vm*^****mmm^m wm- mmm^^~ -*r 3S_. Book H-4AZS lilt BOSTON SCHOOL-BOOK DEPOSITORY, iWo. 131 Washington. Street—up stairs* OLD STAND OF RICHARDSON, LORD & HOLBROOK, AND CARTER, HENDEE & CO. The Subscribers being engaged in the publication of School-Books, would call the attention cf those who are interested in Teaching, and School Committees, to the following List of valuable Class Books for Common Schools and Academies; believing tham equal if not superior to any other Class Books in use. They are all manufactured in the most thorough and careful manner, from ihe best materials; and for neatness and durability will be found superior to the great majority 'or School-Books. Copies of any of the works enumerated in the following List will be furnished to Teachers or members of School Committees, &c. for examination — free of charge. — Where a class is desirous of making a trial of any of the books, they will be furnished on liberal terms, with the privilege of returning them, if they do not give satisfaction. G. W. PALMER & CO. Boston, Feb. 1838. WORCESTER'S READING BOOKS, FOR SCHOOLS. I. WORCESTER'S FIRST BOOK, OR PRIMER. II. WORCESTER'S SECOND BOOK, FOR READING AND SPELLING. III. WORCESTER'S THIRD BOOK, FOR READING AND SPELLING, WITH RULES AND INSTRUCTIONS FOR AVOIDING COMMON ERRORS. IV. WORCESTER'S FOURTH BOOK FOR READING, WITH RULES AND IN- STRUCTIONS. The above form a complete seri fta ^ f Reading Bonks, which are not surpassed by any other works for this purpose now befo Tftertttes which are inserted in the Third and Fourth Books, have been fou fl ' : - correcting the young reader, while they give great assistance The Publishers have been inf that classes taught from this se cal knowledge, in this all-impo ■■■.<■■ have acquired in thrice the time from etJ Re commendations of the above Works from Individuals and . From William Russell, Teacher of Elocution, Feb. 5, 1838. In a letter recently received by the Publishers, Mr. Russell remarks, — K Tt gives me great pleasure to have opportunity of orfi'ring any testimony 1 can render to Mr. Worcester's seriei of Reading Books. I consider them the best adapted of any to youthful readers. They are more simple in matter and style, and more interesting to children, than any others that I have tried. They are finely suited, in particular, to the offices of maternal instruction at home. They are, further, excellently adapted to the improvement of young readers in articulation and pronunciation, as many prevailing eirors are carefully indicated in them. The senti- ments, too, which are embodied in these books, are such as parents would wish to have incul- cated during the early years of life." From Ebenczer Bailey, Principal of the Young Ladies' High School, Boston; Author of " Young Ladies' Class Book," and " First Lessons in Jllgebra." (t I have used Worcester's seiies of Reading Books in my school ever since they were pub- lished, and regard thorn as among the most valuable works of the kind with which I am ao- quainted." From Rev. James TV. Poland, Teacher of Youth. 11 Having made use of Worcester's Third and Fourth Books of Lessons for Reading, &c. in my school for some time past, I feel that I can recommend them wiih perfect confidence, as being superior to any that 1 have ever used, for forming correct habits in reading- At the commencement of. each lesson a rule is given in such a familiar manner, that no scholar, after reading it twice, can forget the substance of it. The errorg noticed ut the close of each le«- 2 BOSTON SCHOOL-BOOK DEPOSITORY. §011, together with the questions, fix the attention still more, and afford both interest and instruction. T sincerely hope that many teachers of youth will he induced to give both hooks a candid examination, after which, 1 think they will not hesitate to give them their decided preference." From Rev. James Culbertson, Rev. G. C. Sedgwick, W. Buell, Esq. and John M. Howe, (Principal Mclntgre Free School,) Zanesville, Ohio. 11 We have examined Worcester's Reading Books, and think them the most useful reading books that have yet appeared. We recommend to Parents and Teachers to give them an early examination." From the Principal of the Woodstock, ( Vl.) High School. " Worcester's Fourth Book is truly deserving of notice. The subjects and arrangements are indeed excellent. His rules at the head of each chapter, and his exposition of errors, together with his list of phrases, &c. all combine to render the book such an one as is needed in our schools. " Those who have used Mr. Worcester's Primer are aware of his peculiar talents in ren- dering those usually ' dry subjects ' interesting to children ; and to them it is sufficient to say, that the Second Book has the same simple and attractive character as the First. " We hardly know of a book which h.is contributed so extensively, or so effectually to the improvement of education in its early stages, as Worcester's Primer. We are glad to see a secondary book by the same author. The same simplicity and animation which character ised the Primer, and the same neat and agreeable style of cuts, with an appropriate elevation of the intellectual and moral effect of the lessons, prevail in the present work. This hook possesses peculiar excellence in regard to instruction in the art of reading." — Education Reporter. l< It is constructed on the same plan with the Third Book of the same series *, each selec- tion, whether of prose or poetry, being preceded by a rule for reading, and followed by a list of common errors in pronouncing some of the words included in it. The object of these pe- culiarities of Mr. Worcester's Third and Fourth Books, is to make reading a study in our schools, instead of a meie exercise. " We regard the Fourth Rook, on the whole, as a useful compilation for the classes for whom it was intended. There is a large fund of valuable information embodied in the Rules and Instructions at the beginning, and in the Errors and Questions at the end of each chapter, as also at the end of the work, even more than the author, in his modesty, has ventured to claim." — Annals of Education. From the Brooklyn (JV. Y.) Advocate, and Nassau Gazette. " Amidst the great diversity of School-Book- *'- ■•«- nave been published, parents have often great difficulty in making a selection for. iicir children. We have ourselves been much puz- zled on this point ; but have at Iast v .i';t3r considerable search, discovered what we consider as decidedly the best Element .ry" reading books ever published. We refer to Worcester's four books of Reading and Spelling. \Ve have examined these books attentively ; and can- not refrain from expressing our sincere conviction that they are every way worthy of patron- age. There are two things, in particular, which, in our opinion, pre-eminently distinguish Mr. W.'s hooks over all others. These are, 1st, the peculiar adaptation of the lessons, and the method of their induction, to the minds of the children ; and 2d!y, their entire freedom from the inculcation of any sentiment or principle not precisely in accordance with the purest Scriptural rule. ''Worcester's Fourth Book should be in the hands of every adult in the country. There is no person, however well informed in his mind, or polished or correct in his deportment, that might not gain much valuable information therefrom. " We have given this extended notice of these books, considering that by so doing we are merely performing our duty." PARLEY'S SCHOOL-BOOKS. I. PARLEY'S ARITHMETIC 5 with numerous Engravings. From the Principal of the Young Ladies' 1 Seminary, Exeter, JV. H. 11 I am sorry I have not had the benefit of ' Parley's Arithmetic * in years past. I have never seen any thing hearing the name of Arithmetic half so attractive. Children will have Arithmetic at the outset, if they have the good fortune to begin with Peter Parle)'." From L. JV. Dag get, JVareham, Mass. " Having carefully examined c Parley's Method of Teaching Arithmetic to children,' lean most cheerfully recommend it to parents and teachers." BOSTON SCHOOL-BOOK DEPOSITORY. 6 " It is an admirable work, full of beautiful engravings, and peculiarly well adapted to the wants and capacities of infant mathematicians." — Evening' Gazette. w It is prepared in the plainest sty'e and in a manner well calculated to interest and lead on the smallest capacity."— Philadelphia Saturday Evening Post. <: The plan is a good one, and we think it very well executed." — Worcester Spy. il It is an excellent little work." — Northampton Courier. u Of its immediate usefulness and success, we have little doubt." — Annals of Education. IL PARLEY'S BOOK OF THE UNITED STATES, Geographical, Political, and Histor- ical ; with Comparative Views of other Countries. Illustraied by 40 engravings, designed and executed in the best manner, expressly for this work, and Light Maps from new steel PLATES. This book forms an 18mo. volume of upwards of 200 pages, to which is added about 1000 questions on the matter in the body of the work — together with several hundred questions on the Maps. u An excellent, compendium — It contains, in a condensed form, a great amount of useful information. The plan pursued throughout the book is, in one important respect, superior to t' ' almost any other similar work. We refer to the continual comparisons made between tiiu 'sets" described, and similar objects in other countries, — theseby showing the resem- blance «. d f'iiTc.ences which exist between this and other portions of the earth. The atten- .ionoftb" -«nng reader is thus kept more continually awake, and an additional interest is t ,art of the book. It is well fitted for the school-room or juvenile library." — }-'r evidence Courier. This is one of Parley's most admirable productions. * * * * The plan is novel and m -nious, and for young pupils excellent •, and the work is worthy of forming an Introduction lie First Book of History, for which purpose it was designed by the author." — Annals of I •ucation. - One of his (Parle) 's) most successful efforts." — Family Magazine. i new work for Schools, admirably adapted to its object." — Windham County Democrat. ; I' '; a nutshell of Knowledge, and ought to be immediately and universally introduced »i o fconools." — Exeter News Letter. • One of the most useful Books, whether for instruction or amusement, we have seen for a D g time, and well calculated to fiil a vacuum in the smaller works, relating to this country, v jh has long existed." — Brooklyn, (N. Y.) Advocate. f . is a eornpend of valuable instruction." — Philadelphia Saturday News, " The work before us we think calculated to be useful to parents in giving instruction to their children upon the subjects which it embraces, and is well adapted to the youthful learner in Schools." — Christian Watchman. III. THE FIRST TOOK OF HISTORY, OR HISTORY ON THE BASIS OF GEOG- RAPHY, (comprehending the Countries of the Western Hemisphere,) with sixty Engravings, from original Designs, and sixteen Maps of the different sections of the United States and the various countries of the Western Hemisphere, executed in the most beautiful manner on steel plates. " This is decidedly the best historical work for children we have ever met with. It is filled with ideas instead of dates. Let every child study this hook t hree months, in his own way, and he will have a better knowledge of the history and geography of his own country, than is often acquired by spending three year3 in the senseless operation of committing to memory page after page of the tiresome treatises in common use." — Brandon Telegraph. IV. THE SECOND BOOK OF HISTORY ; (comprehending the Countries of the Eastern Hemisphere,) with many Engravings, and sixteen Maps, from steel plates, of the different countries. " Those who have used the c First Book of History, 5 will need no persuasion to use this also ; it is on the same perspicuous plan, and well adapted to the abilities and wants of the young historian." — Evening Gazette. V. THE THIRD BOOK OF HISTORY; by the same author and on the same plan; comprehending Ancient History in connexion with Ancient Geography; with Maps and Engravings. 11 This is an excellent work. It contains an admirable synopsis of the rise, progress, and downfall of the Roman Empire, and is written in a familiar style, which, in connexion with the many remaikable incidents which it embodies, must make it particularly interesting to children." — Mercantile Journal. From the Principal of the High School Woodstock, Vt. c< I must say, that if any work upon History, of the same extent, is deserving public ap- probation for its real merits, it is the ' First, Second, and Third Books of History,' by Peter Parley." 4 BOSTON SCHOOL-BOOK DEPOSITORY. SULLIVAN'S CLASS BOOKS FOR SCHOOLS. I. THE POLITICAL CLASS BOOK, designed to instruct the Higher Classes in School* in the Origin, Nature, and Use of Political Power. By William Sullivan, LL. D. " The lihrary of no citizen is complete where this work is wanting ; and if the shelf contains no more than a Bible and an Almanac, the householder should not attend a town-meeting un- til he has at least read the Political Class Book." — Massachusetts Spy. II. THE MORAL CLASS BOOK ; or, the Law of Morals, derived from the Created Uni- verse and from Revealed Religion 5 intended for Schools as well as private Reading. By William Sullivan, LL. D. "The American and British public have united in pronouncing this the best Manual of Moral Philosophy ever prepared fur young minds ; we would recommend it most warmly as a text-book for schools and closet scholars, and believe that its general use would be productive of much good to the rising generation." — Mercantile Journal. III. THE HISTORICAL CLASS BOOK ; containing Sketches of History from the begin- ning of the world to the end of the Roman Empire. " It is written in a chaste and clear style and contains much valuable information. We are pleased alike with the plan and its execution, and have little doubt with regard to its utili- ty." — Hartford Independent Press. 11 This work is the most satisfactory Manual of History we have ever met with, and as •uch we recommend it to our readers." — New York Mirror. GRUND'S MATHEMATICAL COURSE. I. AN ELEMENTARY TREATISE ON GEOMETRY, simplified for Beginners not versed in Algebra. Part I. containing Plane Geometry, with its Application to the Solution of Problems. By F. J. Grund. II. AN ELEMENTARY TREATISE ON GEOMETRY, simplified for Beginnors not versed in Algebra. Part IE. containing Solid Geometry, with its Application to the Solu- tion of Problems. By F. J. Grund. At a meeting of the School Committee of the city of Boston, Mr. Grujnd*s Geometry was recommended as a suitable book to be used in the Public Schools. III. ELEMENTS OF NATURAL PHILOSOPHY, with Questions for Review, illustrated by one hundred and eighty-eight Engravings ; for the use of Schools. Third Edition, stereo- typed. IV. ELEMENTS OF CHEMISTRY; with Practical Exercises j for Schools. By F. J. Grund. V. POPULAR ASTRONOxMY, on a new Plan ; in which some of the leading Principles of the Science are illustrated by actual Comparisons, Independent of the use of Numbers. VI. EXERCISES IN ARITHMETIC, for Schools 3 with a Key for the use of the Teacher. VII. EXERCISES IN ALGEBRA, for Schools ; with a Key for the use of the Teacher. RUSSELL'S LESSONS IN ENUNCIATION. New Edition, RUSSELL'S GESTURE. New Edition, improved. THE CHILD'S BOTANY; with Copperplate Engravings. 9th Edition. HOLBROOK'S GEOMETRY. Easy Lessons in Geometry, intended for Infant and Pri- mary Schools, but useful in Academies, Lyceums, and Families. By Josiah Holbrook. Tenth Edition. ABBOTT'S LITTLE PHILOSOPHER. An invaluable work for Primary Schools. THE GEOGRAPHICAL COPY-BOOK; consisting of Outline and Skeleton Maps, adapt- ed to the use of Schools, with an Introduction, explaining the Nature and Use of Maps, in the most familiar manner. By Wm. C. Woodbridge. WALSH'S ARITHMETIC. The Mercantile Arithmetic ; adapted to the Commerce of the United States in its domestic and foreign Relations ; with an Appendix, containing prac- tical Systems of Mensuration, Guaging, and a new and improved System of Book-Keeping. A new Edition, revised and enlarged. By Michael Walsh, A. M. . NOYES'S SYSTEM OF PENMANSHIP, Containing Instructions for Writing, with two lets of Copies in Large and Small hand. In addition to the above, G. W. Palmer & Co. have constantly on hand a supply of School, Classical, Music and Miscellaneous Books and Stationery, which they will sell on the most reasonable terms. Boston, Feb. 1838. <3M-^> +7?^ ^^- **=W ^f^, RUDIMENTS /^ GESTURE, ' / COMPRISING f ^^"P ILLUSTRATIONS OF COMMON FAULTS ATTITUDE AND ACTION. <*-?*> 7 BY WILLIAM RUSSELL. SECOND EDITION, IMPROVED. WITH FIFTY-SIX llNGRl^INGS. - TO WHICH IS ADDED AN APPENDIX, DESIGNED FOR PRACTICAL EXERCISE IN DECLAMAT I ON, CONSISTING OF A DEBATE ON THE CHARACTER OF JULIUS CAESAR. B T JAMES SHERIDAN KNOWLES. BOSTON: G. W. PALMER & COMPANY. 1838. $ Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1838, by J. H. Jenks & G. W. Palmer, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts* 3 5-/ n Printed by Wm. A. Hall & Co. PREFACE. Delivery, as a combination of speech and action, addresses itself to the mind through the ear and the eye. Regarded as an art, it consists, accordingly, of two parts, — elocution, or the regulated functions of the voice, — and gesture, or the proper management of the body. The following treatise is limited to the latter of these branches, which has hitherto been much neglected in education, to the injury, not mere- ly of the general style of eloquence, but of those fac- ulties of mind to which the appropriate delivery of sentiment is, perhaps, the best form of discipline. Gesture derives its existence from the necessary sympathy of mind and body. It is by no means a mere product of art. A sympathetic action of the outward frame, in correspondence with the activity of the mind, is necessarily exerted in the communi- cation of thought and feeling, and results from a law 8 PREFACE. of man's constitution. The repression of such action may, it is true, become an habitual trait in the char- acter of individuals and of nations ; so may the op- posite characteristic of redundancy in gesture. Ex- amples of these extremes are furnished in the rigid stillness of body, which is customary in the elocu- tion of Scotland; or of New England, and in the ceaseless movement and gesture of the French. to^ Education, too, has a powerful influence on de- livery. The exclusive application of the under- standing, a too passive continuance of attention, or a native sluggishness of habit, indulged, has a tendency to quell or prevent emotion, and to keep back its corporeal indications ; while the habitual and unrestrained play of imagination, or of feeling, impels to vivid expression in tone, and to the visi- ble manifestations of attitude and action. Hence the contrasts of manner exhibited in the delivery of the studious, the sedentary, or the phlegmatic, and that of the active, the gay, or the imagina- tive ; — both of which usually run to excess, produ- cing the morbid style of lifelessness and inaction, or the puerile manner of mere animal vivacity. Education, as the great agent in human improve- ment, aims not at a local, or particular, but an ideal and general excellence in man. Early culture, therefore, should be so directed as to free the PREFACE. y mental habits, and their external traces, from the injurious influences of imperfect or erroneous ex- ample, and to give the youthful powers that free and generous scope, which their full development requires. The standard of perfection in delivery, should be farmed on no views limited merely by the arbitrary customs of a community, — perhaps by the corrupting influence of neglect or perversion, as regards the discipline of imagination and taste. The genuine style of eloquence is that, surely, which gives the strongest, freest, and truest ex- pression to the natural blending of thought and emotion within the human breast ; — breaking through all arbitrary restraint, and submitting only to the guidance of reason, — or, rather, listening intuitively to its suggestions. The common errors of judgment and taste, on this subject, seem to lie in the supposition that thought and feeling may be separated in their expression. Every day furnishes examples of speakers, who, from the coldness of their manner, seem to think that they can succeed in imparting sentiment without emotion, — and of those, whose rhetorical and mechanical warmth appears to aim at eloquence by emotion not founded on thought, The tendency of deep interest, and of earnest, cordial emphasis, is always to impart impulse to 10 PREFACE. the arm, as well as to the voice. The instruc- tion, therefore, or the example, which inculcates the suppression of gesture, is defective and injuri- ous ; as it checks the free action both of body and mind. The unlimited indulgence of fancy, or the ungoverned expression of feeling, on the other hand, leads either to a puerile or a merely pas- sionate manner, and loses the influence of intellect in a false excitement of emotion. A good delivery is that which, in the first place, may be briefly characterized by the epithet manly. It possesses force, — consequently exemption from all forms of weakness ; — freedom, (a natural con- sequence of force,) implying exemption from con- straint and embarrassment. These are the first and indispensable rudiments of action. Next in importance, is an appropriate or discriminating style, — the result of genius, or of successful dis- cipline, — which adapts itself to different occasions, subjects, and sentiments ; varying as circumstances require, and avoiding every impropriety of manner* whether arising from personal habit, or temporary inadvertency and error. Last in order, and as a negative quality, chiefly, may be mentioned grace, or those modes of action which obey nature's laws of symmetry and motion, from the intuitive per- ception of beauty, and the disciplined or natural PREFACE. 