MERIDIAN OF SUCCESS AND REPUTATION.—NEW RÔLES OF FEBRO,
MELNOTTE, AND JACK1 CADE.
The interest of his friends and of the public at large in the returning actor was increased by the laurels3 he had won in the mother-country, and the prize hanging on his arm, whose beauty lent a choicer domestic lustre5 to his professional glory. Wherever he played, the theatre was crowded to overflowing7, and the receipts and the applause were unprecedented8. The only alloy9 in his cup—and this was not then so copious10 or so bitter as it afterwards became—was the acrimonious11 and envenomed criticism springing alike from the envious12 and malignant13, who cannot see any one successful without assailing14 him, and from those whose tastes were displeased15 or whose prejudices were offended by his peculiarities17.
While fulfilling an engagement in Boston, he received a very characteristic letter from Leggett, which may serve as a specimen18 of their correspondence. It will be seen that the tragedian had urged on the editor the writing of a play for him on the theme of Jack Cade and his rebellion. He afterwards induced Conrad to reconstruct his play of Aylmere, which in its original form was not suited to his ideas.
"New York, Wednesday evening, Oct. 25th.
"My dear Forrest,—I was in hopes of having a line from you before this time, telling the Boston news, or so much of it at least as concerns you and yours, which is what I care to hear. But you are determined19, I suppose, to maintain the character you have so well earned, of being a most dilatory20 correspondent. I have had the pleasure of hearing this evening, however, through another channel, that you are drawing full houses; and I trust that all is going on well in other respects. Placide and I took a walk
[Pg 324]
out to Bloomingdale last Sunday afternoon, and as we were returning we conjectured21 that you and Catherine were just sitting down at the board of Mr. and Mrs. Manager Barry.
"I have been down town this evening for the first time these several days. I extended my walk to the Park Theatre, where Miss Tree was performing Rosalind. The house was about $500; that at the National, Vandenhoff, could not have exceeded $300. Miss Tree's engagement will conclude with her benefit on Friday evening, when she will probably have between $900 and $1000, making her average for the eleven nights about $650. This is considered a very handsome business. Mad. Caridora Allen opens on Monday evening, and her box sheet already shows a fine display of fashionable names. She will have a full and fine house. She has been giving a touch of her quality at some of the soirées of the exclusives, and is pronounced just the thing. The Woodworth benefit limps tediously along. The returning of your money makes a good deal of talk, and the conduct of the committee is much censured22. The motive23, to injure you, and foist24 up Vandenhoff at your expense, will meet with a sad discomfiture25. My good public is too clear-sighted to be humbugged in so plain a matter.
"I hope you continue to make yourself acquainted with that insolent26 patrician27 Coriolanus. He was not quite so much of a democrat28 as you and I are; but that is no reason why we should not use him if he can do us a service. I wish Shakspeare, with all his divine attributes, had only had a little of that ennobling love of equal human liberty which is now animating29 the hearts of true patriots30 all over the world, and is destined31, ere long, to effect a great and glorious change in the condition of mankind. What a vast and godlike influence he might have exerted in moulding the public mind and guiding the upward progress of nations, if his great genius had not been dazzled by the false glitter of aristocratic institutions, and blinded to the equal rights of the great family of man! Had I a little of his transcendent intellect, I would assert the principles of democratic freedom in a voice that should 'fill the world with echoes.'
"My own affairs remain in statu quo. I am still undetermined what to do. I have been solicited32 to write for the democratic 'Monthly Review,' just established in Washington, and there is
[Pg 325]
some talk among the politicians here of getting up a morning paper, and offering me the place of principal editor. I have been turning over the Jack Cade subject; but I confess I am almost afraid to undertake it. The theme is a grand one, and I warm when I think of it; but I must not mistake the ardor33 of my feelings in the sacred cause of human liberty for ability to manage the mighty34 subject. Besides, the prejudices and prepossessions of the world are against me, with Shakspeare on their side. Who must not feel his feebleness and insignificance35 when called to enter the list against such an antagonist36? I must do something, however, and shortly; for I can now say, with Jaffier, though unlike him I am not devout37 enough to thank Heaven for it, that I am not worth a ducat.
"I took a walk out to New Rochelle on Monday afternoon, and returned yesterday morning. I need not say that you were the theme of much of the conversation while I was there. Many questions were asked me concerning your 'handsome English wife.'
"I shall long very earnestly for the 18th of December to arrive, when I count upon enjoying another month of happiness. 'How happily the days of Thalaba went by' during the five weeks of your late sojourn38 in this city! I shall not speedily forget those pleasant evenings.
"It is past midnight now, and Elmira has been long in bed; otherwise I should be enjoined39 to add her love to mine.
"Good-night, and God bless you both.
"Yours ever,
"Wm. Leggett."
Not long after his return from England, some of the most distinguished40 of his fellow-citizens joined in giving him the compliment of a public dinner. The festival was of a sumptuous41 and magnificent character, and drawing together, as it did, nearly all the marked talent and celebrity42 of Philadelphia, the honor was felt to be one of no ordinary value. Nicholas Biddle was president, supported by six vice-presidents and eleven managers. The banquet was held on the 15th of December, 1837. Over two hundred gentlemen sat down at the table. Mr. Biddle being kept away by a severe illness, the chair was occupied by Hon. J. R.
[Pg 326]
Ingersoll; Mr. Forrest was on his right, and in the immediate43 vicinity were Chief-Justice Gibson, Judge Rogers, Recorder Conrad, Colonel Swift, Mayor of the city, Dr. Jackson, of the University of Pennsylvania, Prof. Mitchell, Dr. Calhoun, Dean of Jefferson College, Morton McMichael, Robert Morris, R. Penn Smith, and Messrs. Dunlap, Banks, Bell, and Doran, members of the Convention then sitting to revise the Constitution of the State. Leggett was present from New York, by special invitation.
The room was elegantly ornamented44. The name of the chief guest was woven in wreaths around the pyramids of confectionery, branded on the bottles of wine, and embossed about various articles of the dessert. No pains were spared to add to the entertainment every charm of grace and taste adapted to gratify its recipient45. One of the city papers said, the next morning,—
"On no former occasion in Philadelphia has there been so numerous and brilliant an assemblage for any similar purpose. The selectness of the company, the zeal46 and enthusiasm they exhibited, and the cordial greetings they bestowed47, must have been especially gratifying to the feelings of Mr. Forrest, springing as these testimonials did from a proud recognition of his worth as a townsman."
The following letter explained the absence of the chosen president of the day:
"Philadelphia, Dec. 15th, 1837.
"Hon. R. T. Conrad,
"My dear Sir,—I regret much that indisposition will prevent me from joining your festival to-day. Feeling, as I do, an intense nationality, which makes the fame of every citizen the common property of the country, I rejoice at all the developments of intellectual power among our countrymen in every walk of life, and I am always anxious to do honor to high faculties48 combined with personal worth. Such a union the common voice ascribes to Mr. Forrest, and I would have gladly added my own applause to the general homage49. But this is impracticable now, and I can therefore only convey through you a sentiment which, if it wants the vigorous expression of health, has at least a sick man's sincerity51. It is,—
[Pg 327]
"The genius of our country, whenever and wherever displayed,—honor to its triumphs in every field of fame.
"With great regard, yours,
"N. Biddle."
The cloth having been removed, Mr. Ingersoll rose, and said,—
"The friends of the drama are desirous of paying a merited tribute of respect and esteem52 to one of the most distinguished and successful of its sons. Well-approved usage upon occasions not dissimilar has pointed53 to this our cheerful greeting as a fitting method for carrying their desires into effect. It combines the compliment of public and unequivocal demonstration54 with the kindness and cordiality of social intercourse55. It serves to express at once opinions the result of deliberate judgment57, and sentiments warm and faithful from the heart.
"To our guest we owe much for having devoted58 to the profession which he has selected an uncommon59 energy of character and peculiar16 personal aptitudes60. They are both adapted to the happiest illustrations of an art which, in the absence of either, would want a finished representative, but, by a rare combination of faculties in him, is enabled effectually 'to hold the mirror up to nature.' It is an art, in the rational pleasures and substantial advantages derived61 from which all are free to participate, and a large proportion of the educated and liberal-minded avail themselves of the privilege. It is an art which, for thousands of years, has been practised with success, admired, and esteemed62; and the men who have adorned63 it by their talents have received the well-earned plaudits of their age, and the honors of a cherished name.
"To our guest we owe the acknowledgment (long delayed, indeed) of the sternest critics of an experienced and enlightened public, not our own, that of one department at least of elegant literature our country has produced the brightest living representative.
"To our guest we owe especial thanks that he has been the prompt, uniform, and liberal patron of his art; that dramatic genius and merit have never appealed to him for aid in vain; that he has devoted the best-directed generosity65, and some of his most brilliant professional efforts, to their cause.
"To our guest we owe unmeasured thanks that he has done
[Pg 328]
much by his personal exertion66, study, and example, to identify our stage with the classic drama, and that he has made the more than modern Æschylus—the myriad-minded Shakspeare—ours.
"We owe him thanks, as members of a well-regulated community, that, by the course and current of his domestic life, the reproaches that are sometimes cast upon his profession have been signally disarmed67.
"And, in this moment of joyous68 festivity, we feel that we owe him unnumbered thanks that he has offered us an opportunity to express for him an unfeigned and cordial regard.
"These sentiments are embraced in a brief but comprehensive toast, which I will ask leave to offer,—
"The Stage and its Master."
Amid loud and long applause, Forrest rose, bowed his acknowledgments, and replied,—
"Mr. President and Gentlemen,—I feel too deeply the honor this day rendered me to be able to express myself in terms of adequate meaning. There are times when the tongue is at best but a poor interpreter of the heart. The strongest emotions do not always clothe themselves in the strongest language. The words which rise to my lips seem too cold and vapid69 to denote truly the sentiments which prompt them. They lack that terseness70 and energy which the occasion deserves.
"The actor usually comes before the public in a 'fiction, in a dream of passion,' and his aim is to suit his utterance71 and the ''havior of the visage' to the unreal situation. But the resources of my art do not avail me here. This is no pageant72 of the stage, to be forgotten with the hour, nor this an audience drawn73 to view its mimic74 scenes.
"I stand amidst a numerous throng75 of the chiefest denizens76 of my native city, convened77 to do me honor; and this costly78 banquet they present to me, a munificent79 token of public regard. I feel, indeed, that I am no actor here. My bosom80 throbs81 with undissembled agitation82, and in the grateful tumult83 of my thoughts I cannot 'beget84 a temperance to give smoothness' to my acknowledgments for so proud a tribute. In the simplest form of speech, then, let me assure you from my inmost heart, I thank you.
"I have but recently returned from England, after performing many nights on those boards where the master-spirits of the stage
[Pg 329]
achieved their noblest triumphs. You have heard from other sources with what kindness I was received, and with what bounteous85 applause my efforts were rewarded. Throughout my sojourn abroad I experienced only the most candid86 and liberal treatment from the public, and the most elegant and cordial hospitality in private. But I rejoice that the time has come round which brings me again to the point from which I started; which places me among those friends whose partial kindness discovered the first unfoldings of my mind, and watched it with assiduous care through all the stages of its subsequent development. The applause of foreign audiences was soothing87 to my pride, but that which I received at home had aroused a deeper sentiment. The people of England bestowed their approbation88 on the results of long practice and severe study, but my countrymen gave me theirs in generous anticipation89 of those results.
"They looked with indulgence on the completed statue; you marked with interest from day to day the progress of the work till the rough block, by gradual change, assumed its present form. Let me hope that it may yet be sculptured to greater symmetry and smoothness, and better deserve your lavish90 regard.
"The sounds and sights which greet me here are linked with thrilling associations. Among the voices which welcome me to-night I distinguish some which were raised in kind approval of my earliest efforts. Among the faces which surround this board I trace lineaments deeply stamped on my memory in that expression of benevolent91 encouragement with which they regarded my juvenile92 attempts, and cheered me onward93 in the outset of my career. I look on your features, sir" (said Mr. F., addressing himself to the Mayor of the city, who occupied a seat by his right), "and my mind glides94 over a long interval95 of time, to a scene I can never forget. Four lustres are now nearly completed since the event occurred to which I allude96.
