Part 2

to watch the billows which she spurns from her prow, chafed into foam as if enraged at the impotency of their attempts to resist the superiority which the genius of man asserts over their mighty waters. It is beautiful at night to see these billows rolled from the prow in sheets of flame, whilst all around, where the waters are agitated, their surface appears studded with stars, which shine as if to rival those which sparkle on high:--or when the moon arises, to behold the flood of mild radiance which she casts along the deep, which

"Sleeps in the night-beam beauteously."

Should a sail perchance cross this path of light, it seems a fairy visitant of this earth, and just about to take its departure from it for the bright world beneath which it seems suspended.

All this is scenery which can in no other situation be enjoyed, yet which like every thing else, soon palls upon the taste, as I can bear testimony both on my own behalf and on that of

"My comates and brothers in exile."

We soon became accustomed to "the wonders of the deep" and far from responding to the sentiment of Long Tom in "the Pilot," who declared that "the sight of land always made him feel uncomfortable;" rather agreed with Gonzalo in the Tempest, when he asseverated that he would "give a thousand furlongs of sea, for an acre of barren ground." Our taste became so perverted, that we heeded not the grandeur of the ocean or the beauties of the heavens, and sighed that we had

"No delight to pass away the time, Unless to spy our shadows in the sun,"

or engage in the most sage pastime of building castles in the clouds where,

"Sometime we'd see a cloud look dragonish; A vapour sometime like a bear or lion, A tower'd citadel, a pendant rock, A forked mountain, or blue promontory With trees upon 't." ---- ----

In short, every thing which could divert for a while, was eagerly caught at, as a child pursues a butterfly. "A sail in sight," served as the event of a day; a porpoise or flying fish excited as much interest, as would on land be produced by the apparition of a gryphon, a winged dragon, or any other fabulous monster of romance; whilst the huge leviathan, heaving his vast bulk into view and spouting rivers to the skies, created as much sensation, as an earthquake or a revolution.

The graceful little nautilus too, spreading its transparent sail, and pursuing its dancing career over the waves, was ever hailed with acclamation; though as a faithful journalist, who would wish even in the slightest affairs to be considered "an honest chronicler," I am compelled to denounce them as unprofitable sailors, as they ever steer full in the "wind's eye."

A most remarkable event in our voyage was the celebration of the anniversary of our independence; which, happening about the middle of our course, was mirthfully kept by the Americans on board, aided by the representatives of the different nations there assembled. The celebration commenced with a prayer from the Rev. Mr. ---- of ----; and I wish I could say that it ended as appropriately; for soon after dinner it became quite apparent, that a certain young gentleman, and old doctor, of whom I have before spoken, however well fortified against mustard and cayenne, were not proof against champagne--so----they were put to bed.

On the evening of the 16th of July, we were first greeted by that sound of all others, the most grateful to the ears of those who have been for twenty tedious days, upon the unstable element. The deck was soon deserted by the younger portion of the passengers, who climbed to various heights, according to their proficiency, to behold the welcome prospect. The shore of "merry England" could then be seen; presenting to the eye however, nothing save a line faintly sketched, undulating a little above the horizon, so that many still remained in doubt

"---- 'till the light-house far blazed, Like a star in the midst of the ocean."

Thus did we enter the English channel (almost the end of our voyage,) without having encountered any of those "dangers of the seas" of which we hear and read such appalling descriptions. I really felt almost mortified that I should have crossed the great Atlantic, without having beheld the waves running "mountain high," with bottomless abysses between; without having seen,

"---- the strained mast quiver as a reed, And the rent canvass, fluttering strew the gale."

I cannot pretend to say however that this would at all have improved my idea of a sea voyage; towards which I cannot say that my experiment has impressed me very favorably. Indeed I cannot but wonder at the magnificent descriptions sometimes given, of an "excursion over the waters"--gentle Zephyrs swelling the sails--Tritons and Nereids sporting around, melodious with Conchs--Old Neptune calming the waves--and the gallant vessel gaily bounding

"O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea,"

as if the whole were a fairy pageant. I can only give it as my opinion, that most of those who give such glowing representations of a sea voyage, have either, never tried one; or are guilty of the common littleness of imitation--imitation of the noble bard who "laid his hand on ocean's mane," and who exclaimed--"I have loved thee ocean!" because in reality he did.

For my own part, I can give no better idea of my opinion of a ship, than by quoting a definition of one, which struck me as peculiarly felicitous--viz. "a dirty prison with a good chance of being drowned."

On the 18th; our eyes when turned towards the east, no longer wandered over a drear expanse of waters, but the coast of "la belle France" offered itself to our view, and as we gradually approached, it assumed the appearance of tremendous cliffs, presenting their awful fronts full to the ocean.

For the Southern Literary Messenger.