11 subjection of the muscular system, to the ascend- ancy of mind and taste. These elementary principles are all that have been deemed important in the instruction attempt- ed in the following pages. All else, it is thought, may best be left to individual mind and manner, — which, if not perverted or neglected, would, perhaps, render direct instruction, in any case, comparatively unimportant. The effects of accomplished oratory are to be looked for from no single source : they are the fruits of the whole course of mental culture embra- ced in education. The end of this manual will have been fully accomplished, if teachers are ena- bled, by the use of it, to lay, in season, the founda- tion of habit; so as to preserve the delivery of their pupils from the prominent faults of uncultiva- ted or perverted taste. The rules and principles illustrated in the fol- lowing pages, are chiefly drawn from that rich and copious volume, Austin's Chironomia,* — but mod- ified as experience has suggested, and adapted to the details of practical instruction. * The above work on Gesture, and that of Dr. Rush on the Voice, afford the fullest instruction in Oratory, that has yet been presented in the English, if not in any other language. 12 PREFACE. The Debate which forms the Appendix, is ex- tracted from the Elocutionist of Mr. James Sheri- dan Knowles, the author of Virginius. It has been annexed to the principles of gesture, stated in the body of the work, as furnishing appropriate mat- ter for the practical application of them, in the exercise of declamation. The animated style which pervades this debate, renders it a highly interest- ing and useful form of practice to young speakers. The Debate was originally prepared by Mr. Knowles, for the use of a juvenile class of his own pupils. A few passages, containing personal allusions, have, therefore, been omitted in the re- print, with the view of adapting it to the pur- poses of general practice. 53 £ RUDIMENTS OF GESTURE. The appropriate expression of sentiment implies, in addition to the exercise of voice, an effect produced on the corporeal frame, — an action which is the visible accompaniment of speech, and which affects, in particular, the features and the limbs, and, some- times, the whole body. This action is not arbitrary, but natural ; and its absence produces a cold, formal, rigid, or mechanical manner. Its first degree exists in the involuntary motion of the muscles of the face, in the change of the color of the countenance, and in the involuntary actions of starting and moving, which accompany various states of feeling. Its second de- gree is that in which we use gesture, in a manner more or less voluntary, as an additional expression of meaning, or feeling, imparted by the voice. Gesture is vivid and frequent in the expression of imaginative and excited states of mind. Hence it abounds in the period of childhood, and among na- tions much influenced by imagination, in the forma- tion of character. It differs in degree, for the same reason, in different individuals, according to their tendency to emotion and to imaginative expression, or the reverse. But it is natural, to some extent, to 3 26 ATTITUDE. all human beings, as the language of feeling. It is the necessary result of the connexion existing be- tween mind and body, and of their mutual sympa- thetic action. Of the necessity or of the value of gesture, indeed, it is hardly'necessary to speak. It is an aid and an impulse to the mind, both of the speaker and of his auditory ; and the question is not whether it should exist, but how it may be regulated so as to impart appropriate meaning and emotion, — how it may be called forth, when likely to be suppressed by embarrassment, or withheld by morbid apathy, or neglected through inattention, — how it may be guard- ed from excess or extravagance, or mechanical mo- notony, and acquire a mentarcharacter. INTRODUCTORY MOVEMENTS. Delivery consists of two parts ; — one addressing the ear, through the voice; and the other, the eye, by action or gesture. The latter implies a certain attitude of body, as essential to it ; and hence the necessity of attending, in the first instance, to the attitude or position in which the speaker presents himself to the eye. The characteristics of good attitude are firmness, freedom, appropriateness > and grace. It becomes necessary here to advert to the manner in which young speakers introduce themselves to their audience ; the introductory bow being seldom what it should be, a salutation of respect, actually addressed to the assembly, but commonly a very awkward attempt at a bow, and one so performed as INTRODUCTORY MOVEMENTS. 27 to cast down the eyes towards the floor of the room, or the feet of the speaker, and to show not his coun- tenance, but the crown of his head. A bow, or any- other mark of respect, (except prostration,) has no meaning in it, unless the eye of the individual who performs it is directed to the eyes of those to whom it is addressed. In figure 1, of the engraved illustrations, the round- ing of the shoulders, and the dangling or dropping of the arms, are added to the above fault. The opposite and somewhat comic effects of the fault of bending the body mechanically, drawing in. the elbows, and turning up the face, are represented in figure 2. The proper form of the bow, with its moderate curve, is illustrated in figure 3. The common faults of the bow and other prepara- tory movements, are feebleness^ constraint, embar- rassment, impropriety, and awkwardness* POSITION OF THE FEET.t General Remarks. It is of the utmost conse- quence to observe a correct position of the feet, not * In most dialogues, and in some very animated pieces of poetry, the commencing bow should be ommitted, as unfavorable to the full effect of the dramatic or poetic character of the delivery, which, in some instances, requires abruptness. t Much of the effect of gesture depends on the attitude in which it is performed, and from which it seems to spring. Attitude is, in fact, a preliminary to gesture, and as the character of attitude de- pends chiefly on the position of the feet : this last mentioned point be- comes the first in order, in practical lessons on gesture. 28 ATTITUDE. merely because an incorrect position is ungraceful, but because the easy and natural movement of every part of the body depends on the feet being properly placed. Awkward and constrained movements of the feet, and rigid, unseemly action, are inseparable from a bad attitude. An easy and graceful position, on the contrary, favors appropriate and becoming movement, and tends to render it habitual. The following sentiments, quoted from Austin's Chironomia, may be serviceable in this place, as in- troductory to details. ' The gracefulness of motion in the human frame, consists in the facility arm security with which it is executed ; and the grace of any position consists in the facility with which it can be varied. Hence, in the standing figure, the position is graceful when the weight of the body is principally supported on one leg, while the other is so placed as to be ready to re- lieve it promptly and without effort.' 'The foot which sustains the principal weight must be so placed, that a perpendicular line, let fall from the pit of the neck, shall pass through the heel of that foot. Of course, the centre of gravity of the body is, for the time, in that line ; whilst the other foot assists merely for the purpose of keeping the body balanced in the position, and of preventing it from tottering.' [See figs. 10th, 11th, 12th, 13th.] 1 In the various positions of the feet, care is to be taken that the grace which is aimed at be attended with simplicity. The position of the orator is equally removed from the awkwardness of the rustic, with toes turned in, and knees bent, and from the affecta- POSITION OF THE FEET. 29 tion of the dancing-master, whose position runs to the opposite extreme. The orator is to adopt such positions only as consist with manly and simple grace. The toes are to be moderately turned out- ward, but not to be constrained ; the limbs are to be disposed so as to support the body with ease, and to admit of flowing and graceful movement. The sus- taining foot is to be planted firmly ; the leg braced, but not contracted : the other foot and limb must press lightly, and be held relaxed, so as to be ready for immediate change and action.' ' In changing the positions of the feet, the motions are to be made with the utmost simplicity, and free from the parade and sweep of dancing. The speaker must advance, retire, or change, almost impercepti- bly ; and it is to be particularly observed that changes should not be too frequent. Frequent change gives the idea of anxiety or instability, both of which are unfavorable. Errors. The common faults in the posi- tion of the feet, are, 1st. That of resting on both feet equally } which gives the whole frame a set and rigid attitude. [See Figs. 4 and 5.] 2. Pointing the toes straight forward, which, when combined with the preceding fault, forms the climax of awkwardness and squareness of attitude, and, even when unac- companied by any other error, has the bad effect of exposing the speaker's side, instead 3* 30 ATTITUDE* of his full front, and consequently assimila- ting all his movements and gestures to those of attack in fencing. [See Fig. 6.] 3. Placing the feet too close to one another, which gives the whole body a feeble and con- strained appearance, and destroys the possi- bility of energy in gesture. [See Fig. 7.] 4. The placing of the feet too widely distant, and parallel to each other, which gives the speaker's attitude a careless and slovenly air. [See Fig. 8.} 5. The placing of the feet at too ivide a dis- tance from each other, but with the one in ad- vance of the other. This is the attitude of as- sumption, or of a boasting and overbearing manner. It would be appropriate in the swag- gering air of Pistol or of Captain Bobadil. It is only through gross inattention that it can be exhibited, as it notunfrequently is, on oc- casions of public declamation. [See Fig. 9.] Rule. The body should rest so fully on one foot, that the other could be raised, for a moment, without loss of balance ; the toes turn- ed outward ; the feet neither more nor less distant than a space equal to the broadest part of the foot; and the relative position of the feet such, that if two lines were drawn on the floor, under the middle of the sole of each THE FEET. 31 foot, from the toes to the heel, the lines icould intersect each other under the middle of the heel of that foot which is placed behind the other. [See Figs. 10, 11, 12, 13.] This general rule is applied in detail as follows. The recitation of poetry, as it gives scope to vivid expression, and sometimes requires actual delineation or personation, is not confined to any one, or even to a few, attitudes. The position of the feet, therefore, is various, as accommodated to the different passions or emotions introduced in the piece which is spoken. Declamation, or the delivery of common speeches in prose, does not admit of any degree of representation ; the attitude is that of self-possession, and of energetic or persuasive address ; and the positions of the feet are limited to the following : 1. The first position of the right foot, — at the distance and in the relative situation mentioned be- fore; the right foot is planted firmly, and supports the weight of the body; the left touches the floor but slightly, rising a little at the heel.* [See Fig. 10.] 2. The second position of the right foot keeps the same distance and relative situation of the feet as in the first, (except a slight outward inclination of the left heel, for firm and easy support.) The weight of the body, however, is on the left foot, which is, of course, firmly placed; while the right foot rests * This position is denominated the second, in the Chironomia. But as it is usually the first m the commencement of a speech, the natural order would seem to present it as the first in instruction and exercise. 32 ATTITUDE. lightly on the floor, without rising from it. [See Fig. 11.] 3. The first position of the left foot* is exactly as the first of the right ; — the left taking the place of the right, and the right that of the left. [See Fig. 12.] 4. The second position of the left is the same, in all respects, as the second of the right; substituting the left for the right, and the right for the left. [See Fig. 13.] Note. — The observance of these different positions will produce a firm, easy, and graceful attitude, appropriate to earnest and natu- ral delivery. In complying with rules, however , there should be no anxiety about measured exactness, and no appearance of studied pre- cision. Force and freedom, and general propriety of manner, are the main points to be aimed at; grace is but a subordinate consid- eration ; and strict accuracy is apt to become but a mechanical ex- cellence. MOVEMENT OF THE FEET. Remarks. An occasional change of the position of the feet, is a natural and necessary relief to the speaker, in the delivery of a speech or piece of con- siderable length ; it associates, also, in an appropriate and agreeable manner, with the introduction of a * Attitude as affected by the advanced foot. The ancients restrict- ed their orators to the advance of the left foot. From this rule modern practice deviates entirely. The best speakers, though they occasionally advance the left foot, give the preference to the right, and adhere undeviatingly to the rule, that when the left hand is used in the principal gesture, the left foot must be advanced; and when the principal gesture is made with the right hand, that the right foot should be advanced, unless the use of the retired hand is very brief, and soon to give place to the advanced. Austin^ Chiron*. THE FEET. * 33 new train of thought, or a new topic of discourse ; and it is the instinctive expression of energy, warmth, and liveliness of manner. Without movement, the speaker's body becomes, as it were, a mass of inani- mate matter. Motion, when carried to excess, how- ever, becomes childish in its effect, as it substitutes restlessness for animation. Errors. The principal errors in movement are, 1. The pointing of the foot straight forward, and neglecting to turn the toes outward in advancing, by which the speaker's body is partly swung round, so as to expose the side, instead of the full front, and to produce the awkward position and gesture mentioned before, under the * second error ? in position. [See Fig. 6.] 2. Moving sidelong, and, perhaps, with a sliding motion, instead of stepping freely for- ward. The whole manner of this change resembles that of a preparatory movement in dancing, but has no natural connexion with speaking. 3. Advancing with a full walking step, ap- proaching nearly to a stride, and producing the swaggering gait mentioned in speaking of the c fifth error ' in position. 4. A short, feeble, and shuffling step, as if 34 MOVEMENT. the speaker were half resisting, and half yielding to, an external force applied to push him forward. 5. A set and formal change of position, ren- dered very apparent, and wearing the air of artificial and studied manner. 6. An ill-timed movement, not connected with the sense of what is spoken, but made at random. 7. A motionless and lifeless posture, throw- ing a constrained and rigid, or very dull as- pect over the speaker's whole manner. 8. An incessant and restless shifting of the feet, and perhaps a perpetual gliding from side to side, which is unavoidably associated with childishness of manner. Rule. The movement of the feet should always be performed with the toes turned out- ward, (pointing towards the corner of the room, nearly;) and the movement should be positively advancing or retiring, and not in- termediate, unless in actual dialogue, or when a single speaker personates two, in imagina- ry dialogue. The step should always be free, and should terminate with a firm plant- ing of the foot, but should never be wide : half a common walking step is sufficient for change in posture ; and, in changing position, THE FEET. 35 that foot which follows the other, should be preserved at its usual distance from it ; so that, when the step is finished, the feet are still found at their former distance, and not drawn close to each other, as sometimes in- advertently happens in shifting position. The motion of the feet should be carefully timed, so as to occur at the commencement of the parts or divisions of a speech or dis- course, at the introduction of new and dis- tinct thoughts, or in the expression of forcible or lively emotion. The true time of move- ment is in exact coincidence with emphasis, and falls appropriately on the accented syl- lable of the emphatic word. The voice and the bodily frame are thus kept in simulta- neous action with the mind. Movement, so performed, never obtrudes itself on the at- tention, but becomes a natural part of the whole delivery. The changes of position should always be made, (except only the retiring movement, at the close of a para- graph, or of a division of the subject,) during the act of speaking, and not at the pauses; and even the change of posture which neces- sarily follows the bow, and opens the delivery of the piece, should not be made before be- ginning to speak, but along with the utter- 36 MOVEMENT. ance of the commencing clause. All changes made before speaking, or in the intervals of speech, become apparent and formal, and particularly all preparatory motions that seem to adjust or fix the attitude of the speaker, and produce the effect of suspend- ing the attention of the audience. The fre- quency of movement depends on the spirit of the composition. An animated address, or a declamatory harangue, requires frequent movement. In a grave discourse, on the contrary, the movements are made more sel- dom. Poetry requires, from its vividness of emotion, many changes of position ; prose, from its more equable character, compara- tively few. The changes of attitude, which occur in poetic recitation, are varied according to the kind of emo- tion expressed : those which generally occur in dec- lamation, or the delivery of speeches, are the ad- vancing, for the bolder or more earnest parts of an address ; and the retiring, for the more calm and deliberate passages. Pieces that do not commence with the manner of haughtiness or surprise, natural- ly begin with the first position of the right, as bring- ing the speaker near to his audience, to facilitate communication, or as expressing most naturally the emotion implied in the language. Pride, disdain, or scorn, and the manner of astonishment or wonder, THE FEET. 37 if they occur in the opening of a speech, would in- cline more naturally to the second position ; as these feelings erect and incline backward the head and the whole frame of the speaker. Of the former style we should have an example in the opening of Mark Antony's funeral oration over the body of Caesar ; 5 Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears.' and of the latter, in the commencing strain of Cati- line's speech to the senate, after his sentence : 1 Banish'd from Rome ! What 's banish'd, but set free From daily contact with the things I loathe 1 ' The advancing and the retiring movements, when considered in detail, are merely transitions from one to another of the positions of the feet, exemplified in the plates. They require attention chiefly to one point, — that every movement must be made by a change of the position of the foot which does not support the body. Confusion, in this respect, some- times costs the speaker a good many unnecessary motions, which are at variance with dignity and freedom of manner, and produce merely a vacillation about the feet, rather than an actual change of place or posture. To prevent such faults, it may be useful to advert to a mechanical view of the changes which take place in advancing or retiring. — 1st. Advanc- ing: To advance from the first position of the right foot* nothing is necessary but to pass directly, and without the intervention of any change, into the first of the left. Errors and hesitancy arise from throw- ing in some intervening movement. To advance * See engravings, figs. 10, 11, 12, 13. 