SPEECH-MAKING.
At this time Nat occupied a position of honor and influence which few
persons of his age ever attain. But let not the reader suppose it was
the result of chance, or the consequence of superior talents alone. He
was more indebted for it to the studious habits which he formed from
twelve to fifteen years of age, than to any thing else. If he had wasted
his spare moments then in idleness,--as many boys do,--he never would
have surprised the lyceum with a speech of such eloquence, nor been able
to entertain an audience on the subject of temperance. The habits of
life are usually fixed by the time a lad is fifteen years of age. The
habits which Nat had established at this period of life, made him what
he was five years later. Those early years of industry and application
could not be thrown away without demolishing the fabric that was reared
upon them. They were the underpinning of the beautiful structure that so
many delighted to view when the busy architect was a little older. For,
if it could ever be truthfully said of any one, "he is the artificer of
his own fortune," it could be said of Nat. The bobbin boy was father of
the young and popular orator.
It is generally true, as we have intimated before, that the influence of
habits at ten or fifteen years of age, is distinctly traceable through
the whole career of eminent men. Sir James Mackintosh was thirteen years
of age when Mr. Fox and Lord North were arrayed against each other on
the subject of the American war. He became deeply interested in the
matter through their speeches, and from that time concentrated his
thoughts upon those topics that contributed to make him the
distinguished orator and historian that he became. He always considered
that the direction given to his mind, at that early period of his life,
settled his destiny. The great naturalist Audubon, was just as fond of
birds and other animals, when ten years old, as he was in manhood. He
studied natural objects with perfect admiration, and took the portraits
of such birds as he particularly fancied. When he was sent to Paris to
be educated, away from the beauty and freshness of rural objects, he
became tired of his lessons, and exclaimed, "What have I to do with
monstrous torsos and the heads of heathen gods, when my business lies
among birds?" The foundation of his success as a naturalist was laid in
his sparkling boyhood. Benjamin West was made a painter, as he said, by
his mother's kiss of approbation, when she saw a picture he sketched, at
seven or eight years of age. He became just what he promised to be in
his boyhood, when he robbed the old cat of the tip of her tail out of
which to manufacture a brush, to prosecute his delicate art. Thus it was
with Eli Whitney, who proved himself such a benefactor to mankind by his
inventive genius. His sister gives the following account of his boyhood:
"Our father had a workshop, and sometimes made wheels of different
kinds, and chairs. He had a variety of tools, and a lathe for turning
chair-posts. This gave my brother an opportunity of learning the use of
tools when very young. He lost no time; but, as soon as he could handle
tools, he was always making something in the shop, and seemed not to
like working on the farm. On a time, after the death of our mother, when
our father had been absent from home two or three days, on his return he
inquired of the house-keeper what the boys had been doing? She told him
what B. and J. had been about. 'But what has Eli been doing?' said he.
She replied that he had been making a fiddle. 'Ah!' added he
despondingly, 'I fear Eli will have to take his portion in fiddles.' He
was at this time about twelve years old. This fiddle was finished
throughout, like a common violin, and made tolerably good music. It was
examined by many persons, and all pronounced it to be a remarkable piece
of work for such a boy to perform. From this time he was employed to
repair violins, and had many nice jobs, which were always executed to
the entire satisfaction, and often to the astonishment of his customers.
His father's watch being the greatest piece of machinery that had yet
presented itself to his observation, he was extremely desirous of
examining its interior construction, but was not permitted to do so. One
Sunday morning, observing that his father was going to meeting, and
would leave at home the wonderful little machine, he immediately feigned
illness as an apology for not going to church. As soon as the family
were out of sight, he flew to the room where the watch hung, and, taking
it down, he was so much delighted with its motions, that he took it all
in pieces before he thought of the consequences of his rash deed; for
his father was a stern parent, and punishment would have been the reward
of his idle curiosity, had the mischief been detected. He, however, put
the work all so neatly together, that his father never discovered his
audacity until he himself told him many years afterwards."[A] Such was
the boyhood of one who invented the _cotton-gin_, made improvements in
the manufacture of fire-arms, by which the national government saved, as
Mr. Calhoun said "twenty-five thousand dollars per annum," and
contributed largely to advance other mechanical arts. How distinctly we
can trace, in all these examples, the moulding influence of boyhood upon
manhood! And how marked the correspondence between the early life of all
these men and that of Nat! Thus it is that the beautiful poem of
Longfellow, "The Village Blacksmith," is abundantly illustrated in the
biography of both the living and the dead! A few of the verses are:--
"Under a spreading chestnut-tree
The village smithy stands;
The smith, a mighty man is he,
With large and sinewy hands;
And the muscles of his brawny arms
Are strong as iron bands.
"His hair is crisp, and black, and long,
His face is like the tan;
His brow is wet with honest sweat,
He earns what e'er he can,
And looks the whole world in the face,
For he owes not any man.
"Week in, week out, from morn till night,
You can hear his bellows blow;
You can hear him swing his heavy sledge,
With measured beat and slow,
Like a sexton ringing the village bell,
When the evening sun was low.
* * * * *
"Toiling,--rejoicing,--sorrowing,
Onward through life he goes;
Each morning sees some task begin,
Each evening sees it close;
Something attempted, something done,
Has earned a night's repose.
"Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend,
For the lesson thou hast taught!
Thus at the flaming forge of life
Our fortunes must be wrought;
Thus on its sounding anvil shaped
Each burning deed and thought!"
But to return. For some time Nat's attention had been directed to
political subjects, and he had been hither and thither to listen to
various speakers. At length he became so enthusiastic in support of his
own political tenets, that he was urged to undertake political
speech-making. There was ample opportunity for the display of his
abilities in this way, since the political excitement was strong.
"What do you think," said he to Charlie, "about my engaging in politics?
I have been urged to speak at political meetings."
"You better do it," replied Charlie. "You are well qualified for it; and
you always have taken an interest in politics ever since you read the
Life of Jefferson. Where do they want you should speak?"
"Here, and in other places, too; and I scarcely know what to do about
it. In some respects I should like it, and in others I should not."
"Do it, by all means," added Charlie. "It will not interfere much with
your studies, as you will speak only in the evening."
"But that will interfere very much with my present plans. It will be on
my mind all the time, so that my interest will be divided at least. No
one can have too many irons in the fire, and attend to them all. One
thing at a time is about as much as any person can do well."
"That may be very true, but why not make that one thing politics? We
must have men to manage State affairs, as certainly as to be lawyers,
physicians, and ministers. Besides, if I can read you, Nat, you are
actually cut out for this sphere of action."
"You don't read me correctly if that is your opinion. There must be a
great many unpleasant things in such a life. If the speaking were all, I
should like that well enough, but that is a small part of political
experience."
"Try it, try it," added Charlie, "and see how you make it go. You need
not continue in it longer than you please. I want to see you take the
stump once. Perhaps you will make a Democrat of _me_."
Nat met the last remark with a laugh, and said "That is too much to
expect. You are a hopeless case,--too incorrigible to be won over to the
right side. I relinquished all hope of you a long time ago."
"Now, seriously," said Charlie, "I advise you to speak at political
meetings, and I hope you will speak here first. It will be the best
thing you can do. If I possessed your abilities for public speaking, I
would do it in a minute."
"Perhaps I shall conclude to do so," was Nat's reply, as they separated.
The result was, that Nat decided to address a political gathering in his
native town; and soon after he visited some neighboring places on the
same errand. He soon acquired a reputation, as the "young orator," and
committees waited upon him from towns near and remote. The adventure of
one of these committees rehearsed, will show what expectations were
awakened by his spreading fame.
A committee, in the town of ----, were instructed to wait upon him, and
secure his services at a great political gathering there. Accordingly
the committee put on their "Sunday suit," harnessed the horse into the
best carriage, and started for Nat's residence. Meeting a man, as they
entered the village.
"Where is Esquire ---- (meaning Nat)'s office?"
The person addressed did not understand who was meant at first, and
asked for the repetition of the inquiry, which was readily granted.
"Oh," answered he, "it is down yonder," at the same time pointing to a
street a quarter of a mile distant or more, and scarcely able to control
his risibles as he thought of the joke he was about to perpetrate.
"Very much obliged to you," responded the inquirer, at the same time
whipping up his horse.
"This is nothing but a carpenter's shop," said one of them, as they
reached the place. "We must have misunderstood him."
"It is very evident," said the other, "that we shall have to look
further yet. But let us go in and inquire."
So they alighted, and went in.
"We are looking for Esquire ----'s office. A gentleman directed us a
short distance back, but we find that we did not understand him."
"Whose office did you say?" inquired Nat's father, who happened to be
the person addressed.
"Esquire ----'s office, the young orator we have heard so much about."
Nat's father was very much amused at this turn of matters; but he kept
on a sober face, and replied, pointing to Nat, who was planing a board,
"That is the young man you want to see, I suppose."
The committee looked at each other, and then at the black-haired
board-planer, with perfect amazement. Their countenances told just what
they thought; and if we should write their thoughts out in plain
English, they would run thus:
"What! that young fellow the stump orator of which we have been told so
much. We better have staid at home, than to risk our party in his hands.
Why! he is nothing but a boy. There must be some mistake about the
matter."
While astonishment was evaporating from the tops of their heads, and
oozing out of the ends of their fingers, Nat had turned away from the
bench to welcome the official strangers. There he stood hatless, and
coatless, with his shirt-sleeves stripped up to his elbows, and his
noble brow wet with perspiration, looking little like one who could sway
an audience by the power of his eloquence.
"We are a committee from the town of----instructed to wait on you, and
engage you to address a political convention," said one of them,
breaking the silence.
"When is the convention?" inquired Nat.
"Two weeks from this time, the 15th day of October."
"I will be there," answered Nat, "and do the best I can for you."
The matter was adjusted, and the committee left, evidently thinking that
an orator whose office was a carpenter's shop could not be a remarkable
defender of democratic principles. On their way home, they spoke freely
to each other of their mistake in engaging one so inexperienced to
address the convention. They concluded that it would teach them a good
lesson, and that in future they would not risk the reputation of their
party in unskilful hands.
It is sufficient to say, that Nat filled the appointment to the
satisfaction of the crowd, and the surprise of the committee. Before he
had spoken fifteen minutes, the committee discovered that they had
misjudged the orator, and that he was, indeed, the youthful champion of
their party. His speech fully convinced them that he could address a
political assembly a little better than he could plane a board.
[Footnote A: A good sketch of Eli Whitney's Life, and the lives of some
other self-made men, spoken of in this volume, may be found in
"_Biography of Self-Taught Men_," by Professor B. B. Edwards. Every
youth in the land ought to read this work, not only for the information
it imparts, but for the incentives to "noble, godlike action," which it
presents on almost every page.]