CONCLUDING THE SPEECH
Preparing the Conclusion. No architect would attempt to plan a
building unless he knew the purpose for which it was to be used. No
writer of a story would start to put down words until he knew exactly
how his story was to end. He must plan to bring about a certain
conclusion. The hero and heroine must be united in marriage. The
scheming villain must be brought to justice. Or if he scorn the usual
ending of the "lived happily ever after" kind of fiction, he can plan
to kill his hero and heroine, or both; or he can decide for once that
his story shall be more like real life than is usually the case, and
have wickedness triumph over virtue. Whatever he elects to do at the
conclusion of his story, whether it be long or short, the principle of
his planning is the same--he must know what he is going to do and
adequately prepare for it during the course of, previous events.
One other thing every writer must secure. The ending of a book must be
the most interesting part of it. It must rise highest in interest. It
must be surest of appeal. Otherwise the author runs the risk of not
having people read his book through to its conclusion, and as every
book is written in the hope and expectation that it will be read
through, a book which fails to hold the attention of its readers
defeats its own purpose.
The foregoing statements are self-evident but they are set down
because their underlying principles can be transferred to a
consideration of the preparation of conclusions for speeches.
Is a Conclusion Necessary? But before we use them let us ask whether
all speeches require conclusions.
There are some people--thoughtless, if nothing worse--who habitually
end letters by adding some such expression as "Having nothing more to
say, I shall now close." Is there any sense in writing such a
sentence? If the letter comes only so far and the signature follows,
do not those items indicate that the writer has nothing more to say
and is actually closing? Why then, when a speaker has said all he has
to say, should he not simply stop and sit down? Will that not indicate
quite clearly that he has finished his speech? What effect would such
an ending have?
In the first place the speaker runs the risk of appearing at least
discourteous, if not actually rude, to his audience. To fling his
material at them, then to leave it so, would impress men and women
much as the brusque exit from a group of people in a room would or the
slamming of a door of an office.
In the second place the speaker runs the graver risk of not making
clear and emphatic the purpose of his speech. He may have been quite
plain and effective during the course of his explanation or argument
but an audience hears a speech only once. Can he trust to their
recollection of what he has tried to impress upon them? Will they
carry away exactly what he wants them to retain? Has he made the main
topics, the chief aim, stand out prominently enough? Can he merely
stop speaking? These are quite important aspects of a grave
responsibility.
In the third place--though this may be considered less important than
the preceding--the speaker gives the impression that he has not
actually "finished" his speech. No one cares for unfinished articles,
whether they be dishes of food, pieces of furniture, poems, or
speeches. Without unduly stressing the fact that a speech is a
carefully organized and constructed product, it may be stated that it
is always a profitable effort to try to round off your remarks. A good
conclusion gives an impression of completeness, of an effective
product. Audiences are delicately susceptible to these impressions.
Twenty-two centuries ago Aristotle, in criticizing Greek oratory,
declared that the first purpose of the conclusion was to conciliate
the audience in favor of the speaker. As human nature has not changed
much in the ages since, the statement still holds true.
Speakers, then, should provide conclusions for all their speeches.
Although the entire matter of planning the speech belongs to a later
chapter some facts concerning it as they relate to the conclusion must
be set down here.
Relation of the Conclusion to the Speech. The conclusion should
reflect the purpose of the speech. It should enforce the reason for
the delivery of the speech. As it emphasizes the purpose of the speech
it should be in the speaker's mind before he begins to plan the
development of his remarks. It should be kept constantly in his mind
as he delivers his material. A train from Chicago bound for New York
is not allowed to turn off on all the switches it meets in its
journey. A speaker who wants to secure from a jury a verdict for
damages from a traction company does not discuss presidential
candidates. He works towards his conclusion. A legislator who wants
votes to pass a bill makes his conclusion and his speech conform to
that purpose. In all likelihood, his conclusion plainly asks for the
votes he has been proving that his fellow legislators should cast. A
school principal pleading with boys to stop gambling knows that his
conclusion is going to be a call for a showing of hands to pledge
support of his recommendations. A labor agitator knows that his
conclusion is going to be an appeal to a sense of class prejudice, so
he speaks with that continually in mind. An efficiency expert in shop
management knows that his conclusion is going to enforce the saving in
damages for injury by accident if a scheme of safety devices be
installed, so he speaks with that conclusion constantly in his mind.