4 38 MOVEMENT. from the first position of the left is, in like manner, nothing but a simple transition to the first position of the right. The advance from the second position of the right foot, is made simply by passing into the first position of the same foot ; and so of the corres- ponding change of the left. — 2d. Retiring : To re- tire from the first position of either foot, is merely to drop into the second of the same foot. To retire from the second position of either foot, seems a more complicated movement; but it is nothing more than to pass directly into the second position of the oppo- site foot.* POSITION AND MOVEMENT OF THE LEGS. Remarks. The general air and expression of the whole body depend much on the position of the legs ; as we may observe by adverting to the feeble limbs of infancy and of old age, the rigid and square attitude of men who follow laborious occupations, or the artificial display of limb sometimes acquired at the dancing-school, or exemplified on the stage. A firm, free, and graceful position of the limbs, is natural to most human beings, till the influence of awkward custom, or of imperfect health, has destroy- ed or impaired it. Correct and appropriate posture, therefore, becomes an important point in preparatory practice and training, intended to aid the formation of habits of rhetorical delivery. * These changes should be repeatedly practised by the learner, referring at the same time to the plates. THE LEGS. 39 Errors in the position of the legs occur in the following forms : 1. A rigid and inflexible posture, entirely at variance with freedom and grace ; causing the limbs to resemble supporting posts, rather than parts of the human frame ; and inter- fering with the force, ease, and gracefulness of gesture. This fault is partly caused by the wrong position and movement of the feet, mentioned first among the errors regarding the feet. [See Figs. 4, 5, 7.] 2. A feeble, though perhaps slight bending of the knees, which gives the general atti- tude an appearance of timid inefficiency ; and which, when accompanied, as it often is, by a sinking and rising motion, seeming to keep time to the beat of the arm in gesture, pro- duces a childishness of mien, which throws over the speaker's whole delivery an air of silliness. [See Fig. 14.] 3. A fault very prevalent in public decla- mation, arises from overlooking the fact, that a free and natural attitude requires the knee of the leg lohich is not supporting the xc eight of the body, to fall into the natural bend of freedom and rest. The neglect of this point, — a neglect which very naturally arises from general embarrassment or constraint, — has a 40 MOVEMENT. very unfavorable effect on the whole attitude: in the c first' position, it causes, by its neces- sary action on the frame, a slight, but un- graceful throwing up of the shoulder, on the side which supports the body ; [See Fig. 15 ;] and in the ' second • position, it partly with- draws the speaker's body from his audience, by inclining it backward or too much upimrd, and by erecting the head in the manner of in- difference or disregard. [See Fig. 16.] The influence of this attitude is quite at variance with the speaker's aim in delivery, which is to con- vince or persuade ; the effect of which, on his atti- tude, would be to incline it somewhat forward, as in the natural manner of earnest address. No error, apparently so slight, is attended with so many bad consequences as this ; nothing tends so much to give the speaker the air of speaking at his audience, rather than to them ; yet no fault is more common in the declamation of school and college exhibitions. All that is objectionable in this attitude, however, would be done away, by the speaker merely allowing the knee of the leg which does not support the body, to drop into its natural bend. Other errors in the position of the legs, are involved in the faulty positions and movements of the feet ; such as the placing of the legs too close or too widely distant from each other. But whatever was men- tioned, on this point, concerning the feet, may be applied by the learner himself, to the placing of the limbs. [See Figs. 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9.] THE TRUNK. 41 Rule. The leg tohich supports the body, should be firm and braced, but not strained; and the leg which does not support the body, should bend freely at the knee. [See Figs. 10, 11, 12, 13.] POSITION AND MOVEMENT OF THE TRUNK. Remarks. The actions of a human being differ from the motions of a machine, chiefly in that sym- pathy of the entire frame, which makes action appear to proceed from the whole surface, and terminate in the arm, the hand,* or the foot. No gesture, therefore, seems to have life or energy, unless the whole body partake in it, by a moderate, yet perceptible swaying or yielding to accommodate it, and a general impulse of the muscles to enforce it, or impart to it additional and sympathetic energy. Gesture, destitute of such aid, becomes narrow, angular, and mechanical. It is of the utmost consequence, then, that the position and general bearing of the body should be free and unconstrained. The following observations are quoted from the work mentioned before,— Austin's Chironomia. 'The trunk of the body is to be well balanced, and sustained erect upon the supporting limb. What- ever the speaker's position may be, he should present himself, as duintilian expresses it, cequo pectore — with the breast fully fronting his audience, — and never in the fencing attitude of one side exposed. What Cicero calls the virilis flexus laterum — the 4* 42 MOVEMENT. manly inclination of the sides, — should also be at- tended to ; for, without this position, the body will seem awkward and ill-balanced. The inclination of the sides withdraws the upper part of the body from the direction of the sustaining limb, and inclines it the other way, whilst it throws the lower part of the body strongly on the line of the supporting foot. In this position, the figure forms that gentle curve or waving line which painters and statuaries consider as appropriate to grace. [See Figs. 10, 11, 12, 13.} 'The gesture of the arms and hands must receive a slight accompanying movement of the trunk, and not proceed from it as from a rigid log. Whilst care is taken to avoid affected and ridiculous contortions, there must be a manly and free exertion of the mus- cles of the whole body, the general consent of which, is indispensable to graceful action.' Errors. The faults in the management of the trunk, are the following : 1. A rigid and square position , connected with, and in part proceeding from, errors in the position and movement of the feet and legs. [See ' Errors/ regarding these particu- lars, and Figs. 4 and 5 in the engravings, already referred to.] This position lacks the natural yielding or inclina- tion of the sides, and by destroying the sympathetic action of the muscles of the frame, seems to discon- nect the arm from the body, causing it to resemble an extraneous object accidentally fastened to the THE TRUNK. 43 trunk, and producing, in the movements of the arm in gesture, the style of motion exemplified in the actions of an ill-contrived automaton, or in the moving of the handle of a pump. [See Fig. 4.] 2. Exposing the side, somewhat as in a fencing posture. [See Fig. 6.] This attitude gives an unmeaning and offensive force to gestures made in front of the body, and com- municates an awkward and painful twist to all ges- tures which fall in an outward direction. The fault of position now alluded to, arises, sometimes, from the habit of addressing the different portions of an audi- ence separately, and by turns, which is itself a great impropriety, unless on special occasions requiring it. The error arises from the placing of the feet, and in the direction given to them in movement, — pointing the toes straight forward from the speaker's body, in the manner which would be exemplified in the natural attitude of an Indian. 3. Allowing the body to incline too far for- ward] in a stooping or lounging manner. This fault takes away all manly dignity and energy from the speaker's appearance, and impairs the general effect of delivery. 4. Keeping the body too erect, and inclining it away from the audience. The bad effects of this fault were described in con- nexion with the %third ' error in the position of the legs. [See Fig. 16.] 44 MOVEMENT. 5. A theatrical protruding of the body, with the air of display. [See Fig. 17.] This fault coincides, in most instances, with the wide position of the feet formerly objected to, as pro- ducing an overbearing and swaggering mien. 6. A leaning over to the side on which ges- ture is made. This fault presents the speaker very awkwardly to the eye, — somewhat in the manner of figures in the drawings of young children who have not yet ac- quired a perfect idea of a perpendicular line, and who represent all objects in a picture as if in the act of falling. The apparent want of security and firm- ness in this attitude, enfeebles to the eye every action of the speaker^ arm. [See Fig. 18.] Rule. The trunk, or main part of the body, should always be in a firm, but free and graceful posture, exposing the full front, and not the side ; avoiding equally rigidity and display, and yielding to every impulse of gesture. [See Figs. 10, 11, 12, 13.] POSITION AND MOVEMENT OF THE HEAD AND THE COUNTENANCE. Remarks. The bearing of the head decides the general mien of the body, as haughty and conde- scending, as spiritless, dejected, embarrassed, — or as THE HEAD. 45 free from the influence of such feelings, and wearing an easy, self-possessed, and unassuming expression, arising from tranquillity and serenity of mind. The first-mentioned of these states of feeling inclines the head upward; the second causes it to drop, or keeps it fixed by constraint ; the last preserves it from these extremes, and allows it an easy and natural motion. The recitation of poetry may, in particular instances, authorize or require a very erect, or a drooping pos- ture of the head; but declamation, or public speaking, implies a state of self-command, a rational consider- ation of effect, and an avoiding of the appearances of extreme emotion. In the latter exercise, therefore, the general air of the head bespeaks respect for the audience, mingling with a just self-respect, and avoids alike a lofty or a submissive carriage. The eyes and the other features correspond to this manner. Errors in the position of the head are as follows : 1. A distant and lofty, or indifferent air, throwing back the head, or carrying it too erect. [See Fig. 16.] This fault is generally unintentional, and arises, in many instances, from an error in the posture of the limbs, as mentioned before. 2. A bashful drooping of the head, accom- panied with downcast eyes. This manner takes away the effect of delivery. As the mind always appears to follow the eye, the 46 MOVEMENT. speaker's attention seems not to be directed to his audience. 3. The head remaining fixed and still, un- der the influence of embarrassment and con- straint. This fault is much aggravated, if attended, as it usually is, by a vague wandering, or a motionless abstraction of the eye, and, perhaps, an occasional working of the eye-brows. The effect of these manifestations of uneasiness is, of course, very un- favorable to the influence of the speaker's delivery. 4. An objectionable movement of the muscles of the countenance. This fault sometimes assumes the form of an un- meaning smile, or an equally unmeaning frown; sometimes, of too much excited play of the features, with an incessant and inappropriate turning or staring of the eyes ; and sometimes, in vehement declamation, an ungraceful protrusion of the lips. Rule. The head should neither be hung bashfully down, nor carried haughtily erect: it should turn easily but not rapidly, from side to side; the eyes being directed generally to those of the persons who are addressed, but not fastening particularly on individuals. The abstraction of the mind, implied in the appropriate recitation of some pieces in po- GESTURE. 47 etry, may, however, render it inconsistent to give to delivery the air of address ; as, for example, in the reciting of any passage in which a distant or imaginary scene is called up vividly to the thoughts. The eyes should, in such cases, be directed away from those of the audience, and be fixed on vacancy. All inappropriate and ungraceful play or working of the features, should be carefully avoided. GESTURE. POSITION AND MOVEMENT OF THE HAND. Remarks. The hand is, in most forms of action, the great organ of the mind. Its power of expres- sion in communication, when used alone, or accom- panied by speech, is peculiar and extensive. The position or action of the hand invites, repels, refuses, rejects, implores, or threatens, more forcibly than even the voice or the countenance. The language and meaning of gesture lie in the hand ; and these cannot be expressed without an appropriate use of this organ. The arm is, in gesture, but the inferior agent to move and exert the hand, the great instru- ment of all expression addressed to the eye. The tones of the voice, and the action of the features are, no doubt, the chief vehicles of meaning. But next to these comes the hand, as an important agent in delivery; and, in some kinds of emotion, it even takes the precedence of the voice : — in all those pas- 48 GESTURE. sions, for instance, which by their excess tend to render the tongue mute. In unimpassioned speaking, the gesture of the hand is not so prominent ; but it still serves a useful purpose in accompanying, aid- ing, and enforcing the impressions produced by the voice. It helps to concentrate the action of the senses towards the objects which are presented to the mind, and, though a subordinate, is yet an indis- pensable, instrument of appropriate and impressive delivery. Errors. The chief faults in the position of the hand, are, 1 . A feeble gathering in of the fingers to- wards the palm. [See Fig. 19.] The proper use of the hand is thus lost. As the fingers are bent in, in this position, they hide the palm, — a part which bears the same reference to the use of the hand in gesture, that the countenance does to the head. Without the exhibition of the features, there can be no meaning gathered from the view of the head ; so without the exposure of the palm, there is no expression in the hand. The open hand is essential to most gestures, on the principle that such a position, and no other, harmonizes with the idea of communication. The error now object- ed to will appear in its true light, if we advert to the difference between the acts of giving and receiving, as they influence the position of the hand. Suppose, for a moment, the case of two persons in the atti- tudes relatively, of giving and receiving alms. The THE HAND. 49 individual who receives the gift, holds his hand in a hollow position, for the sake of receiving and retain- ing what is bestowed, while the individual who be- stows, necessarily opens the hand, to convey to that of the other the gift which is conferred. The posi- tion, in the former case, which is nearly that now mentioned as a fault, is that of reception, and cannot be appropriate in delivery, which is an act of com- munication or of transferring. The hand partly closed has no speaking expression to the eye : to produce this effect, it must be opened fully and freely. [See Fig. 20.] 2. A fiat and square position of the hand, with the fingers straight and close. [See Figs. 21, and 22.] This position has to the eye the effect of the me- chanical placing of a piece of board, rather than the appropriate appearance of a human hand, — from which the idea of pliancy can never be naturally separated. The awkward air of this position is much increased, if the thumb is placed close to the fingers. [See Fig. 22.] The want of separation in the placing of the fingers, has an influence nearly as unfavorable as that of allowing the hand to be partly closed. 3. A half pointing position of the fingers, which' has neither the definiteness of point- ing, nor the speaking expression of the open hand. [See Fig. 23.] 5 50 GESTURE. This fault savors of studied and artificial grace, whilst every point of detail in gesture should be characterised by a natural and manly freedom. 4. An Indefinite spreading of the fingers, which lacks energy and expression. [See Fig. 24.] This style of position has, unavoidably, a vague and feeble character, which impairs the effect of gesture, and seems to take away the expression of life from the hand. 5. A displayed position of the fingers, dif- fering from the correct position, by inclining the little finger outward and downward, in- stead of inward ; and parting it too widely from the other fingers. [See Fig. 25.] This position seems studied, finical, and affected; it produces the effect of caricature, and, from its mincing style, is unavoidably associated with feeble- ness. 6. Too frequent use of the repressing ges- ture which turns the palm downward. [See Fig. 26.] This gesture is appropriate in particular descriptive passages of poetry, but is unsuitable for prose, unless in a highly imaginative style. 7. Too frequent use of the pointing gesture, THE HAND. 51 which gives an unnecessary peculiarity and emphasis to manner. This position of the hand is appropriate and ex- pressive in particular allusions and emphatic descrip- tions. But its propriety in such circumstances, sug- gests equally its unsuitableness for a prevailing gesture. There are three faults very common in the manner of pointing ; all of which render the fre- quency of the gesture more striking and disagreeable. The Jirst of these is the gathering up, and pressing tight with the thumb, all the fingers but the one which points ; and the pointing finger projected perfectly straight. There is a rigidness of expres- sion in this style, which is unfavorable in its effect on the eye. [See Fig. 27.] The second fault is the opposite one, of all the fingers bending feebly inward, and the thumb scarcely, if at all, touching them ; the fore-finger not projecting sufficiently to suit the purpose of pointing. [See Fig. 28.] The third fault is that of letting the hand droop from the wrist downward ; the fingers generally, and the thumb spreading to a great distance, and the fore-finger rising at the middle. [See Fig. 29.] 8. Placing the hand edgeways, with the fingers straight and close. [See Fig. 30.] The motion produced in consequence of this posi- tion, is like that of an instrument for cutting, but possesses none of the appropriate effects of delivery. 9. Clenching the hand, in the expression of great energy. [See Fig. 31.] 