CHAPTER IV

THE LAND OF USED-TO-BE

The particular thing taught in the early school, as I recall it, was to

make a bow. When a boy was about to speak a piece he made his manners

and at the conclusion of his address he again caused his head to descend

and made a quick nervous stoop. Declamation was made of three parts, two

of which were the introductory bow and the concluding one. If the bow

was grotesque, the speaker was recalled, not only to bow, but to do it

gracefully. It is nothing to the credit of those scholars that in later

life they sometimes forgot to perform the gracious act, which this

master sacrificed other items to teach. The schedule, day by day, was a

mere overture to the main performance which came at the end of the term

which was the exhibition. This came "the last day." As the libraries

were small the pupils searched high and low to find a "piece." This was

a new task to those who had been simple answer-hunters. In arithmetic

they were informed in advance what result they must attain and to reach

it was to do their sums. But now there is involved also the human

equation.

_Dolling Up_

When they came "to speak in public on the stage," they were noisily

dressed. They would have looked better and felt better in customary

apparel, but they were ill at ease and this helped to mark a red-letter

day.

The whole town was moved. The scholars were full of excitement over the

glory of the occasion. The country side was deserted. The farmers with

all the members of their families appeared in town. There was no room to

stable the horses and so they were covered with many other articles

besides blankets, there being no uniformity to their uniform. They were

tied for the very long evening in the lee of some stack or shed. The boy

who spoke the last piece excited great admiration, particularly, in the

minds of his proud father and of his adoring mother.

"So sleeps the pride of former days,

So glory's thrill is o'er,

And hearts that once beat high for praise

Now feel that pulse no more."

Interest in these things so then developed that Mr. Caldwell had to

compose dialogues of a spicy picturesque character for our public use.

He incited his scholars to enter into the spirit of their single pieces

and dialogues and his exhibitions surprised and delighted the audiences

so admirable became the performance of children and youth. Fine

declamation was to him what painting is to an artist, or melody to the

musician, it was a passion, and nerved him for effort. Scholars still

live all about who can "witness if I lie." The stage afterward must have

claimed many of those actors for they showed unquestioned genius for the

art of theatrical representation. The conditions were primitive, but for

the platform we must have curtains, so when the eventful moment came,

sheets and table-cloths instead were pulled aside, these being the only

curtains that were available and we had to live with what we had. The

"stage properties" were hastily gathered from the homes of participants.

_Fitted for a Day Sure to Come_

As the parents attended these exhibitions, the contagion caught them and

then followed the lyceum. It swept the town, it was the most popular

thing ever. I distinctly remember the evening when they discussed Neal

Dow's Maine liquor law, my father participating. One of our neighbors

carried the honor of out-talking the whole field. Let his thoughts slide

into the familiar current and they flowed on easily and indefinitely.

For debate they caught at Bulwer's dramatic sentence, The pen is

mightier than the sword, and they argued the pros and cons without

getting a verdict, leaving thus to Germany and the Allies to bring the

time honored discussion to an end with a demonstration that no one will

ever be able effectively to question. To these meetings each man brought

a candle but no candle-stick. From the lighted end, he would drop a

little tallow on the desk, and thus set up the candle, that it would

give light to all that were in the house. What a sight greeted us the

next morning.

"The Isles of Greece!

The Isles of Greece!"

Friction matches, which according to Faraday, were the most useful

invention of the age were not then sold, loose in boxes, but were made

in cards, each match being detached only a part of its length from the

others which stood with it in a thin layer of wood. The word, Lyceum,

marks an era in the United States. It means a great school of debate, a

college that grants no degrees. It gives me a sadness that is not akin

to pain, to hear a young person designate a building as Lyceum Hall,

using the word as if it were Grampian Hall or Hamilton Hall, having no

glorious, clear conception of what the name of the hall signified to the

early community. Tradesmen, farmers, professional men, themselves

readers and thinkers, above all restless and eager disputants would meet

night after night to discuss the unselfish problems of life. At first

they were not allowed to speak upon irritable subjects. They tried to

escape both the Scylla and the Charybdis of religious and political

contentions, but in early days narrow was the way. Some sanguine souls

sought to build a suspension bridge over the foaming waters of

controversy and to find a way of union for the bitter strife and

dissension that only cases of conscience can supply. This little

community-university was co-educational. The women too were welcomed,

not only to the meeting where their presence was a stimulus to the

debaters, but to participation in the conduct of the lyceum paper,

which, read by one of the sterner sex, often contained contributions by

the women. In it were witty conundrums, based on local names and

conditions, pointed suggestions, humorous hits at the hardships they

were at the moment experiencing, which enabled the people to laugh at

their own privations. Deep feeling and marked literary ability were

often shown in the contributions to this unprinted paper. It was for

just such pages as these that the first poems of Lucy Larcom were

produced, and she says that if she had learned anything by living it was

that education may proceed "not through book learning alone, sometimes

entirely without it."