In court the prosecuting attorney tells in his introduction exactly
what he intends to prove. His conclusion shows that he has proved what
he announced.
One is tempted to say that the test of a good speech, a well-prepared
speech, is its conclusion. How many times one hears a speaker
floundering along trying to do something, rambling about, making no
impression, not advancing a pace, and then later receives from the
unfortunate the confession, "I wanted to stop but I didn't know how to
do it." No conclusion had been prepared beforehand. It is quite as
disturbing to hear a speaker pass beyond the place where he could have
made a good conclusion. If he realizes this he slips into the state of
the first speaker described in this paragraph. If he does not realize
when he reaches a good conclusion he talks too long and weakens the
effect by stopping on a lower plane than he has already reached. This
fault corresponds to the story teller whose book drops in interest at
the end. The son of a minister was asked whether his father's sermon
the previous Sunday had-not had some good points in it. The boy
replied, "Yes, three good points where he should have stopped."
Length of the Conclusion. It must not be inferred from anything here
stated concerning the importance of the conclusion that it need be
long. A good rule for the length of the conclusion is the same rule
that applies to the length of the introduction. It should be just long
enough to do best what it is intended to do. As in the case of the
introduction, so for the conclusion, the shorter the better, if
consistent with clearness and effect. If either introduction or
conclusion must deliberately be reduced the conclusion will stand the
most compression. A conclusion will frequently fail of its effect if
it is so long that the audience anticipates its main points. It fails
if it is so long that it adds nothing of clearness or emphasis to the
speech itself. It will end by boring if it is too long for the
importance of its material. It will often produce a deeper, more
lasting impression by its very conciseness. Brevity is the soul of
more than mere humor. A brief remark will cut deeper than a long
involved sentence. The speaker who had shown that the recent great
war fails unless the reconstruction to be accomplished is worthy
needed no more involved conclusion than the statement, "It is what we
do tomorrow that will justify what we did yesterday."
Coupled with this matter of effect is the length of the speech itself.
Short speeches are likely to require only short conclusions. Long
speeches more naturally require longer conclusions.
Consider the following conclusions. Comment upon them. It would be
interesting to try to decide the length of the speeches from which
they are taken, then look at the originals, all of which are easily
procurable at libraries.
That is in substance my theory of what our foreign policy
should be. Let us not boast, not insult any one, but make up
our minds coolly what it is necesary to say, say it, and then
stand to it, whatever the consequences may be.
THEODORE ROOSEVELT at Waukesha, 1903
The foregoing is quite matter-of-fact. It contains no emotional appeal
at all. Yet even a strong emotional feeling can be put into a short
conclusion. From the date and the circumstances surrounding the next
the reader can easily picture for himself the intense emotion of the
audience which listened to these words from the leader of the free
states against the South.
Neither let us be slandered from our duty by false
accusations against us, nor frightened from it by menaces of
destruction to the government, nor of dungeons to ourselves.
Let us have faith that right makes might, and in that faith
let us to the end dare to do our duty as we understand it.
ABRAHAM LINCOLN: _Cooper Union Speech_, 1860
While the student planning his own speech must determine exactly what
he shall put into his conclusion--depending always upon his material
and his purpose--there are a few general hints which will help him.
The Retrospective Conclusion. A conclusion may be entirely
retrospective. This means merely that it may refer back to the remarks
which have been delivered in the body of the speech. A speaker does
this to emphasize something he has already discussed by pointing out
to his audience that he wants them to remember that from what he has
said. Conclusions of this kind usually have no emotional appeal. They
are likely to be found in explanatory addresses, where the clearness
of the exposition should make hearers accept it as true. If a man has
proven a fact--as in a law court--he does not have to make an appeal
to feeling to secure a verdict. Juries are supposed to decide on the
facts alone. This kind of conclusion emphasizes, repeats, clarifies,
enforces. The first of the following is a good illustration of one
kind of conclusion which refers to the remarks made in the speech
proper. Notice that it enforces the speaker's opinions by a calm
explanation of his sincerity.
I want you to think of what I have said, because it
represents all of the sincerity and earnestness that I have,
and I say to you here, from this platform, nothing that I
have not already stated in effect, and nothing I would not
say at a private table with any of the biggest corporation
managers in the land.
THEODORE ROOSEVELT at Fitchburg, 1902
The next, while it is exactly the same kind in material, adds some
elements of stronger feeling. Yet in the main it also enforces the
speaker's opinion by a clear explanation of his action. From this
conclusion alone we know exactly the material and purpose of the
entire speech.