52 GESTURE. This form of action may be natural and appropri- ate in the intense excitement produced by some of the boldest flights of poetry, in which the presence of others is forgotten by the speaker, when he becomes entirely rapt in an imaginary scene of vehement passion. But it is utterly inappropriate in public discourse or address, which always implies the speaker's consciousness of his auditory ; a just re- spect to whom should forbid all indecorous action, all approach to bullying attitudes, and, on the same general principle, all extravagant expressions of ex- citement. Rule. The position of the hand in the re- citation of poetry, depends on the emotion which is expressed in the language of the piece ; and the intensity of feeling which is peculiar to poetry gives rise to varied attitude and action, and, consequently; to various positions, of the hand. But in declamation, or speaking in the form of address, variety is not generally so important to the effect of delivery. Energy and propriety become, in such exercises, the chief objects of attention ; and although there are some prose pieces en- tirely imaginative or romantic in character, and occasional passages in most speeches which produce a strong emotion, yet the general style of a public address may be considered as differing widely from the man- THE HAND. 53 ner of poetic excitement, and inclining to the plainer forms of gesture, and consequently to the ordinary positions of the hand, when used for enforcing sentiment, rather than for expressing effects produced on the imagina- tion. Pointing, and other varieties of gesture, may be occasionally proper in declamation ; but the prevailing action should be that of earnest assertion and persuasive appeal, which are expressed with the open hand. The appropriate position of the hand, for the common purposes of speaking, implies that it is fully open, with an expression com- bining firmness, freedom, and grace; the palm sloping moderately from the wrist towards the fingers, and from the thumb to- wards the fourth or little finger ; — avoiding thus the flat position mentioned among the errors on this point ; the thumb freely part- ed from the fingers, but not strained ; the fore-finger nearly straight, and moderately parted from the other fingers ; the two fingers in the middle of the hand, close together, and inclining somewhat inward ; the fourth finger parted at some distance from the others, and inclining more inwardly than any. [See Fig. 32.] This position of the hand, when minutely analysed, 54 GESTURE, may, at first view, seem complex and comparatively difficult ; but the difficulty is more apparent than real ; for it is the natural posture of the hand, in reference to the common and habitual actions of life ; the fore-finger inclining to a straighter and firmer position than the other fingers, because more con- stantly in exercise, and therefore rendered more rigid ; the second and third fingers inclining somewhat in- ward, as not possessing the force and firmness of the fore-finger, and keeping close together, as they naturally do in the common actions of grasping, lift- ing, &c; and the fourth finger inclining more in- wardly than any, because the feeblest of the fingers. The parting of the fore-finger and the little finger from the rest, is essential to the idea of the hand pre- sented fully and freely open.* The embarrassment which young learners some- times feel in attempting a correct position Lof the hand, is partly owing to previous fixed habit, and partly to the slight difficulty of attending separately to the position of each finger, a difficulty exemplified when we try to do, at the same moment, a different action with each hand. A little practice and atten- tion are for the most part sufficient to obviate the difficulty alluded to. But if, in any instance, it should prove insuperable, the simple position of the open hand may be substituted ; avoiding only the flat posture, and the thumb close to the fingers. * One of the happiest illustrations of this natural point of pro- priety in taste, occurs in West's celebrated picture, ' Christ re- jected,' and may be traced in nearly every figure of that great production. THE ARM. 55 POSITION AND MOVEMENT OF THE ARM. Remarks. The freedom and force of gesture de- pend entirely on the appropriate action of the arm. The free play of the arm gives scope to gesture, which would otherwise be narrow, confined, and in- expressive. The elevated thoughts and grand images abounding in poetry, require a free, lofty, and en- ergetic sweep of the arm in gesture ; but speaking" which has persuasion for its object, is naturally characterised by a less commanding and less imagin- ative style of action. Reasoning, arguing, or inculcat- ing, in the usual manner of speech, requires chiefly enforcing or emphatic gesture. Poetry abounds so in variety of emotion, that the action which accom- panies the recitation of it, is frequent and forcible, and marked by vivid transitions, with a predomi- nance of gracefulness in the whole manner. The style of speaking adapted to prose, is more calm and moderate, and more plain in its character : coinciding thus with the tenor of thought and language which usually pervades prose composition. Action is the first, the simplest, and the most strik- ing expression of feeling. It cannot, therefore, be dispensed with, but at the risk of losing the natural animation of manner. Under the regulation of taste, it becomes a harmonious and powerful accompani- ment to speech, imparting additional force to lan- guage in all its forms, and aiding a full and clear conception of what is expressed. Gesture is not a mere matter of ornament, as it sometimes is supposed. 56 GESTURE. Its main object is force of impression : the beauty or grace which it imparts to delivery is but an inferior consideration. To the young learner, however, whose habits are yet forming, the cultivation of cor- rect and refined taste in regard to gesture, is a matter of great importance ; and several of the following errors are mentioned as such, with a view to this consideration. Errors. The leading faults in the man- agement of the arm are the following : 1. A feeble and imperfect raising or fall- ing of the arm, and the allowing it to sink into an angle at the elbow. [See Figs. 6, 8, and others in which the elbow is angular.] This style of gesture has several bad effects, be- sides its angular form, which is objectionable to the eye, as associated with mechanical motion and pos- ture, rather than those of an animated being. It narrows and confines every movement of the arm, and prevents the possibility of free and forcible action, which can flow only from the whole arm fully, though gracefully, extended. 2. The opposite fault is that of an irregu- lar force which throws out the arm perfectly straight and rigid. [See Fig. 4.] This position of the arm has also an objectionable and mechanical aspect, at variance with the idea of a natural use of the human frame and its limbs. COMMON FAULTS. 57 3. The habitual performing of gesture in a line from the speaker's side. An occasional gesture of this sort may be proper ; but a constant use of it gives either a feeble or an ostentatious air to delivery, as the gesture happens to be made with more or less energy. 4. A horizontal swing of the arm, used in- variably. This action expresses negation appropriately, and may be occasionally employed for other purposes; but it lacks force for energy and emphasis, and if habitually used to the exclusion of other gestures, it renders the speaker's manner tame and ineffective. 5. A want of distinction in the use of ges- ture, in regard to the lines in which it termi- nates, the space through which it passes, and the direction in which it moves. This indiscriminate use of gesture interferes, of course, with its appropriate expression ; substituting one style of action for another, and serving, some- times, no other purpose than to manifest the anima- tion of the speaker, instead of imparting energy to meaning or emotion. [See Rule 2, for distinction of gesture.] 6. The improper use of a poetic or roman- tic style of gesture, in the delivery of a prose speech or discourse. [See Rule 2.] 58 GESTURE. This style is as inappropriate as would be the reading of prose with the tones of poetry, and sacri- fices the manly efFect of simplicity and directness, for a false excitement of fancy. 7. A florid redundancy of gesture, produc- ing incessant action and change of posture. The effect of this fault is to impart a restless, un- meaning, and puerile activity of manner, which is inconsistent with deep feeling or grave thought. 8. The opposite error is that of standing motionless and statue-like, in every limb. This fault gives a dull, heavy, and morbid air to delivery, and deprives the train of thought expressed in the composition, of its natural efFect on the mind. A clear perception of meaning, or a true interest in the subject of what is spoken, is justly expected to awaken the intellect of the speaker, and animate him to activity of feeling. 9. The fault of an arbitrary and studied variety of action. To avoid deadness and monotony it is not neces- sary to assume any emotion not authorized by the sense of what is uttered. Variety of style is not always called for, as we may observe in the appro- priate delivery of a long strain of vehement invective, in which the chief expression is that of reiterated force; or as we may observe in a connected train of calm thought or reasoning on a single point. The COMMON FAULTS. 59 author of the composition is on all occasions ac- countable for the transitions of feeling; and the speaker is at fault only when he obviously omits their expression. A continuance of moderate and gentle action in persuasion, forms, sometimes, the very eloquence of delivery. All action, which does not spring directly from emotion expressed in the piece which is spoken, is unnatural and offensive ; and the more sprightly and varied its character, the worse is its effect. 10. The opposite error is that of using but one or two gestures, which perpetually recur in all pieces, and in all passages, how differ- ent soever their style and expression may naturally be. There is a dryness and inappropriateness about this manner, which always renders it mechanical and wearisome, and sometimes absurd in its applica- tion to sense. 11. Gestures performed in a manner which is regulated by their supposed gracefulness, rather than their connexion with meaning. Grace is a negative rather than a positive quality of gesture; its proper effect is to regulate, chasten, and refine. Action, if just, is called for from other considerations than those of beauty or ornament — - from the natural demands of forcible and warm emotion : it does not suggest or create a single move- ment which would not otherwise exist. The action 60 GESTURE. which energy has elicited, grace is to preserve from awkwardness. Beyond this point, true grace ceases to exist. 12. The most childish of all faults is that of imitative gesture, in which the speaker represents objects or actions by pantomimic motions. The distinct and vivid conceptions produced by the recitation of poetry, may sometimes identify the imagination of the speaker so entirely with the forms which the poet has called up to the mind, that the action of sympathy passes into that of assimilation ; and, in lively and humorous emotion, actual imita- tion, judiciously indulged, is natural and appropriate. But not so in prose addresses, on serious occasions, which imply a full self-possession and a becoming dignity on the part of the speaker, with a constant regard to his audience. Imitative action in such circumstances is still more trivial, indecorous, or absurd than it would be in private conversation. 13. The want of the observance of time in gesture, which seems to disjoint the action, and separate it from the expression of the voice. A gesture made before or after the emphatic word to which it naturally belongs, is entirely out of place. The moment when a given action must come to its acme, or to its closing 'movement, is precisely that of littering the accented syllable of the emphatic word. The impulse given to the frame by the ener- COMMON FAULTS. 61 gy of emphasis, being exactly at this point, whatever motion of the arm is to accompany it, must fall, (if performed naturally,) in strict coincidence with it. Hence the necessity of timing the preparatory movement of gesture so that the action of the arm shall neither outstrip nor lag behind the prominent force of voice. 14. The neglect of the preparatory move- ment of gesture , by which action is rendered either too abrupt or too confined. Every rhetorical action consists of two parts, a preparatory and a terminating movement. A gesture performed by the human arm must necessarily be so far complex ; as the hand cannot, with propriety of effect, or even with ease, spring at once to a given point. A deliberate and dignified manner of action, derives much of its character from the accommoda- tion of this preparatory motion to time and space ; performing it with due slowness ; avoiding hurry or jerking quickness ; allowing it also free scope for the natural and unconstrained play of the arm, and, sometimes for the appropriate sweep of the style of gesture. Quick, narrow, and angular movements render action mechanical and ineffective. This re- sult usually takes place in consequence of delaying gesture, till the emphasis occurring leaves no ade- quate time for forming a full gesture : a brief, hasty, and very limited movement is accordingly produced, in the manner that would necessarily exist if the arm were repressed by material obstacles. This fault sometimes arises, however, from the opposite 6 62 GESTURE. error of anticipating the gesture, and commencing and finishing the preparatory movement too soon ; the arm remaining in suspense for the occurrence of the appropriate word, and then suddenly dropping into the gesture. 15. Using, with unnecessary frequency ,the gesture of the left hand, and, sometimes, in alternation with that of the right. The left hand may be used exclusively, if the per- son or persons addressed are situated on the left of the speaker ; as by one of the speakers in a dialogue, or in an address which is so composed as to be di- rected to different portions or divisions of an audience, separately, as in the opening and closing addresses at an exhibition. The occasional use of the left hand in the delivery of a long speech, is a natural and agreeable change, in passing to a new topic of discourse, or entering on a new strain of emotion in recitation. [See Figs. 12, 13, 45, 49, 53.] But too frequent recourse to it, or to use it in the early part of an address, destroys its good effect; and to use it in an alternate and antithetic manner to correspond to the action of the right hand, has a studied and mechanical air of precision, unfavorable to the general style of delivery. 16. Too frequent use of both hands in the same form of gesture. The occasional use of both hands in warm and earnest appeal, in the expression of thoughts of vast extent, or in the intensity of poetic emotion, is fa- COMMON FAULTS. 63 vorable in its effect. [See Figs. 46, 50, 54.] But it should be reserved for such circumstances in delivery, and not introduced at random, or for imaginary variety. 17. Making gestures occasionally, and hy fits ; the hand dropping, at every interval of a few moments, to the side, and then rising anew to recommence action. The dropping of the hand has properly a meaning attached to it, as much as any other action used in speaking. It ought to indicate a long pause, and a temporary cessation of speech, as at the close of a paragraph or of a division of a subject ; or it may be used in recitation to denote grief, or any state of mind which quells the expression of gesture, or which for a time overpowers the feelings, and suspends the utterance. Generally, the hand should not drop at the conclusion of a gesture, but should either re- main for a few moments suspended, in the position in which the last gesture closed, or pass into the pre- paration for a gesture following. The use of the suspended hand appears natural and expressive, if we advert to its effect in conversation, or in appeal and argument. Gesture becomes, in this way, easy and unobtrusive, and ceases to attract the eye un- necessarily ; while the perpetual rising and falling of the hand in the irregular manner above alluded to, makes gesture unnecessarily conspicuous, and gives it an air of formality and parade. The abrupt discontinuance of gesture by tioitching back the hand } somewhat in the manner of sudden 64 GESTURE. alarm, has a very bad effect ; yet it is a fault to which young speakers are very prone from their em- barrassment of feeling. An upward or inward rebound of the hand, after the termination of the gesture itself, is often added to the frequent return of the hand to the side. Dropping the hand heavily, and allowing it to shut as it drops, is another fault of this class. The speaker's action is apt in consequence of such ges- tures to become a succession of flourishes of defiance, rather than of persuasive movements. 18. Using gesture without regard to the char- acter of the piece which is spoken, as plain or figurative, moderate or impassioned in style. A figurative style of language forms at once an ex- pression and an excitement of imagination, — or the active states of thought and feeling combined. It implies, therefore, a full activity of manner in the speaker. The intense action of mind influences by sympathy the corporeal frame, and impels to gesture; and the absence of action, in such circumstances, creates an unnatural disruption or separation of the mutual influences of mind and body. Narration and description in plain style, however, make no demand for gesture, in circumstances of ex- cited feeling, arising from other causes than those whicbexist in the language uttered at the moment, — a case which would be exemplified in the state- ment of a fact connected, but not immediately, with an injury or grievance, or in the commencement of a narration which is to terminate tragically, or in the description of the scene of a remarkable event. COMMON FAULTS. 65 Neither does common definition, statement, or ex- planation, or unimpassioned discussion call for ges- ture, unless in very moderate forms, and at intervals. Whatever is addressed purely to the understanding can derive little aid from rhetorical action. Feeling and imagination are the great springs of gesture ; and without these to impel it, it becomes lifeless and me- chanical. 19. Placing the hand upon the heart irregu- larly r , without attention to the nature of the feeling, or the circumstances of speech under which this action is appropriate. This gesture is applicable chiefly to the personal feelings of the speaker ; and, in a very vivid style of description, as in the recitation of poetry, it may be used in allusion to deep internal feeling, contrasted with that which is produced by external causes. Thus, it may appropriately occur in the second of the following lines : * Slight are the outward signs of evil thought ; Within, — within ; 't was there the spirit wrought.' But, generally, this form of action is erroneously applied to all cases of inward emotion, and sometimes even to the bare mention of the mind and heart, in contradistinction from the body. The errors in the mode of making this gesture are very numerous. 1st. Placing the hand on the pit of the stomach, instead of on the breast. [See Fig. 33.] 2d. Bringing the hand round towards the left side. [See Fig. 34.] 3d. Elevating the elbow as in the manner of playing on the violin. [See Fig. 35.1 6* 66 GESTURE. 4th. Hugging the body with the whole arm. [See Fig. 36.] 5th. Touching the breast with the thumb, in the manner of familiar and humorous representa- tion. [See Fig. 37.] 6. Pressing the tips of the fingers against the heart. [See Fig. 38.] 20. Making gesture across the speaker's body. This fault takes place in dialogue, when one speaker employs the hand which is farthest from the other speaker, instead of using that which is nearest to him. An awkward and feeble sort of gesture is thus produced ; or the speaker is compelled, irr using it, to turn his side to the audience, which destroys the effect of dialogue, by hindering the full view of the persons and countenances of the speakers. [See Fig. 39.*] When this fault occurs in single declamation, it has a very objectionable air of display and assump- tion, in its upward lines, and a want of speaking effect, in its lower movements. [See Figs. 41, and 42.] 21. An inward siceep of gesture, instead of an outward, downward, or upward movement. This fault has a left-handed air, which borders on the ridiculous, and adds no force to delivery. 22. Involuntary and inadvertent gestures^ arising from embarrassment and confusion. Faults of this class are too numerous and varied to admit of description in an elementary book. The principal are a Hoisting- and working of the fingers, * The correct position for dialogue is exemplified in figure 40. GENERAL RULES. 67 a dangling of the hand, an unintentional clenching of it, or thrusting it into the pocket, or resting it on the side, a sympathetic motion of the unemployed hand, in imitation, as it were, of the gestures made by the other hand. Rule I. The arm when not employed in preparing for the terminating act of gesture, should never exhibit an angle at the elbow, but be always freely extended, yet without the rigidness of a straight line ; a moderate sink- ing of the elbow being requisite to freedom and grace. [See Figs. 10, 11, 12, 13.] II. The various emotions of poetic recita- tion produce a great variety of action. But the usual manner of delivery in a speech or discourse, is naturally more restricted, as conversant with a less vivid state of feeling. The following are the principal gestures appropriate in address : 1. The descending,* used with great energy in strong assertion and vehement argumentation, in em- phatic declaration and forcible appeal. [See Figs. 43, 44, 45, 46.] 2. The horizontal* (the hand rising to a horizon- tal level with the shoulder,) appropriate in elevated and general thought or description, and in geograph- ical and historical allusions. [See Figs. 47, 48, 49, 50.] 