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MODEL SPEECHES FOR PRACTISE
BY
GRENVILLE KLEISER
_Formerly Instructor in Public Speaking at Yale Divinity
School, Yale University. Author of "How to Speak
in Public," "Great Speeches and How to Make
Them," "Complete Guide to Public Speaking,"
"How to Build Mental Power,"
"Talks on Talking," etc., etc._
[Illustration: Publisher's logo]
FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY
NEW YORK AND LONDON
1920
COPYRIGHT, 1920, BY
GRENVILLE KLEISER
[_Printed in the United States of America_]
Published, February, 1920
Copyright Under the Articles of the Copyright Convention of the
Pan-American Republics and the United States, August 11, 1910
PREFACE
This book contains a varied representation of successful speeches by
eminently successful speakers. They furnish, in convenient form, useful
material for study and practise.
The student is earnestly recommended to select one speech at a time,
analyze it carefully, note its special features, practise it aloud, and
then proceed to another. In this way he will cover the principal forms
of public speaking, and enable himself to apply his knowledge to any
occasion.
The cardinal rule is that a speaker learns to speak by speaking, hence a
careful reading and study of these speeches will do much to develop the
student's taste for correct literary and oratorical form.
GRENVILLE KLEISER.
New York City,
August, 1919.
CONTENTS
PAGE
INTRODUCTION--Aims and Purposes of Speaking--_Grenville Kleiser_ 11
After-Dinner Speaking--_James Russell Lowell_ 29
England, Mother of Nations--_Ralph Waldo Emerson_ 37
The Age of Research--_William Ewart Gladstone_ 44
Address of Welcome--_Oliver Wendell Holmes_ 52
Good-Will to America--_Sir William Harcourt_ 65
The Qualities That Win--_Charles Sumner_ 71
The English-Speaking Race--_George William Curtis_ 88
Woman--_Horace Porter_ 100
Tribute to Herbert Spencer--_William M. Evarts_ 113
The Empire State--_Chauncey M. Depew_ 120
Men of Letters--_James Anthony Froude_ 133
Literature and Politics--_John Morley_ 139
General Sherman--_Carl Schurz_ 147
Oration Over Alexander Hamilton--_Gouverneur Morris_ 154
Eulogy of McKinley--_Grover Cleveland_ 164
Decoration Day--_Thomas W. Higginson_ 170
Faith in Mankind--_Arthur T. Hadley_ 177
Washington and Lincoln--_Martin W. Littleton_ 181
Characteristics of Washington--_William McKinley_ 187
Let France Be Free--_George Jacques Danton_ 193
Sons of Harvard--_Charles Devens_ 199
Wake Up, England!--_King George_ 208
INTRODUCTION
AIMS AND PURPOSES OF SPEAKING
It is obvious that the style of your public speaking will depend upon
the specific purpose you have in view. If you have important truths
which you wish to make known, or a great and definite cause to serve,
you are likely to speak about it with earnestness and probably with
eloquence.
If, however, your purpose in speaking is a selfish one--if your object
is self-exploitation, or to serve some special interest of your own--if
you regard your speaking as an irksome task, or are unduly anxious as to
what your hearers will think of you and your effort--then you are almost
sure to fail.
On the other hand, if you have the interests of your hearers sincerely
at heart--if you really wish to render a worthy public service--if you
lose all thought of self in your heartfelt desire to serve others--then
you will have the most essential requirements of true and enduring
oratory.
THE NECESSITY OF A DEFINITE OBJECT
It is of the highest importance for you to have in mind a clear
conception of the end you wish to achieve by your speaking. This purpose
should characterize all you say, so that at each step in your speech you
will feel sure of making steady progress toward the desired object.
As a public speaker you assume serious responsibility. You are to
influence men for weal or woe. The words you speak are like so many
seeds, planted in the minds of your hearers, there to grow and multiply
according to their kind. What you say may have far-reaching effects,
hence the importance of careful forethought in the planning and
preparation of your speeches.
_The highest aim of your public speaking is not merely to instruct or
entertain, but to influence the wills of men, to make men think as you
think, and to persuade them to act in the manner you desire._ This is a
lofty aim, when supported by a good cause, and worthy of your greatest
talents and efforts.