Sir, I will detain you no longer. There are some parts of
this bill which I highly approve; there are others in which I
should acquiesce; but those to which I have now stated my
objections appear to me so destitute of all justice, so
burdensome and so dangerous to that interest which has
steadily enriched, gallantly defended, and proudly
distinguished us, that nothing can prevail upon me to give it
my support.
DANIEL WEBSTER: _The Tariff_, 1824
The Anticipatory Conclusion. Just as a conclusion may be
retrospective, so it may be anticipatory. It may start from the
position defined or explained or reached by the speech and look
forward to what may happen, what must be done, what should be
instituted, what should be changed, what votes should be cast, what
punishment should be inflicted, what pardons granted. The student
should make a list of all possible things in the future which could be
anticipated in the conclusions of various speeches. If one will think
of the purposes of most delivered speeches he will realize that this
kind of conclusion is much more frequent than the previous kind as so
many speeches anticipate future action or events. Dealing with
entirely different topics the three following extracts illustrate this
kind of conclusion. Washington was arguing against the formation of
parties in the new nation, trying to avert the inevitable.
There is an opinion that parties in free countries are useful
checks upon the administration of the government, and serve
to keep alive the spirit of liberty. This within certain
limits is probably true; and in governments of a monarchical
cast, patriotism may look with indulgence if not with favor
upon the spirit of party. But in those of the popular
character, in governments purely elective, it is a spirit not
to be encouraged. From their natural tendency it is certain
there will always be enough of that spirit for every salutary
purpose. And there being constant danger of excess, the
effort ought to be by force of public opinion to mitigate and
assuage it. A fire not to be quenched, it demands a uniform
vigilance to prevent its bursting into a flame, lest, instead
of warming, it should consume.
GEORGE WASHINGTON: _Farewell Address_, 1796
With the dignity and the calmness of the preceding, contrast the
Biblical fervor of the next--the magnanimous program of the reuniter
of a divided people.
With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness
in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive
on to finish the work we are in; to bind up the nation's
wounds; to care for him who shall have borne the battle, and
for his widow and his orphan--to do all which may achieve and
cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves, and with
all nations.
ABRAHAM LINCOLN: _Second Inaugural_, 1865
In totally different circumstances the next conclusion was delivered,
yet it bears the same aspect of anticipation. There is not a single
hint in it of the material of the speech which preceded it, it takes
no glance backward, it looks forward only. Its effectiveness comes
from the element of leadership, that gesture of pointing the way for
loyal Americans to follow.
No nation as great as ours can expect to escape the penalty
of greatness, for greatness does not come without trouble and
labor. There are problems ahead of us at home and problems
abroad, because such problems are incident to the working out
of a great national career. We do not shrink from them. Scant
is our patience with those who preach the gospel of craven
weakness. No nation under the sun ever yet played a part
worth playing if it feared its fate overmuch--if it did not
have the courage to be great. We of America, we, the sons of
a nation yet in the pride of its lusty youth, spurn the
teachings of distrust, spurn the creed of failure and
despair. We know that the future is ours if we have in us the
manhood to grasp it, and we enter the new century girding our
loins for the contest before us, rejoicing in the struggle,
and resolute so to bear ourselves that the nation's future
shall even surpass her glorious past.
THEODORE ROOSEVELT at Philadelphia, 1902
Grave times always make men look into the future. All acts are judged
and justified after they are performed. All progress depends upon this
straining the vision into the darkness of the yet-to-be. Upon the eve
of great struggles anticipation is always uppermost in men's minds. In
the midst of the strife it is man's hope. In the next extract, only
one sentence glances backward.
For us there is but one choice. We have made it. Woe be to
the man or group of men that seeks to stand in our way in
this day of high resolution when every principle we hold
dearest is to be vindicated and made secure for the
salvation of the nations. We are ready to plead at the bar
of history, and our flag shall wear a new luster. Once more
we shall make good with our lives and fortunes the great
faith to which we were born, and a new glory shall shine in
the face of our people.
WOODROW WILSON: _Flag Day Address_, 1917
Retrospective and Anticipatory Conclusion. While it does not occur so
frequently as the two kinds just illustrated it is possible for a
conclusion to be both retrospective and anticipatory--to look both
backward and forward. The conclusion may enforce what the speech has
declared or proved, then using this position as a safe starting point
for a new departure, look forward and indicate what may follow or what
should be done. The only danger in such an attempt is that the dual
aspect may be difficult to make effective. Either one may neutralize
the other. Still, a careful thinker and master of clear language may
be able to carry an audience with him in such a treatment. The
division in the conclusion between the backward glance and the forward
vision need not be equal. Here again the effect to be made upon the
audience, the purpose of the speech, must be the determining factor.