3. The ascending,* (the hand rising to a level, * These designations arise from the position in which the gesture terminates, as may be seen by the plates. 68 GESTURE. nearly, with the head,) expressive of sublimity of thought or feeling. [See Figs. 51, 52, 53, 54.] From these three principal lines of gesture arise three others : 1. The gesture in front* appropriately used in strong or emphatic statements, and terminating in the descending, horizontal, or ascending lines, accord- ing to the character of the thought and the language. [See Figs. 43, 47, 51.] 2. The gesture oblique* falling in an intermedi- ate line between one drawn in front of the speaker's body and one drawn from his side. This gesture is one of general character, having neither the force of the preceding one, nor the peculiarity of that which follows, and terminating upward, downward, or horizontally, according to the nature of the senti- ment expressed. [See Figs. 44, 48, 52.] 3. The gesture extended* (falling in a line with the side,) appropriate in the expression of ideas of extent and space, or forming the terminating point to a wave or sweep of gesture in negation, rejection, &c, and closing in an upward or downward position as before. [See Figs. 45, 49, 53.] Hence arise the following combinations and changes of gesture: 'Descending' 'in front.' [See Fig. 43.] ' Descending ' ' oblique.' [See Figs. 44 and 46.] ' Descending' 'extended.' [See Fig. 45.] 'Hori- zontal 5 'in front.' [See Fig. 47.] 'Horizontal,' 'ob- lique.' [See Figs. 48 and 50.] ' Horizontal,' ' ex- tended.' [See Fig. 49.] 'Ascending' 'in front.' * These designations refer to the person and attitude of the. speaker. GENERAL RULES. 69 [See Fig. 51.] ! Ascending' f oblique.' [See Fig. 52.] f Ascending 5 ' extended.' [See Figs. 53 and 54] Each of these forms of gesture has a peculiar char- acter, fixed and modified by the lines explained above. See i descending,' i horizontal,' fyc. Note. There are occasionally gestures which fall in a line in- ward from that { in front,' as in the slight gestures which take place in reading; and outivard from the line c extended,' as in alluding to any thing very remote in time or place. But these seldom occur. A discriminating and correct use of these different classes of gesture, is the only proper source of varie- ty in action, III. The movement or sweep of the arm, in preparing for gesture, should always be free and graceful, but avoiding too much ex- tent of space, and performed in strict time icith the movement of the voice in utterance. The line of motion in gesture describes a curve, and avoids in all action but that of the humor- ous style, — a confined or angular movement. The curve here spoken of would be exemplified in passing from the gesture l descending 5 J in front 5 to that which is denominated \ descending 5 i oblique. 5 To make this transition, the whole arm rises mode- rately, contracting slightly at the elbow, and the hand approaching a little nearer to the upper part of the speakers body, but not drawn up towards the face, as often happens in incorrect style : the hand and arm having thus finished the preparatory move- 70 GESTURE. merit, at an intermediate point between the line of the gesture from which it passes and that of the ges- ture towards which it is tending, — descends, (with more or less force and swiftness, according to the character of emotion in the language uttered,) to the terminating point of movement for the gesture 'de- scending' 'oblique.' The line of motion thus de- scribed might be represented to the eye as follows : If A C be the points from and to which the gesture passes, the line of a _. motion is not an /\ hut * curve > /^% angle, thus, A* \jl thus ' ^ U The idea of the motion traced by the hand will be perhaps fully formed by supposing the curve to slope inward towards the speaker's body ; thus, if D repre- sent the place of the speaker, the curve would be described in this manner, B representing /^\D the termination of the preparatory move- q/ J a ment. [See also Fig. 55.] The observance of the character of preparatory movement, is a point of great consequence in gesture ; since it decides the style of action as free, forcible, commanding, dignified, graceful, lofty, or the reverse, according to the extent of space it moves through, and the time of its movement, as slow or quick, gradual or abrupt. Magnificence and boldness of gesture belong to the recitation of sublime strains of poetry. But force, freedom, and "propriety, with chasteness of style, are the chief considerations in the delivery of prose ; and these qualities require less allowance of time and space for action^ than are GENERAL RULES. 71 necessary to those of poetic recitation, — a distinction which should be carefully observed. IV. The frequency of gesture must be prescribed by the character of sentiment in the piece which is spoken, and by the style of language, as moderate and plain, or impas- sioned and figurative ; the former requiring little use of gesture, and the latter much. V. All action must arise directly from the sense of ivhat is spoken, and never from arbi- trary notions of variety or grace. True variety is the result of a due observance of the preparatory and terminating lines of gesture; and grace consists merely in pre- serving these from awkward deviations. VI. Imitative gesture should seldom be used even in poetry, and never in prose. VII. The use of the left hand, whether singly or in conjunction with the right, de- pends not on arbitrary opinions of propriety or grace, but usually on necessity, felt by the speaker, either as regards himself or his au- dience. This form of gesture, as far as it is a matter of choice, should be sparingly adopted. VIII. Gesture should be fluent and con- nected, not abrupt and desultory, or appear- ing and disappearing in a capricious manner. IX. The placing of the hand on the heart 72 GESTURE. had better be omitted, if any risk must be incurred of an incorrect or objectionable action by performing it. # X. Gesture appropriate to the prevailing style of prose, unites force and grace with simplicity, and has generally an outward and downward tendency combined ; avoiding action ichich runs across the body of the speaker, or sweeps inwardly. XL All nice and studied positions of the hand, and all which are peculiar and awk- ward, should be carefully avoided, as well as all positions and actions which uninten- tionally interfere with the effect of delivery. * The correct placing of the hand on the heart, is such as to bring the middle part of the middle and the third fingers — not the palm — directly over the spot in which the pulsation of the heart is felt. [See Fig. 56.] APPENDIX, DESIGNED FOR PRACTICAL EXERCISE IN JBeclamatton, CONSISTING OF A DEBATE ON THE CHARACTER OP JULIUS CiESAR. By James Sheridan KLnowles* 1st Speaker, {Chairman.)'— Gentlemen, You have assembled to discuss the propriety of calling Caesar a Great Man. I promise myself much satisfaction from your debate. I promise myself the pleasure of hearing many ingenious arguments on each side of the question. I promise myself the gratification of witness- ing a contest, maintained with animation, good humor, and courtesy. You are assembled, Gentlemen, to discuss the merits of a man, whose actions are connected with some of the most interesting events in Roman story. You have given the subject due consideration. — You come prepared for the contest; and I shall not presume to offer any opinion, respecting the ground which either side ought to take. My remarks shall be confined to the study of Oratory — and, allow me to say, I consider Oratory to be the second end of our academic labors, of which the first end is, tc render us enlightened, useful, and virtuous. 7 74 APPENDIX. The principal means of communicating our ideas are two — speech and writing. The former is the parent of the latter ; it is the more important, and its highest efforts are called — Oratory. If we consider the very early period at which we be- gin to exercise the faculty of speech, and the frequency with which we exercise it, it must be a subject of surprise that so few excel in Oratory. In any enlightened com- munity, you will find numbers who are highly skilled in some particular art or science, to the study of which they did not apply themselves, till they had almost arrived at the stage of manhood. Yet, with regard to the powers of speech — those powers which the very second year of our existence generally calls into action, the exercise of which goes on at our sports, our studies, our walks, our very meals ; and which is never long suspended, except at the hour of refreshing sleep — with regard to those powers, how few surpass their fellow-creatures of common infor- mation and moderate attainments! how very few deserve distinction! — how rarely does one attain to eminence! The causes are various; but we must not attempt, here, to investigate them. By doing so, we might alarm many a formidable adversary ; we might excite a suspicion that we wished to undermine the foundations of modern litera- ture; although our only aim should be to render them sound and durable, and to despoil the edifice of a few monastic features, that mar the harmony, and take from the general effect of the structure. I shall simply state, that one cause of our not generally excelling in Oratory is — our neglecting to cultivate the APPENDIX. 75 art of speaking — of speaking our own language. We acquire the power of expressing our ideas, almost insensi- bly — we consider it as a thing that is natural to us; we do not regard it as an art — it is an art — a difficult art — an intricate art — and our ignorance of that circumstance, or our omitting to give it due consideration, is the cause of our deficiency. In the infant, just beginning to articulate, you will ob- serve every inflection that is recognised in the most accu- rate treatise on elocution — you will observe, further, an exact proportion in its several cadences, and a speaking expression in its tones. I say, you will observe these things in almost every infant. Select a dozen men — men of education — erudition — ask them to read a piece of ani- mated composition — you will be fortunate if you find one in the dozen, that can raise or depress his voice — inflect or modulate it, as the variety of the subject requires. What has become of the inflections, the cadences, and the modulation of the infant ? They have not been exercised — they have been neglected — -they have never been put into the hands of the artist, that he might apply them to their proper use- — they have been laid aside, spoiled, abused ; and, ten to one, they will never be good for any thing ! Oratory is highly useful to him that excels in it. In common conversation, observe the advantage which the fluent speaker enjoys over the man that hesitates, and stumbles in discourse. With half his information, he has twice his importance; he commands the respect of his auditors ; he instructs and gratifies them. In the general 76 APPENDIX. transactions of business, the same superiority attends him. He communicates his views with clearness, precision, and effect ; he carries his point by his mere readiness ; he con- cludes his treaty before another kind of man would have well set about it. Does he plead the cause of friendship? —how happy is his friend! Of charity? — how fortunate is the distressed ! Should he enter the legislature of his country, he approves himself the people's bulwark ! That you will persevere in the pursuit of so useful a study as that of Oratory, I confidently hope. Gentlemen, the Question for debate is — WAS CESAR A GREAT MAN? 2d Speaker. — Sir, I am unpractised in the orator's art, nor can I boast that native energy of talent, which asks not the tempering of experience, but, by its single force, effects what seems the proper achievement of labors and of years. Let me then hope that you will excel in favor, as much as I shall fall short in merit. *Was Caesar a great man?' — What revolution has taken place in the first appointed government of the uni- verse — What new and opposite principle has begun to direct the operations of nature — What refutation of their long-established precepts has deprived reason of her sceptre, and virtue of her throne, that a character which forms the noblest theme that ever merit gave to fame, should now become a question for debate ? No painter of human excellence, if he would draw the features of that hero's character, needs study a favorable light, or striking attitude. In every posture, it has majesty j APPENDIX. 77 and the lineaments of its beauty are prominent in every point of view. Do you ask me, * Had Caesar genius?' — He was an orator ! * Had Caesar judgment ? ' — he was a politician ! ' Had Caesar valor ? ' — he was a conqueror ! 'Had Caesar feeling? ' — He was a friend! It is a generally received opinion, that uncommon circumstances make uncommon men — Caesar was an un- common man, in common ^circumstances. The colossal mind commands your admiration, no less in the pirate's captive, than in the victor of Pharsalia. Who, but the first of his race, could have made vassals of his savage masters, mocked them into reverence of his superior nature, and threatened, with security, the power that held him at its mercy? Of all the striking incidents of Caesar's life* had history preserved for us but this single one, it would have been sufficient to make us fancy all the rest; at least we should have said, 'Such a man was born to conquest, and to empire ! ' To expatiate on Caesar's powers of oratory, would only be to add one poor eulogium to the testimony of the first historians. Cicero, himself, grants him the palm of al- most pre-eminent merit, and seems at a loss for words to express his admiration of him. His voice was musical, his delivery energetic, his language chaste and rich, ap- propriate and peculiar. And it is well presumed, that, had he studied the art of public speaking, with as much industry as he studied the art of war, he would have been the first of orators, duintilian says, he would have been the only man capable of combating Cicero; but, granting 78 APPENDIX. them to have been equal in ability, what equal contest could the timid Cicero — whose nerves fail him, and whose tongue falters, when the forum glitters with arms — what equal contest could he have held with the man, whose vigor chastised the Belgse, and annihilated the Nervii, that maintained their ground till they were hewn to pieces on the spot ! His abilities as a master of composition were undoubt- edly of the first order. How admirable is the structure of his Commentaries! what perspicuity and animation are there in the details f You fancy yourself upon the field of action f You follow the development of his plans with the liveliest curiosity! — You look on with unwea- ¥ied attention, as he fortifies his camp,, or invests his enemy, or crosses the impetuous torrent ! — You behold his legions, as they move forward,, from different points, to the line, of battle — you hear the shout of the onset, and the crash of the encounter; and, breathless with suspense, mark every fluctuation of the awful tide of war ! As a politician, how consummate was his address ! — How grand his projections ! — How happy the execution of his measures I He compels the vanquished Helvetii to rebuild their towns and villages; making his enemies the guards, as it were, of his frontier. He captivates, by his clemency, the Arverni, and the iEdui, winning to the support of his arms the strength that had been employed to overpower them. He governs his province with such equity and wisdom, as add a milder, but a fairer lustre to his glory ; and, by their fame, prepare the Roman people for his happy yoke. Upon the very eve of his rupture APPENDIX. 79 with Pompey, he sends back, on demand, the borrowed legions, covering with rewards the soldiers that may no longer serve him, and whose weapons, on the morrow, may be turned against his breast — presenting here a noble example of his respect of right, and of that mag. nanimity, which maintains that gratitude should not cease, though benefits are discontinued. When he reigns sole master of the Roman world, how temperate is his triumph I —how scrupulous his respect for the very forms of the laws! — He discountenances the profligacy of the patri- cians, and endeavors to preserve the virtue of the state, by paying wholesome restraints upon luxury. He en- courages the arts and sciences, patronizes genius and talents, respects religion and justice, and puts in practice every means that can contribute to the welfare, the happi- ness, and the stability of the empire. To you, Sir, who are so fully versed in the page of his- tory, it must be unnecessary to recount the military exploits of Caesar. Why should I compel your attention to follow him, for the hundredth time, ^through hostile myriads, yielding, at every encounter, to the force of his invincible arms. Full often, Sir, have your calculations hesitated to credit the celerity of his marches; your belief recoiled at the magnitude of his operations; and your wonder re-pe- rused the detail of his successive victories, following upon the shouts of one another. As a captain, he was the first of warriors ; nor were his valor and skill more admirable than his abstinence and watchfulness — his disregard of ease and his endurance of labor — his moderation and his mercy. Perhaps, indeed* this last quality forms the most 80 APPENDIX. prominent feature in his character; and proves, by the consequences of its excess, that virtue itself requires re- straint, and has its proper bounds, which it ought not to exceed ; for Caesar's moderation was his ruin ! That Caesar had a heart susceptible of friendship, and alive to the finest touches of humanity, is unquestionable. Why does he attempt so often to avert the storm of civil war ? — Why does he pause so long upon the brink of the Rubicon ? — Why does he weep when he beholds the head of his unfortunate rival ?— -Why does he delight in par- doning his enemies— even those very men that had de- serted him ? It seems as if he lived the lover of mankind, and fell — as the Bard expresses it — vanquished, not so much by the weapons, as by the ingratitude of his murderers. If, Sir, a combination of the most splendid talents for war, with the most sacred love of peace — of the most illus- trious public virtue, with the most endearing private worth — of the most unyielding courage, with the most ac- cessible moderation, may constitute a great man — that title must be Caesar's [ 3d Speaker.- — No change, Sir, has taken place in the first appointed government of the universe — the opera- tions of nature acknowledge, now, the same principle that they did in the beginning — reason still holds her sceptre-, virtue still fills her throne, and the epithet of great does not belong to Caesar ! I would lay it down, Sir, as an unquestionable position, that the worth of talents is to be estimated only by the use APPENDIX. 81 we make of them. If we employ them in the cause of virtue, their value is great. — If we employ them in the cause of vice, they are less than worthless — they are per- nicious and vile. Now, Sir, let us examine Caesar's talents by this principle, and we shall find, that, neither as an orator, nor as a politician — neither as a warrior nor as a friend — was Caesar a great man. If I were asked, * What was the first, the second, and the last principle of the virtuous mind ? ' I should reply, * It was the love of country.' Sir, it is the love of parent, brother, friend ! — the love of man ! — the love of honor, virtue, and religion ! — the love of every good and vir- tuous deed ! — I say, Sir, if I were asked> * What was the first, the second, and the last principle of the virtuous mind ? ' I should reply, * It was the love of country I ' Without it, man is the basest of his kind ! — a selfish, cunning, narrow speculator! — a trader in the dearest interests of his species ! — reckless of every tie of nature — sentiment — affection ! — a Marius — a Sylla — a Crassus — a Catiline — a Caesar ! What, Sir, was Caesar's oratory? — How far did it prove him to be actuated by the love of country? It justified, for political interest, the invader of his domestic honor! — -sheltered the incendiary! — abet- ted treason !