"A crowd was gathered one evening in the Tivoli Garden, to behold97 the curious varieties of delirium98 men exhibit on inhaling99 nitrous oxide100. Several years had then elapsed since the great chemist of England had made known the singular properties of exhilarating gas; and strange antics performed under its influence by distinguished philosophers, poets, and statesmen of Europe were then on record. It was yet, however, a novelty
[Pg 330]
with us, and the public experiments drew throngs102 to witness them. Among those to whom the intoxicating103 agent was administered (on the occasion referred to) there chanced to be a little unfriended boy, who, in the instant ecstasy104 which the subtle fluid inspired, threw himself into a tragic105 attitude and commenced declaiming a passage from one of Shakspeare's plays. 'What, ho!' he cried, 'young Richmond, ho! 'tis Richard calls; I hate thee, Harry106, for thy blood of Lancaster.' But the effect of the aerial draught107 was brief as it was sudden and irresistible108. The boy, awaking as from a dream, was surprised to find himself the centre of attraction,—'the observed of all observers.' Abashed109 at his novel and awkward position, he shrunk timidly from the glances of the spectators, and would have stolen in haste away. But a stranger stepped from the crowd, and, taking him kindly110 by the hand, pronounced words which thrilled through him with a spell-like influence. 'This lad,' said he, 'has the germ of tragic greatness in him. The exhilarating gas has given him no new power. It has only revealed one which lay dormant111 in him before. It needs only to be cherished and cultivated to bring forth112 goodly fruit.'
"Gentlemen, the present chief magistrate113 of our city was that benevolent stranger, and your guest to-night was that unfriended boy. If the prophecy has been in any degree fulfilled,—if since that time I have attained114 some eminence115 in my profession,—let my full heart acknowledge that the inspiriting prediction, followed as it was with repeated acts of delicate and considerate kindness, exercised the happiest influence on the result. It was a word in season; it was a kindly greeting calculated to arouse all the energies of my nature and direct them to a particular aim. Prophecy oftentimes shapes the event which it seems only to foretell116. One shout of friendly confidence at the beginning of a race may nerve the runner with strength to win the goal.
"Happy he who, on accomplishing his round, is received with generous welcome by the same friends that cheered him at the start. Among such friends I stand. You listened with inspiring praise and augury117 to the immature118 efforts of the boy, and you now honor with this proud token of your approbation the achievements of the man.
"You nurtured119 me in the bud and early blossom of my life,
[Pg 331]
and 'labored120 to make me full of growing.' If you have succeeded, 'the harvest is your own.'
"Mr. President and gentlemen, allow me to offer you, in conclusion, as my sentiment,—
"The Citizens of Philadelphia—Alike ready at the starting-post to cheer genius to exertion, and at the goal to reward it with a chaplet."
The newspaper reporter who described the occasion said,—
"It is not possible to convey by words any idea of the effect produced by this speech. His delivery was natural, forcible, and unaffected; and in many passages all who heard him were moved to tears. At the allusion121 to Colonel Swift, the Mayor of the city, the whole company rose, and, by a common impulse, gave six hearty122 cheers. Mr. Forrest sat down amidst the most vehement123 applause."
Several sentiments were read, and excellent speeches made in response. Morton McMichael ended his eloquent124 remarks thus:
"Before I sit down, however, allow me to call upon one whose genuine eloquence125 will atone126 for my tedious prattle127. For this purpose I shall presently ask the company to join me in a health to one now near me, who, though young in years, has already secured to himself a ripe renown128,—one who, in various departments of literature, has shown a vigorous and searching mind,—one who, in all the circumstances in which he has been placed, whether by prosperous or adverse129 fortune, has so acquitted130 himself, that in him
'Nature might stand up
And say to all the world, this is a man.'
I allude, sir, to the author of 'Conrad of Naples,' a tragedy which, though written in the early years of nonage, bears upon it the unmistakable impress of rich and fruitful soil. Nor is this the only thing which my friend—for I am proud to call him so—has achieved in the difficult walks of the tragic drama. His 'Jack Cade' is a fine, spirited, stirring production, full of noble sentiments, clothed in striking language; and if it could only be so fortunate as to secure for the representative of its hero our own Spartacus, its success upon the stage would be as pre-eminent131 as its deserts are ample. As an essayist, too, this gentleman has made himself extensively known by the energy and brilliance132 of
[Pg 332]
his style, the justness and solidity of his ideas, and the comprehensive range of his information. In years gone by, his contributions to the press of this city were everywhere recognized by their bold and manly133 eloquence; and in the gentle pursuits of the Muses134 he has exhibited a fervor135 of thought and a delicacy136 of expression seldom surpassed by any of our native poets. But I see, sir, that my praises are distasteful to him, and I therefore at once propose
"Robert T. Conrad—Distinguished alike by his success as a dramatist, his skill as a poet, and his rich, ready, and glowing eloquence."
The Hon. R. T. Conrad then addressed the company, as follows:
"To those who are acquainted with the gentleman who has just taken his seat, no act of generosity or kindness coming from him can be wholly unexpected. I will not, therefore, plead, in extenuation137 of my inability to return a suitable acknowledgment, the surprise which his flattering reference to me, and the still more flattering manner in which that reference was received, have excited. I may, however, regret that the excess of his kindness deprives me of the power of speaking the gratitude138 which it inspires,—gratitude which is only rendered more profound by a consciousness that his praises are partial and undeserved. The excitement which, when tranquil139, fans and kindles140 expression, when turbulent, overwhelms and extinguishes it. I feel this on the present occasion. The compliment is not only beyond my ambition, but beyond my strength. It comes to me as Jupiter did to the ambitious beauty of old, consuming while it embraces. I am not, however, so completely consumed in my blushes but that enough of me is left to say to the gentleman who has done me this honor, and to the company who joined in it, that I thank him and them most sincerely.
"Mr. McMichael has alluded141 to my former connection with the drama. The memory of friendship alone could have retained or revived a thought of my humble142 association, at an earlier period of my life, with the literature of the stage. To me the recollection of those studies will ever be grateful. Even the severest and most ascetic143 student can have no reason to regret the time spent in the contemplation of the rich stores of the British drama.
[Pg 333]
He who has dwelt amid its glorious structures—who has had the wizard spell of its mighty masters thrown over his spirit—can never recur144 to it without enjoyment145. Years may pass over him, and the current of life drift him far away from those pursuits, but, when recalled by an occasion like the present, he will come back to them with all his former feelings,—
'Feelings long subdued146,
Subdued, but cherished long.'
He will find all its haunted paths familiar to him, and the flowers that bloom around those paths as fresh and as bright as when they first sprang forth at the call of genius. Its ancient and lofty halls will ring with the old and well-known voices, and its gorgeous and grotesque147 creations pass before him like things of life and substance, rather than the airy nothings of the imagination. If such be its ordinary magic, how potent148 is the spell when the vision becomes half real; when the leaves of the drama, like the written responses of the ancient oracles149, flutter with supernatural life; when the figures start from the lifeless canvas and live and move and have their being in the mighty art of a Forrest! Who that has stepped within the charmed circle traced by his wand would sell the memory of its delight?
'His is the spell o'er hearts
Which only acting150 lends,
The youngest of the sister arts,
Where all their beauty blends:
For poetry can ill express
Full many a tone of thought sublime151,
And painting, mute and motionless,
Steals but a glance of time.
But by the mighty actor brought,
Illusion's perfect triumphs come,
Verse ceases to be airy thought,
And sculpture to be dumb.'"
Mr. Conrad, with an allusion to the Hon. Joseph R. Chandler, gave this sentiment:
"The Press—The source and safeguard of social order, freedom, and refinement152."
Mr. Chandler said,—
"In the concluding portion of the remarks of the gentleman
[Pg 334]
who immediately preceded me, there was an allusion to my early acquaintance with the distinguished guest of the evening. The gentleman was right, sir. I can boast a long acquaintance with our guest, and an early appreciation153 of those talents which have so often delighted us, and which have led their possessor to his present eminence. I was among those who witnessed the scene which has been so graphically154 described by the gentleman himself, and among those who, having such ample means, prophesied155 that success which has been attained; and I now see around me many who are gratified this evening at the full evidence of their prophecy's fulfilment.
"For more than twenty years, sir, I have had occasion to mark the progress of our guest. I hope that the new relations into which that gentleman has entered will not make offensive the unfortunate extent of my reminiscence; it includes only a part of the years of my manhood, while it extends far down into his boyhood. It extends to a time when the first bud of his professional greatness began to blow; but even then what struck his admirers as a new development could not have been new to him,—an earlier love of the profession must have begotten156 some consciousness of latent talent,—and when has a love of a pursuit, and a consciousness of powers to prosecute157 it, failed to give hopes of success? Well, sir, step by step has that gentleman ascended158 the ladder, until he has reached the topmost round; and now, from the proud eminence which he has attained, he invites us to look back with him, and to glory in the means whereby he did ascend159. Sir, he may glory in them; and we, as his friends, may join in the felicitation. Steady and rapid as has been that ascent160, there is none to complain. The hundreds of his profession whom he has passed in his upward flight have cheered him on, and rejoiced in his success, as the deservings of talent and toil161. No envious actor repines at his lower station, but all feel that their profession is honored in the achievements of its most successful member.
"But, sir, I feel that the object of this delightful162 festival is not to reward the brilliant achievements of a performer: proud as we may be, as Philadelphians, of his success, we have a higher motive; we feel, and would by these ceremonies express, that our townsman has successfully trod a path dangerous to all, and that
[Pg 335]
green as is the chaplet which he has acquired as an actor, its beauty and redolence are derived from his virtues165 as a man. The credit of high professional excellence166 is awarded, and the man admired,—that in the case of our honored guest it has served to give exercise to the virtues of the citizen, the friend, and the relative.
"On another, a former occasion, I united with many citizens now here in a festival to a gentleman of eminence as an actor and of high credit as a dramatic author. I allude to Mr. Knowles. The hospitalities of the evening were acknowledged by the recipient, and were made most gratifying to those who extended them. But how different were they from those of this occasion! They lacked the interest of early associations, the sympathy of common citizenship167: the fame we celebrated168 was great, but it was not our own. The occasion then was not like this; we come here not to be hospitable169, nor to extend courtesy to a stranger. We come to express an appreciation of talent, our respects for faculties nobly but meekly170 borne, our gratitude for true Americanism exhibited abroad, and our appreciation of the gentleman at home,—to say to the world that even as a stranger they may applaud the actor in proportion to his deservings, because here at home, where he is fully163 known, the man is loved.
"Sir, alone and unaided has Forrest gained his present eminence, by the ascending171 power of talents and perseverance172 alone; the press has found time only to record his conquests of fame, and this festival is the spontaneous offering of admiring citizens to one of their number, who, in doing so much for himself, has reflected honor on them.
"The Philadelphia press, however, sir, will ever feel it a duty to find it a pleasure to encourage talents of a high order, and to promote their appreciation and reward. I speak the more confidently, as I stand among those of its directors who are concerned themselves in such a course, and who feel their responsibility in this respect to society."
Richard Penn Smith responded to a toast with much felicity. He said "he recalled with pleasure his intercourse with Mr. Forrest, for whom he wrote his tragedy entitled Caius Marius, but regretted that even the transcendent talents of his friend could not save his hero from perishing among the ruins of Carthage."
[Pg 336]
Mr. Smith said that "on such an occasion it would be unpardonable to overlook one who stood foremost in the ranks of our dramatic writers,—a gentleman who had distinguished himself by his various talents as an artist and an author, and whose dramatic works would ultimately secure him an enviable fame." He referred to Wm. Dunlap, of New York, and read the following letter:
"New York, December 11th, 1837.
"Gentlemen,—I received, on the evening of the 9th instant, your polite letter, doing me the honor of requesting my presence at a public dinner to be given to Edwin Forrest on the 15th instant. Nothing but the progress of winter, which I see around me, and feel within, could prevent my testifying in person how highly I appreciate the invitation of the committee and the gentleman to whom the public mark of esteem is to be given. Permit me to offer a toast:
"The American Actor, who, both in public and private life, upholds the honor of his country,—Edwin Forrest.
"William Dunlap."
"Mr. President," said Mr. Smith, "I will offer you a toast, which I have no doubt will be cordially responded to,—
"William Dunlap—The Nestor of the American Drama. May he live to see the edifice173 become what his foundation promised!"