Notice how the two are blended in the following conclusion from a much
read commemorative oration.
And now, friends and fellow-citizens, it is time to bring
this discourse to a close.
We have indulged in gratifying recollections of the past, in
the prosperity and pleasures of the present, and in high
hopes for the future. But let us remember that we have
duties and obligations to perform, corresponding to the
blessings which we enjoy. Let us remember the trust, the
sacred trust, attaching to the rich inheritance which we have
received from our fathers. Let us feel our personal
responsibility, to the full extent of our power and
influence, for the preservation of the principles of civil
and religious liberty. And let us remember that it is only
religion, and morals, and knowledge, that can make men
respectable, under any form of government....
DANIEL WEBSTER: _Completion of Bunker Hill
Monument_, 1843
Conclusions are classified in general under three headings: 1.
Recapitulation; 2. Summary; 3. Peroration.
The Recapitulation. The first of these--recapitulation--is exactly
defined by the etymology of the word itself. Its root is Latin
_caput_, head. So recapitulation means the repetition of the heads or
main topics of a preceding discussion. Coming at the end of an
important speech of some length, such a conclusion is invaluable. If
the speaker has explained clearly or reasoned convincingly his
audience will have been enlightened or convinced. Then at the end, to
assure them they are justified in their knowledge or conviction, he
repeats in easily remembered sequence the heads which he has treated
in his extended remarks. It is as though he chose from his large
assortment a small package which he does up neatly for his audience to
carry away with them. Frequently, too, the recapitulation corresponds
exactly to the plan as announced in the introduction and followed
throughout the speech. This firmly impresses the main points upon the
brains of the hearers.
A lawyer in court starts by announcing that he will prove a certain
number of facts. After his plea is finished, in the conclusion of his
speech, he recapitulates, showing that he has proved these things. A
minister, a political candidate, a business man, a social worker--in
fact, every speaker will find such a clear-cut listing an informative,
convincing manner of constructing a conclusion. This extract shows a
clear, direct, simple recapitulation.
To recapitulate what has been said, we maintain, first, that
the Constitution, by its grants to Congress and its
prohibitions on the states, has sought to establish one
uniform standard of value, or medium of payment. Second,
that, by like means, it has endeavored to provide for one
uniform mode of discharging debts, when they are to be
discharged without payment. Third, that these objects are
connected, and that the first loses much of its importance,
if the last, also, be not accomplished. Fourth, that, reading
the grant to Congress and the prohibition on the States
together, the inference is strong that the Constitution
intended to confer an exclusive power to pass bankrupt laws
on Congress. Fifth, that the prohibition in the tenth section
reaches to all contracts, existing or future, in the same way
that the other prohibition, in the same section, extends to
all debts, existing or future. Sixth, that, upon any other
construction, one great political object of the Constitution
will fail of its accomplishment.
DANIEL WEBSTER: _Ogden vs. Saunders_, 1827
The Summary. The second kind--a summary--does somewhat the same thing
that the recapitulation does, but it effects it in a different matter.
Note that the recapitulation _repeats_ the main headings of the
speech; it usually uses the same or similar phrasing.
The summary does not do this. The summary condenses the entire
material of the speech, so that it is presented to the audience in
shortened, general statements, sufficient to recall to them what the
speaker has already presented, without actually repeating his previous
statements. This kind of conclusion is perhaps more usual than the
preceding one. It is known by a variety of terms--summing up, resume,
epitome, review, precis, condensation.
In the first of the subjoined illustrations notice that the words
"possible modes" contain practically all the speech itself. So the
four words at the end, "faction, corruption, anarchy, and despotism,"
hold a great deal of the latter part of the speech. These expressions
do not repeat the heads of divisions; they condense long passages. The
extract is a summary.
I have thus presented all possible modes in which a
government founded upon the will of an absolute majority will
be modified; and have demonstrated that, in all its forms,
whether in a majority of the people, as in a mere democracy,
or in a majority of their representatives, without a
constitution, to be interpreted as the will of the majority,
the result will be the same: two hostile interests will
inevitably be created by the action of the government, to be
followed by hostile legislation, and that by faction,
corruption, anarchy, and despotism.