- — flattered the people into their own undoing! — assailed the liberties of his country, and bawled into silence every virtuous patriot that struggled to uphold them! He would have been a greater orator than Cicero ! I question the assertion — I deny that it is cor- rect ! — He would have been a greater orator than Cicero ! — Well ! let it pass — he might have been a greater orator* 82 APPENDIX. but he never could have been so great a man. Which way soever he had directed his talents, the same inordi- nate ambition would have led to the same results ; and, had he devoted himself to the study of oratory, his tongue had produced the same effects as his sword, and equally desolated the human kingdom. But Caesar is to be admired as a politician! I do not pretend to define the worthy speaker's idea of a politician ; but I shall attempt, Mr. Chairman, to put you in possession of mine. By a politician, I understand a man who studies the laws of prudence and of justice, as they are applicable to the wise and happy government of a people, and the reciprocal obligations of states. Now, Sir, how far was Caesar to be admired as a politician 1 He makes war upon the innocent Spaniards, that his military talents may not suffer from inaction. This was a ready way to preserve the peace of his province, and to secure its loyalty and affection. That he may be recorded as the first Roman that had ever crossed the Rhine in a hostile man- ner, he invades the unoffending Germans, lays waste their territories with fire, and plunders and sacks the country of the Sicambri and the Suevi. Here was a noble policy ! — that planted in the minds of a brave and formidable people, the fatal seeds of that revenge and hatred, which finally assisted in accomplishing the destruction of the Roman empire ! In short, Sir, Caesar's views were not of that enlarged nature, which could entitle him to the name of a great politician ; for he studied, not the happi- ness and interests of a community, but merely his own; APPENDIX. 83 advancement, which he accomplished— by violating the laws, and destroying the liberties, of his country. That Cses.ar was a great conqueror, I do not care to dispute. His admirers are welcome to all the advantages that result from such a position. I will not subtract one victim from the hosts that perished for his fame, or abate, by a single groan, the sufferings of his vanquished ene- mies, from his first great battle in Gaul, to his last victory under the walls of Munda ; but I will avow it to be my opinion, that the character of a great conqueror does r not necessarily constitute that of a great man ; nor can the recital of Caesar's many victories produce any other im- pression upon my mind, than what proceeds from the contemplation of those convulsions of the earth, which, in a moment inundate with ruin, the plains of fertility and the abodes of peace ; or, at one shock, convert whole cities into the graves of their living population ! But Caesar's munificence, his clemency, his moderation and his affectionate nature, constitute him a great man ! What was his munificence, his clemency, or his modera- tion ? — The automaton of his ambition! It knew no aspiration from the Deity. It was a thing from the hands of a mechanician! — an ingenious mockery of nature ! Its action seemed spontaneous — its look argued a soul — but all the virtue lay in the finger of the operator. He could possess no real munificence, moderation, or clemency, who ever expected his gifts to be doubled by return — who never abstained, but with a view to excess ; nor spared, but for the indulgence of rapacity. Of the same nature, Sir, were his affections. He was, 84 APPENDIX. indeed, a man of exquisite artifice ; but the deformity of his character was too prominent — no dress could thoroughly hide it; nay, Sir, the very attempt to conceal, served only to discover, the magnitude of the distortion. He atones to the violated and murdered laws, by doing homage to their manes ; and expiates the massacre of thousands, by dropping a tear or two into an ocean of blood ! 4th Speaker. — Sir, to form an accurate idea of Caesar's character, it is necessary that we should consider the na* ture of the times in which he lived ; for the conduct of public men cannot be duly estimated, without a knowledge of k the circumstances under which they have acted. The happiness of a community resembles the health of the body. As it is not always the same regimen that can preserve, or the same medicine that can restore, the latter; so the former is not always to be maintained by the same measures, or recovered by the same corrections. There was a time, when kingly power had grown to so enor- mous an excess, as rendered its abolition necessary for the salvation of the Roman people, Let us examine whether the times in which Caesar lived, did not call for, and justify, the measures which he adopted — whether the liberty of the republic had not degenerated into such a state of anarchy, as rendered it expedient that the power of the empire should be vested in one man, whose influ- ence and talents could command party, and control faction. The erroneous ideas that we have formed concerning Roman liberty, have induced us to pass a severe judgment APPENDIX. 85 on the actions of many an illustrious man. The admirers of that liberty will not expect to be told that it was little better than a name. True liberty, Sir, could never have been enjoyed by a people who were the slaves of continual tumults and cabals, whose magistrates were the mere echoes of a crowd, and among whom virtue itself had no protection from popular caprice or state intrigue. By the term liberty, I understand a freedom from all respon- sibility, except what morality, virtue, and religion, impose. That is the only liberty which is consonant with the true interest of man — the only liberty that renders his associa- tion with his fellow, permanent and happy — the only lib- erty that places him in a peaceful, honorable, and pros- perous community — the only liberty that makes him the son of a land that he would inhabit till his death, and the subject of a state that he would defend with his property and his blood ! All other liberty is but a counterfeit — the stamp a cheat, and the metal base — turbulence — insolence — licentiousness — party ferment — selfish domination — an- archy — such anarchy as needed more than mortal talents to restrain it ; and found them in a Caesar, I hold it to be an unquestionable position, that they who duly appreciate the blessings of liberty, revolt as much from the idea of exercising, as from that of enduring, op- pression. How far this was the case with the Romans, you may inquire of those nations that surrounded them. Ask them, ' What insolent guard paraded before their gates, and invested their strong holds?' They will answer, * A Roman legionary. 5 Demand of them, * What greedy 8 86 APPENDIX. extortioner fattened by their' poverty, and clothed himself by their nakedness ] ' They will inform you, • A Roman Quaestor.' Inquire of them, * What imperious stranger issued to them his mandates of imprisonment or confisca- tion, of banishment or death ? ' They will reply to you, * A Roman Consul.' Question them, * What haughty con- queror led through his city their nobles and kings in chains, and exhibited their countrymen, by thousands, in gladiators' shows for the amusement of his fellow citizens ? ' They will tell you, ' A Roman General.' Require of them, * What tyrants imposed the heaviest yoke — enforced the most rigid exactions — inflicted the most savage punishments, and showed the greatest gust for blood and torture ? ' They will exclaim to you, * The Roman people.' Yes, Sir, that people, so jealous of what they called their liberties, to gratify an insatiate thirst for conquest, invaded the liberties of every other nation ; and on what spot soever they set their tyrant foot, the fair and happy soil of the freeman withered at their stamp! But the re- tributive justice of Heaven ordained that their rapacity should be the means of its own punishment. As their territories extended, their armies required to be enlarged, and their campaigns became protracted. Hence the citi- zen lost in the camp that independence which he had been taught in the city ; and, being long accustomed to obey, implicitly, the voice of his general, from having been sent forth the hope, returned the terror of his country. Hence, Sir, their generals forgot, in foreign parts, the re- publican principles which they had imbibed in the forum ; APPENDIX. 87 and, long habituated to unlimited command, from being despots abroad, learned to be traitors at home. Hence, Sir, Marius returned the salutations of his fellow-citizens with the daggers of assassins ; and, with cool ferocity, marched to the Capitol, amidst the groans of his butchered countrymen, expiring on each side of him. Hence Sylla's bloody proscription, that turned Rome into a shambles — that tore its victims from the altars of the gods — that made it death for a man to shelter a person proscribed, though it were his son, his brother, or his father ; and never suf- fered the executioners to take breath, till senators, knights, and citizens, to the number of nine thousand, had been inhumanly murdered ! Such, Sir, were the events that characterized the times in which Cassar lived. To such atrocities were the Ro- man people subject, while the rivalry of their leading men was at liberty to create divisions in the state. Had you. Sir, lived in those times, what would you have called the man, that would have stepped forward to secure your country against the repetition of those horrid scenes % Would you not have styled him a friend to his country — a benefactor to the world — a great man — a demi-god ? Was not Cassar such a character? Observe what use he makes of power. — He does not employ it to gratify re- venge, or to awe his countrymen : on the contrary, the whole of his conduct encourages confidence and freedom ; while he reforms the government, and enacts the wisest laws for the preservation of [order, and for the happiness of the community. They who object to the character of Ca3sar, condemn it, principally, upon the score of his 88 APPENDIX. having erected himself into the sole governor of the re- public ; but let it be remembered, that the happiness of a state does not depend so much upon the form of its govern- ment, as upon the manner in which that government is administered. A country might be as prosperous and free under what was anciently called a tyranny, as where the chief power was vested in the people. In short, Sir, when Caesar created himself dictator, and thereby destroyed, virtually, the republican form of gov- ernment, he usurped no more than the people did, when they erected themselves into a republic, and thereby de- stroyed the monarchy; and the existing circumstances which rendered the act of the latter expedient, were not more urgent than those which gave rise to the conduct of the former. Caesar, Sir, was a great man ! 5th Speaker. — Caesar, Sir, was not a great man. He who, for his own private views, disobeyed the order of the senate, from whom he held his power — he who seduced from their duty the soldiers whom he commanded in trust for the republic — he who passed the Rubicon, though, by that step, he knew he must inundate his coun- try with blood — he who plundered the public treasury, that he might indulge a selfish and rapacious ambition — he against whom the virtuous Cato ranked himself, whose very mercy the virtuous Cato deemed a dishonor to which death was preferable,— was not a great man, * Caesar erected himself into a tyrant, that he might pre- vent a repetition of those atrocities which had been com- APPENDIX. 89 mittedby Marias and Sylla ! ' What does the gentleman mean by such an assertion? Caesar pursues the same measures that Marius and Sylla did — why?— To prevent the recurrence of the effects which those measures pro- duced } He keeps his eye steadfastly upon them — follows them in the same track — treads in their very foot-prints — w T hy ? That he may arrive at a different point of destina- tion! What flimsy arguments are these! What were Sylla and Marius, that Caesar was not ? If they were ambitious, was not he ambitious ? If they were treach- erouSj was not he treacherous ? If they rebelled, did not he rebel? If they usurped, did not he usurp? If they were tyrants, was not he a tyrant % You were told — the people, from their long-continued service in the army, gradually lost the spirit of independ- ence, and that the calamities of the state arose from that cause. Granted. — It follows, then, that a spirit of independ- ence was necessary for the prosperity of the state; and, consequently, that the way to put a stop to its calamities^ was to revive that spirit. Did Caesar do this ? The gen- tleman says, he had the happiness of his country at heart. From his own argument, it follows, that this was the way to secure the happiness of his country. Did Caesar adopt it ? Was it to revive in his countrymen the spirit of independence, that he audaciously stepped from the rank of their servant to that of their master ? Was it to preserve the integrity which fosters that spirit, that he corrupted the virtue of all that came in contact with him, and that he dared to tempt ? Was it for the regeneration. 90 APPENDIX. of the republic that he converted it into a tyranny ? Was it to restore the government to its ancient health and soundness, that he filled all the offices of the state with his own creatures, the instruments of his usurpation? Was it to reanimate the people with a sense of their own dignity, that he called them Bruti and Cumcei — that is, beasts and fools — when they applauded the tribunes for having strip- ped his statues of the royal diadems with which his flatter- ers had dressed them ? These were the acts of Caesar. Did they tend to restore the ancient virtue of the Roman people? No, Sir; they tended to annihilate the chance of its restoration — to sink the people into a viler abasement — to rob them of the very names of men. But the gentleman has brought forward a very curious argument, for the purpose of proving that the Romans were incapable of being a free people — namely, that their magistrates were the mere echoes of the people. He ad- verts, I suppose, to what were called the tribunes of the people — officers that acted particularly for the plebeian orders, and were generally chosen from their body. But those magistrates, or tribunes, were, it seems, the mere voices of the people, and that circumstance rendered the people incapable of being free! To me, at least, this is a paradox. Who elected these tribunes? — The people. What were they? — The representatives of the people. Whose affairs did they manage ? — The affairs of the peo- ple. To whom were they responsible? — The people. What should they have been, then, but the voices, or, as the gentleman has expressed it, the echoes of the people? But this circumstance rendered the Roman people incapa- APPENDIX. yl ble of being free! Did it shackle them to have a control over their tribunes ? Did it enslave them to have a voice in their own measures? Did it sell them into bondage to have the disposal of their own affairs? If it did, I should advise you, Sir, not to meddle w r ith that honest man, your steward. Bid him let what farms he pleases; demand what fines he pleases; cultivate what land he pleases; fell what timber he pleases ; keep what accounts he pleases ; and make what returns he pleases; lest, by impertinently meddling with your servant, in your own affairs, you rob yourself — ruin your estate — become involved in debt — and end your days in pris,onL The admirers of Caesar, and, of course, of that form of government which was anciently called a tyranny, are ex- tremely fond of under-rating the character of the Romans, as a free people : their liberty they always represent to us, as something bordering on excess; and, following the idea that extremes meet, they describe it as verging into that extreme which naturally leads to despotism. But the hypothesis, which is not borne out by facts, is good for nothing. It was not the liberty which the plebeians enjoyed, that was the cause of their final enslavement. It was the senate's jealousy of that liberty — the senate's struggles for the control of that liberty — the senate's plunder of that liberty — the senate's desire to annihilate that liberty, which left it in the power of any crafty knave, miscalled a great man, who was sufficiently mas- ter of hypocrisy and daring, to set his foot on both the senate ^and the people, and make himself, as Caesar did, the tyrant of his country !: 92 APPENDIX. 6th Speaker. — It is not, Mr. Chairman, my present object to answer the arguments which have been so ably brought forward to support the negative of this question. I rise, to submit a few observations upon the nature of the question itself. I take the liberty of stating, that I think it an injudiciously selected question — a vague and indefinite question — a question which does not receive from every mind the same interpretation. I dare assert, Mr. Chairman, that, in this very assembly, there are various different opinions with respect to what constitutes a great man. Some will tell you, that greatness consists in rank — some, in exploits — some, in talents — some, in virtue. Thus, Sir, the very premises of our discussion are unsettled and wavering; and, from unsettled and wavering premises, what can proceed, but indefinite and inconclusive arguments. Already do the gentlemen on the opposite side endeavor to strain your question to the construction, that greatness essentially consists in good- ness ; and they may quote Mr. Pope, and say, ''Tis phrase absurd to call a villain great.' Others, again, may insist, that greatness depends upon rank, and exclaim with Milton, ' Worthiest, by being good, far more than great or high.' Where are we to rest, Sir, upon this doubtful basis? — this 'neither sea nor good dryland!' I confess, Mr. Chairman, that, until this point shall have been disposed of, I cannot hope for an end to the debate, and, therefore, propose, as an amendment, that previously to the farther discussion of the question, we shall deter- mine, * w T hat it is that constitutes a great man, ' APPENDIX. 93 7th Speaker. — Mr. Chairman, I object to the amend- ment, on- two grounds; first, because it is indecorous, with regard to you; secondly, because it is uncalled for, with regard to the question. Your experience, Sir, could never have allowed you to propose a question that re- quired revision; and had you proposed such a question, it would have been our duty to receive without comment. The question in point does not require revision. You do not ask, if Caesar was a great warrior, or a great poli- tician; but, if he was a great man. Surely, Sir : . in these enlightened times, we do not inquire what it is that consti- tutes a great man. Do we not refuse the name of man to him that violates the laws of morality and religion? And, if we wish to express that a person is eminently virtuous, do we not use that name without a single epithet ? To say of any one that he is a man, is to give him credit for the noblest endowments of the heart. To say that he is not a man, is to leave him destitute of any generous prin- ciple. The question cannot be viewed in any light but one, namely, as inquiring whether Caesar was a man of great virtues, and justifiable conduct? If he was so, our opposition will be fruitless — if he was not so, those gen- tlemen exert their eloquence to little purpose. Upon what ground are we to acknowledge that Caesar was a great man ? For my part, I am at a loss to ac- count for the infatuation of those who call him so; for his chief merit seems to have consisted in his talents as a warrior; and those talents he certainly employed in a cause that cannot be defended upon any principle of mo- rality or religion. What species of beings are we, that 94 APPENDIX. we laud to the skies those men whose names live in the recollection of a field of carnage, a sacked town, or a stormed citadel?