The President called upon Mr. Charles Ingersoll, chairman of the Committee of Invitation, for a sentiment, to which Mr. Ingersoll responded:
"Mr. Chairman,—I have been desired by the committee to propose the health of a gentleman who is among us,—a friend of our immediate guest,—who has left his business in a sister city to comply with their invitation to give us his presence to-day,—a gentleman well known in the department of letters, as our guest upon your right is in that of the drama, as peculiarly and characteristically American. We are met to congratulate upon his successes a man radically174 American. The occasion is, therefore, appropriate to the cultivation175 of nationality,—a virtue164 which, though it is said to have grown into a weed in our political and individual relations, we have never been accused of fostering overmuch in literature and the arts; and he who cultivates it
[Pg 337]
there deserves our signal approbation. Short of that illiberality176 which impedes177 the march of improvement, let us cherish a partiality, an honest, homely178 prejudice, for what is our own. To know ourselves is not the whole circle of wisdom; we must love ourselves too. Who sees an American audience crowd to an American play and turn from Shakspeare to call for Metamora and the Gladiator, and does not acknowledge in this fond prejudice the germ of excellence? Patriotism179 itself is a blind preference of our own earth; and shall there be no patriotism in letters? Take from Walter Scott his local prepossessions,—his Scotch180 kings, Scotch hills, Scotchmen, and the round of characters that he carries with him to all times and all places wherever his scene be laid,—deprive him, in a word, of his nationality, and what is he? Cut from his harp181 his own strings182, and where is his music? There is no virtue without excess; such is human imperfection. Give us, then, nationality, which is but a phase of patriotic183 feeling; give us excess of it. Let us love the yet barren hills of our own literature, and we shall learn to make them wave and smile with harvests. Let our authors, like the gentleman we are about to drink to, strike their roots into their native soil and spread themselves to their native sun, and, like him, they will flourish. I propose
"A health and a hearty welcome to Mr. Leggett, whose pen, pointed by a genius that is his own, is directed by a heart that is all his country's."
Mr. Leggett said, that "to be complimented on such an occasion, and by such an assemblage, with a particular notice, was an honor to which he knew not how to reply. The courteous184 hospitality which made him a partaker with them in their festal ovation185 to his distinguished friend was an honor so far beyond his deserts as to call for his warmest acknowledgments. But 'the exchequer186 of the poor,' thanks alone, contained no coin which he dared offer in requital187 of the obligation they had conferred.
"It is often lamented188" (Mr. L. remarked) "that the actor's art, though more impressive in its instant effects than painting or sculpture, stamps no enduring memorial of its excellence, and that its highest achievements soon fade from recollection, or survive only in its vague and traditionary report. This complaint did not seem to him altogether just. We best know how to esti
[Pg 338]
mate causes from the effects they produce. The consequences of actions are their most lasting189 and authentic190 chroniclers. What portrait, or what statue, could have conveyed to us so exalted191 a notion of the loveliness of Helen of Troy as the ten years' war provoked by her fatal charms? What 'storied urn2 or animated192 bust193' could have perpetuated194 the memory of Roscius like the honors bestowed on him by the Roman Senate, the eulogium of Cicero, and the tears—more eloquent than words—shed by that immortal195 orator196 upon his grave?
"When I look around me, and behold this capacious hall thronged197 with men eminent for station, admired for talent, and valued for various private worth, and when I reflect on the object which convenes198 them here, I cannot admit the peculiar perishableness of the actor's fame, I cannot admit that he merely 'struts199 and frets200 his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more.' You have reared a monument to one actor, at least, gentlemen, which will long commemorate201 his greatness, and convey to your children, and your children's children, a lively impression of the genius and virtues which elicited202 so proud and enviable a tribute!"
Mr. Leggett returned his sincere thanks for the honor of inscribing203 his name on so enduring a record, and said he was proud to have it associated with the proceedings204 of that day.
In conclusion, he asked the company to fill their glasses to the following sentiment:
"Philadelphia—The Rome of the new world in this, that she has given a second Roscius to mankind, while another of her sons bids fair to win for her Athenian distinction by rivalling the fame of Æschylus."
Passing over the other speeches as of little interest now, it may be well to state that among the letters of excuse read was one from Washington Irving, regretting that it was not in his "power to join in this well-merited tribute to theatrical205 genius and private worth;" one from William Cullen Bryant, saying that it would give him "the greatest pleasure to unite in any testimony206 to the professional merit and personal worth of Mr. Forrest;" one from John P. Kennedy, who "would rejoice in such an opportunity to acknowledge his share of the indebtedness which the country at large owes to a gentleman whose fame in his profession has become common property;" and one from the celebrated
[Pg 339]
player W. E. Burton, enclosing this happy toast: "The Stage of Life,—although cast into inferior parts at the commencement, industry and perseverance may eventually place us in the principal characters. May we be found perfect at the conclusion of the play!"
Songs and music were interspersed207 among the addresses, the famous vocalist Henry Russell singing several of his most exquisite208 ballads209 with unrivalled effect; and the occasion, altogether, was one of unclouded enjoyment in the passage and of lasting satisfaction in the retrospect210.
Forrest now purchased a house in New York, and established his home there. He took a pew in the church of the Rev6. Orville Dewey, the brilliant Unitarian divine, on whose pulpit ministrations he was for a series of years a regular attendant whenever he was in the city. The attraction of this extremely original and eloquent preacher had drawn together the most intellectual and cultivated congregation in New York; and his influence, silently and in many an unrecognized channel, has been diffusing211 itself ever since. The bold, rational, poetic212, yet profoundly tender and devout style of thought and speech which characterized the sermons of Dewey had a great charm for Forrest, and they were never forgotten by him. He always believed in a God whose will is revealed in the laws of the material universe, and in the rightful order of human life, and he bowed in reverence213 at the thought of this mysterious Being, though often perplexed214 with doubts as to particular doctrines215, and always a sworn enemy to religious dogmatism.
The next event which interrupted the regular movement of his professional and private life was the delivery of the oration216 at the celebration, in the city of New York, of the sixty-second anniversary of the Declaration of the Independence of the United States. The celebration was held under the auspices217 of the Democratic party. Party feeling was intense at the time, and to be the orator of the day on the Fourth of July, in the chief metropolis218 of the land, was an honor greatly coveted219. The choice of Forrest showed the estimation in which he was held, while, on the other hand, his personal celebrity and magnetism220 lent unusual interest to the occasion. The popular desire to hear him had been fed and fanned to the highest pitch by the opposing newspaper com
[Pg 340]
ments, called out by the singular incident of a political party selecting a tragedian as their orator. The services were held in the old Broadway Tabernacle. Five thousand tickets of admission had been given out, but the multitude rushed resistlessly in, regardless of tickets, till the enormous building was stuffed to suffocation221. The oration, in its sentiments, its style, its delivery, was extraordinarily222 successful. It was hailed with the most extravagant223 admiration224 and praise. In thought and feeling it was really creditable to its author, but its fervid225 rhetorical sentences and popular temper were so exactly suited to the tastes of those who heard it, that their estimate of its literary rank and philosophic226 value was stimulated227 to a level that must seem amusing to any sober judge of such things. The author's own opinion of it was modest enough, as appeared in the apologetic preface he prefixed to it when published. Yet it expressed his honest convictions and those of his auditors228 with so much picturesque229 vigor50, and those convictions were so generous and so genuinely American, that the popularity of the oration was no matter of wonder. It was printed in full in numerous journals, and many thousands of copies in pamphlet form were distributed. Two or three extracts from it are appended, to serve as specimens230 of its quality and indications of the mind and heart of the author.
"Fellow-Citizens,—We are met this day to celebrate the most august event which ever constituted an epoch231 in the political annals of mankind. The ordinary occasions of public festivals and rejoicings lie at an infinite depth below that which convenes us here. We meet not in honor of a victory achieved on the crimson232 field of war; not to triumph in the acquisitions of rapine; nor to commemorate the accomplishment233 of a vain revolution which but substituted one dynasty of tyrants234 for another. No glittering display of military pomp and pride, no empty pageant of regal grandeur235, allures236 us hither. We come not to daze237 our eyes with the lustre of a diadem238, placed, with all its attributes of tremendous power, on the head of a being as weak, as blind, as mortal as ourselves. We come not to celebrate the birthday of a despot, but the birthday of a nation; not to bow down in senseless homage before a throne founded on the prostrate239 rights of man, but to stand erect240 in the conscious dignity of equal freedom and join our voices in the loud acclaim241 now swelling242 from
[Pg 341]
the grateful hearts of fifteen millions of men in acknowledgment of the glorious charter of liberty our fathers this day proclaimed to the world.
"How simple, how sublime, is the occasion of our meeting! This vast assemblage is drawn together to solemnize the anniversary of an event which appeals not to their senses nor to their passions, but to their reason; to triumph at a victory, not of might, but of right; to rejoice in the establishment, not of physical dominion243, but of an abstract proposition. We are met to celebrate the declaration of that inestimable principle which asserts the political equality of mankind. We are met in honor of the promulgation244 of that charter by which we are recognized as joint245 sovereigns of an empire of freemen; holding our sovereignty by a right indeed divine,—the immutable246, eternal, irresistible right of self-evident truth. We are met, fellow-citizens, to commemorate the laying of the corner-stone of democratic liberty.
"Threescore years and two have now elapsed since our fathers ventured on the grand experiment of freedom. The nations of the earth heard with wonder the startling principle they asserted, and watched the progress of their enterprise with doubt and apprehension247. The heart of the political philanthropist throbbed248 with anxiety for the result; the down-trodden victims of oppression scarce dared to lift their eyes in hope of a successful termination, while they knew that failure would more strongly rivet249 their chains; and the despots of the Old World, from their 'bad eminences,' gloomily looked on, aghast with rage and terror, and felt that a blow had been struck which loosened the foundation of their thrones.
"The event illustrates250 what ample cause there was for the prophetic tremors251 which thrilled to the soul of arbitrary power. Time has stamped the attestation252 of its signet on the success of the experiment, and the fabric253 then erected254 now stands on the strong basis of established truth, the mark and model of the world. The vicissitudes255 of threescore years, while they have shaken to the centre the artificial foundations of other governments, have but demonstrated the solidity of the simple and natural structure of democratic freedom. The lapse101 of time, while it dims the light of false systems, has continually aug
[Pg 342]
mented the brightness of that which glows with the inherent and eternal lustre of reason and justice. New stars, from year to year, emerging with perfect radiance in the western horizon, have increased the benignant splendor256 of that constellation257 which now shines the political guiding light of the world.
"How grand in their simplicity258 are the elementary propositions on which our edifice of freedom is erected! A few brief, self-evident axioms furnish the enduring basis of political institutions which harmoniously259 accomplish all the legitimate260 purposes of government to fifteen millions of people. The natural equality of man; the right of a majority to govern; their duty so to govern as to preserve inviolate261 the sacred obligations of equal justice, with no end in view but the protection of life, property, and social order, leaving opinion free as the wind which bloweth where it listeth: these are the plain, eternal principles on which our fathers reared that temple of true liberty beneath whose dome4 their children congregate262 this day to pour out their hearts in gratitude for the precious legacy263. Yes! on the everlasting264 rock of truth the shrine265 is founded where we worship freedom; and
'When the sweeping266 storm of time
Has sung its death-dirge o'er the ruined fanes
And broken altars of the mighty fiend
Whose name usurps267 her honors, and the blood,
Through centuries clotted268 there, has floated down
The tainted269 flood of ages,'—
that shrine shall stand, unshaken by the beating surge of change, and only washed to purer whiteness by the deluge270 that overwhelms all other political fabrics271.
"To the genius of Bacon the world is indebted for emancipating272 philosophy from the subtleties273 of the schoolmen, and placing her securely on the firm basis of ascertained274 elementary truth, thence to soar the loftiest flights on the unfailing pinions56 of induction275 and analogy. To the genius of Jefferson—to the comprehensive reach and fervid patriotism of his mind—we owe a more momentous276 obligation. What Bacon did for natural science, Jefferson did for political morals, that important branch of ethics277 which most directly affects the happiness of all mankind. He snatched the art of government from the hands that had enveloped278 it in sophisms and mysteries that it might be made an instrument to
[Pg 343]
oppress the many for the advantage of the few. He stripped it of the jargon279 by which the human mind had been deluded280 into blind veneration281 for kings as the immediate vicegerents of God on earth; and proclaimed in words of eloquent truth, which thrilled conviction to every heart, those eternal self-evident first principles of justice and reason on which alone the fabric of government should be reared. He taught those 'truths of power in words immortal' you have this day heard; words which bear the spirit of great deeds; words which have sounded the death-dirge of tyranny to the remotest corners of the earth; which have roused a sense of right, a hatred282 of oppression, an intense yearning283 for democratic liberty, in myriads284 of myriads of human hearts; and which, reverberating285 through time like thunder through the sky, will,
'in the distance far away,
Wake the slumbering286 ages.'