JOHN C. CALHOUN: _Speech on the Force Bill, 1833_
From the following pick out the expressions which summarize long
passages of the preceding speech. Amplify them to indicate what they
might cover.
I firmly believe in my countrymen, and therefore I believe
that the chief thing necessary in order that they shall work
together is that they shall know one another--that the
Northerner shall know the Southerner, and the man of one
occupation know the man of another occupation; the man who
works in one walk of life know the man who works in another
walk of life, so that we may realize that the things which
divide us are superficial, are unimportant, and that we are,
and must ever be, knit together into one indissoluble mass by
our common American brotherhood.
THEODORE ROOSEVELT at Chattanooga, 1902
The Peroration. A peroration is a conclusion which--whatever may be
its material and treatment--has an appeal to the feelings, to the
emotions. It strives to move the audience to act, to arouse them to an
expression of their wills, to stir them to deeds. It usually comes at
the end of a speech of persuasion. It appeals to sentiments of right,
justice, humanity, religion. It seldom merely concludes a speech; it
looks forward to some such definite action as casting a vote, joining
an organization or movement, contributing money, going out on strike,
returning to work, pledging support, signing a petition.
These purposes suggest its material. It is usually a direct appeal,
personal and collective, to all the hearers. Intense in feeling,
tinged with emotion, it justifies itself by its sincerity and honesty
alone. Its apparent success is not the measure of its merit. Too
frequently an appeal to low prejudices, class sentiment and prejudice,
base motives, mob instincts will carry a group of people in a certain
direction with as little sense and reason as a flock of sheep display.
Every student can cite a dozen instances of such unwarranted and
unworthy responses to skilful perverted perorations. Answering to its
emotional tone the style of a peroration is likely to rise above the
usual, to become less simple, less direct. In this temptation for the
speaker lies a second danger quite as grave as the one just indicated.
In an attempt to wax eloquent he is likely to become grandiloquent,
bombastic, ridiculous. Many an experienced speaker makes an unworthy
exhibition of himself under such circumstances. One specimen of such
nonsense will serve as a warning.
When the terms for the use of the Panama Canal were drawn up there
arose a discussion as to certain kinds of ships which might pass
through the canal free of tolls. A treaty with Great Britain prevented
tolls-exemption for privately owned vessels. In a speech in Congress
upon this topic one member delivered the following inflated and
inconsequential peroration. Can any one with any sanity see any
connection of the Revolutionary War, Jefferson, Valley Forge, with a
plain understanding of such a business matter as charging tolls for
the use of a waterway? To get the full effect of this piece of
"stupendous folly"--to quote the speaker's own words--the student
should declaim it aloud with as much attempt at oratorical effect as
its author expended upon it.
Now, may the God of our fathers, who nerved 3,000,000
backwoods Americans to fling their gage of battle into the
face of the mightiest monarch in the world, who guided the
hand of Jefferson in writing the charter of liberty, who
sustained Washington and his ragged and starving army amid
the awful horrors of Valley Forge, and who gave them complete
victory on the blood-stained heights of Yorktown, may He
lead members to vote so as to prevent this stupendous
folly--this unspeakable humiliation of the American republic.
When the circumstances are grave enough to justify impassioned
language a good speaker need not fear its effect. If it be suitable,
honest, and sincere, a peroration may be as emotional as human
feelings dictate. So-called "flowery language" seldom is the medium of
deep feeling. The strongest emotions may be expressed in the simplest
terms. Notice how, in the three extracts here quoted, the feeling is
more intense in each succeeding one. Analyze the style. Consider the
words, the phrases, the sentences in length and structure. Explain the
close relation of the circumstances and the speaker with the material
and the style. What was the purpose of each?
Sir, let it be to the honor of Congress that in these days of
political strife and controversy, we have laid aside for once
the sin that most easily besets us, and, with unanimity of
counsel, and with singleness of heart and of purpose, have
accomplished for our country one measure of unquestionable
good.
DANIEL WEBSTER: _Uniform System of Bankruptcy_, 1840
Lord Chatham addressed the House of Lords in protest against the
inhumanities of some of the early British efforts to suppress the
American Revolution.
