sessed by the orang-outang and our own, clearly shows that the true cause why this animal does not speak is the narrowness of its capacity of intelligence.

However absurd it may seem, the idea has nevertheless sometimes been maintained, that articulate speech is natural to man. There are grave disquisitions in existence on one side and the other of this position. The historian Herodotus, styled the father of history, narrates the following story as if he honored it with entire credence. Psammetichus, a king of Egypt, desirous of testing the pretension of his nation to be the most ancient people in the world, took this method of doing so. He placed two infants from the moment of their birth in a secluded situation under the charge of a shepherd, with strict injunctions that no one should be permitted to speak to them from that time forward. The shepherd obeyed, and once, on entering their apartment, he was accosted by the children with the word bekos, bekos. As it conveyed no idea to his mind, he took no notice of it at first; but finding it was repeated again and again, he related the fact to Psammetichus. The king immediately made inquiry, and found that this was the Phrygian term for bread; and on the strength of this experiment, we are told, the Egyptians yielded to the Phrygians the palm of superior antiquity.

Were articulate language natural to man, there would be but one language for the whole human race, and men would be born with a knowledge of it. We are born with the capacity of speech, and learn by imitation to utter any particular articulate signs of ideas. The capacity of acquiring an art is a very different thing from the actual possession of it. The existence of so many different languages proves that there is no natural connexion between the signs and the thing signified; it is merely arbitrary. It may be thought that many words are to be excepted from this remark, as, for instance in our own language, such words as crash, buzz, etc.; but I am inclined to regard the resemblance in these words to the things signified as merely accidental.

The difference between various languages in point of copiousness, regularity, melody, etc., is immense. Contrast the meagre French with the exhaustless Arabic; the harsh, guttural Hottentot with the soft, musical Italian. These various characteristics of the languages of the world are not the offspring of accident, but are referable on philosophical principles to definite physical, moral, and intellectual causes. This branch of

our subject, however, must be set aside to make way for other topics.

Our attention is now to be directed to gesture, including under this term the expression of the countenance and of the human frame generally. The expression of the features and frame is, properly and generally speaking, the language of nature; though art often counterfeits this language, and though, moreover, some arbitrary additions have been almost universally made to it. The motions of the limbs have become to some extent artificial representations of meaning. The natural language of gesture is more comprehensive and more readily understood than that of tones. Contempt, for instance, is much more perceptible in the expression of the countenance and motion of the hand than in the mere tone of the voice. But the natural language of gesture, like that of tones, serves only to denote emotion. The expression of other ideas requires instituted signs, such as written characters, articulate sounds, or artificial gestures. Every emotion has from nature its peculiar expression of countenance, and perhaps its peculiar motions of the limbs, as well as its peculiar tone of voice;* and the reality of the emotion may reasonably be suspected, whatever be the tenor of the oral language, if this be not accompanied by the proper visible manifestations of feeling. Gesture is denominated by Cicero the language of the body,† and, though less comprehensive than artificial oral language, it is more expeditious and convincing. It is easy to utter a falsehood in words; it is much more difficult to counterfeit a suitable expression of countenance. Tears and blushes cannot be called up at pleasure; at least not by mankind in general.

It is astonishing to what an extent gesture alone can go in representing and communicating ideas. We are told by Adair, in his History of American Indians, that "two far-distant Indian nations, who understand not a word of each other's language, will intelligibly converse together, and contract engagements without any interpreters in such a surprising manner as is scarcely credible." The deaf and dumb hold intercourse between themselves and with others by a language of gestures, natural and

* "Omnis enim motus animi suum quemdam a naturâ habet vultum, et sonum, et gestum, . . . . ut nervi in fidibus, ita sonant, ut a motu ani mi quoque sunt pulsæ." Cic. de Orat. III. 57.

"Est enim actio quasi sermo corporis." De Orat. III. 59.

artificial, which is wonderfully comprehensive, precise, and intelligible. They have an acuteness in interpreting the slightest motion which far surpasses ours; and hence arises the fact, which at first view often appears strange, that they can more readily converse with each other than with those possessed of the sense of hearing. Such is the power of natural signs, that in institutions for the education of the deaf and dumb one year is sufficient to convey to the mind of an intelligent pupil the signification of thousands of written words. Through these natural signs, a few years since, a Chinese youth and Mr. Laurent Clerc, an assistant teacher in the Hartford Asylum, himself deaf and dumb, carried on a conversation with each other for a considerable time. The Chinese communicated in this way a great many facts relative to the place of his birth, his former occupations, the religion of his countrymen, the meaning of Chinese words, etc.; and the result of the conversation amazed all who observed it.