"To Jefferson belongs exclusively and forever the high renown of having framed the glorious charter of American liberty. This was the grandest experiment ever undertaken in the history of man. But they that entered upon it were not afraid of new experiments, if founded on the immutable principles of right and approved by the sober convictions of reason. There were not wanting then, indeed, as there are not wanting now, pale counsellors to fear, who would have withheld287 them from the course they were pursuing, because it tended in a direction hitherto untrod. But they were not to be deterred288 by the shadowy doubts and timid suggestions of craven spirits, content to be lashed289 forever round the same circle of miserable290 expedients291, perpetually trying anew the exploded shifts which had always proved lamentably292 inadequate293 before. To such men the very name of experiment is a sound of horror. It is a spell which conjures294 up gorgons, hydras, and chimeras295 dire64. They seem not to know that all that is valuable in life—that the acquisitions of learning, the discoveries of science, and the refinements296 of art—are the result of experiment. It was experiment that bestowed on Cadmus those keys of knowledge with which we unlock the treasure-houses of immortal mind. It was experiment that taught Bacon the futility297 of the Grecian philosophy, and led him to that heaven-scaling method of investigation298 and analysis on which science
[Pg 344]
has safely climbed to the proud eminence where now she sits, dispensing299 her blessings300 on mankind. It was experiment that lifted Newton above the clouds and darkness of this visible diurnal301 sphere, enabling him to explore the sublime mechanism302 of the stars and weigh the planets in their eternal rounds. It was experiment that nerved the hand of Franklin to snatch the thunder from the armory303 of heaven. It was experiment that gave this hemisphere to the world. It was experiment that gave this continent to freedom.
MELNOTTE, AND JACK1 CADE.
The interest of his friends and of the public at large in the returning actor was increased by the laurels3 he had won in the mother-country, and the prize hanging on his arm, whose beauty lent a choicer domestic lustre5 to his professional glory. Wherever he played, the theatre was crowded to overflowing7, and the receipts and the applause were unprecedented8. The only alloy9 in his cup—and this was not then so copious10 or so bitter as it afterwards became—was the acrimonious11 and envenomed criticism springing alike from the envious12 and malignant13, who cannot see any one successful without assailing14 him, and from those whose tastes were displeased15 or whose prejudices were offended by his peculiarities17.
While fulfilling an engagement in Boston, he received a very characteristic letter from Leggett, which may serve as a specimen18 of their correspondence. It will be seen that the tragedian had urged on the editor the writing of a play for him on the theme of Jack Cade and his rebellion. He afterwards induced Conrad to reconstruct his play of Aylmere, which in its original form was not suited to his ideas.
"New York, Wednesday evening, Oct. 25th.
"My dear Forrest,—I was in hopes of having a line from you before this time, telling the Boston news, or so much of it at least as concerns you and yours, which is what I care to hear. But you are determined19, I suppose, to maintain the character you have so well earned, of being a most dilatory20 correspondent. I have had the pleasure of hearing this evening, however, through another channel, that you are drawing full houses; and I trust that all is going on well in other respects. Placide and I took a walk
[Pg 324]
out to Bloomingdale last Sunday afternoon, and as we were returning we conjectured21 that you and Catherine were just sitting down at the board of Mr. and Mrs. Manager Barry.
"I have been down town this evening for the first time these several days. I extended my walk to the Park Theatre, where Miss Tree was performing Rosalind. The house was about $500; that at the National, Vandenhoff, could not have exceeded $300. Miss Tree's engagement will conclude with her benefit on Friday evening, when she will probably have between $900 and $1000, making her average for the eleven nights about $650. This is considered a very handsome business. Mad. Caridora Allen opens on Monday evening, and her box sheet already shows a fine display of fashionable names. She will have a full and fine house. She has been giving a touch of her quality at some of the soirées of the exclusives, and is pronounced just the thing. The Woodworth benefit limps tediously along. The returning of your money makes a good deal of talk, and the conduct of the committee is much censured22. The motive23, to injure you, and foist24 up Vandenhoff at your expense, will meet with a sad discomfiture25. My good public is too clear-sighted to be humbugged in so plain a matter.
"I hope you continue to make yourself acquainted with that insolent26 patrician27 Coriolanus. He was not quite so much of a democrat28 as you and I are; but that is no reason why we should not use him if he can do us a service. I wish Shakspeare, with all his divine attributes, had only had a little of that ennobling love of equal human liberty which is now animating29 the hearts of true patriots30 all over the world, and is destined31, ere long, to effect a great and glorious change in the condition of mankind. What a vast and godlike influence he might have exerted in moulding the public mind and guiding the upward progress of nations, if his great genius had not been dazzled by the false glitter of aristocratic institutions, and blinded to the equal rights of the great family of man! Had I a little of his transcendent intellect, I would assert the principles of democratic freedom in a voice that should 'fill the world with echoes.'
"My own affairs remain in statu quo. I am still undetermined what to do. I have been solicited32 to write for the democratic 'Monthly Review,' just established in Washington, and there is
[Pg 325]
some talk among the politicians here of getting up a morning paper, and offering me the place of principal editor. I have been turning over the Jack Cade subject; but I confess I am almost afraid to undertake it. The theme is a grand one, and I warm when I think of it; but I must not mistake the ardor33 of my feelings in the sacred cause of human liberty for ability to manage the mighty34 subject. Besides, the prejudices and prepossessions of the world are against me, with Shakspeare on their side. Who must not feel his feebleness and insignificance35 when called to enter the list against such an antagonist36? I must do something, however, and shortly; for I can now say, with Jaffier, though unlike him I am not devout37 enough to thank Heaven for it, that I am not worth a ducat.
"I took a walk out to New Rochelle on Monday afternoon, and returned yesterday morning. I need not say that you were the theme of much of the conversation while I was there. Many questions were asked me concerning your 'handsome English wife.'
"I shall long very earnestly for the 18th of December to arrive, when I count upon enjoying another month of happiness. 'How happily the days of Thalaba went by' during the five weeks of your late sojourn38 in this city! I shall not speedily forget those pleasant evenings.
"It is past midnight now, and Elmira has been long in bed; otherwise I should be enjoined39 to add her love to mine.
"Good-night, and God bless you both.
"Yours ever,
"Wm. Leggett."
Not long after his return from England, some of the most distinguished40 of his fellow-citizens joined in giving him the compliment of a public dinner. The festival was of a sumptuous41 and magnificent character, and drawing together, as it did, nearly all the marked talent and celebrity42 of Philadelphia, the honor was felt to be one of no ordinary value. Nicholas Biddle was president, supported by six vice-presidents and eleven managers. The banquet was held on the 15th of December, 1837. Over two hundred gentlemen sat down at the table. Mr. Biddle being kept away by a severe illness, the chair was occupied by Hon. J. R.
[Pg 326]
Ingersoll; Mr. Forrest was on his right, and in the immediate43 vicinity were Chief-Justice Gibson, Judge Rogers, Recorder Conrad, Colonel Swift, Mayor of the city, Dr. Jackson, of the University of Pennsylvania, Prof. Mitchell, Dr. Calhoun, Dean of Jefferson College, Morton McMichael, Robert Morris, R. Penn Smith, and Messrs. Dunlap, Banks, Bell, and Doran, members of the Convention then sitting to revise the Constitution of the State. Leggett was present from New York, by special invitation.
The room was elegantly ornamented44. The name of the chief guest was woven in wreaths around the pyramids of confectionery, branded on the bottles of wine, and embossed about various articles of the dessert. No pains were spared to add to the entertainment every charm of grace and taste adapted to gratify its recipient45. One of the city papers said, the next morning,—
"On no former occasion in Philadelphia has there been so numerous and brilliant an assemblage for any similar purpose. The selectness of the company, the zeal46 and enthusiasm they exhibited, and the cordial greetings they bestowed47, must have been especially gratifying to the feelings of Mr. Forrest, springing as these testimonials did from a proud recognition of his worth as a townsman."
The following letter explained the absence of the chosen president of the day:
"Philadelphia, Dec. 15th, 1837.
"Hon. R. T. Conrad,
"My dear Sir,—I regret much that indisposition will prevent me from joining your festival to-day. Feeling, as I do, an intense nationality, which makes the fame of every citizen the common property of the country, I rejoice at all the developments of intellectual power among our countrymen in every walk of life, and I am always anxious to do honor to high faculties48 combined with personal worth. Such a union the common voice ascribes to Mr. Forrest, and I would have gladly added my own applause to the general homage49. But this is impracticable now, and I can therefore only convey through you a sentiment which, if it wants the vigorous expression of health, has at least a sick man's sincerity51. It is,—
[Pg 327]
"The genius of our country, whenever and wherever displayed,—honor to its triumphs in every field of fame.
"With great regard, yours,
"N. Biddle."
The cloth having been removed, Mr. Ingersoll rose, and said,—
"The friends of the drama are desirous of paying a merited tribute of respect and esteem52 to one of the most distinguished and successful of its sons. Well-approved usage upon occasions not dissimilar has pointed53 to this our cheerful greeting as a fitting method for carrying their desires into effect. It combines the compliment of public and unequivocal demonstration54 with the kindness and cordiality of social intercourse55. It serves to express at once opinions the result of deliberate judgment57, and sentiments warm and faithful from the heart.
"To our guest we owe much for having devoted58 to the profession which he has selected an uncommon59 energy of character and peculiar16 personal aptitudes60. They are both adapted to the happiest illustrations of an art which, in the absence of either, would want a finished representative, but, by a rare combination of faculties in him, is enabled effectually 'to hold the mirror up to nature.' It is an art, in the rational pleasures and substantial advantages derived61 from which all are free to participate, and a large proportion of the educated and liberal-minded avail themselves of the privilege. It is an art which, for thousands of years, has been practised with success, admired, and esteemed62; and the men who have adorned63 it by their talents have received the well-earned plaudits of their age, and the honors of a cherished name.
"To our guest we owe the acknowledgment (long delayed, indeed) of the sternest critics of an experienced and enlightened public, not our own, that of one department at least of elegant literature our country has produced the brightest living representative.
"To our guest we owe especial thanks that he has been the prompt, uniform, and liberal patron of his art; that dramatic genius and merit have never appealed to him for aid in vain; that he has devoted the best-directed generosity65, and some of his most brilliant professional efforts, to their cause.
"To our guest we owe unmeasured thanks that he has done
[Pg 328]
much by his personal exertion66, study, and example, to identify our stage with the classic drama, and that he has made the more than modern Æschylus—the myriad-minded Shakspeare—ours.
"We owe him thanks, as members of a well-regulated community, that, by the course and current of his domestic life, the reproaches that are sometimes cast upon his profession have been signally disarmed67.
"And, in this moment of joyous68 festivity, we feel that we owe him unnumbered thanks that he has offered us an opportunity to express for him an unfeigned and cordial regard.
"These sentiments are embraced in a brief but comprehensive toast, which I will ask leave to offer,—
"The Stage and its Master."
Amid loud and long applause, Forrest rose, bowed his acknowledgments, and replied,—
"Mr. President and Gentlemen,—I feel too deeply the honor this day rendered me to be able to express myself in terms of adequate meaning. There are times when the tongue is at best but a poor interpreter of the heart. The strongest emotions do not always clothe themselves in the strongest language. The words which rise to my lips seem too cold and vapid69 to denote truly the sentiments which prompt them. They lack that terseness70 and energy which the occasion deserves.
"The actor usually comes before the public in a 'fiction, in a dream of passion,' and his aim is to suit his utterance71 and the ''havior of the visage' to the unreal situation. But the resources of my art do not avail me here. This is no pageant72 of the stage, to be forgotten with the hour, nor this an audience drawn73 to view its mimic74 scenes.
"I stand amidst a numerous throng75 of the chiefest denizens76 of my native city, convened77 to do me honor; and this costly78 banquet they present to me, a munificent79 token of public regard. I feel, indeed, that I am no actor here. My bosom80 throbs81 with undissembled agitation82, and in the grateful tumult83 of my thoughts I cannot 'beget84 a temperance to give smoothness' to my acknowledgments for so proud a tribute. In the simplest form of speech, then, let me assure you from my inmost heart, I thank you.