THE KEY TO SUCCESS IN SPEAKING
The key to greatness of speech is sincerity. You must yourself be so
thoroughly imbued with the truth and desirability of what you are urging
upon others that they will be imprest by your integrity of purpose. To
have their confidence and good will is almost to win your cause.
But you must have deep and well-grounded convictions before you can hope
to convince and influence other men. Duty, necessity, magnanimity,
innate conviction, and sincere interest in the welfare of others,--these
beget true fervor and are essential to passionate and persuasive
speaking.
Lord Lytton emphasized the vital importance of earnest purpose in the
speaker. Referring to speech in the British Parliament he said, "Have
but fair sense and a competent knowledge of your subject, and then be
thoroughly in earnest to impress your own honest conviction upon others,
and no matter what your delivery, tho your gestures shock every rule in
Quintilian, you will command the ear and influence the debates of the
most accomplished, the most fastidious, and, take it altogether, the
noblest assembly of freemen in the world."
Keep in mind that the purpose of your public speaking is not only to
convince but also to persuade your hearers. It is not sufficient that
they merely agree with what you say; you must persuade them also to act
as you desire.
Hence you should aim to reach both their minds and hearts. Solid
argument, clear method, and indisputable facts are necessary for the
first purpose; vivid imagination, concrete illustration, and animated
feeling are necessary for the second.
THE NEED OF A KNOWLEDGE OF HUMAN NATURE
It will be of great practical value to you to have a knowledge of the
average man comprising your audience, his tastes, preferences,
prejudices, and proclivities. The more you adapt your speech to such an
average man, the more successful are you likely to be in influencing the
entire audience.
Aim, therefore, to use words, phrases, illustrations, and arguments such
as you think the average man will readily understand. Avoid anything
which would cause confusion, distraction, or prejudice in his mind. Use
every reasonable means to win his good will and approval.
Your speech is not a monolog, but a dialog, in which you are the
speaker, and the auditor a silent tho questioning listener. His mind is
in a constant attitude of interrogation toward you. And upon the degree
of your success in answering such silent but insistent questions will
depend the ultimate success of your speaking.
The process of persuading the hearer depends chiefly upon first being
persuaded yourself. You may be devoid of feeling, and yet convince your
hearers; but to reach their hearts and to move them surely toward the
desired purpose, you must yourself be moved.
Your work as a public speaker is radically different from that of the
actor or reciter. You are not impersonating some one else, nor
interpreting the thought of another. You must above all things be
natural, real, sincere and earnest. Your work is creative and
constructive.
THE RIGHT ATTITUDE OF A SPEAKER
However much you may study, plan, or premeditate, there must be no
indication of conscious or studied attempt in the act of speaking to an
audience. At that time everything must be merged into your personality.
Your earnestness in speaking arises principally from having a distinct
conception of the object aimed at and a strong desire to accomplish it.
Under these circumstances you summon to your aid all your available
power of thought and feeling. Your mental faculties are stimulated into
their fullest activity, and you bend every effort toward the purpose
before you.
But however zealous you may feel about the truth or righteousness of the
cause you espouse, you will do well always to keep within the bounds of
moderation. You can be vigorous without violence, and enthusiastic
without extravagance.
You must not only thoroughly know yourself and your subject, but also
your audience. You should carefully consider the best way to bring them
and yourself into unity. You may do this by making an appeal to some
principle commonly recognized and approved by men, such as patriotism,
justice, humanity, courage, duty, or righteousness.
What Phillips Brooks said about the preacher, applies with equal truth
to other forms of public speaking:
"_Whatever is in the sermon must be in the preacher first;
clearness, logicalness, vivacity, earnestness, sweetness, and
light, must be personal qualities in him before they are qualities
of thought and language in what he utters to his people._"
After you have earnestly studied the principles of public speaking you
should plan to have regular and frequent practise in addressing actual
audiences. There are associations and societies everywhere, constantly
in quest of good speakers. There will be ample opportunities for you if
you have properly developed your speaking abilities.
_And now to sum up some of the most essential things for you:_
1. READ ALOUD EVERY DAY
This is indispensable to your greatest progress in speech culture.
Reading aloud, properly done, compels you to pronounce the words,
instead of skimming over them as in silent reading. It gives you the
additional benefit of receiving a vocal impression of the rhythm and
structure of the composition.