I call upon that right reverend bench, those holy ministers
of the Gospel, and pious pastors of our Church--I conjure
them to join in the holy work, and vindicate the religion of
their God. I appeal to the wisdom and law of this learned
bench, to defend and support the justice of their country. I
call upon the Bishops to interpose the unsullied sanctity of
their lawn; upon the learned Judges, to interpose their
purity upon the honor of your Lordships, to reverence the
dignity of your ancestors and to maintain your own. I call
upon the spirit and humanity of my country, to vindicate the
national character. I invoke the genius of the Constitution.
From the tapestry that adorns these walls the immortal
ancestor of this noble Lord frowns with indignation at the
disgrace of his country....
I again call upon your Lordships, and the united powers of
the state, to examine it thoroughly and decisively, and to
stamp upon it an indelible stigma of the public abhorrence.
And I again implore those holy prelates of our religion to do
away with these iniquities from among us! Let them perform a
lustration; let them purify this House, and this country,
from this sin.
My Lords, I am old and weak, and at present unable to say
more; but my feelings and indignation were too strong to have
said less. I could not have slept this night in my bed, nor
reposed my head on my pillow, without giving vent to my
eternal abhorrence of such preposterous and enormous
principles.
At about the same time the same circumstances evoked several famous
speeches, one of which ended with this well-known peroration.
It is in vain, Sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may
cry, Peace, Peace--but there is no peace. The war is actually
begun! The next gale that sweeps from the North will bring to
our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are
already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that
gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or
peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and
slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course
others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me
death!
PATRICK HENRY in the Virginia Convention, 1775
Preparing and Delivering Conclusions. Students cannot very well be
asked to prepare and deliver conclusions to speeches which do not yet
exist, so there is no way of devising conclusions until later. But
students should report upon conclusions to speeches they have recently
listened to, and explain to the class their opinions concerning their
material, methods, treatment, delivery, effect. The following
questions will help in judging and criticizing:
Was the conclusion too long?
Was it so short as to seem abrupt?
Did it impress the audience?
How could it have been improved?
Was it recapitulation, summary, peroration?
Was it retrospective, anticipatory, or both?
What was its relation to the main part of the speech?
Did it refer to the entire speech or only a portion?
What was its relation to the introduction?
Did the speech end where it began?
Did it end as it began?
Was the conclusion in bad taste?
What was its style?
What merits had it?
What defects?
What suggestions could you offer for its improvement?
With reference to the earlier parts of the speech, how was it delivered?
The following conclusions should be studied from all the angles
suggested in this chapter and previous ones. An air of reality will be
secured if they are memorized and spoken before the class.
EXERCISES
1. There are many qualities which we need alike in private
citizen and in public man, but three above all--three for the
lack of which no brilliancy and no genius can atone--and
those three are courage, honesty, and common sense.
THEODORE ROOSEVELT at Antietam, 1903
2. Poor Sprat has perished despite his splendid tomb in the
Abbey. Johnson has only a cracked stone and a worn-out
inscription (for the Hercules in St. Paul's is
unrecognizable) but he dwells where he would wish to
dwell--in the loving memory of men.
AUGUSTINE BIRRELL: _Transmission of Dr. Johnson's
Personality_, 1884
3. So, my fellow citizens, the reason I came away from
Washington is that I sometimes get lonely down there. There
are so many people in Washington who know things that are not
so, and there are so few people who know anything about what
the people of the United States are thinking about. I have to
come away and get reminded of the rest of the country. I have
to come away and talk to men who are up against the real
thing and say to them, "I am with you if you are with me."
And the only test of being with me is not to think about me
personally at all, but merely to think of me as the
expression for the time being of the power and dignity and
hope of the United States.
WOODROW WILSON: _Speech to the American Federation
of Labor_, 1917
4. But if, Sir Henry, in gratitude for this beautiful tribute
which I have just paid you, you should feel tempted to
reciprocate by taking my horses from my carriage and dragging
me in triumph through the streets, I beg that you will
restrain yourself for two reasons. The first reason is--I
have no horses; the second is--I have no carriage.
SIMEON FORD: _Me and Sir Henry_ (Irving), 1899
5. Literature has its permanent marks. It is a connected growth
and its life history is unbroken. Masterpieces have never
been produced by men who have had no masters. Reverence for
good work is the foundation of literary character. The
refusal to praise bad work or to imitate it is an author's
professional chastity.
Good work is the most honorable and lasting thing in the
world. Four elements enter into good work in literature:--
An original impulse--not necessarily a new idea, but a new
sense of the value of an idea.
A first-hand study of the subject and material.