"I have but recently returned from England, after performing many nights on those boards where the master-spirits of the stage
[Pg 329]
achieved their noblest triumphs. You have heard from other sources with what kindness I was received, and with what bounteous85 applause my efforts were rewarded. Throughout my sojourn abroad I experienced only the most candid86 and liberal treatment from the public, and the most elegant and cordial hospitality in private. But I rejoice that the time has come round which brings me again to the point from which I started; which places me among those friends whose partial kindness discovered the first unfoldings of my mind, and watched it with assiduous care through all the stages of its subsequent development. The applause of foreign audiences was soothing87 to my pride, but that which I received at home had aroused a deeper sentiment. The people of England bestowed their approbation88 on the results of long practice and severe study, but my countrymen gave me theirs in generous anticipation89 of those results.
"They looked with indulgence on the completed statue; you marked with interest from day to day the progress of the work till the rough block, by gradual change, assumed its present form. Let me hope that it may yet be sculptured to greater symmetry and smoothness, and better deserve your lavish90 regard.
"The sounds and sights which greet me here are linked with thrilling associations. Among the voices which welcome me to-night I distinguish some which were raised in kind approval of my earliest efforts. Among the faces which surround this board I trace lineaments deeply stamped on my memory in that expression of benevolent91 encouragement with which they regarded my juvenile92 attempts, and cheered me onward93 in the outset of my career. I look on your features, sir" (said Mr. F., addressing himself to the Mayor of the city, who occupied a seat by his right), "and my mind glides94 over a long interval95 of time, to a scene I can never forget. Four lustres are now nearly completed since the event occurred to which I allude96.
"A crowd was gathered one evening in the Tivoli Garden, to behold97 the curious varieties of delirium98 men exhibit on inhaling99 nitrous oxide100. Several years had then elapsed since the great chemist of England had made known the singular properties of exhilarating gas; and strange antics performed under its influence by distinguished philosophers, poets, and statesmen of Europe were then on record. It was yet, however, a novelty
[Pg 330]
with us, and the public experiments drew throngs102 to witness them. Among those to whom the intoxicating103 agent was administered (on the occasion referred to) there chanced to be a little unfriended boy, who, in the instant ecstasy104 which the subtle fluid inspired, threw himself into a tragic105 attitude and commenced declaiming a passage from one of Shakspeare's plays. 'What, ho!' he cried, 'young Richmond, ho! 'tis Richard calls; I hate thee, Harry106, for thy blood of Lancaster.' But the effect of the aerial draught107 was brief as it was sudden and irresistible108. The boy, awaking as from a dream, was surprised to find himself the centre of attraction,—'the observed of all observers.' Abashed109 at his novel and awkward position, he shrunk timidly from the glances of the spectators, and would have stolen in haste away. But a stranger stepped from the crowd, and, taking him kindly110 by the hand, pronounced words which thrilled through him with a spell-like influence. 'This lad,' said he, 'has the germ of tragic greatness in him. The exhilarating gas has given him no new power. It has only revealed one which lay dormant111 in him before. It needs only to be cherished and cultivated to bring forth112 goodly fruit.'
"Gentlemen, the present chief magistrate113 of our city was that benevolent stranger, and your guest to-night was that unfriended boy. If the prophecy has been in any degree fulfilled,—if since that time I have attained114 some eminence115 in my profession,—let my full heart acknowledge that the inspiriting prediction, followed as it was with repeated acts of delicate and considerate kindness, exercised the happiest influence on the result. It was a word in season; it was a kindly greeting calculated to arouse all the energies of my nature and direct them to a particular aim. Prophecy oftentimes shapes the event which it seems only to foretell116. One shout of friendly confidence at the beginning of a race may nerve the runner with strength to win the goal.
"Happy he who, on accomplishing his round, is received with generous welcome by the same friends that cheered him at the start. Among such friends I stand. You listened with inspiring praise and augury117 to the immature118 efforts of the boy, and you now honor with this proud token of your approbation the achievements of the man.
"You nurtured119 me in the bud and early blossom of my life,
[Pg 331]
and 'labored120 to make me full of growing.' If you have succeeded, 'the harvest is your own.'
"Mr. President and gentlemen, allow me to offer you, in conclusion, as my sentiment,—
"The Citizens of Philadelphia—Alike ready at the starting-post to cheer genius to exertion, and at the goal to reward it with a chaplet."
The newspaper reporter who described the occasion said,—
"It is not possible to convey by words any idea of the effect produced by this speech. His delivery was natural, forcible, and unaffected; and in many passages all who heard him were moved to tears. At the allusion121 to Colonel Swift, the Mayor of the city, the whole company rose, and, by a common impulse, gave six hearty122 cheers. Mr. Forrest sat down amidst the most vehement123 applause."
Several sentiments were read, and excellent speeches made in response. Morton McMichael ended his eloquent124 remarks thus:
"Before I sit down, however, allow me to call upon one whose genuine eloquence125 will atone126 for my tedious prattle127. For this purpose I shall presently ask the company to join me in a health to one now near me, who, though young in years, has already secured to himself a ripe renown128,—one who, in various departments of literature, has shown a vigorous and searching mind,—one who, in all the circumstances in which he has been placed, whether by prosperous or adverse129 fortune, has so acquitted130 himself, that in him
'Nature might stand up
And say to all the world, this is a man.'
I allude, sir, to the author of 'Conrad of Naples,' a tragedy which, though written in the early years of nonage, bears upon it the unmistakable impress of rich and fruitful soil. Nor is this the only thing which my friend—for I am proud to call him so—has achieved in the difficult walks of the tragic drama. His 'Jack Cade' is a fine, spirited, stirring production, full of noble sentiments, clothed in striking language; and if it could only be so fortunate as to secure for the representative of its hero our own Spartacus, its success upon the stage would be as pre-eminent131 as its deserts are ample. As an essayist, too, this gentleman has made himself extensively known by the energy and brilliance132 of
[Pg 332]
his style, the justness and solidity of his ideas, and the comprehensive range of his information. In years gone by, his contributions to the press of this city were everywhere recognized by their bold and manly133 eloquence; and in the gentle pursuits of the Muses134 he has exhibited a fervor135 of thought and a delicacy136 of expression seldom surpassed by any of our native poets. But I see, sir, that my praises are distasteful to him, and I therefore at once propose
"Robert T. Conrad—Distinguished alike by his success as a dramatist, his skill as a poet, and his rich, ready, and glowing eloquence."
The Hon. R. T. Conrad then addressed the company, as follows:
"To those who are acquainted with the gentleman who has just taken his seat, no act of generosity or kindness coming from him can be wholly unexpected. I will not, therefore, plead, in extenuation137 of my inability to return a suitable acknowledgment, the surprise which his flattering reference to me, and the still more flattering manner in which that reference was received, have excited. I may, however, regret that the excess of his kindness deprives me of the power of speaking the gratitude138 which it inspires,—gratitude which is only rendered more profound by a consciousness that his praises are partial and undeserved. The excitement which, when tranquil139, fans and kindles140 expression, when turbulent, overwhelms and extinguishes it. I feel this on the present occasion. The compliment is not only beyond my ambition, but beyond my strength. It comes to me as Jupiter did to the ambitious beauty of old, consuming while it embraces. I am not, however, so completely consumed in my blushes but that enough of me is left to say to the gentleman who has done me this honor, and to the company who joined in it, that I thank him and them most sincerely.
"Mr. McMichael has alluded141 to my former connection with the drama. The memory of friendship alone could have retained or revived a thought of my humble142 association, at an earlier period of my life, with the literature of the stage. To me the recollection of those studies will ever be grateful. Even the severest and most ascetic143 student can have no reason to regret the time spent in the contemplation of the rich stores of the British drama.
[Pg 333]
He who has dwelt amid its glorious structures—who has had the wizard spell of its mighty masters thrown over his spirit—can never recur144 to it without enjoyment145. Years may pass over him, and the current of life drift him far away from those pursuits, but, when recalled by an occasion like the present, he will come back to them with all his former feelings,—
'Feelings long subdued146,
Subdued, but cherished long.'
He will find all its haunted paths familiar to him, and the flowers that bloom around those paths as fresh and as bright as when they first sprang forth at the call of genius. Its ancient and lofty halls will ring with the old and well-known voices, and its gorgeous and grotesque147 creations pass before him like things of life and substance, rather than the airy nothings of the imagination. If such be its ordinary magic, how potent148 is the spell when the vision becomes half real; when the leaves of the drama, like the written responses of the ancient oracles149, flutter with supernatural life; when the figures start from the lifeless canvas and live and move and have their being in the mighty art of a Forrest! Who that has stepped within the charmed circle traced by his wand would sell the memory of its delight?
'His is the spell o'er hearts
Which only acting150 lends,
The youngest of the sister arts,
Where all their beauty blends:
For poetry can ill express
Full many a tone of thought sublime151,
And painting, mute and motionless,
Steals but a glance of time.
But by the mighty actor brought,
Illusion's perfect triumphs come,
Verse ceases to be airy thought,
And sculpture to be dumb.'"
Mr. Conrad, with an allusion to the Hon. Joseph R. Chandler, gave this sentiment:
"The Press—The source and safeguard of social order, freedom, and refinement152."
Mr. Chandler said,—
"In the concluding portion of the remarks of the gentleman
[Pg 334]
who immediately preceded me, there was an allusion to my early acquaintance with the distinguished guest of the evening. The gentleman was right, sir. I can boast a long acquaintance with our guest, and an early appreciation153 of those talents which have so often delighted us, and which have led their possessor to his present eminence. I was among those who witnessed the scene which has been so graphically154 described by the gentleman himself, and among those who, having such ample means, prophesied155 that success which has been attained; and I now see around me many who are gratified this evening at the full evidence of their prophecy's fulfilment.
"For more than twenty years, sir, I have had occasion to mark the progress of our guest. I hope that the new relations into which that gentleman has entered will not make offensive the unfortunate extent of my reminiscence; it includes only a part of the years of my manhood, while it extends far down into his boyhood. It extends to a time when the first bud of his professional greatness began to blow; but even then what struck his admirers as a new development could not have been new to him,—an earlier love of the profession must have begotten156 some consciousness of latent talent,—and when has a love of a pursuit, and a consciousness of powers to prosecute157 it, failed to give hopes of success? Well, sir, step by step has that gentleman ascended158 the ladder, until he has reached the topmost round; and now, from the proud eminence which he has attained, he invites us to look back with him, and to glory in the means whereby he did ascend159. Sir, he may glory in them; and we, as his friends, may join in the felicitation. Steady and rapid as has been that ascent160, there is none to complain. The hundreds of his profession whom he has passed in his upward flight have cheered him on, and rejoiced in his success, as the deservings of talent and toil161. No envious actor repines at his lower station, but all feel that their profession is honored in the achievements of its most successful member.
"But, sir, I feel that the object of this delightful162 festival is not to reward the brilliant achievements of a performer: proud as we may be, as Philadelphians, of his success, we have a higher motive; we feel, and would by these ceremonies express, that our townsman has successfully trod a path dangerous to all, and that
[Pg 335]
green as is the chaplet which he has acquired as an actor, its beauty and redolence are derived from his virtues165 as a man. The credit of high professional excellence166 is awarded, and the man admired,—that in the case of our honored guest it has served to give exercise to the virtues of the citizen, the friend, and the relative.
"On another, a former occasion, I united with many citizens now here in a festival to a gentleman of eminence as an actor and of high credit as a dramatic author. I allude to Mr. Knowles. The hospitalities of the evening were acknowledged by the recipient, and were made most gratifying to those who extended them. But how different were they from those of this occasion! They lacked the interest of early associations, the sympathy of common citizenship167: the fame we celebrated168 was great, but it was not our own. The occasion then was not like this; we come here not to be hospitable169, nor to extend courtesy to a stranger. We come to express an appreciation of talent, our respects for faculties nobly but meekly170 borne, our gratitude for true Americanism exhibited abroad, and our appreciation of the gentleman at home,—to say to the world that even as a stranger they may applaud the actor in proportion to his deservings, because here at home, where he is fully163 known, the man is loved.
"Sir, alone and unaided has Forrest gained his present eminence, by the ascending171 power of talents and perseverance172 alone; the press has found time only to record his conquests of fame, and this festival is the spontaneous offering of admiring citizens to one of their number, who, in doing so much for himself, has reflected honor on them.
"The Philadelphia press, however, sir, will ever feel it a duty to find it a pleasure to encourage talents of a high order, and to promote their appreciation and reward. I speak the more confidently, as I stand among those of its directors who are concerned themselves in such a course, and who feel their responsibility in this respect to society."
Richard Penn Smith responded to a toast with much felicity. He said "he recalled with pleasure his intercourse with Mr. Forrest, for whom he wrote his tragedy entitled Caius Marius, but regretted that even the transcendent talents of his friend could not save his hero from perishing among the ruins of Carthage."