_Flights of Oratory_

The outstanding feature of the lyceum was the report of the critic. He

must be a bright glad witty man without a shade of vulgarity, a perfect

master of all those nice little arts which give zest to conversation and

a quaint coloring and a good deal of it, to his thoughts. I have a

pleasant record of him. His chief theme was always, The Ladies. No one

of them could do anything poorly enough to get anything but a warm

encomium. If the debaters did well it was because the ladies by their

presence gave just such cheer as bands of music contributed to

Napoleon's army, when getting their heavy cannon over St. Bernard Pass.

This critic never had the affrontery to lecture the participants. "Who

made thee a ruler and a judge over us?" Mathew Arnold came over here to

lecture us, from the know-it-all point of view, and began his work

without any specific preparation for any evening, discussing no

sympathetic theme, and the people declined to hear. The great benefit of

the lyceum, to say the least of it, was that the whole conduct of it

rested solidly on the men who blended in it and habitually attended it.

It came right up out of the intellectual force, the convictions, the

good neighborhood feeling and intelligence of the community. These

debates developed leaders in the various departments of mental effort.

It sent debaters straight into the State legislature. It was like

running a magnet over a dust heap, in that it revealed metal, and drew

it out, and this was what people were looking for. Any one who looks

over the surface of our towns finds many minds, endowed by nature with

brilliant faculties and framed by their Creator for great usefulness and

honor, waiting to have their energies awakened and invigorated.

_Choosing the Front Subject_

The thing that made the lyceum was in the air. What is discussed now in

the papers was then a theme for argument, evenings, in the stores and

taverns. Our word caucus, is derived from the Caulkers, ship-builders,

hardy, upright efficient men who gave tone and character to the meeting

that they with others held, to discuss politics and the other live

issues of the day. To increase the number of parts taken, certain grave,

slow men, not likely to share in the discussions, noted chiefly for

their moderation and caution, were named in advance as judges, and their

decision was to be based first, on the weight of argument, and then on

the merits of the question. To keep up the excitement, the decision was

sometimes appealed to the house. If I close my eyes and open the

chambers of memory I distinctly see the young men, with many signs of

diffidence rising timidly to participate in the proceedings. At the

earlier meeting, two persons had been appointed to maintain the

affirmative and two other members were requested to maintain the

negative. The free-for-all fray was let loose with the old time

question, Does any one desire to debate that question? Sometimes we had

"rough house" which was always followed at the next meeting of the

lyceum by a capacity audience. As Samson found the honey, so these

lyceums discovered talent where it would be looked for least. Men came

to look for good in each other under these conditions, and that helped

some. And there is a partial explanation of the fact that so many men,

who became prominent in early politics, were from small towns. Great

opportunity was given for discovering and developing latent literary and

oratorical talent and for invigorating and confirming every germ of

reform and political aspiration. Leaders were discovered in the various

departments of investigation and of influence. It must be kept in mind

that the communities were to an exceptional degree homogeneous and

over-whelmingly American.