THE MOTHER OF WASHINGTON.

Amid the untiring efforts of the present age, to elevate the standard of female education, it is possible that the excellencies of a more ancient system, may be too much disregarded. In our zeal for reformation, we are in danger of discarding, or pronouncing obsolete, some requisitions of salutary tendency. The wider range both of intellect and accomplishment, which is now prescribed, seems to exclude some of those practical and homebred virtues, on which the true influence of woman depends.

There was a fine mixture of energy and dignity, in the character of females, of the higher ranks in our olden time. We of modern days, to whom languor and luxury are dear, allege that it was carried too far. We complain that it involved reserve and sternness. Perhaps, we are not sensible that we verge so palpably to the other extreme, as to retain in our style of manners scarcely the shadow of that power by which folly is checked and frivolity silenced.

The mother of Washington, has been pronounced a model of the true dignity of woman. She seemed to combine the Spartan simplicity and firmness, with the lofty characteristics of a Roman matron. With a heart of deep and purified affections, she blended that majesty which commanded the reverence of all. At the head of a large household, whose charge, by the death of her husband, devolved solely on her, the energy of her tireless superintendence preserved subordination and harmony. The undeviating integrity and unshaken self-command of her illustrious son, were developements of her own elements of character,--fruits from those germs which she planted in the soil of his infancy. To the inquiry, what course had been pursued in the early education of one, whom not only America, but the world, regarded with honor almost divine, she replied,--_"his first lesson was to obey."_ It was her dignity of manner, courteous, yet rejecting all ostentation, and content to array itself in the "plain and becoming garb of the ancient Virginian lady,"--that elicited from those accustomed to the pomp and gorgeous costume of European courts, the high praise, that _"it was no wonder that a country which produced such mothers, could boast such a man as Washington."_

He therefore, who has been likened to Fabius,--to Cincinnatus, and to other heroes of antiquity, only to show how greatly he transcended them by being a christian,--he who has made the hallowed shades of Mount Vernon, as sacred to the patriot, as the shrine at Mecca, to the pilgrim,--shares his glory with her, who wrought among the rudiments of his being, with no careless or uncertain hand. The monument which now designates her last repose,--which her native clime should have hasted to erect,--but which private munificence exulted to rear,--speaks strongly and eloquently to her sex. It bids them impress the character of true greatness upon the next generation. It warns them to prepare by unslumbering effort, for this tremendous responsibility. It reminds them that in their appointed ministration, they stand but "a little lower than the angels." And let her who is disposed to indulge in lassitude, or to trifle away the brief season of her probation,--or to forget that she may stamp an indelible character either for good or evil, on some immortal mind,--go and renounce her errors, and deepen her energies,--and relumine her hopes, at the tomb of the _Mother of Washington_.

L. H. S.

For the Southern Literary Messenger.

SERVILITY.

The most servile are frequently the most arrogant. The possessor of these qualities will display the one or the other according to the condition of the person whom he encounters. For an individual who in the estimation of society holds a rank above him, he will be ready to perform any office, however menial: while to another, whose situation in life is more humble, he will be in the highest degree haughty and assuming. No man of proper feeling can entertain the least respect for such a character. How very different from that of Urbanus. His manner always shows a consideration for those whose station in society may be less desirable than his own. He feels the disposition to oblige, and never fails to indulge it when a proper occasion is presented. Let any individual of correct deportment be in want of aid which Urbanus can give, and no matter how humble his condition, that aid will be extended. Not so, however, when the man who wishes his services assumes a superiority over him. A laudable pride and a proper self-respect will then forbid what otherwise might be done. Urbanus will be courteous and polite to all, but in a state of subjection to none. He will take a pleasure in yielding, of his own free will, to talents, attainments, and high character, their just due. But this must be the result of his own opinion as to what is right, and not the effect of base submission to another's will.

C.

The communication which follows on the subject of that remarkable kind of "extemporaneous speaking" which has been long practised in some parts of Europe, but is entirely unknown in this country,--is entitled to the reader's attention not only on account of the source from which it is derived, but also from its intrinsic merit. An accomplished _improvvisatore_ is certainly an intellectual phenomenon, of the existence of which we should be strongly inclined to doubt--if so many well attested facts did not establish it beyond all controversy. We hope that some one of our readers of taste and erudition will furnish a handsome translation of the Italian poetry which accompanies the article.

For the Southern Literary Messenger.

EXTEMPORANEOUS SPEAKING.

