Carson Johnson - The Permanence of Literary Fame, by J. J. Carson, July 3, 1877

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Appendix III

The Permanence of Literary Fame

By J. J. Carson

Delivered at Mercer University July 3^rd, 1877

The fame which results from the pursuit of literature is the most exalted and durable to which man can attain. It is a pure and noble distinction compared with which the trophies of the successful warrior, are utterly worthless, and shall outlast [torn out] and grow brighter when his laurels have faded and crumbled into dust.

The fame of the old blind Greek poet, grows brighter with the lapse of time. Homer’s works, though written thousands of years ago, still live; and, will be read and admired as long as human beings love the beautiful and sublime in sentiment and the heroic in action. As time rolls on in its course, all things that are of earth change; some disappear and are utterly forgotten; but the fame of Homer becomes increasingly brilliant. The tide of his song has borne upon its bosom the names and the deeds of the heroes of former times, who have passed from the earth, and of whom, but for his writings, we would never have heard.

Rome – the republic – the empire – is little better than a ruin; but the literary works of the Augustan age are still extant as monuments of the genius of her sons. Could the shades of the immortal Cicero or Horace re-visit the earth, they would see their fame increasing in lustre from year to year. The works of Virgil are still preserved in the literature of the world, unaltered by the lapse of two thousand years, except that they have become more extensively known and are more than thoroughly appreciated in all lands where civilization sheds its benign influence. The same is true of the writings of the other Roman authors.

Byron, the generous and gifted Byron, who sacrificed his life on the altar of Grecian liberties, and left to posterity the productions of his wonderful genius, will be remembered in all future ages. As a lover of liberty, not less than a poet, must he be ever admired for his devotion to her cause. To Greece especially, the land of eloquence and song, the birth-place of heroes and philosophers, of orators and poets, the home of freedom and patriotic devotion, must his name be forever dear. Her ancient glories fired his soul with lofty enthusiasm, her hapless fate touched his generous bosom with sympathy, and while he embalmed her former splendor and triumphs in immortal verse, he gave his life to free her from the chains of her degrading bondage. There are garlands for his grave, pity for his faults and unfading laurels for his genius.

Bunyan – the far-famed Bunyan, name familiar in thirteen different tongues, will ever be honored, because of the purity of his character, and the loftiness of his genius as exhibited in his immortal allegory. With but little education, and for twelve years confined in a common prison, he has erected a monument in the literary world, “more lasting than brass”. In glowing colors, the name of John Bunyanis written high on the scroll of fame, and time, instead of effacing it, will but make it the brighter. The creations of his vivid immagination will live by the side of those of Shakespeare, to delight and instruct and influence successive generations of readers to the end of time. They will continue to appeal to the heart and the conscience wherever the gospel shall be preached. And when in the distant future, the results of human writings upon the race, the results of the good which man has sought, with the pen, to do to his fellow man, shall be summed up, it will be seen that no un-inspired book has done more to guide and bless man in his journey through this life, than that single effort of Bunyan’s sanctified genius. When we look over the whole world, what have we of the past, after the lapse of nearly six thousand years, except the fame of writers who have recorded the history of the world, of poets and orators, who have stirred the souls of men, and philosophers who have investigated the nature and the causes of things? Where are the magnificent cities, the splendid empires, the mighty conquerors, for whom the earth was too small, the haughty kings who “killed with frowns”, the courtiers who basked in their smiles, and the great statesmen who schemed and plotted against each other? All are gone. Where are the wise-men of the old world? Where are the thinkers of ancient, and many of the thinkers of modern times? All have vanished, and their works alone remain as monuments of their greatness and their renown. An idiot might break with a hammer, break into a thousand pieces, the most beautiful work of art that Grecian genius ever conceived, but literary fame defies the empire of decay and shall still live when all that is perishable has passed away and is forgotten.