In spite of the fact that a boastful spirit is attributed to Americans, the complete renunciation of external display so noticeable in General Grant is congenial to the American mind, and characteristic of a large proportion of our most successful and admired men. Undoubtedly our typical hero is the man who is capable of anything, but thinks it unbecoming to obtrude the fact. Possibly it is our self-reliant, democratic mode of life, which, since it offers a constant and varied test of the realities, as distinct from the appearances, gives rise to a contempt of the latter, and of those arts of pretence which impose upon a less sophisticated people. The truth about us is so accessible that cant becomes comparatively transparent and ridiculous.[86] There is no better phenomenon in which to observe personal ascendency than public speaking. When a man takes the floor in an assembly, all eyes are fixed upon him, all imaginations set to work to divine his personality and significance. If he looks like a true and steadfast man, of a spirit kindred with our own, we incline to him before he speaks, and believe that what he says will be congenial and right. We have all, probably, seen one arise in the midst of an audience strange to him, and by his mere attitude and expression of countenance create a subtle sense of community and expectation of consent. Another, on the contrary, will at once impress us as self-conceited, insincere, over-excited, cold, narrow, or in some other way out of touch with us, and not likely to say anything that will suit us. As our first speaker proceeds, he continues to create a sense that he feels the situation; we are at home and comfortable with him, because he seems to be of our sort, having similar views and not likely to lead us wrong; it is like the ease and relaxation that one feels among old friends. There can be no perfect eloquence that does not create this sense of personal congeniality. But this deference to our character and mood is only the basis for exerting power over us; he is what we are, but is much more; is decided where we were vacillating, clear where we were vague, warm where we were cold. He offers something affirmative and onward, and gives it the momentum of his own belief. A man may lack everything but tact and conviction and still be a forcible speaker; but without these nothing will avail. “Speak only what you do know and believe, and are personally in it, and are answerable for every word.” In comparison with these traits of mind and character, fluency, grace, logical order, and the like, are merely the decorative surface of oratory, which is well enough in its subordinate place, but can easily be dispensed with. Bismarck was not the less a great orator because he spoke “with difficulty and an appearance of struggle,” and Cromwell’s rude eloquence would hardly have been improved by lessons in elocution.