Astonishing as it may appear, there are men who can deliver extemporaneously, not only excellent orations and discourses, but also beautiful poems, tragedies and comedies. Exhibitions of this kind have been so frequent, that no deception can possibly exist. You may even specify the measure in which you desire the poetical production, and the verses, as if inspired, will flow from the lips of the _improvvisatore_, with ease, elegance, and beauty. When I was in Paris, Sgricci extemporized several tragedies in Italian.[1] Eugene Pradel delivered a poem on Columbus, and proposed to extemporize tragedies and operas in French. Manuel could at any time speak appropriately and eloquently without preparation. The number of _improvvisatori_ is very great, and I might enumerate, if necessary, many of these distinguished men. Italy boasts of the names of several ladies who have acquired fame by their poetical extempore compositions, among whom I may mention the Bandettini, the Mazei and the Corilla. This fact being admitted, two questions arise--1st. Is it possible to acquire this wonderful talent? 2nd. What are the means to be employed in order to succeed in speaking extemporaneously?

To the first question, I answer affirmatively.--The talent of speaking extempore is always an acquired one: all good _improvvisatori_ have followed a course of mental exercises. Illustrious men at first uttered a few words with stammering tongues, then spoke hesitatingly--and by proper combinations of their intellectual faculties, became the extraordinary _improvvisatori_, who excite wonder and admiration. Experience shows the truth of this assertion.

The second question is, what are the means to be employed in order to succeed in speaking extempore? They are numerous, and they must be pursued with that enthusiasm and perseverance, without which, a man can never reach the temple of fame: for he who feels the noble ambition of distinguishing himself from the crowd which surrounds him--he who wishes to leave traces of his passage on earth, and to raise a monument which ages shall not destroy--must be moved by an energetic spirit, and have the moral courage to banish mental indolence from his bosom--to shake off that apathy so fatal to intellectual improvement, and to imbibe that love of immortality, which will carry him triumphantly through his career. He will bear in mind meanwhile, that

"Aucun chemin de fleurs ne conduit à la gloire,"

and deeply impressed with this important truth, will display the energy necessary to overcome all difficulties. I will not say that it is easy--that it requires but little labor to become a good extempore speaker. Still less will I advance the false opinion, that some men are naturally so. You will perceive by what follows, that I am far from believing it. What are the preliminary acquirements of a good _improvvisatore_? He must embrace the whole circle of human knowledge. He must know the fundamental principles of nearly all the arts and sciences, (I do not mean by this, that it is necessary he should possess the details connected with them--that is above human strength)--he must be acquainted with all the revolutions in which human genius has been displayed--he must be familiar with all important discoveries, and with the deeds of great men, in all ages and countries. He must be a cosmopolite, that is to say, he must be acquainted with the customs and manners of every nation--and it is necessary he should put aside his prejudices, in order to understand the peculiarities which characterize the members of the great human family. The wonders of nature must be impressed on his mind, and above all, he must have read and meditated upon the works of the classical writers of all nations, and know perfectly the beauties and genius of his own language.

These are the materials of the _improvvisatore_,--but these acquirements, extensive as they are, will not give him the power of extemporizing. How often do we see men endowed with profound wisdom,--vast experience and learning,--unable to express and convey to others the result of their long meditations! The reason of this is obvious. How could the man who devotes the whole of his time to the acquisition of sciences, expect to express himself well, if he neglects to study the only art which can teach him the means of speaking fluently and extempore?

When a man has learned the arts and sciences of which I have spoken--when he has examined the political, religious and philosophical opinions which have governed the world from the remotest ages--he sees that the number of original ideas is not as great as one might suppose--he perceives that all mental faculties are connected--and that there is a chain which unites all thoughts--that they proceed from each other--that an idea must spring from a cause which gives rise to it. Thus he studies the laws of reasoning--thus by practice he learns to fix his attention on his sensations, and sometimes a single sensation, when properly analyzed, presents him the substance of a whole discourse: for a good discourse is nothing more than _a series of judgments_ logically deduced from each other,--_it is a chain of ideas connected by a close analogy_. By training his mind to logical deductions, he acquires by degrees, the facility of combining ideas; and, guided by analogy, he reasons correctly without effort. Reasoning is learned like languages. At first, we hesitate in placing the words of a foreign tongue--we are obliged to recollect the rule which is to guide us in every part of speech; but when thoroughly versed in the genius of the language, we speak it fluently, without thinking about the arrangement of words. So it is with reasoning. A man who is equally versed in several languages, may express his ideas without knowing at the moment, in what idiom he imbodies his thoughts. A man who has trained his mind logically, reasons well, without thinking about the principles which guide him. It is well known that men have many ideas in common, and very often an author becomes popular and illustrious, only because he expresses with great superiority and beauty, that which every body thinks and feels. This is the very foundation of poetry and eloquence. It is this art which is called _nature_, and which gives immortality to literary productions. The work which does not awake our sympathy--which is not in harmony with the feelings of our nature--and which is not expressed in words best suited to its subject, can never acquire fame for its author. Hence the importance of the _improvvisatore's_ studying mankind--hence the necessity of learning to imbody his ideas in appropriate language.--As each _passion_ has its peculiar expression and style, the _improvvisatore_ must engrave on his mind, the _association_ of suitable expressions for every _feeling_; so, that every time he experiences or brings back to his memory a _sensation_, a _passion_, or an _idea_, he may also, simultaneously recall the words best suited to express them. He must acquire the faculty of bringing before his mind, all the scenes of nature--and the passions which spring from the heart of man; and, at the same time, possess language to convey them with eloquence. His imagination must be active, impetuous, or overwhelming, according to the objects which he intends to describe. The mind of the _improvvisatore_ must be exercised to employ every style: the simple--the flowery--the majestic--the pathetic--the sublime--to combine ideas with the rapidity of lightning;--in a word, he must know all the springs of the human heart, in order to move it at his will, as if by enchantment.