_Keep in mind the following purposes of your reading aloud:_
1. To improve your speaking voice.
2. To acquire distinct enunciation.
3. To cultivate correct pronunciation.
4. To develop English style.
5. To increase your stock of words.
6. To store your memory with facts.
7. To analyze an author's thoughts.
8. To broaden your general knowledge.
2. FORM THE NOTE-BOOK HABIT
Keep separate note-books for the subjects in which you are deeply
interested and on which you intend some time to speak in public. Write
in them promptly any valuable ideas which come to you from the four
principal sources--observation, conversation, reading, and meditation.
You will be surprized to find how rapidly you can acquire useful data in
this way. In an emergency you can turn to the speech-material you have
accumulated and quickly solve the problem of "what to say."
Keep the contents of your note-books in systematic order. Classify ideas
under distinct headings. When possible write the ideas down in regular
speech form. Once a week read aloud the contents of your note-books.
3. DAILY STUDY YOUR DICTIONARY
Read aloud each day from your dictionary for at least five minutes, and
give special attention to the pronunciation and meaning of words. This
is one of the most useful exercises for building a large vocabulary.
Develop the dictionary habit. Be interested in words. Study them in
their contexts. Make special lists of your own. Select special words for
special uses. Note significant words in your general reading.
Think of words as important tools for public speaking. Choose them with
discrimination in your daily conversation. Consult your dictionary for
the meanings of words about which you are in doubt. Be an earnest
student of words.
4. SYSTEMATICALLY DEVELOP YOUR MENTAL POWERS
Give some time each day to the development of a judicial mind. Learn to
think deliberately and carefully. Study causes and principles. Look
deeply into things.
Be impartial in your examination of a subject. Study all sides of a
question or problem. Weigh the evidence with the purpose of ascertaining
the truth.
Beware the peril of prejudice. Keep your mind wide open to receive the
facts. Look at a subject from the other man's viewpoint. Cultivate
breadth of mind. Do not let your personal interests or desires mislead
you. Insist upon securing the truth at all costs.
5. DAILY PRACTISE COMPOSITION
Frequent use of the pen is essential to proficiency in speaking. Write a
little every day to form your English style. Daily exercise in writing
will rapidly develop felicity and fluency of speech.
Test your important ideas by putting them into writing. Constantly
cultivate clearness of expression. Examine, criticize, and improve your
own compositions.
Copy in your handwriting at least a page daily from one of the great
English stylists. Continue this exercise for a month and note the
improvement in your speech and writing.
6. PRACTISE IMPROMPTU SPEAKING
At least once a day stand up, in the privacy of your room, and make an
impromptu speech of two or three minutes. Select any subject which
interests you. Aim at fluency of style rather than depth of thought.
In these daily efforts, use the best chest voice at your command,
enunciate clearly, open your mouth well, and imagine yourself addressing
an actual audience. A month's regular practise of this exercise will
convince you of its great value.
7. STUDY SUCCESSFUL PUBLIC SPEAKERS
Hear the best public speakers available to you. Observe them critically.
Ask yourself such questions as these:
1. How does this speaker impress me?
2. Does he proceed in the most effective manner possible?
3. Does he convince me of the truth of his statements?
4. Does he persuade me to act as he wishes?
5. What are the elements of success in this speaker?
As you faithfully apply these various suggestions, you will constantly
improve in the art of public speaking, and so learn to wield this mighty
power not simply for your personal gratification but for the inspiration
and betterment of your fellow men.
MODEL SPEECHES FOR PRACTISE
AFTER-DINNER SPEAKING
BY JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL
My Lord Coleridge, My Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen:--I confess that my
mind was a little relieved when I found that the toast to which I am to
respond rolled three gentlemen, Cerberus-like into one, and when I saw
Science pulling impatiently at the leash on my left, and Art on my
right, and that therefore the responsibility of only a third part of the
acknowledgment has fallen to me. You, my lord, have alluded to the
difficulties of after-dinner oratory. I must say that I am one of those
who feel them more keenly the more after-dinner speeches I make. There
are a great many difficulties in the way, and there are three principal
ones, I think. The first is having too much to say, so that the words,
hurrying to escape, bear down and trample out the life of each other.