[Pg 336]
Mr. Smith said that "on such an occasion it would be unpardonable to overlook one who stood foremost in the ranks of our dramatic writers,—a gentleman who had distinguished himself by his various talents as an artist and an author, and whose dramatic works would ultimately secure him an enviable fame." He referred to Wm. Dunlap, of New York, and read the following letter:
"New York, December 11th, 1837.
"Gentlemen,—I received, on the evening of the 9th instant, your polite letter, doing me the honor of requesting my presence at a public dinner to be given to Edwin Forrest on the 15th instant. Nothing but the progress of winter, which I see around me, and feel within, could prevent my testifying in person how highly I appreciate the invitation of the committee and the gentleman to whom the public mark of esteem is to be given. Permit me to offer a toast:
"The American Actor, who, both in public and private life, upholds the honor of his country,—Edwin Forrest.
"William Dunlap."
"Mr. President," said Mr. Smith, "I will offer you a toast, which I have no doubt will be cordially responded to,—
"William Dunlap—The Nestor of the American Drama. May he live to see the edifice173 become what his foundation promised!"
The President called upon Mr. Charles Ingersoll, chairman of the Committee of Invitation, for a sentiment, to which Mr. Ingersoll responded:
"Mr. Chairman,—I have been desired by the committee to propose the health of a gentleman who is among us,—a friend of our immediate guest,—who has left his business in a sister city to comply with their invitation to give us his presence to-day,—a gentleman well known in the department of letters, as our guest upon your right is in that of the drama, as peculiarly and characteristically American. We are met to congratulate upon his successes a man radically174 American. The occasion is, therefore, appropriate to the cultivation175 of nationality,—a virtue164 which, though it is said to have grown into a weed in our political and individual relations, we have never been accused of fostering overmuch in literature and the arts; and he who cultivates it
[Pg 337]
there deserves our signal approbation. Short of that illiberality176 which impedes177 the march of improvement, let us cherish a partiality, an honest, homely178 prejudice, for what is our own. To know ourselves is not the whole circle of wisdom; we must love ourselves too. Who sees an American audience crowd to an American play and turn from Shakspeare to call for Metamora and the Gladiator, and does not acknowledge in this fond prejudice the germ of excellence? Patriotism179 itself is a blind preference of our own earth; and shall there be no patriotism in letters? Take from Walter Scott his local prepossessions,—his Scotch180 kings, Scotch hills, Scotchmen, and the round of characters that he carries with him to all times and all places wherever his scene be laid,—deprive him, in a word, of his nationality, and what is he? Cut from his harp181 his own strings182, and where is his music? There is no virtue without excess; such is human imperfection. Give us, then, nationality, which is but a phase of patriotic183 feeling; give us excess of it. Let us love the yet barren hills of our own literature, and we shall learn to make them wave and smile with harvests. Let our authors, like the gentleman we are about to drink to, strike their roots into their native soil and spread themselves to their native sun, and, like him, they will flourish. I propose
"A health and a hearty welcome to Mr. Leggett, whose pen, pointed by a genius that is his own, is directed by a heart that is all his country's."
Mr. Leggett said, that "to be complimented on such an occasion, and by such an assemblage, with a particular notice, was an honor to which he knew not how to reply. The courteous184 hospitality which made him a partaker with them in their festal ovation185 to his distinguished friend was an honor so far beyond his deserts as to call for his warmest acknowledgments. But 'the exchequer186 of the poor,' thanks alone, contained no coin which he dared offer in requital187 of the obligation they had conferred.
"It is often lamented188" (Mr. L. remarked) "that the actor's art, though more impressive in its instant effects than painting or sculpture, stamps no enduring memorial of its excellence, and that its highest achievements soon fade from recollection, or survive only in its vague and traditionary report. This complaint did not seem to him altogether just. We best know how to esti
[Pg 338]
mate causes from the effects they produce. The consequences of actions are their most lasting189 and authentic190 chroniclers. What portrait, or what statue, could have conveyed to us so exalted191 a notion of the loveliness of Helen of Troy as the ten years' war provoked by her fatal charms? What 'storied urn2 or animated192 bust193' could have perpetuated194 the memory of Roscius like the honors bestowed on him by the Roman Senate, the eulogium of Cicero, and the tears—more eloquent than words—shed by that immortal195 orator196 upon his grave?
"When I look around me, and behold this capacious hall thronged197 with men eminent for station, admired for talent, and valued for various private worth, and when I reflect on the object which convenes198 them here, I cannot admit the peculiar perishableness of the actor's fame, I cannot admit that he merely 'struts199 and frets200 his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more.' You have reared a monument to one actor, at least, gentlemen, which will long commemorate201 his greatness, and convey to your children, and your children's children, a lively impression of the genius and virtues which elicited202 so proud and enviable a tribute!"
Mr. Leggett returned his sincere thanks for the honor of inscribing203 his name on so enduring a record, and said he was proud to have it associated with the proceedings204 of that day.
In conclusion, he asked the company to fill their glasses to the following sentiment:
"Philadelphia—The Rome of the new world in this, that she has given a second Roscius to mankind, while another of her sons bids fair to win for her Athenian distinction by rivalling the fame of Æschylus."
Passing over the other speeches as of little interest now, it may be well to state that among the letters of excuse read was one from Washington Irving, regretting that it was not in his "power to join in this well-merited tribute to theatrical205 genius and private worth;" one from William Cullen Bryant, saying that it would give him "the greatest pleasure to unite in any testimony206 to the professional merit and personal worth of Mr. Forrest;" one from John P. Kennedy, who "would rejoice in such an opportunity to acknowledge his share of the indebtedness which the country at large owes to a gentleman whose fame in his profession has become common property;" and one from the celebrated
[Pg 339]
player W. E. Burton, enclosing this happy toast: "The Stage of Life,—although cast into inferior parts at the commencement, industry and perseverance may eventually place us in the principal characters. May we be found perfect at the conclusion of the play!"
Songs and music were interspersed207 among the addresses, the famous vocalist Henry Russell singing several of his most exquisite208 ballads209 with unrivalled effect; and the occasion, altogether, was one of unclouded enjoyment in the passage and of lasting satisfaction in the retrospect210.
Forrest now purchased a house in New York, and established his home there. He took a pew in the church of the Rev6. Orville Dewey, the brilliant Unitarian divine, on whose pulpit ministrations he was for a series of years a regular attendant whenever he was in the city. The attraction of this extremely original and eloquent preacher had drawn together the most intellectual and cultivated congregation in New York; and his influence, silently and in many an unrecognized channel, has been diffusing211 itself ever since. The bold, rational, poetic212, yet profoundly tender and devout style of thought and speech which characterized the sermons of Dewey had a great charm for Forrest, and they were never forgotten by him. He always believed in a God whose will is revealed in the laws of the material universe, and in the rightful order of human life, and he bowed in reverence213 at the thought of this mysterious Being, though often perplexed214 with doubts as to particular doctrines215, and always a sworn enemy to religious dogmatism.
The next event which interrupted the regular movement of his professional and private life was the delivery of the oration216 at the celebration, in the city of New York, of the sixty-second anniversary of the Declaration of the Independence of the United States. The celebration was held under the auspices217 of the Democratic party. Party feeling was intense at the time, and to be the orator of the day on the Fourth of July, in the chief metropolis218 of the land, was an honor greatly coveted219. The choice of Forrest showed the estimation in which he was held, while, on the other hand, his personal celebrity and magnetism220 lent unusual interest to the occasion. The popular desire to hear him had been fed and fanned to the highest pitch by the opposing newspaper com
[Pg 340]
ments, called out by the singular incident of a political party selecting a tragedian as their orator. The services were held in the old Broadway Tabernacle. Five thousand tickets of admission had been given out, but the multitude rushed resistlessly in, regardless of tickets, till the enormous building was stuffed to suffocation221. The oration, in its sentiments, its style, its delivery, was extraordinarily222 successful. It was hailed with the most extravagant223 admiration224 and praise. In thought and feeling it was really creditable to its author, but its fervid225 rhetorical sentences and popular temper were so exactly suited to the tastes of those who heard it, that their estimate of its literary rank and philosophic226 value was stimulated227 to a level that must seem amusing to any sober judge of such things. The author's own opinion of it was modest enough, as appeared in the apologetic preface he prefixed to it when published. Yet it expressed his honest convictions and those of his auditors228 with so much picturesque229 vigor50, and those convictions were so generous and so genuinely American, that the popularity of the oration was no matter of wonder. It was printed in full in numerous journals, and many thousands of copies in pamphlet form were distributed. Two or three extracts from it are appended, to serve as specimens230 of its quality and indications of the mind and heart of the author.
"Fellow-Citizens,—We are met this day to celebrate the most august event which ever constituted an epoch231 in the political annals of mankind. The ordinary occasions of public festivals and rejoicings lie at an infinite depth below that which convenes us here. We meet not in honor of a victory achieved on the crimson232 field of war; not to triumph in the acquisitions of rapine; nor to commemorate the accomplishment233 of a vain revolution which but substituted one dynasty of tyrants234 for another. No glittering display of military pomp and pride, no empty pageant of regal grandeur235, allures236 us hither. We come not to daze237 our eyes with the lustre of a diadem238, placed, with all its attributes of tremendous power, on the head of a being as weak, as blind, as mortal as ourselves. We come not to celebrate the birthday of a despot, but the birthday of a nation; not to bow down in senseless homage before a throne founded on the prostrate239 rights of man, but to stand erect240 in the conscious dignity of equal freedom and join our voices in the loud acclaim241 now swelling242 from
[Pg 341]
the grateful hearts of fifteen millions of men in acknowledgment of the glorious charter of liberty our fathers this day proclaimed to the world.
"How simple, how sublime, is the occasion of our meeting! This vast assemblage is drawn together to solemnize the anniversary of an event which appeals not to their senses nor to their passions, but to their reason; to triumph at a victory, not of might, but of right; to rejoice in the establishment, not of physical dominion243, but of an abstract proposition. We are met to celebrate the declaration of that inestimable principle which asserts the political equality of mankind. We are met in honor of the promulgation244 of that charter by which we are recognized as joint245 sovereigns of an empire of freemen; holding our sovereignty by a right indeed divine,—the immutable246, eternal, irresistible right of self-evident truth. We are met, fellow-citizens, to commemorate the laying of the corner-stone of democratic liberty.
"Threescore years and two have now elapsed since our fathers ventured on the grand experiment of freedom. The nations of the earth heard with wonder the startling principle they asserted, and watched the progress of their enterprise with doubt and apprehension247. The heart of the political philanthropist throbbed248 with anxiety for the result; the down-trodden victims of oppression scarce dared to lift their eyes in hope of a successful termination, while they knew that failure would more strongly rivet249 their chains; and the despots of the Old World, from their 'bad eminences,' gloomily looked on, aghast with rage and terror, and felt that a blow had been struck which loosened the foundation of their thrones.
"The event illustrates250 what ample cause there was for the prophetic tremors251 which thrilled to the soul of arbitrary power. Time has stamped the attestation252 of its signet on the success of the experiment, and the fabric253 then erected254 now stands on the strong basis of established truth, the mark and model of the world. The vicissitudes255 of threescore years, while they have shaken to the centre the artificial foundations of other governments, have but demonstrated the solidity of the simple and natural structure of democratic freedom. The lapse101 of time, while it dims the light of false systems, has continually aug
[Pg 342]
mented the brightness of that which glows with the inherent and eternal lustre of reason and justice. New stars, from year to year, emerging with perfect radiance in the western horizon, have increased the benignant splendor256 of that constellation257 which now shines the political guiding light of the world.
"How grand in their simplicity258 are the elementary propositions on which our edifice of freedom is erected! A few brief, self-evident axioms furnish the enduring basis of political institutions which harmoniously259 accomplish all the legitimate260 purposes of government to fifteen millions of people. The natural equality of man; the right of a majority to govern; their duty so to govern as to preserve inviolate261 the sacred obligations of equal justice, with no end in view but the protection of life, property, and social order, leaving opinion free as the wind which bloweth where it listeth: these are the plain, eternal principles on which our fathers reared that temple of true liberty beneath whose dome4 their children congregate262 this day to pour out their hearts in gratitude for the precious legacy263. Yes! on the everlasting264 rock of truth the shrine265 is founded where we worship freedom; and
'When the sweeping266 storm of time
Has sung its death-dirge o'er the ruined fanes
And broken altars of the mighty fiend
Whose name usurps267 her honors, and the blood,
Through centuries clotted268 there, has floated down
The tainted269 flood of ages,'—
that shrine shall stand, unshaken by the beating surge of change, and only washed to purer whiteness by the deluge270 that overwhelms all other political fabrics271.
