people.

From this linguistic foundation, the discussion shifts to the state of American letters. The author documents the growth of the American book trade, showing that by the late 19th century, domestic authorship had surged, finally standing on equal footing with foreign imports. This theme of maturation extends to the stage, where the author observes that American plays depicting American life and character have become both more popular and more profitable than foreign imports, signaling a shift in public taste.

The narrative arc then moves to critical appraisal, where the author highlights the need for a more rigorous and less biased approach to literature. He offers a passionate defense of James Fenimore Cooper, arguing that Cooper’s portrayals of American characters—specifically the frontiersman and the Native American—are enduring artistic achievements that have been unfairly maligned by superficial parodies and prejudiced critics. He contrasts the "ignorant insularity" of those who dismiss American writers with the need for a critic who "must enter the arena and bear a hand in the combat," championing the work of current authors rather than hiding behind the safety of established classics.

The final segments of the book move toward practical application. The author provides a "Twelve Good Rules" guide for critics, emphasizing the importance of empathy, focus, and honesty over the cheap shots of the "east wind" reviewer. He also turns his attention to the "woman’s novel," noting the evolution of female fiction from the didactic and often poorly written works of the 18th century to the more refined standard set by Jane Austen. The book concludes with a survey of humorists and essayists, reinforcing the idea that American literature has found its own unique cadence. By the end, the argument is clear: American literature is no longer a colonial shadow but a robust, distinct entity that commands respect on its own terms.

How It Unfolds

The language of the land The author challenges the British tendency to view London usage as the sole authority for English, arguing that "Americanisms" are often valid linguistic choices rather than barbarisms. He uses historical data to prove that many words condemned as American are actually rooted in older, established English tradition.

The shift toward independence Statistical evidence is presented to track the rise of American book publishing and theater, demonstrating a clear trend toward domestic content. This movement represents a shedding of "intellectual deference" as the nation moves toward a complete and final sense of cultural identity.

The defense of the pioneers A critical look at the literary legacy of James Fenimore Cooper serves to illustrate the author’s stance against dismissive, parochial criticism. By contextualizing Cooper’s work within the reality of his time, the argument justifies his place among the great figures of world literature.

The code for the critic The book codifies the responsibility of the literary critic, urging a move away from bitterness and toward the support of new, vital talent. The author provides a set of twelve rules intended to professionalize the craft, urging critics to act as stewards of quality for the reading public.

The People

The author, Brander Matthews, acts as the central voice of the book, positioning himself as a mediator between the old world of British tradition and the emerging, energetic American scene. He is a man of precise, measured opinions who seeks to replace prejudice with evidence. He frequently relies on the support of Thomas R. Lounsbury, to whom he dedicates the work, crediting him as a guiding influence in his research.

James Fenimore Cooper emerges as a vital, if misunderstood, figure. Matthews defends Cooper against the "mists of prejudice," positioning him as a creator of profound, legendary characters like Leatherstocking, whose reach and influence extend far beyond his American roots.

Mark Twain is highlighted as a master of character, particularly through the voice of Huckleberry Finn. Matthews holds Twain in high regard, using his work as a prime example of the "genuine idiom" that distinguishes American literature from its British predecessors.

In contrast, the "ordinary British critic"—represented by publications like the Saturday Review and the Athenaeum—serves as the primary obstacle to the author’s vision. These critics are portrayed as insular and patronizing, unwilling to acknowledge the validity of anything outside their own narrow, parochial experiences. Finally, the author addresses fellow essayists like Agnes Repplier, whom he views as "very clever and very colonial," critiquing her tendency to ignore the vast resources of American literature in favor of contemporary British sources.

In Its Own Voice

"The Englishman in England is but the elder brother of the Anglo-Saxon elsewhere; and by no right of primogeniture does he control the language which is our birthright."

This sentence serves as the cornerstone of the author's argument regarding the linguistic equality of Americans and the British.

"If criticism itself is to be seen of men, it must enter the arena and bear a hand in the combat."

Here, the author describes the necessary, active role of the critic who moves beyond passive contemplation of the classics to engage with the literature of the present.

What It's Really About

The work centers on the struggle for cultural self-respect in a country still haunted by its colonial past. It addresses the tension between tradition and evolution, arguing that language and literature are living, changing things that cannot be tethered to a single geographic origin. Underlying the specific debates about spelling and usage is a broader philosophical question about identity: how can a nation define its own character when it is still speaking the language of its former masters? The author posits that the only true path to maturity is the rejection of an inferiority complex in favor of a self-confident, evidence-based assessment of one’s own intellectual contributions.

Why Read It Today

Readers with an interest in the history of the English language or the development of American identity will find much to appreciate here. The prose is elegant and warm, characteristic of a sophisticated 19th-century essayist who values clarity over complexity. While the specific debates over spelling and the relative merits of 1890s novelists may feel distant, the author’s underlying struggle—the desire for a culture to be judged by its own standards rather than by the condescending gaze of an external authority—remains remarkably modern.

The reader should be prepared for the author’s occasional reliance on the cultural biases of his era, particularly his firm, sometimes sharp-edged views on the "colonial" tendencies of other American writers. The book does not attempt to be a neutral survey; it is an opinionated, passionate intervention in a cultural argument. Those who enjoy the "Easy Chair" style of American essay writing—witty, conversational, yet intellectually rigorous—will find the voice here familiar and inviting. It is a rewarding look at the intellectual labor required to build a national literature, leaving the reader with a clearer understanding of the pride and the friction that defined American intellectual life at the close of the 19th century.