A patient, joyful, unsparing labor for the perfection of
form.
A human aim--to cheer, console, purify, or ennoble the life
of the people. Without this aim literature has never sent an
arrow close to the mark.
It is only by good work that men of letters can justify their
right to a place in the world. The father of Thomas Carlyle
was a stone-mason, whose walls stood true and needed no
rebuilding. Carlyle's prayer was: "Let me write my books as
he built his houses."
HENRY VAN DYKE: _Books, Literature and the People_,
1900
6. All this, I know well enough, will sound wild and chimerical
to the profane herd of those vulgar and mechanical
politicians who have no place among us--a sort of people who
think that nothing exists but what is gross and material; and
who, therefore, far from being qualified to be directors of
the great movement of empire, are unfit to turn a wheel in
the machine. But to men truly initiated and rightly taught,
these ruling and master principles, which in the opinion of
such men as I have mentioned have no substantial existence,
are in truth everything and all in all. Magnanimity in
politics is not seldom the truest wisdom: and a great empire
and little minds go ill together. If we are conscious of our
station, and glow with zeal to fill our places as becomes our
situation and ourselves, we ought to auspicate all our public
proceedings on America with the old warning of the church,
_Sursum corda!_ We ought to elevate our minds to the
greatness of that trust to which the order of Providence has
called us. By adverting to the dignity of this high calling,
our ancestors have turned a savage wilderness into a glorious
empire; and have made the most extensive, and the only
honorable conquests, not by destroying, but by promoting the
wealth, the number, the happiness of the human race. Let us
get an American revenue as we have got an American empire.
English privileges have made it all that it is; English
privileges alone will make it all it can be.
In full confidence of this unalterable truth, I now (_quod
felix faustumque sit!_) lay the first stone of the Temple of
Peace; and I move you;--
That the colonies and plantations of Great Britain in North
America, consisting of fourteen separate governments, and
containing two millions and upwards of free inhabitants, have
not had the liberty and privilege of electing and sending any
knights and burgesses, or others, to represent them in the
high court of Parliament.
EDMUND BURKE: _Conciliation with America_, 1775
7. Now, Mr. Speaker, having fully answered all the arguments of
my opponents, I will retire to the cloak-room for a few
moments, to receive the congratulations of admiring mends.
JOHN ALLEN in a speech in Congress
8. Relying then on the patronage of your good will, I advance
with obedience to the work, ready to retire from it whenever
you become sensible how much better choice it is in your
power to make. And may that Infinite Power which rules the
destinies of the universe lead our councils to what is best,
and give them a favorable issue for your peace and
prosperity.
THOMAS JEFFERSON, _First Inaugural_, 1801
9. My friends, this is wholly an unprepared speech. I did not
expect to be called or to say a word when I came here. I
supposed I was merely to do something toward raising a flag.
I may, therefore, have said something indiscreet. But I have
said nothing but what I am willing to live by, and, if it be
the pleasure of Almighty God, to die by.
ABRAHAM LINCOLN at Philadelphia, 1861
10. I have spoken plainly because this seems to me the time when
it is most necessary to speak plainly, in order that all the
world may know that even in the heat and ardor of the
struggle and when our whole thought is of carrying the war
through to its end we have not forgotten any ideal or
principle for which the name of America has been held in
honor among the nations and for which it has been our glory
to contend in the great generations that went before us. A
supreme moment of history has come. The eyes of the people
have been opened and they see. The hand of God is laid upon
the nations. He will show them favor, I devoutly believe,
only if they rise to the clear heights of His own justice and
mercy.
WOODROW WILSON in a speech to Congress, 1917
11. This is what I have to say--ponder it; something you will
agree with, something you will disagree with; but think about
it, if I am wrong, the sooner the wrong is exposed the better
for me--this is what I have to say: God is bringing the
nations together. We must establish courts of reason for the
settlement of controversies between civilized nations. We
must maintain a force sufficient to preserve law and order
among barbaric nations; and we have small need of an army
for any other purpose. We must follow the maintenance of law
and the establishment of order and the foundations of
civilization with the vitalizing forces that make for
civilization. And we must constantly direct our purpose and
our policies to the time when the whole world shall have
become civilized; when men, families, communities, will yield
to reason and to conscience. And then we will draw our sword
Excalibur from its sheath and fling it out into the sea,
rejoicing that it is gone forever.