"To the genius of Bacon the world is indebted for emancipating272 philosophy from the subtleties273 of the schoolmen, and placing her securely on the firm basis of ascertained274 elementary truth, thence to soar the loftiest flights on the unfailing pinions56 of induction275 and analogy. To the genius of Jefferson—to the comprehensive reach and fervid patriotism of his mind—we owe a more momentous276 obligation. What Bacon did for natural science, Jefferson did for political morals, that important branch of ethics277 which most directly affects the happiness of all mankind. He snatched the art of government from the hands that had enveloped278 it in sophisms and mysteries that it might be made an instrument to
[Pg 343]
oppress the many for the advantage of the few. He stripped it of the jargon279 by which the human mind had been deluded280 into blind veneration281 for kings as the immediate vicegerents of God on earth; and proclaimed in words of eloquent truth, which thrilled conviction to every heart, those eternal self-evident first principles of justice and reason on which alone the fabric of government should be reared. He taught those 'truths of power in words immortal' you have this day heard; words which bear the spirit of great deeds; words which have sounded the death-dirge of tyranny to the remotest corners of the earth; which have roused a sense of right, a hatred282 of oppression, an intense yearning283 for democratic liberty, in myriads284 of myriads of human hearts; and which, reverberating285 through time like thunder through the sky, will,
'in the distance far away,
Wake the slumbering286 ages.'
"To Jefferson belongs exclusively and forever the high renown of having framed the glorious charter of American liberty. This was the grandest experiment ever undertaken in the history of man. But they that entered upon it were not afraid of new experiments, if founded on the immutable principles of right and approved by the sober convictions of reason. There were not wanting then, indeed, as there are not wanting now, pale counsellors to fear, who would have withheld287 them from the course they were pursuing, because it tended in a direction hitherto untrod. But they were not to be deterred288 by the shadowy doubts and timid suggestions of craven spirits, content to be lashed289 forever round the same circle of miserable290 expedients291, perpetually trying anew the exploded shifts which had always proved lamentably292 inadequate293 before. To such men the very name of experiment is a sound of horror. It is a spell which conjures294 up gorgons, hydras, and chimeras295 dire64. They seem not to know that all that is valuable in life—that the acquisitions of learning, the discoveries of science, and the refinements296 of art—are the result of experiment. It was experiment that bestowed on Cadmus those keys of knowledge with which we unlock the treasure-houses of immortal mind. It was experiment that taught Bacon the futility297 of the Grecian philosophy, and led him to that heaven-scaling method of investigation298 and analysis on which science
[Pg 344]
has safely climbed to the proud eminence where now she sits, dispensing299 her blessings300 on mankind. It was experiment that lifted Newton above the clouds and darkness of this visible diurnal301 sphere, enabling him to explore the sublime mechanism302 of the stars and weigh the planets in their eternal rounds. It was experiment that nerved the hand of Franklin to snatch the thunder from the armory303 of heaven. It was experiment that gave this hemisphere to the world. It was experiment that gave this continent to freedom.
点击收听单词发音
1 jack | |
n.插座,千斤顶,男人;v.抬起,提醒,扛举;n.(Jake)杰克 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 urn | |
n.(有座脚的)瓮;坟墓;骨灰瓮 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 laurels | |
n.桂冠,荣誉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 dome | |
n.圆屋顶,拱顶 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 lustre | |
n.光亮,光泽;荣誉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 rev | |
v.发动机旋转,加快速度 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 overflowing | |
n. 溢出物,溢流 adj. 充沛的,充满的 动词overflow的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 unprecedented | |
adj.无前例的,新奇的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 alloy | |
n.合金,(金属的)成色 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 copious | |
adj.丰富的,大量的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 acrimonious | |
adj.严厉的,辛辣的,刻毒的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 envious | |
adj.嫉妒的,羡慕的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 malignant | |
adj.恶性的,致命的;恶意的,恶毒的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 assailing | |
v.攻击( assail的现在分词 );困扰;质问;毅然应对 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 displeased | |
a.不快的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 peculiarities | |
n. 特质, 特性, 怪癖, 古怪 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 specimen | |
n.样本,标本 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 dilatory | |
adj.迟缓的,不慌不忙的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 conjectured | |
推测,猜测,猜想( conjecture的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 censured | |
v.指责,非难,谴责( censure的过去式 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 motive | |
n.动机,目的;adv.发动的,运动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 foist | |
vt.把…强塞给,骗卖给 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 discomfiture | |
n.崩溃;大败;挫败;困惑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 insolent | |
adj.傲慢的,无理的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 patrician | |
adj.贵族的,显贵的;n.贵族;有教养的人;罗马帝国的地方官 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 democrat | |
n.民主主义者,民主人士;民主党党员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 animating | |
v.使有生气( animate的现在分词 );驱动;使栩栩如生地动作;赋予…以生命 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 patriots | |
爱国者,爱国主义者( patriot的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 destined | |
adj.命中注定的;(for)以…为目的地的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 solicited | |
v.恳求( solicit的过去式和过去分词 );(指娼妇)拉客;索求;征求 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 ardor | |
n.热情,狂热 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 mighty | |
adj.强有力的;巨大的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 insignificance | |
n.不重要;无价值;无意义 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 antagonist | |
n.敌人,对抗者,对手 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 devout | |
adj.虔诚的,虔敬的,衷心的 (n.devoutness) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 sojourn | |
v./n.旅居,寄居;逗留 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 enjoined | |
v.命令( enjoin的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 distinguished | |
adj.卓越的,杰出的,著名的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 sumptuous | |
adj.豪华的,奢侈的,华丽的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 celebrity | |
n.名人,名流;著名,名声,名望 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 immediate | |
adj.立即的;直接的,最接近的;紧靠的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 ornamented | |
adj.花式字体的v.装饰,点缀,美化( ornament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 recipient | |
a.接受的,感受性强的 n.接受者,感受者,容器 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 zeal | |
n.热心,热情,热忱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 bestowed | |
赠给,授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 faculties | |
n.能力( faculty的名词复数 );全体教职员;技巧;院 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 homage | |
n.尊敬,敬意,崇敬 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 vigor | |
n.活力,精力,元气 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 sincerity | |
n.真诚,诚意;真实 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 esteem | |
n.尊敬,尊重;vt.尊重,敬重;把…看作 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 pointed | |
adj.尖的,直截了当的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 demonstration | |
n.表明,示范,论证,示威 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 intercourse | |
n.性交;交流,交往,交际 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 pinions | |
v.抓住[捆住](双臂)( pinion的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 judgment | |
n.审判;判断力,识别力,看法,意见 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 devoted | |
adj.忠诚的,忠实的,热心的,献身于...的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 uncommon | |
adj.罕见的,非凡的,不平常的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 aptitudes | |
(学习方面的)才能,资质,天资( aptitude的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 derived | |
vi.起源;由来;衍生;导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 );(从…中)得到获得;源于;(从…中)提取 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 esteemed | |
adj.受人尊敬的v.尊敬( esteem的过去式和过去分词 );敬重;认为;以为 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 adorned | |
[计]被修饰的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 dire | |
adj.可怕的,悲惨的,阴惨的,极端的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 generosity | |
n.大度,慷慨,慷慨的行为 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 exertion | |
n.尽力,努力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 disarmed | |
v.裁军( disarm的过去式和过去分词 );使息怒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 joyous | |
adj.充满快乐的;令人高兴的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 vapid | |
adj.无味的;无生气的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 terseness | |
简洁,精练 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 utterance | |
n.用言语表达,话语,言语 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 pageant | |
n.壮观的游行;露天历史剧 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 mimic | |
v.模仿,戏弄;n.模仿他人言行的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 throng | |
n.人群,群众;v.拥挤,群集 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 denizens | |
n.居民,住户( denizen的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 convened | |
召开( convene的过去式 ); 召集; (为正式会议而)聚集; 集合 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 costly | |
adj.昂贵的,价值高的,豪华的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 munificent | |
adj.慷慨的,大方的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 bosom | |
n.胸,胸部;胸怀;内心;adj.亲密的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 throbs | |
体内的跳动( throb的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 agitation | |
n.搅动;搅拌;鼓动,煽动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 tumult | |
n.喧哗;激动,混乱;吵闹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 beget | |
v.引起;产生 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 bounteous | |
adj.丰富的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 candid | |
adj.公正的,正直的;坦率的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 soothing | |
adj.慰藉的;使人宽心的;镇静的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 approbation | |
n.称赞;认可 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 anticipation | |
n.预期,预料,期望 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 lavish | |
adj.无节制的;浪费的;vt.慷慨地给予,挥霍 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 benevolent | |
adj.仁慈的,乐善好施的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 juvenile | |
n.青少年,少年读物;adj.青少年的,幼稚的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 onward | |
adj.向前的,前进的;adv.向前,前进,在先 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 glides | |
n.滑行( glide的名词复数 );滑音;音渡;过渡音v.滑动( glide的第三人称单数 );掠过;(鸟或飞机 ) 滑翔 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 interval | |
n.间隔,间距;幕间休息,中场休息 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 allude | |
v.提及,暗指 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 behold | |
v.看,注视,看到 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 delirium | |
n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99 inhaling | |
v.吸入( inhale的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100 oxide | |
n.氧化物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101 lapse | |
n.过失,流逝,失效,抛弃信仰,间隔;vi.堕落,停止,失效,流逝;vt.使失效 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102 throngs | |
n.人群( throng的名词复数 )v.成群,挤满( throng的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
103 intoxicating | |
a. 醉人的,使人兴奋的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
104 ecstasy | |
n.狂喜,心醉神怡,入迷 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
105 tragic | |
adj.悲剧的,悲剧性的,悲惨的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106 harry | |
vt.掠夺,蹂躏,使苦恼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107 draught | |
n.拉,牵引,拖;一网(饮,吸,阵);顿服药量,通风;v.起草,设计 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
108 irresistible | |
adj.非常诱人的,无法拒绝的,无法抗拒的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109 abashed | |
adj.窘迫的,尴尬的v.使羞愧,使局促,使窘迫( abash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110 kindly | |
adj.和蔼的,温和的,爽快的;adv.温和地,亲切地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
111 dormant | |
adj.暂停活动的;休眠的;潜伏的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
112 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
113 magistrate | |
n.地方行政官,地方法官,治安官 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
114 attained | |
(通常经过努力)实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 ); 达到; 获得; 达到(某年龄、水平、状况) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
115 eminence | |
n.卓越,显赫;高地,高处;名家 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
116 foretell | |
v.预言,预告,预示 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
117 augury | |
n.预言,征兆,占卦 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
118 immature | |
adj.未成熟的,发育未全的,未充分发展的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
119 nurtured | |
养育( nurture的过去式和过去分词 ); 培育; 滋长; 助长 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
120 labored | |
adj.吃力的,谨慎的v.努力争取(for)( labor的过去式和过去分词 );苦干;详细分析;(指引擎)缓慢而困难地运转 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
121 allusion | |
n.暗示,间接提示 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
122 hearty | |
adj.热情友好的;衷心的;尽情的,纵情的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
123 vehement | |
adj.感情强烈的;热烈的;(人)有强烈感情的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
124 eloquent | |
adj.雄辩的,口才流利的;明白显示出的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
125 eloquence | |
n.雄辩;口才,修辞 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
126 atone | |
v.赎罪,补偿 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
127 prattle | |
n.闲谈;v.(小孩般)天真无邪地说话;发出连续而无意义的声音 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
128 renown | |
n.声誉,名望 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
129 adverse | |
adj.不利的;有害的;敌对的,不友好的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
130 acquitted | |
宣判…无罪( acquit的过去式和过去分词 ); 使(自己)作出某种表现 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
131 eminent | |
adj.显赫的,杰出的,有名的,优良的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
132 brilliance | |
n.光辉,辉煌,壮丽,(卓越的)才华,才智 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
133 manly | |
adj.有男子气概的;adv.男子般地,果断地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
134 muses | |
v.沉思,冥想( muse的第三人称单数 );沉思自语说(某事) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
135 fervor | |
n.热诚;热心;炽热 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
136 delicacy | |
n.精致,细微,微妙,精良;美味,佳肴 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
137 extenuation | |
n.减轻罪孽的借口;酌情减轻;细 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
138 gratitude | |