— that we celebrate, at our convivial meetings, the exploits of him, who, in a single day, has more than trebled the ordinary havoc of death? that our wives and daughters weave garlands for the brow whose sweat has cost the groans of widows and of orphans ? — and that our very babes are taught to twine the arms of innocence and purity about the knees that have been used to wade in blood? — I say, what species of beings are we, that we give our praise, our admiration, and our love, to that which reason, religion, interest, every consideration should persuade us to condemn — to avoid — to abhor ! I do not mean to say that war Ought never to be waged — there are, at times, occasions when it is expedient — necessary, justifiable. But who celebrates with songs of triumph those commotions of the elements that call the awful lightning into action — that hurl the inundating clouds to earth — and send the winds into the deep to rouse its horrors ? These things are necessary ; but we hail them not with shouts of exultation ; we do not clap our hands as they pass by us ; we do not throng in crowds to their processions ; we shudder as we behold them ! What-species of beings are we ? We turn with disgust from the sight of the common executioner, who, in his time, has despatched a score or two of victims — and we press to the heels of him, that in a single day, has been the executioner of thousands ! Let us not call Csesar a great man, because he was a great warrior. If we must admire him, let us seek some other warrant for our applauses than what proceeds from the groans and writhings of humanity! Let us, then, Sir, first examine his youth — and here we are struck with his notable adventure with the pirates. These freebooters took him, as he was sailing to Rhodes ; they asked twenty talents for his ransom ; and, in derision of their moderation, he promised them fifty — the onus of which act of liberality was borne by the honest Milesians, who raised the money by a voluntary tax. He spent thirty-eight days with those pirates; joined in their diver- sions ; took his exercises among them ; wrote poems and orations, which he rehearsed to them, and which, indeed, pirates as they were, they did not admire; and, in short, lived among them with as much security, ease, and honor, as if he had been in Rome. And what was the sequel ? His ransom arrives ; they keep their compact ; set him at liberty: he departs ; arrives at Miletus ; mans some vessels in the port of that place ; returns ; attacks these same pirates ; takes the greater number of them prisoners, and crucifies them, to a man ! # Was this a great act in Caesar? True ! he had promised to do so, when they showed no great relish for the songs and speeches which he had written among them ; but, should he have kept his promise? True! they were a ban- ditti, — they had deprived him of his liberty ; — but he had eaten at their board; he had partaken of their diversions; he had slept among them in sacred security; he had rail- ed at them without retort; threatened them, and only ex- cited delight at his freedoms; — should he, Mr. Chairman, have crucified them ? crucified them, to a man ? Was 96 APWNTH^ there not one t at least, he might have spared ? one bluff face, whose humor and confidence had pleased him above the rest? one hand, whose blunt officiousness he more particularly remembered? Oh! Mr. Chairman, do we admire the attachment which a wild beast displays towards its attentive keeper; do we applaud that sacred and general principle of nature, which allows kindness to obliterate the sense of injury; and shall we give our sanc- tion, praise, and admiration, to this exploit of Caesar's? What do we find him next about? He produces the images of Marius ! that man, who, as my worthy friend has said, returned the salutations of his fellow-citizens with the blows of his assassins ; and marched to the Capitol amidst the groans of his butchered countrymen, expiring on each side of him. This was not follow- ing the steps of Marius; it was justifying them ; it was expatiating upon them, in the language of veneration and triumph ! it w r as inviting to the standard of his ambition every recreant that would sell the vigor of his arm to any cause, na matter how bloody, how unnatural, how im- moral, how sacrilegious? I shall not comment upon the circumstance of his having been two hundred and fifty thousand pounds in debt, before he obtained any public office ; neither shall I dwell upon his exhibition of three hundred and twenty pair of gladiators ; his diversions in the theatre ; his pro- cessions and entertainments — in which, as Plutarch says, he far outshone the most ambitious that had gone before him, and by which he courted the favor of the vile, the witless, the sensual, and the venal. I shall not expatiate APPENDIX. 97 upon the share he had in Catiline's conspiracy ; I shall not track him in his military career, hy pointing out the ruin which he left behind him at every step: I shall sim- ply answer those gentlemen*, who argue, that Caesar usurped the supreme power for the public good, by ex* amining the characters of the men who abetted him. Were your country, Sir, in a state of anarchy; were it distracted by the struggles of rival parties, drawn out, every now and then in arms against one another ; and were you, Sir, to attempt a reformation of manners, what qualifications would you require in the men, whom you would associate with you in such an undertaking? What would content you? Talent? No! Enterprise I No! Courage? No! Reputation? No! Virtue? No! The men whom you would select, should possess, not one, but all of these ; nor, yet, should that content you. They must be proved men; tested men; men that had, again and again, passed through the ordeal of human tempta- tion, without a scar, without a blemish, without a speck! You would not inquire out the man who was oppressed with debts, contracted by licentiousness, debauchery, every species of profligacy! Who, Sir, I ask, were Caesar's seconds in his undertaking? Crebonius Curio, one of the most vicious and debauched young men in Rome ; a creature of Pompey's, bought off by the illustrious Caesar! Marcus Antonius, a creature of that creature's; a young man so addicted to every kind of dissipation, that he had been driven from the paternal roof — the friend and coad- jutor of that Clodius, who violated the mysteries of the 9 98 APPENDIX. Bona Dea, and drove into exile the man that had been called the father of his country! Paulus iEmilius, a patrician, a consul, a friend of Pompey's— bought off by the great Csesar with a bribe of fifteen hundred talents ! Such, Sir, were the abettors of Caesar. What, then, what was Caesar's object 7 Do we select extortioners, to en- force the laws of equity ? Do we make choice of profli- gates, to guard the morals of society ? Do we depute atheists, to preside over the rites of religion? What, I say, was Caesar's object? I will not press the answer: I need not press the answer; the premises of my argument render it unnecessary. The achievement of great objects does not belong to the vile; or of virtuous ones, to the vicious ; or of religious ones, to the profane. Caesar did not associate such characters with him for the good of his country ; his object was the gratification of his own ambition, the attainment of supreme power ; no matter by what means accomplished ; no matter by what conse- quences attended. He aspired to be the highest — above the people ! above the authorities! above the laws ! above his country ! and, in that seat of eminence he was con- lent to sit, though, from the centre to the far horizon of his power, his eyes could contemplate nothing but the ruin and desolation by which he had reached to it ! 8th Speaker. — Mr. Chairman, I solicit your attention. The gentleman says, we ought not to rejoice at the tri- umphs of the warrior ! Is this position, Sir, to be received without the least restriction ? Let us detect the sophistry of those who support the negative of the question. APPENDIX. 99 A caitiff enters your house at the dead hour of the night, prepared for robbery, and grasping the instrument of murder ! You hear the tread of unknown feet — you rise, come upon the intruder, resist him, and lay him pros- trate! Shall your wife shudder, when you approach to tell her she is safe? — Shall your children shrink from you, when you say you have averted the danger that threatened their innocent sleep ? Why should they not? I'll tell you, Sir — because you have followed the dictates of reason, of affection, of nature, and of God. Had you not been alarmed — notwithstanding this imminent danger, had you risen in safety, and had you found the ruffian dead at your chamber-door, without a mark of violence upon him — his ready weapon lying by his hand — had you then called your family to behold the spectacle, what would they all have done? Would not some have fallen upon their knees? — would not others have stood with up- lifted hands ? — would not all have been transfixed with gratitude — w T ith adoration — -that their Almighty guard had stretched his arm between them and destruction, and marked a limit which the murderer should not pass, with- out the penalty of death ? And is the question changed, because you are the instrument of God ? It would be preposterous to say so. If then, your wife, your children, and family, shall bless the hand that has been the means of their preservation — if they shall weep for gratitude, and press to you on every side, rejoicing in the protection of your arm — shall he not hear the voice of gratulation, whose skill and valor have saved the lives of thousands — have defended cities of matrons and children, not from un- iOO APPENDIX. expected destruction, but from destruction, again and again anticipated — approaching before their eyes, and, at every step, acquiring additional horror? Sir, there are warriors, whose victories should be celebrated with shouts and songs — for whose brows our wives and daughters should weave garlands, and whose knees our infants should em- brace — such warriors as guard the boundaries of their native land ! Though they have waded through blood, fair is their aspect, Religion is the motto of their standard, and Mercy glances from their sword. — And had not Cassar been such a warrior? Who were the enemies over whom he triumphed, before his rupture with Pom- pey ? Barbarians, that lived by predatory warfare! — The people whose ancestors had once sacked Rome ! — who were the restless invaders of the Roman territory, and, in one of their incursions, annihilated a consular army of a hundred and twenty thousand men ! — a nation of robbers ! — ignorant of the laws of arms — regardless of leagues and treaties — the blood-hounds of havoc — that destroyed for the mere gust of destroying ! Hut a very curious attack has been made upon the character of Caesar, namely that he put a few pirates to death ! I question, if the worthy gentleman understands what a pirate of those times signified. Probably, he con- ceives him to have been a rough, honest, free, merry kind of fellow, that loved a roving life, and indulged himself, only now and then, in a little harmless plunder! He will not expect to be told, that he was a man, enrolled in a formidable band — possessing, at times, a fleet of a thousand galleys — making frequent descents upon the Italian coasts; APPENDIX. 101 plundering villas — temples — and even towns ! — carrying off consuls and their lictors ! — tearing virgins from the arms of their aged parents ! — murdering in cold blood, the prisoners whom they had taken, particularly Romans — and spreading such terror over the seas, that no merchant- vessel dared to put out of port, and large districts of the empire were threatened with famine! Surely the gentle- man must be ignorant of these facts; otherwise he would not have chosen so untenable a position for attack. As to Caesar's forgetting that the pirate had been his host, it might indeed have been some ground for animadversion, had he ever remembered that he was so. Some gentle- men, truly, may be so much in love with hospitality, as to admire it, though it should be forced upon them with handcuffs and fetters ; and may have so curious a taste for visiting, as never to go abroad, except upon the requisition of a bailiff; or value an entertainment, unless the host turns the key upon them, and feasts them in a dungeon with walls a yard thick, and windows double-barred. But, as such fancies cannot be called common, Caesar, I think, may escape without censure for not having in- dulged in them. And Caesar is to be condemned, because he produced the images of Marius, and revived his memory and hon- ors ! Now, Sir, I conceive a weaker ground of accusa- tion could not have been selected ; for the mere circum- stance of Marius's having been related to Caesar by marriage, presents a very natural excuse for such a pro- ceeding — particularly as it took place upon the death of 9* 102 APPENDIX. Caesar's aunt, who was the wife of Marius. I fear the worthy gentleman does not follow Bacon's recommenda- tion, and chew and digest the nutritious food which historical reading presents to the mind; otherwise, he must have perceived that Caesar's conduct on this occa- sion not only admitted of excuse, but even challenged commendation. Let him return to the page which he has examined, I fear, too superficially, and he will find, that, up to that time, several of Sylla' s partisans — parti- sans in his murders — remained in Rome — lived there, in peace, in safety — perhaps in power : he will find the general assertion, that Caesar's conduct in having revived the memory of Marius, incensed the nobility; and the particular assertion that Catulus accused him before the senate. This Catulus had been the distinguished friend of Sylla ; had been raised by Sylla to the consulship ; and, at Sylla' s death, had preserved his remains from the de- served dishonor of an ignominious burial ; had procured him the most magnificent funeral that had ever been seen in Rome, and caused the vestals and pontifices to sing hymns in praise of the man, who, as it has been justly said, converted Rome into a shambles, with his butche- ries- ! ; — He will find that Caesar answered the invectives of Catulus, and was acquitted with high applauses; and that he, thereupon, attacked the remaining partisans of Sylla, brought them to trial, and, having convicted such as had imbrued their hands in the blood of their fellow-citizens, caused them to be condemned to death, or to perpetual banishment! APPENDIX. 103 Let us, Sir, do justice to the dead, though their interests be parted from ours by the lapse of a hundred genera- tions — and, as this noble act of Caesar's followed the re- vival of his uncle's honors, let us believe that he revived his uncle's honors for the purpose of performing this noble act — that the memory of Sylla's enemy, being op- posed to the memory of Sylla, might deprive it of that power which gave impunity to murder, and guarded, sacrilege from vengeance ! As to the assertion, that Caesar's aims may be ascer- tained by examining the character of those whom he associated with him, it must go for nothing. The gen- tleman must recollect that those very men had been the abettors of Pompey — had been employed by Pompey— ay ! and with the sanction of the senate — in carrying on the measures which he adopted against Caesar. Our cause may rest upon one single fact— Rome was happy, prosperous, and honored, under Caesar's govern- ment ; and I shall have the hardihood to assert, that he, whose rule secures the happiness, prosperity, and glory of a nation, deserves to rule it. 9th Speaker. — Sir, if you are not indebted to the gentleman that has just addressed you, I am sure the fault is not his. He has made you a present of a wife,, and a fine thriving family, with all the happy et ceteras. Allow me, Sir, to pay my compliments to you, in your new character — allow me to congratulate you upon your having escaped the bachelor's tax — allow me to give you joy of a title, which becomes your grave deportment — 104 APPENDIX. which you wear with a peculiar grace — and which, I fervently trust, you will wear long ! Here, Mr. Chairman, I feel myself tolerably bold, for I have a good cause, and that is more than half the battle — - Sir, it is the whole of the battle — it is the victory itself; for, though Truth should be repulsed a hundred times, she will be triumphant at last. Defeated again, and again, she returns unwearied, whole, and confident, to the charge — because she is immortal! * As easy may you the intrenchant air With your keen sword impress, as make her bleed.' But this kind of style does not belong to me, Mr. Chairman. Unfortunately, I am a fellow so given to jesting, that I am always thought to be most in jest, when I appear to be serious ; therefore, Sir, I must talk to you in my own way — catching at the ideas just as they pre- sent themselves ; and giving them to you without exam- ination, or order, or system, or any thing elsejhat be- speaks a man of a sedate habit of thinking; confiding every thing, as I said before, to the goodness of my cause. And, first of all, Sir, I have not the least idea of calling a man great, because he has been a great conqueror! I do not like what are called your great conquerors ! your gentlemen that have slain their tens of thousands, and fought more battles than they are years old ! I care not in what cause they may have been engaged — that is the last consideration ; for the very best cause may be en- trusted to the very worst man — that is, with respect to morals, principles, and so forth. It is not virtue that is APPENDIX. 105 requisite to form such characters ; it is the contempt of death — enterprise — cunning — skill — resolution ; and these may be found in a man who does not possess one single recommendation besides. How many a renowned general has turned his arms against the very cause, in whose defence he first took them up ! as Caesar did — Caesar, who was commissioned by his country to subdue the Gauls, and then commissioned himself to subdue his country ! I wonder that any man who has a regard for common sense, or plain honesty, can so far forget him- self, as to justify Caesar's conduct in this particular. I shall state a very simple case to you, Mr. Chairman. You have a very large estate ; you employ a couple of stewards to assist you in the management of it ; and you send one of them to reside in the most distant part of it. Well, Sir, this steward is a fellow of address; he manages his little government very skilfully— keeps your tenants in due subjection, andyour servants in admirable order — at the same time, taking care to secure himself in their good graces, by indulgences, and gifts, and flatteries, and every effective means of engaging esteem. Well, Sir, in process of time, you determine to dismiss this steward ; but you retain the other ; you recall him, that he may give an account of himself, and receive his discharge. Does he obey you % No : he does not stir a step ! He sets his arms akimbo, and thus accosts your messenger — ' Mr. Jack — or Thomas — or William — or Walter — pre- sent my duty to my master, and say, that when steward such-a-one receives his discharge, I ; 11 accept mine.' I should like to see your face, Mr, Chairman, upon your 105 APPENDIX. receiving his message. I need not follow the supposition farther. You would do what you could. You would have him fined — imprisoned — hanged. And yet, Sir, such a man — though acting upon a larger scale — was the immortal Caesar. It makes one sick to hear the cause of such a man advocated ! And let me recall to the recollection of those gentlemen, the truth, that great- ness cannot consist in any thing that is at the disposal of chance ; or, rather, that exists by chance. Had not for- tune favored Csesar in his first battles, he would have been recalled, perhaps brought to trial, and banished ; and then he would have been little Csesar. And now, Sir, in the name of common sense, what mighty acts did Caesar perform, when he became the master of his country? We are told that the servile sen- ate created him reformer of manners — a fine reformer of manners, whose own manners stood so much in need of reforming!— Sir, they should have rather made him in- spector of markets — for it was in that capacity that he shone the most conspicuously. It is said, he limited the expense of feasts, and that his officers used to enter the houses of the citizens, and snatch from off their tables any meats that were served up contrary to his prohibition! I should like to see a constable enter my parlor at dinner time, and hand away a dish just as it had been placed upon the table ! But the best of it is, his restrictions affected certain orders only. Men of rank might do as they pleased. They might have their litters, and their embroidered robes, and their jewels — ay ! and, I dare say, their dishes without limit of number, or of quality, or of APPENDIX. 107 variety. Give me no great Caesar for the governor of my country. Give me such government as leaves the management of a man's table to himself? — Give me such cities as have markets without informers ! — where a cook may ride in a carriage, as fine as his own gilt and figured pastry ; and a pin-maker may set you down to as many different dishes, as there are minikins in a row ! In fine, Mr. Chairman, my opinion of Caesar is this — He was a very fine fighter — a very bad patriot — a very selfish master — and a very great rogue ! 