The second is when, having nothing to say, we are expected to fill a
void in the minds of our hearers. And I think the third, and most
formidable, is the necessity of following a speaker who is sure to say
all the things you meant to say, and better than you, so that we are
tempted to exclaim, with the old grammarian, "Hang these fellows, who
have said all our good things before us!"
Now the Fourth of July has several times been alluded to, and I believe
it is generally thought that on that anniversary the spirit of a certain
bird known to heraldic ornithologists--and I believe to them alone--as
the spread eagle, enters into every American's breast, and compels him,
whether he will or no, to pour forth a flood of national
self-laudation. This, I say, is the general superstition, and I hope
that a few words of mine may serve in some sort to correct it. I ask
you, if there is any other people who have confined their national
self-laudation to one day in the year. I may be allowed to make one
remark as a personal experience. Fortune had willed it that I should see
as many--perhaps more--cities and manners of men as Ulysses; and I have
observed one general fact, and that is, that the adjectival epithet
which is prefixt to all the virtues is invariably the epithet which
geographically describes the country that I am in. For instance, not to
take any real name, if I am in the kingdom of Lilliput, I hear of the
Lilliputian virtues. I hear courage, I hear common sense, and I hear
political wisdom called by that name. If I cross to the neighboring
Republic Blefusca--for since Swift's time it has become a Republic--I
hear all these virtues suddenly qualified as Blefuscan.
I am very glad to be able to thank Lord Coleridge for having, I believe
for the first time, coupled the name of the President of the United
States with that of her Majesty on an occasion like this. I was struck,
both in what he said, and in what our distinguished guest of the evening
said, with the frequent recurrence of an adjective which is
comparatively new--I mean the word "English-speaking." We continually
hear nowadays of the "English-speaking race," of the "English-speaking
population." I think this implies, not that we are to forget, not that
it would be well for us to forget, that national emulation and that
national pride which is implied in the words "Englishman" and "American,"
but the word implies that there are certain perennial and abiding
sympathies between all men of a common descent and a common language. I
am sure, my lord, that all you said with regard to the welcome which our
distinguished guest will receive in America is true. His eminent talents
as an orator, the dignified--I may say the illustrious--manner in which
he has sustained the traditions of that succession of great actors who,
from the time of Burbage to his own, have illustrated the English stage,
will be as highly appreciated there as here.
And I am sure that I may also say that the chief magistrate of England
will be welcomed by the bar of the United States, of which I am an
unworthy member, and perhaps will be all the more warmly welcomed that
he does not come among them to practise. He will find American law
administered--and I think he will agree with me in saying ably
administered--by judges who, I am sorry to say, sit without the
traditional wig of England. I have heard since I came here friends of
mine gravely lament this as something prophetic of the decay which was
sure to follow so serious an innovation. I answered with a little story
which I remember having heard from my father. He remembered the last
clergyman in New England who still continued to wear the wig. At first
it became a singularity and at last a monstrosity; and the good doctor
concluded to leave it off. But there was one poor woman among his
parishioners who lamented this sadly, and waylaying the clergyman as he
came out of church she said, "Oh, dear doctor, I have always listened to
your sermon with the greatest edification and comfort, but now that the
wig is gone all is gone." I have thought I have seen some signs of
encouragement in the faces of my English friends after I have consoled
them with this little story.
But I must not allow myself to indulge in any further remarks. There is
one virtue, I am sure, in after-dinner oratory, and that is brevity; and
as to that I am reminded of a story. The Lord Chief Justice has told you
what are the ingredients of after-dinner oratory. They are the joke, the
quotation, and the platitude; and the successful platitude, in my
judgment, requires a very high order of genius. I believe that I have
not given you a quotation, but I am reminded of something which I heard
when very young--the story of a Methodist clergyman in America. He was
preaching at a camp meeting, and he was preaching upon the miracle of
Joshua, and he began his sermon with this sentence: "My hearers, there
are three motions of the sun. The first is the straightforward or direct
motion of the sun; the second is the retrograde or backward motion of
the sun; and the third is the motion mentioned in our text--'the sun
stood still.'"
Now, gentlemen, I don't know whether you see the application of the
story--I hope you do. The after-dinner orator at first begins and goes
straight forward--that is the straightforward motion of the sun. Next he
goes back and begins to repeat himself--that is the backward motion of
the sun. At last he has the good sense to bring himself to the end, and
that is the motion mentioned in our text, as the sun stood still.