Although it may seem paradoxical, it is seldom for want of ideas, that a man fails in being eloquent. Thought is always ready--always instantaneous. Learn to extemporize its expression. Where is the man who surrounded by an indignant people, breaking the chains of despotism, and defending their sacred rights with courage and patriotism--where is the man, I say, who, at the sight of such a spectacle, could remain unmoved? Where is the man who could not be eloquent, were his mind provided with expressions worthy of his thoughts? Where is the man who can be thoughtless at the view of a vessel beaten by the tempestuous billows in the midst of the ocean--when he perceives this frail nautic dwelling at war with infuriated storms--when on a sudden he sees the long agitated ship breaking asunder, and every human being which she contains scattered and struggling against death? In this frightful scene, where darting lightnings are shedding their vacillating light on the ghastly faces of expiring victims, and when the last beam of earthly hope is to be buried with them in the bosom of the deep,--can that spectator be unconcerned? No. His very soul shudders--his limbs are trembling, and his eyes filled with tears. Are not these feelings impressed in the bosom of every human being? If the witness of such a shipwreck could imbody faithfully in language his sensations at the moment he experiences them, could he fail to excite our sympathy? No--no--a man who has ready expressions to convey his thoughts and feelings will always be eloquent. I need not mention Demosthenes and Cicero, Æschines and Hortensius, Isocrates, Lysias, Pericles, and a crowd of sophists who displayed, in former ages, great skill in the art of speaking. Their writings have been the mental food for those who studied antiquity. In modern times, lord Chatham, Fox, Pitt, Burke, Sheridan, Canning, have shone in the British House of Commons, and their fame is familiar to every American scholar. I will only name some of those illustrious men who displayed splendid abilities in the different political assemblies of France. Who has not heard of the astonishing oratorical powers of Mirabeau, Maury, Barnave and Vergniaud the pride of the Gironde? Manuel, Foy, Benjamin Constant, Lamarque, and several others have of late added a new lustre to French eloquence. All these eminent orators were distinguished for their improvisations. My intention now is not to discuss their peculiar merit as men of genius and extempore speakers; I merely quote them as models. I must not omit mentioning three orators now wandering in exile, after having displayed in their native land all the magic of eloquence, in order to restore liberty to their enslaved country. Though the efforts of Galiano, Argüelles and Martinez de la Rosa were not crowned with success, they will ever be the pride of Spain. These gifted patriots, struggling against adversity and preserving their noble independence, deserve the admiration of mankind.[2]

In concluding, I may say that the power of combining just and useful ideas, and expressing them extemporaneously in an appropriate language--the knowledge of man and of every thing which concerns him--a strong and well modulated voice, and dignified gestures, constitute what is called a _good improvvisatore_. Few succeed in all the multifarious qualifications of an extempore speaker--few are led by this unabated enthusiastic spirit resolved to meet and triumph over difficulties. This disposition of mind, however, must exist--for in mental contention as in war,

"A vaincre sans péril on triomphe sans gloire."

And every one that has witnessed the wonders of this art, will grant that if there be a talent by which the powers of man are exhibited in all their sublimity, it is undoubtedly that of the accomplished _improvvisatore_.

J. H.

[Footnote 1: It was in 1825 that Sgricci invited the literati of Paris to meet in a spacious hall, where he was to extemporize a tragedy. Every spectator was allowed to vote for the subject of the play, and the majority decided in favor of _the Death of Charles I_. A few moments afterwards, Sgricci explained the _dramatis personæ_, and began to deliver extempore a tragedy of about _fifteen hundred verses!_ That production was printed, and many passages are full of poetical talent. Francisco Gianni extemporized, during one year, every morning and evening, two pieces of poetry under the title of _Saluto del Matino_, and _Saluto de la Sera_. In order that the lovers of Italian poetry may judge Gianni's skill in extemporising, I will quote as a specimen, one of his productions.

SALUTO DE LA SERA.

Poca favilla gran fiamma seconda. _Dant. Parad._ cant. 1.