10th Speaker. — Sir, if my worthy friend has presented you with a wife and family, the last speaker is not behind- hand wiih him, for he has given you a large estate to maintain them — an estate so large, as to require two stew- ards to manage it ! As to the gentleman's eloquence, in opposition to Cae- sar's greatness, he, himself, tells you what degree of im- portance you are to attach to his opinions ; for he very ingenuously says, you are not to expect any thing serious from him ; but that you must accept of undigested ideas, and rash conclusions, in the place of sober reflection, and logical reasoning: his arguments, therefore, pass for nothing; and do not add to the strength of his cause, or subtract from that of ours. In one instance, however, I shall comment upon what he has said ; because a man should not be frivolous, even in his jesting. I allude to his wit, respecting the restraints that Caesar laid upon luxury. Surely, the gentleman can- not have been so great a victim to his mirth, as to have 108 APPENDIX. laughed away the fruit of his academical labors ! Surely, he cannot have forgotten that Caesar had proud authority for the policy he pursued in the respect alluded to ! Surely, he remembers a few of the laws of Lycurgus, particularly that which prescribed the diet of the Spartans, and enjoin- ed all ranks to eat without distinction in one common hall, where the simplest repast was provided ! Surely, I need not remind him, that the heroes of Greece fared upon black broth, and drew their glory no less from the mode- ration of their appetite, than from the excess of their courage and patriotism. The gentleman says, it makes him sick to hear the cause of such a man as Caesar advocated ! I shall pre- scribe for his sickness. Let him take a dose of common sense, and use a little mental exercise — that will remove his sickness. Caesar, Sir, was a man of stupendous loftiness of mind! A man above all influence of fortune! — Himself, where other men would have been — nothing ! Observe him, when he is surprised by the Nervii. His soldiers are employed in pitching their camp — the ferocious enemy sallies from his concealment, puts the Roman cavalry to the rout, and falls upon the foot. Every thing is alarm, confusion, and disorder ! Every one is doubtful what course to take! — every one but Caesar ! He causes the banner to be erected — the charge to be sounded — the soldiers at a distance, recalled — all in a moment ! He runs from place to place — his whole frame is in action — his words — his looks — his motions — his gestures, exhort his men to remember their former valor ! He draws, them APPENDIX. 109 up, and causes the signal to be given — all in a moment ! The contest is doubtful and dreadful ! — Two of his legions are entirely surrounded ! He seizes a buckler from one of the private men — puts himself at the head of his broken troops \ — darts into the thick of the battle! — rescues his legions, and overthrows the enemy ! But, if you would contemplate Caesar in a situation where he is peculiarly himself, observe him attempting to cress the sea in a fishing-bark. A storm arises ; the waves and winds oppose his course; the rowers, in des- pair, desist from their labor! — Caesar, from the time he had entered the boat, had sat in silence, habited in the disguise of a slave, unknown to the sailors or the pilot. — Like a genius who could command the elements, he stands before the master of the vessel, in his proper shape, and cries, ' Go on boldly, my friend, and fear nothing ! Thou carriest Caesar and his fortunes along with thee ! ' Really, Sir, I cannot command my patience, when I hear those gentlemen indulge themselves in invectives against a man, the twentieth part of whose excellence, divided amongst the whole of them, would make them heroes. I shall certainly vote for the affirmative of the question. 11th Speaker. — I regret, Mr. Chairman, that I must dissent from the last speaker, with regard to his admira- tion of Caesar — I cannot, I confess, behold those incidents he has just named, in Caesar's life, in the same light that he does. When Caesar was surprised by the Nervii, he 10 110 APPENDIX. had a great cause at stake, and his conduct was the natural result of that consideration. That consideration made him collected, and gave him coolness to employ the readiest means of extricating himself from the danger that threat- ened him. — Besides, he was no raw commander ; he had subdued the Helvetians, the Germans, and the Belgians ; nor was his rescuing the two legions that were surround- ed by the enemy, so wonderful an exploit. He was joined at that critical moment by the force that he had left to guard his baggage — nor was his success more the conse- quence of his courage in leading his men into the thickest of the fight, than of the enthusiasm of his soldiers, who followed their general, and whose dearest honor was, then, most particularly concerned in his safety. Caesar, an ambitious general, attempted to cross the sea in a fishing-bark ! — A lover swam across the Hellespont! — Caesar's fortunes and life were at stake ! — He had only a handful of men with him, and Antony was loitering, as he supposed, near Brundusium.— Leander had his mistress at stake ! — I will not, Mr. Chairman, trespass any longer on your patience. I am sure you will agree with me, that great exploits must have noble ends — and then, in- deed, they make the executor great. * Who wickedly is wise, or madly brave, Is but the more a fool— the more a knave. Who noble ends, by noble means, obtains, Or, failing, smiles, in exile or in chains — Like good Aurelius, let him sigh, or bleed Like Socrates— that man is great indeed.' APPENDIX. Ill 12th Speaker. — Mr. Chairman, a gentleman has said that the man whose rule secures the happiness, prosperity and glory of a nation, deserves to rule it. With equal confidence, I assert, that the man who obtains the rule of his country, by violating its laws, — how much soever he may contribute to make it happy, prosperous and great — does not deserve to rule it. He sets a bad example — an example, the more pernicious, as his virtues seem to palli- ate the atrocity of his usurpation. He leaves it in the power of any wretch, who may possess his ambition, with- out his excellence, to quote his name, and use it as an authority for the commission of a similar crime. No gentleman has yet presumed to say that Caesar's conduct was sanctioned by the laws of Rome — those laws that guarded more cautiously against the approaches of tyranny, than against the invasion of a foreign enemy — those laws which justify any private man in putting to death the person, whom he could afterwards prove to have been guilty of meditating usurpation. Cassar, then, did not deserve to rule his country, for he violated its laws. A good man respects the laws of his country ; Cassar was not, in this view, a good man — Cassar was not, in this view, a great man ; for goodness is an essential part of greatness. Let us now examine how far he deserved to rule his country, because, as it has been said, he secured its hap- piness, prosperity and greatness. Sir, I do not believe that he accomplished any such object. To dispose of all offices and honors, just as his own interest, or fancy, di- rected his choice of the candidates ; to create new offices 112 APPENDIX. for the gratification of his favorites and creatures — making the public property the recompense of public delinquency ; to degrade the venerable senate, by introducing into it persons whose only claim to that dignity was their servile devotion to his interests — common soldiers — the sons of freedmen — foreigners, and so forth — I say, Sir, to adopt such measures as these, had not a tendency to secure the happiness or prosperity of his country. But, upon what ground does the gentleman assert, that Caesar secured the greatness of his country ? Was it by extending the fame of its arms ! There was another kind of fame, which the Roman people valued more than the fame of their arms — the fame of their liberty! — There was another kind of greatness, dearer to their pride than all the wealth or honor, that could result from foreign victory — that kind of greatness, which gloried, not in the establishing, but in the destroying of tyranny ; which drove a Tarquin from the throne, and cast an Appius into prison ! which called their proudest heroes from heads of armies and the rule of conquered nations, into the equal ranks of private citizens. A gentleman, speaking of Caesar's benevolent disposi- tion, and of the reluctance with which he entered into the civil war, observes, * How long did he pause upon the brink of the Rubicon 1 ' How came he to the brink of that river 1 How dared he cross it % Shall private men respect the boundaries of private property, and shall a man pay no respect to the boundaries of his country's rights ?' How dared he cross that river ? — Oh ! but he paused upon the brink ! He should have perished on the brinkj APPENDIX. 113 ere he had crossed it ! Why did he pause ? — Why does a man's heart palpitate, when he is on the point of com- mitting an unlawful deed ? Why does the very murder- er, his victim sleeping before him, and his glaring eye taking the measure of the blow, strike wide of the mortal part? — Because of conscience! 'T was that made Caesar pause upon the brink of the Rubicon. Compassion ! — What compassion ? The compassion of an assassin, that feels a momentary shudder, as his weapon begins to cut [ Caesar paused upon the brink of the Rubicon £ — What was the Rubicon ? — The boundary of Caesar's province. From what did it separate his province? — From his country. Was that country a desert % No ? it was cul- tivated and fertile ; rich and populous ! Its sons were men of genius, spirit, and generosity ! Its daughters were lovely^ susceptible, and chaste ! Friendship was its in- habitant ! — Love was its inhabitant ! — Domestic affection was its inhabitant! — Liberty was its inhabitant! — All bounded by the stream of the Rubicon ! What was Caesar, that stood upon the brink of that stream? — A traitor, bringing war and pestilence into the heart of that country ? No wonder that he paused ! No wonder, if his imagina- tion, wrought upon by his conscience, he had beheld blood; instead of water; and heard groans, instead of murmurs! No wonder, if some gorgon horror had turned him into stone upon the spot! But, no! — he cried, 'The die is cast!' He plunged! he crossed! and Rome was free no more \ Again. It has been observed, ' How often did ke at- 10* 114 APPENDIX. tempt a reconciliation with Pompey, and offer terms of accommodation ! < Would gentlemen pass tricks upon us for honest actions ?■ Examine the fact. Caesar keeps his army on foot, because Pompey does so. What entitles either of them to keep his army on foot ? The commis- sion of his country. By that authority they levied their armies — by that authority they should disband them. Had Caesar that authority to keep his army on foot ? — No. Had Pompey? — Yes. What right, then, had Caesar to keep his army on foot, because Pompey did so ? His army ! It was the army of his country — enrolled by the orders of his country — maintained by the treasure of his country — fighting under the banners of his country — seduced by his flatteries, his calumnies, and his bribes, to espouse the fortunes of a traitor. Sir, he never sincerely sought an accommodation. Had he wished to accomplish such an object, he would have adopted such measures as were likely to obtain it. He would have obeyed the order of the senate; disbanded his troops; laid down his com- mand; and appeared in Rome a private citizen. Such conduct would have procured him more dignity, more fame, more glory, than a thousand sceptres — he would not have come to parley with the trumpet and the stand- ard, the spear and the buckler — he would have proved himself to have been great in virtue. Upon the same principle, his clemency must go for nothing.— Clemency 1 — to attribute clemency to a man, is to imply that he has a right to be severe — a right to punish. Caesar had no right to punish. His clemency ! — it was APPENDIX. 115 the clemency of an outlaw — a pirate — a robber — who strips his prey, but then abstains from slaying him! You were also told, that he paid the most scrupulous respect to the laws. He paid the most scrupulous respect to the laws! — he set his foot upon them ; and, in that prostrate condition, mocked them with respect ! But, if you would form a just estimate of Caesar's aims, look to his triumphs after the surrender of Utica — Utica, more honored in being the grave of Cato, than Rome, in having been the cradle of Caesar I You will read, Sir, that Caesar triumphed four times. First, for his victory over the Gauls; secondly, over Egypt; thirdly, over Pharnaces ; lastly, over Juba, the friend of Cato. His first, second, and third triumphs were, we are told, magnificent. Before him, marched the princes, and noble foreigners of the countries he had conquered; his soldiers, crowned with laurels, followed him, and the whole city attended w 7 ith acclamations. This was well! — the conqueror should be honored. His fourth triumph approaches — as magnificent as the former ones. It does not want its royal captive, its soldiers crowned with laurels, or its flushed conqueror, to grace it; nor is it less honored by the multitude of its spectators — but they send up no shout of exultation ; they heave loud sighs; their cheeks are frequently wiped ; their eyes are fixed upon one object, that engrosses all their senses — their thoughts — their affections. — It is the statue of Cato ! — carried before the victor's chariot ! It represents him rending open his wound, and tearing out his bowels; as he did in Utica, when Roman liberty was no more ! 116 APPENDIX. Now, ask if Caesar's aim was the welfare of his country f Now, doubt if he was a man governed by a selfish ambi- tion ! — Now, question whether he usurped, for the mere sake of usurping ? He is not content to triumph over the Gauls, the Egyptians, and Pharnaees ; he must triumph over his own countrymen ! He is not content to cause the statues of Scipio and Petreius to be carried before him ; he must be graced by that of Cato I He is not eon- tent with the simple effigy of Cato ; he must exhibit that of his suicide ! He is not satisfied to insult the Romans with triumphing over the death of liberty: they must gaze upon the representation of her expiring agonies, and mark the writhings of her last — fatal struggle! Mr. Chairman, I confidently anticipate the triumph of our cause. 13th Speaker. — Sir, with great reluctance I present myself to your notice at this late hour. We have proved that your patience is abundant — *we cannot presume that it is inexhaustible. I shall exercise it for only a few moments. Were our cause to be judged by the approbar tion which our opponents have received,, it would appear to be lost ; but that is far from being the case, Mr. Chair- man. The approbation they receive is unaccompanied by conviction. It is a tribute — and a merited one — to their eloquence, aad has not any reference to the justice of the part they take. Our cause is not lost — is not in, danger — does not apprehend danger. We are as strong as ever — as able for the contest, and as confident of victo? APPENDIX. 117 ry. We fight under the banners of Csesar ; and Caesar never met an open enemy without subduing him. We grant that Caesar was a usurper ; but we insist that the circumstances of the times justified his usurpation. We insist that he became a usurper for the good of his country; for the salvation of the republic ; for the preserva- tion of its very existence ! What must have been the state of Roman liberty, when such men as Marius and Sylla could become usurpers? Monsters, against whose domination, nature and religion exclaimed! Gentlemen talk very prettily about the criminality of usurpation. They know it is a popular theme. All men are tenacious of their property ; and the gentlemen think that, if they can carry the feelings of their auditors along with them, in this respect, they may be certain of success in every other. We have not any objection to their flat- tering themselves with such fancies; but the cause of jus- tice shall not be sacrificed to their gratification. — Surely those gentlemen must be ignorant of the state of the republic, in those times; surely they have never heard, or read, that massacre was the common attendant of public elections ; that the candidates brought their money — openly — to the place of election, and distributed it among the heads of the different factions; that those factions employed force and violence, in favor of the persons who paid them; and that scarce any office was disposed of without being disputed, sword in hand, and without cost- ing the lives of many citizens ! A gentleman very justly said, that the love of country is the first, the second, and the last principle of a virtuous 118 APPENDIX. mind. Now, Sir, it appears that the Roman people sold their country! — its offices — its honors — its liberty; sold them to the highest bidder — as they would sell their wares — a sheep — or the quarter of an ox; and that, after they had struck the bargain, they threw themselves into it, and fought manfully for the purchaser 1 Cicero and Cato lived in these times — Cicero, that saved Rome from the conspiracy of Catiline — Cato who would not survive the liberty of his country. The latter attempted to stop the progress of the corruption ; but his efforts were fruit* less. He could neither restrain its progress, nor mitigate its virulence. Thus, Sir, the independence of the repub- lic was virtually lost, before Caesar became a usurper; and, therefore, to say that Csesar destroyed the indepen- dence or liberty of his country, is to assert that he destroyed a nonentity. It was happily remarked, that the power of interfering with the tribunes, was fatal to the Roman people. Yes, Sir, it was fatal. The tribunes ought to have been inde- pendent of the people, from the moment of their entering on their office, to that of their laying it down. You were told the people had a right to the direction of their own affairs. Yes, Sir, they had a right. We do not dispute that. But it was a right by the abandonment of which they would have been gainers. It was a fatal right, by grasping at which, they lost every thing. It was an inconsistent right, for they stood as much in need of being protected from themselves, as of being protected from the nobility. Why does any man put his affairs into the hands of another, but because he cannot manage APPENDIX. 119 them so well himself? If he cannot manage them so well himself, why should he interfere with the person to whose conduct he entrusts them? Because he has a right! I know he has; but it is an unfortunate right, for it leaves it in his power to ruin himself, in spite of good counsel and friendship ! Gentlemen talk of what are called, the people, as if they were the most enlightened part of the community! Are they the guardians of learning ? — or of the arts ?- — or of the sciences ? Do we select counsellors from them ? — or judges? — or legislators? Do we inquire among them for rhetoricians? — logicians? — or philosophers? — or, rather, do we not consider them as little cultivated in mind ? — little regulated by judgment? — much influenced by preju- dice? — greatly subject to caprice? — chiefly governed by passion? — Of course, Sir, I speak of what are generally called the people—the crowd, the mass of the community. But you ask me for a proof of the bad effects that resulted to the Roman people, from the liberty they possessed, of legislating directly for themselves. Look, Sir, to the proceedings of the forum! — What they did, they undid; what they erected, they threw down ; they enacted laws, and they repealed them ; they elected patriots, and they betrayed them; they humbled tyrants, and they exalted them ! You will find that the great converted the undue power, which the people possessed, into the means of subjugating the people. If they feared a popular leader, it was only necessary to spread, by their emissaries, a suspicion of his integrity, or set the engine of corruption to work, upon that frailest of all fortifications, popular / 120 APPENDIX. stability — and thus, Sir, they carried their point, humbled their honest adversaries, and laughed in the face of the wisest and most salutary laws. Mr. Chairman, I think that the times in which Caesar lived, called for, and sanctioned, his usurpation. I think his object was, to extinguish the jealousies of party; to put a stop to the miseries that resulted from them ; and to unite his countrymen. I think the divided state of the Roman people exposed them to the danger of a foreign yoke, from which they could be preserved, only by re- ceiving a domestic one. I think that Csesar was a great man ; and I conclude my trial of your patience, with the reply made to Brutus by Statilius, who had once deter- mined to die in Utica with Cato ; and by Favonius, an esteemed philosopher of those times. These men were sounded by Brutus, after he had entered into the con- spiracy for murdering Caesar. The former said, he * would rather patiently suffer the oppressions of an arbi- trary master, than the cruelties and disorders which generally attend civil dissensions.' The latter declared, that, in his opinion, a * civil war was worse than the most unjust tyranny.' p rHati P* \*