ENGLAND, MOTHER OF NATIONS
BY RALPH WALDO EMERSON
Mr. Chairman and Gentlemen:--It is pleasant to me to meet this great and
brilliant company, and doubly pleasant to see the faces of so many
distinguished persons on this platform. But I have known all these
persons already. When I was at home, they were as near to me as they are
to you. The arguments of the League and its leader are known to all
friends of free trade. The gaieties and genius, the political, the
social, the parietal wit of "Punch" go duly every fortnight to every boy
and girl in Boston and New York. Sir, when I came to sea, I found the
"History of Europe" on the ship's cabin table, the property of the
captain;--a sort of program or play-bill to tell the seafaring New
Englander what he shall find on landing here. And as for Dombey, sir,
there is no land where paper exists to print on, where it is not found;
no man who can read, that does not read it, and, if he can not, he finds
some charitable pair of eyes that can, and hears it.
But these things are not for me to say; these compliments tho true,
would better come from one who felt and understood these merits more. I
am not here to exchange civilities with you, but rather to speak on that
which I am sure interests these gentlemen more than their own praises;
of that which is good in holidays and working-days, the same in one
century and in another century. That which lures a solitary American in
the woods with the wish to see England, is the moral peculiarity of the
Saxon race,--its commanding sense of right and wrong,--the love and
devotion to that,--this is the imperial trait, which arms them with the
scepter of the globe. It is this which lies at the foundation of that
aristocratic character, which certainly wanders into strange vagaries,
so that its origin is often lost sight of, but which, if it should lose
this, would find itself paralyzed; and in trade, and in the mechanic's
shop, gives that honesty in performance, that thoroughness and solidity
of work, which is a national characteristic. This conscience is one
element, and the other is that loyal adhesion, that habit of friendship,
that homage of man to man, running through all classes,--the electing of
worthy persons to a certain fraternity, to acts of kindness and warm and
staunch support, from year to year, from youth to age,--which is alike
lovely and honorable to those who render and those who receive
it;--which stands in strong contrast with the superficial attachments of
other races, their excessive courtesy, and short-lived connection.
You will think me very pedantic, gentlemen, but holiday tho it be, I
have not the smallest interest in any holiday, except as it celebrates
real and not pretended joys; and I think it just, in this time of gloom
and commercial disaster, of affliction and beggary in these districts,
that on these very accounts I speak of, you should not fail to keep your
literary anniversary. I seem to hear you say that, for all that is come
and gone, yet we will not reduce by one chaplet or one oak-leaf the
braveries of our annual feast. For I must tell you, I was given to
understand in my childhood that the British island, from which my
forefathers came, was no lotus-garden, no paradise of serene sky and
roses and music and merriment all the year round, no, but a cold, foggy,
mournful country, where nothing grew well in the open air, but robust
men and virtuous women and these of a wonderful fiber and endurance;
that their best parts were slowly revealed; their virtues did not come
out until they quarrelled; they did not strike twelve the first time;
good lovers, good haters, and you could know little about them till you
had seen them long, and little good of them till you had seen them in
action; that in prosperity they were moody and dumpish, but in adversity
they were grand.
Is it not true, sir, that the wise ancients did not praise the ship
parting with flying colors from the port, but only that brave sailor
which came back with torn sheets and battered sides, stript of her
banners, but having ridden out the storm? And so, gentlemen, I feel in
regard to this aged England, with the possessions, honors and trophies,
and also with the infirmities of a thousand years gathering around her,
irretrievably committed as she now is to many old customs which can not
be suddenly changed; pressed upon by the transitions of trade, and new
and all incalculable modes, fabrics, arts, machines and competing
populations,--I see her not dispirited, not weak, but well remembering
that she has seen dark days before; indeed with a kind of instinct that
she sees a little better in a cloudy day, and that in storm of battle
and calamity, she has a secret vigor and a pulse like a cannon. I see
her in her old age, not decrepit, but young, and still daring to believe
in her power of endurance and expansion. Seeing this, I say, All hail!
mother of nations, mother of heroes, with strength still equal to the
time; still wise to entertain and swift to execute the policy which the
mind and heart of mankind require in the present hour, and thus only
hospitable to the foreigner, and truly a home to the thoughtful and
generous who are born in the soil. So be it! so be it! If it be not so,
if the courage of England goes with the chances of a commercial crisis,
I will go back to the capes of Massachusetts, and my own Indian stream,
and say to my countrymen, the old race are all gone and the elasticity
and hope of mankind must henceforth remain on the Alleghany ranges, or
nowhere.