LYMAN ABBOTT: _International Brotherhood_, 1899
12. I give you, gentlemen, in conclusion, this sentiment: "The
Little Court-room at Geneva--where our royal mother England,
and her proud though untitled daughter, alike bent their
heads to the majesty of Law and accepted Justice as a greater
and better arbiter than Power."
WILLIAM M. EVARTS: _International Arbitration_, 1872
13. You recollect the old joke, I think it began with Preston of
South Carolina, that Boston exported no articles of native
growth but granite and ice. That was true then, but we have
improved since, and to these exports we have added roses and
cabbages. Mr. President, they are good roses, and good
cabbages, and I assure you that the granite is excellent hard
granite, and the ice is very cold ice.
EDWARD EVERETT HALE: _Boston_, 1880
14. Long live the Republic of Washington! Respected by mankind,
beloved of all its sons, long may it be the asylum of the
poor and oppressed of all lands and religions--long may it be
the citadel of that liberty which writes beneath the Eagle's
folded wings, "We will sell to no man, we will deny to no
man, Right and Justice."
Long live the United States of America! Filled with the free,
magnanimous spirit, crowned by the wisdom, blessed by the
moderation, hovered over by the guardian angel of
Washington's example; may they be ever worthy in all things
to be defended by the blood of the brave who know the rights
of man and shrink not from their assertion--may they be each
a column, and altogether, under the Constitution, a perpetual
Temple of Peace, unshadowed by a Caesar's palace, at whose
altar may freely commune all who seek the union of Liberty
and Brotherhood.
Long live our Country! Oh, long through the undying ages may
it stand, far removed in fact as in space from the Old
World's feuds and follies, alone in its grandeur and its
glory, itself the immortal monument of Him whom Providence
commissioned to teach man the power of Truth, and to prove to
the nations that their Redeemer liveth.
JOHN W. DANIEL: _Washington_, 1885
15. When that great and generous soldier, U.S. Grant gave back to
Lee, crushed, but ever glorious, the sword he had surrendered
at Appomattox, that magnanimous deed said to the people of
the South: "You are our brothers." But when the present ruler
of our grand republic on awakening to the condition of war
that confronted him, with his first commission placed the
leader's sword in the hands of those gallant Confederate
commanders, Joe Wheeler and Fitzhugh Lee, he wrote between
the lines in living letters of everlasting light the words:
"There is but one people of this Union, one flag alone for
all."
The South, Mr. Toastmaster, will feel that her sons have been
well given, that her blood has been well spilled, if that
sentiment is to be indeed the true inspiration of our
nation's future. God grant it may be as I believe it will.
CLARE HOWELL: _Our Reunited Country_, 1898
16. Two years ago last autumn, we walked on the sea beach
together, and with a strange and prophetic kind of poetry, he
likened the scene to his own failing health, the falling
leaves, the withered sea-weed, the dying grass upon the
shore, and the ebbing tide that was fast receding from us. He
told me that he felt prepared to go, for he had forgiven his
enemies, and could even rejoice in their happiness. Surely
this was a grand condition in which to step from this world
across the threshold to the next!
JOSEPH JEFFERSON: _In Memory of Edwin Booth_, 1893
17. A public spirit so lofty is not confined to other lands. You
are conscious of its stirrings in your soul. It calls you to
courageous service, and I am here to bid you obey the call.
Such patriotism may be yours. Let it be your parting vow that
it shall be yours. Bolingbroke described a patriot king in
England; I can imagine a patriot president in America. I can
see him indeed the choice of a party, and called to
administer the government when sectional jealousy is fiercest
and party passion most inflamed. I can imagine him seeing
clearly what justice and humanity, the national law and the
national welfare require him to do, and resolved to do it. I
can imagine him patiently enduring not only the mad cry of
party hate, the taunt of "recreant" and "traitor," of
"renegade" and "coward," but what is harder to bear, the
amazement, the doubt, the grief, the denunciation, of those
as sincerely devoted as he to the common welfare. I can
imagine him pushing firmly on, trusting the heart, the
intelligence, the conscience of his countrymen, healing angry
wounds, correcting misunderstandings, planting justice on
surer foundations, and, whether his party rise or fall,
lifting his country heavenward to a more perfect union,
prosperity, and peace. This is the spirit of a patriotism
that girds the commonwealth with the resistless splendor of
the moral law--the invulnerable panoply of states, the
celestial secret of a great nation and a happy people.
GEORGE WILLIAM CURTIS: _The Public Duty of Educated
Men_, 1877