adj.感激,感谢 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
139 tranquil | |
adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
140 kindles | |
(使某物)燃烧,着火( kindle的第三人称单数 ); 激起(感情等); 发亮,放光 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
141 alluded | |
提及,暗指( allude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
142 humble | |
adj.谦卑的,恭顺的;地位低下的;v.降低,贬低 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
143 ascetic | |
adj.禁欲的;严肃的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
144 recur | |
vi.复发,重现,再发生 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
145 enjoyment | |
n.乐趣;享有;享用 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
146 subdued | |
adj. 屈服的,柔和的,减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
147 grotesque | |
adj.怪诞的,丑陋的;n.怪诞的图案,怪人(物) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
148 potent | |
adj.强有力的,有权势的;有效力的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
149 oracles | |
神示所( oracle的名词复数 ); 神谕; 圣贤; 哲人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
150 acting | |
n.演戏,行为,假装;adj.代理的,临时的,演出用的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
151 sublime | |
adj.崇高的,伟大的;极度的,不顾后果的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
152 refinement | |
n.文雅;高尚;精美;精制;精炼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
153 appreciation | |
n.评价;欣赏;感谢;领会,理解;价格上涨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
154 graphically | |
adv.通过图表;生动地,轮廓分明地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
155 prophesied | |
v.预告,预言( prophesy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
156 begotten | |
v.为…之生父( beget的过去分词 );产生,引起 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
157 prosecute | |
vt.告发;进行;vi.告发,起诉,作检察官 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
158 ascended | |
v.上升,攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
159 ascend | |
vi.渐渐上升,升高;vt.攀登,登上 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
160 ascent | |
n.(声望或地位)提高;上升,升高;登高 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
161 toil | |
vi.辛劳工作,艰难地行动;n.苦工,难事 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
162 delightful | |
adj.令人高兴的,使人快乐的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
163 fully | |
adv.完全地,全部地,彻底地;充分地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
164 virtue | |
n.德行,美德;贞操;优点;功效,效力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
165 virtues | |
美德( virtue的名词复数 ); 德行; 优点; 长处 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
166 excellence | |
n.优秀,杰出,(pl.)优点,美德 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
167 citizenship | |
n.市民权,公民权,国民的义务(身份) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
168 celebrated | |
adj.有名的,声誉卓著的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
169 hospitable | |
adj.好客的;宽容的;有利的,适宜的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
170 meekly | |
adv.温顺地,逆来顺受地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
171 ascending | |
adj.上升的,向上的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
172 perseverance | |
n.坚持不懈,不屈不挠 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
173 edifice | |
n.宏伟的建筑物(如宫殿,教室) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
174 radically | |
ad.根本地,本质地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
175 cultivation | |
n.耕作,培养,栽培(法),养成 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
176 illiberality | |
n.吝啬,小气 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
177 impedes | |
阻碍,妨碍,阻止( impede的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
178 homely | |
adj.家常的,简朴的;不漂亮的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
179 patriotism | |
n.爱国精神,爱国心,爱国主义 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
180 scotch | |
n.伤口,刻痕;苏格兰威士忌酒;v.粉碎,消灭,阻止;adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
181 harp | |
n.竖琴;天琴座 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
182 strings | |
n.弦 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
183 patriotic | |
adj.爱国的,有爱国心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
184 courteous | |
adj.彬彬有礼的,客气的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
185 ovation | |
n.欢呼,热烈欢迎,热烈鼓掌 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
186 exchequer | |
n.财政部;国库 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
187 requital | |
n.酬劳;报复 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
188 lamented | |
adj.被哀悼的,令人遗憾的v.(为…)哀悼,痛哭,悲伤( lament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
189 lasting | |
adj.永久的,永恒的;vbl.持续,维持 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
190 authentic | |
a.真的,真正的;可靠的,可信的,有根据的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
191 exalted | |
adj.(地位等)高的,崇高的;尊贵的,高尚的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
192 animated | |
adj.生气勃勃的,活跃的,愉快的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
193 bust | |
vt.打破;vi.爆裂;n.半身像;胸部 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
194 perpetuated | |
vt.使永存(perpetuate的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
195 immortal | |
adj.不朽的;永生的,不死的;神的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
196 orator | |
n.演说者,演讲者,雄辩家 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
197 thronged | |
v.成群,挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
198 convenes | |
召开( convene的第三人称单数 ); 召集; (为正式会议而)聚集; 集合 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
199 struts | |
(框架的)支杆( strut的名词复数 ); 支柱; 趾高气扬的步态; (尤指跳舞或表演时)卖弄 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
200 frets | |
基质间片; 品丝(吉他等指板上定音的)( fret的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
201 commemorate | |
vt.纪念,庆祝 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
202 elicited | |
引出,探出( elicit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
203 inscribing | |
v.写,刻( inscribe的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
204 proceedings | |
n.进程,过程,议程;诉讼(程序);公报 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
205 theatrical | |
adj.剧场的,演戏的;做戏似的,做作的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
206 testimony | |
n.证词;见证,证明 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
207 interspersed | |
adj.[医]散开的;点缀的v.intersperse的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
208 exquisite | |
adj.精美的;敏锐的;剧烈的,感觉强烈的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
209 ballads | |
民歌,民谣,特别指叙述故事的歌( ballad的名词复数 ); 讴 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
210 retrospect | |
n.回顾,追溯;v.回顾,回想,追溯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
211 diffusing | |
(使光)模糊,漫射,漫散( diffuse的现在分词 ); (使)扩散; (使)弥漫; (使)传播 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
212 poetic | |
adj.富有诗意的,有诗人气质的,善于抒情的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
213 reverence | |
n.敬畏,尊敬,尊严;Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称;v.尊敬,敬畏,崇敬 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
214 perplexed | |
adj.不知所措的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
215 doctrines | |
n.教条( doctrine的名词复数 );教义;学说;(政府政策的)正式声明 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
216 oration | |
n.演说,致辞,叙述法 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
217 auspices | |
n.资助,赞助 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
218 metropolis | |
n.首府;大城市 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
219 coveted | |
adj.令人垂涎的;垂涎的,梦寐以求的v.贪求,觊觎(covet的过去分词);垂涎;贪图 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
220 magnetism | |
n.磁性,吸引力,磁学 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
221 suffocation | |
n.窒息 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
222 extraordinarily | |
adv.格外地;极端地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
223 extravagant | |
adj.奢侈的;过分的;(言行等)放肆的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
224 admiration | |
n.钦佩,赞美,羡慕 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
225 fervid | |
adj.热情的;炽热的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
226 philosophic | |
adj.哲学的,贤明的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
227 stimulated | |
a.刺激的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
228 auditors | |
n.审计员,稽核员( auditor的名词复数 );(大学课程的)旁听生 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
229 picturesque | |
adj.美丽如画的,(语言)生动的,绘声绘色的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
230 specimens | |
n.样品( specimen的名词复数 );范例;(化验的)抽样;某种类型的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
231 epoch | |
n.(新)时代;历元 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
232 crimson | |
n./adj.深(绯)红色(的);vi.脸变绯红色 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
233 accomplishment | |
n.完成,成就,(pl.)造诣,技能 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
234 tyrants | |
专制统治者( tyrant的名词复数 ); 暴君似的人; (古希腊的)僭主; 严酷的事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
235 grandeur | |
n.伟大,崇高,宏伟,庄严,豪华 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
236 allures | |
诱引,吸引( allure的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
237 daze | |
v.(使)茫然,(使)发昏 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
238 diadem | |
n.王冠,冕 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
239 prostrate | |
v.拜倒,平卧,衰竭;adj.拜倒的,平卧的,衰竭的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
240 erect | |
n./v.树立,建立,使竖立;adj.直立的,垂直的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
241 acclaim | |
v.向…欢呼,公认;n.欢呼,喝彩,称赞 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
242 swelling | |
n.肿胀 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
243 dominion | |
n.统治,管辖,支配权;领土,版图 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
244 promulgation | |
n.颁布 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
245 joint | |
adj.联合的,共同的;n.关节,接合处;v.连接,贴合 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
246 immutable | |
adj.不可改变的,永恒的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
247 apprehension | |
n.理解,领悟;逮捕,拘捕;忧虑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
248 throbbed | |
抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 ); (心脏、脉搏等)跳动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
249 rivet | |
n.铆钉;vt.铆接,铆牢;集中(目光或注意力) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
250 illustrates | |
给…加插图( illustrate的第三人称单数 ); 说明; 表明; (用示例、图画等)说明 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
251 tremors | |
震颤( tremor的名词复数 ); 战栗; 震颤声; 大地的轻微震动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
252 attestation | |
n.证词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
253 fabric | |
n.织物,织品,布;构造,结构,组织 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
254 ERECTED | |
adj. 直立的,竖立的,笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立,建立 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
255 vicissitudes | |
n.变迁,世事变化;变迁兴衰( vicissitude的名词复数 );盛衰兴废 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
256 splendor | |
n.光彩;壮丽,华丽;显赫,辉煌 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
257 constellation | |
n.星座n.灿烂的一群 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
258 simplicity | |
n.简单,简易;朴素;直率,单纯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
259 harmoniously | |
和谐地,调和地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
260 legitimate | |
adj.合法的,合理的,合乎逻辑的;v.使合法 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
261 inviolate | |
adj.未亵渎的,未受侵犯的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
262 congregate | |
v.(使)集合,聚集 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
263 legacy | |
n.遗产,遗赠;先人(或过去)留下的东西 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
264 everlasting | |
adj.永恒的,持久的,无止境的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
265 shrine | |
n.圣地,神龛,庙;v.将...置于神龛内,把...奉为神圣 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
266 sweeping | |
adj.范围广大的,一扫无遗的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
267 usurps | |
篡夺,霸占( usurp的第三人称单数 ); 盗用; 篡夺,篡权 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
268 clotted | |
adj.凝结的v.凝固( clot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
269 tainted | |
adj.腐坏的;污染的;沾污的;感染的v.使变质( taint的过去式和过去分词 );使污染;败坏;被污染,腐坏,败坏 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
270 deluge | |
n./vt.洪水,暴雨,使泛滥 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
271 fabrics | |
织物( fabric的名词复数 ); 布; 构造; (建筑物的)结构(如墙、地面、屋顶):质地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
272 emancipating | |
v.解放某人(尤指摆脱政治、法律或社会的束缚)( emancipate的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
273 subtleties | |
细微( subtlety的名词复数 ); 精细; 巧妙; 细微的差别等 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
274 ascertained | |
v.弄清,确定,查明( ascertain的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
275 induction | |
n.感应,感应现象 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
276 momentous | |
adj.重要的,重大的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
277 ethics | |
n.伦理学;伦理观,道德标准 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
278 enveloped | |
v.包围,笼罩,包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
279 jargon | |
n.术语,行话 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
280 deluded | |
v.欺骗,哄骗( delude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
281 veneration | |
n.尊敬,崇拜 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
282 hatred | |
n.憎恶,憎恨,仇恨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
283 yearning | |
a.渴望的;向往的;怀念的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
284 myriads | |
n.无数,极大数量( myriad的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
285 reverberating | |
回响,回荡( reverberate的现在分词 ); 使反响,使回荡,使反射 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
286 slumbering | |
微睡,睡眠(slumber的现在分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
287 withheld | |
withhold过去式及过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
288 deterred | |
v.阻止,制止( deter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
289 lashed | |
adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 );煽动;紧系;怒斥 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
290 miserable | |
adj.悲惨的,痛苦的;可怜的,糟糕的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
291 expedients | |
n.应急有效的,权宜之计的( expedient的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
292 lamentably | |
adv.哀伤地,拙劣地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
293 inadequate | |
adj.(for,to)不充足的,不适当的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
294 conjures | |
用魔术变出( conjure的第三人称单数 ); 祈求,恳求; 变戏法; (变魔术般地) 使…出现 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
295 chimeras | |
n.(由几种动物的各部分构成的)假想的怪兽( chimera的名词复数 );不可能实现的想法;幻想;妄想 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
296 refinements | |
n.(生活)风雅;精炼( refinement的名词复数 );改良品;细微的改良;优雅或高贵的动作 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
297 futility | |
n.无用 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
298 investigation | |
n.调查,调查研究 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
299 dispensing | |
v.分配( dispense的现在分词 );施与;配(药) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
300 blessings | |
n.(上帝的)祝福( blessing的名词复数 );好事;福分;因祸得福 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
301 diurnal | |
adj.白天的,每日的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
302 mechanism | |
n.机械装置;机构,结构 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
303 armory | |
n.纹章,兵工厂,军械库 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |