Napoleon and Alexander were both great actors--Napoleon perhaps the
greatest actor the world has ever seen. Whether on the bridge of
Lodi, or in his camp at Tilsit; whether addressing his soldiers in the
plains of Egypt; whether throwing open his old gray coat and saying,
"Children, will you fire on your general?" whether bidding farewell to
them at Fontainebleau; whether standing on the deck of the
_Bellerophon_, or on the rocks of St. Helena--he was always an actor.
Napoleon had studied the art of acting, and he knew its value. If the
power of the eye, the power of the voice, the power of that
all-commanding gesture of the hand, failed him when he faced the
regiment of veterans on his return from Elba, he was lost. But he had
proved and compelled his audience too often for his art to fail him
then. The leveled guns fell. The audience was his. Another crown
had fallen! By what? A trick of the stage! Was he willing to die
then? to be shot by his old guard? Not he! Did he doubt for one
moment his ability as an actor. Not he! If he had, he would have
been lost. And that power to control, that power to command, once it
is possessed by a man, means that that man can play his part anywhere,
and under all circumstances and conditions. Unconsciously or
consciously, every great man, every man who has played a great part,
has been an actor. Each man, every man, who has made his mark has
chosen his character, the character best adapted to himself, and has
played it, and clung to it, and made his impress with it. I have but
to conjure up the figure of Daniel Webster, who never lost an
opportunity to act; or General Grant, who chose for his model William
of Orange, surnamed the Silent. You will find every one of your most
admired heroes choosing early in life some admired hero of his own to
copy. Who can doubt that Napoleon had selected Julius Caesar? For,
once he had founded an empire, everything about him was modelled after
the Caesarean regime. Look at his coronation robes, the women's
gowns--the very furniture! Actors, painters, musicians, politicians,
society men and women, and kings and queens, all play their parts, and
all build themselves after some favourite model. In this woman of
society you trace the influence of the Princess Metternich. In
another we see her admiration (and a very proper one) for Her
Britannic Majesty. In another we behold George Eliot, or Queen Louise
of Prussia, or the influence of some modern society leader. But no
matter who it is, from the lowest to the highest, the actor is
dominant in the human being, and this trait exhibits itself early in
the youngest child. Everywhere you see stage-craft in one form or
another. If men loved not costumes and scenery, would the king be
escorted by the lifeguards, arrayed in shining helmets and
breastplates, which we know are perfectly useless in these days when a
bullet will go through fifty of them with ease? The first thing a man
thinks of when he has to face any ordeal, be it a coronation or an
execution, is, how am I going to look? how am I to behave? what manner
shall I assume? shall I appear calm and dignified, or happy and
pleased? shall I wear a portentous frown or a beaming smile? how shall
I walk? shall I take short steps or long ones? shall I stoop as if
bowed with care, or walk erect with courage and pride? shall I gaze
fearlessly on all about me, or shall I drop my eyes modestly to the
ground? If man were not always acting, he would not think of these
things at all, he would not bother his head about them, but would walk
to his coronation or his execution according to his nature. In the
last event this would have to be, in some cases, on all fours.
I stretch my eyes over the wide world, and the people in it, and I can
see no one who is not playing a part; therefore respect the art of
which you are all devotees, and, if you must act, learn to play your
parts well. Study the acting of others, so that you may discover what
part is being played by others.