It is a matter of history, that Roscius, a celebrated Roman actor, and Cicero had an amicable contest with each other, which could represent the same thought in the greatest number of different ways, the former by gesture or the latter in words; and, it is stated, though we can hardly believe it, that neither party could be pronounced victorious. This contest is mentioned by Cicero himself in one of his letters. It is spoken of by Macrobius as one of habitual occurrence in the intercourse of these two distinguished Romans.*

All who will read this article have undoubtedly heard of the art of pantomime; and some may have been present at exhibitions of it. It is the representation of scenes in dumb show, that is, by the expression of the face and frame and motions of the limbs, without oral language. It is admitted that this art was carried by the ancients to a much higher pitch of perfection than that at which it stands in the present day; and, indeed, we cannot possibly imagine that such spiritless exhibitions as those of modern pantomimes should have produced the wonderful effect which the art is recorded to have had upon

* "Satis constat contendere eum (Ciceronem) cum ipso histrione (Roscio) solitum, utrum ille sæpius eandem sententiam variis gestibus efficeret, an ipse, per eloquentiæ copiam, sermone diverso pronunciaret. Quæ res ad hanc artis suæ fiduciam Roscium abstraxit, ut librum conscriberet quo eloquentiam cum histrioniâ compararet.” Macrobius, Saturn. II. 10.

Greek and Roman assemblies. Its invention is ascribed to Telestes, a dancer in the employ of Eschylus, the Greek tragedian.* Among the Greeks, however, it does not seem to have been practised to any great extent. They appear to have generally preferred more intellectual amusements. But the Romans, a less refined people, became so much attached to it, that it ranked highest on the list of their favorite diversions, excepting perhaps the combats of wild beasts and gladiators. The first exercise of this art in Rome is stated by Livy to have occurred as follows. Livius Andronicus, the first Roman dramatist, was accustomed, as were almost all the ancient dramatic writers, to act one of the principal parts of his play himself. His mode of acting in one of his dramas so delighted the audience, that, in the phrase of modern time, he was repeatedly encored; and, his voice becoming hoarse and failing him from the frequent recitals of his part, he entreated the spectators to permit a boy to repeat the words, while he exhibited the correspondent action. His request was granted, and the applause of those who saw the performance was redoubled; for, as Livy says, he acted the part with much more spirit when he was no longer fatigued by the exertion of his voice. From this time forward the art was practised to a greater or less extent for the diversion of the people. During the republic, however, it did not reach a high point of perfection; it was not till Augustus ascended his throne that it was in its zenith. All classes, high and low, then became enraptured with it. Whole dramas were enacted in dumb show. Quarrels and bloodshed frequently arose from the warmth of feeling with which various parties upheld the pretensions of the different actors. The two principal pantomimes were Pylades and Bathyllus. The emperor Augustus espoused the cause of Pylades, and his favorite Maecenas that of Bathyllus; and each actor had a numerous party among the people. When a tumult occurred on their account among the populace, and Pylades was reproached for it by Augustus, he significantly replied: "It is well for you that they occupy their minds about us ;" intimating that Augustus might not be so secure in the possession of imperial power, were not the attention of the people diverted to another quarter.

Pylades had a pupil named Hylas. On a certain occasion Pylades was one of the spectators in the theatre, while Hylas was Macrobius, Sat. L. II. c. 7.

Athenæus, Casaub. p. 22.

acting the part of Agamemnon in a pantomine. He represented the greatness of Agamemnon by making gestures to denote tallness and size. Pylades called out from among the spectators that he was denoting corporeal instead of mental greatness. Being compelled to go upon the stage himself to exhibit the idea, he did so, by appearing immersed in deep thought, declaring that to be the characteristic of a great mind. At another time, when Hylas was acting the part of the blind Edipus, and did not exhibit with adequate precision the natural influence of want of sight upon his motions, Pylades exclaimed: Thou seest.—I am here reminded of an anecdote of Garrick, which is not entirely irrelevant. A French comedian of eminence inquired of him his opinion of the manner in which he had performed the part of a drunkard on the previous evening. The reply was: "Very well indeed, sir; but your left leg was too sober."

We are told by Tacitus, that in the reign of Tiberius, the successor of Augustus, popular disturbances arising from the rivalry of the pantomimes became so frequent and serious, as to induce the emperor to banish them from Italy.* They were alternately recalled and expelled several times by subsequent emperors. The tenor of some of the laws which Tiberius found it necessary to enact evinces the extravagance of Roman feeling in regard to their art. It was enacted that their exhibitions should not take place any where but in the public theatres; that no senator should make visits to the pantomimes in their own dwellings; and that Roman knights should not surround them in the streets. The emperor Caligula was deeply enamored of the art. He was so carried away with it as to be unable to refrain from imitating in public the gestures of the actors before him. He practised the art himself in his palace with incessant application. With Nero, likewise, it was a favorite amusement; and, at the time when his death occurred, he was preparing himself, we are told, to act the part of Virgil's Turnus. Suetonius states that many believed Paris, a celebrated pantomime, to have been put to death by him from jealousy of his superior skill in play

ing.

The grave Seneca confesses his passion for it; and he might have cited the example of Socrates in his favor. Lucian wrote a considerable treatise concerning it. It may be well to introduce here two anecdotes which are related by him.—A distin† Ann. I. 77.

* Ann. IV. 14.