_Educating Themselves_

I never look upon the panorama of the past where vivid life forms have

lost little of their original distinctness without thinking of the

village oracles who exercised their eloquence in these local, free

schools of debate. They gave a permanent bias and coloring to the genius

and taste and style, in all their subsequent years, to men distinguished

for their talents, whom the lyceums discovered and trained, who shone

splendidly in after life. To find the place of the lyceum in the

evolution of the debaters, we will eliminate genius. To draw a rude

likeness was once genius. In mechanics genius ceased to be recognized as

soon as labor could equal the result, once attributed to nature's gift,

acting unaided. Whittier tells us that when he began life verse-making

was a monopoly. Good citizenship is not a gift or an inheritance any

more than is good soldiering. Courage alone does not make the soldier

nor honesty alone the citizen. Training is essential to both. In the

recent constitutional convention held in Massachusetts those who worked

like Trojans, looked forward with apprehension, to the oratorical

assaults, that would be made upon their results. They recognized the

disproportionate advantage, but a real advantage never-the-less, of

oratory, and this was not over-looked but acknowledged. For a fact, some

excellent ideas went begging for the support of those who had talents

and training for speaking exceptionally well. One who surpasses the

ordinary standards, but a little, takes a position quite in advance of

his fellows. Superiority on the race course is a matter of seconds and

half-seconds. The honor bestowed by us on excellence in public address

is greater than that attributed to men in literature or the professions,

in business, or invention. The difference becomes so plain and is so

conspicuous that it gains attention. The ablest speaker arouses the

sympathies and gains the result. Where a cause is to be presented I have

heard this formula. A poor cause, a good speaker. A good cause, any

speaker. All of us have been present when a fine speaker having what may

be called the wit of speech where a laugh was loaded with a principle

where the address was clear, sparkling, above all things witty, wit

being the rarest of qualities and surest of appreciation, the audience

worked up by the rough and ready eloquence of a popular orator, reaching

indeed an extraordinary pitch of excitement, has swept everything with

the weaker side of the case. No accomplishment gains consideration for

its possessor and his cause so speedily as public speaking. When

billions were being raised in Liberty Loans, during the German war, the

telling factor was the four-minute speakers that came out of the

Phillips debating societies in the various communities, and these

speakers having come to the front show some disposition to remain

there.

_A New Impetus_

Here is brought to light the reason, that those northern states in which

these elementary schools of patriotism and freedom have existed, cling

so tenaciously, for local government, to the old town meeting. In this

country where the motive power is public opinion, the ability to help in

forming it is greatly to be coveted. The power of the lyceum would be

instantly admitted, if we could use it for a moment as a negative

quantity, and show how completely unfitted for public work many of our

strongest factors would have been, had these little schools of oratory

never opened their doors. I share in the well expressed opinion that

there are four kinds of human activity for which a man must have a

natural preparation, music, the sculptor's art, the painter's art, these

three, and the highest forms of oratory. For these, most successful men

must have aptitude. But to a person with the gift of utterance, occasion

must say, Oratory, come forth! Money does not talk. Culture not wealth

is the mark of distinction. Take a man whose father was poor and also

the descendant of poor men with all their ideas of life associated with

conditions of extreme poverty. The atmosphere and practices were such

that Henry Wilson besought the legislature to change his name from

Jeremiah Jones Colbaith to that one that he made famous as United States

senator and as vice-president being elected on the ticket with Grant. He

had known what it was to ask his mother for bread when she had none to

give. Before he was twenty-one he had never had but two dollars and had

never spent more than one dollar. At the end of an eleven years'

apprenticeship to a farmer, he received a yoke of oxen and six sheep

which he sold for eighty-four dollars. During these eleven years he

never had more than twelve months schooling. The turning point in his

life was the lyceum which he attended, following the lines of argument,

but lacking courage to share in the debate. But one evening when the

discussion was thrown open to the audience he engaged in it to the

delight of his friends. His pastor called upon him and expressed his

gratification and the lyceum increased in popularity as a place to hear

him. His pastor urged him to seek an education. The lyceum had awakened

his dormant powers. His special forte, his biographer says, was

extemporaneous speaking and debate. In meetings held once or twice a

week he acquired the drill he needed for coming conflicts.

_The Onward Upward Course_

Henry Clay rose to fame, by a sudden impulse at the meeting of a lyceum

in Lexington. He overcame timidity and embarrassment, that had

oppressed him, and in this favorite forum for the display of youthful

talent, first exhibited the evidence of his extraordinary powers of

oratory. His hour had struck. In this school for the highest powers of

debate he discovered himself. He used a very common expedient and made

it great and was proud to descend from the summit of political

preferment to honor that arena, such as any community can provide, in

which any ambitious young man can educate himself. Both Mr. Beveridge's

brilliant oratory and Dolliver's success, as the greatest campaigner

America has produced, are proof, that a training field is an

indispensable condition of getting results, in the study of eloquence

and in the art of oratory.

Revisiting the Earth · 第 4 / 18 章