THE AGE OF RESEARCH
BY WILLIAM EWART GLADSTONE
Mr. Chairman, Your Royal Highness, My Lords and Gentlemen:--I think no
question can be raised as to the just claims of literature to stand upon
the list of toasts at the Royal Academy, and the sentiment is one to
which, upon any one of the numerous occasions of my attendance at your
hospitable board, I have always listened with the greatest satisfaction
until the present day arrived, when I am bound to say that that
satisfaction is extremely qualified by the arrangement less felicitous,
I think, than any which preceded it that refers to me the duty of
returning thanks for Literature. However, obedience is the principle
upon which we must proceed, and I have at least the qualification for
discharging the duty you have been pleased to place in my hands--that no
one has a deeper or more profound sense of the vital importance of the
active and constant cultivation of letters as an essential condition of
real progress and of the happiness of mankind, and here every one at
once perceives that that sisterhood of which the poet spoke, whom you
have quoted, is a real sisterhood, for literature and art are alike the
votaries of beauty. Of these votaries I may thankfully say that as
regards art I trace around me no signs of decay, and none in that
estimation in which the Academy is held, unless to be sure, in the
circumstance of your poverty of choice of one to reply to this toast.
During the present century the artists of this country have gallantly
and nobly endeavored to maintain and to elevate their standard, and
have not perhaps in that great task always received that assistance
which could be desired from the public taste which prevails around them.
But no one can examine even superficially the works which adorn these
walls without perceiving that British art retains all its fertility of
invention, and this year as much as in any year that I can remember,
exhibits in the department of landscape, that fundamental condition of
all excellence, intimate and profound sympathy with nature.
As regards literature one who is now beginning at any rate to descend
the hill of life naturally looks backward as well as forward, and we
must be becoming conscious that the early part of this century has
witnessed in this and other countries what will be remembered in future
times as a splendid literary age. The elder among us have lived in the
lifetime of many great men who have passed to their rest--the younger
have heard them familiarly spoken of and still have their works in their
hands as I trust they will continue to be in the hands of all
generations. I am afraid we can not hope for literature--it would be
contrary to all the experience of former times were we to hope that it
should be equally sustained at that extraordinarily high level which
belongs, speaking roughly, to the first fifty years after the peace of
1815. That was a great period--a great period in England, a great period
in Germany, a great period in France, and a great period, too, in Italy.
As I have said, I think we can hardly hope that it should continue on a
perfect level at so high an elevation. Undoubtedly the cultivation of
literature will ever be dear to the people of this country; but we must
remember what is literature and what is not. In the first place we
should be all agreed that bookmaking is not literature. The business of
bookmaking I have no doubt may thrive and will be continued upon a
constantly extending scale from year to year. But that we may put aside.
For my own part if I am to look a little forward, what I anticipate for
the remainder of the century is an age not so much of literature
proper--not so much of great, permanent and splendid additions to those
works in which beauty is embodied as an essential condition of
production, but rather look forward to an age of research. This is an
age of great research--of great research in science, great research in
history--an age of research in all the branches of inquiry that throw
light upon the former condition whether of our race, or of the world
which it inhabits; and it may be hoped that, even if the remaining years
of the century be not so brilliant as some of its former periods, in the
production of works great in themselves, and immortal,--still they may
add largely to the knowledge of mankind; and if they make such additions
to the knowledge of mankind, they will be preparing the materials of a
new tone and of new splendors in the realm of literature. There is a
sunrise and sunset. There is a transition from the light of the sun to
the gentler light of the moon. There is a rest in nature which seems
necessary in all her great operations. And so with all the great
operations of the human mind. But do not let us despond if we seem to
see a diminished efficacy in the production of what is essentially and
immortally great. Our sun is hidden only for a moment. It is like the
day-star of Milton:--
"Which anon repairs his drooping head,
And tricks his beams, and with new spangled ore,
Flames in the forehead of the morning sky."
I rejoice in an occasion like this which draws the attention of the
world to topics which illustrate the union of art with literature and of
literature with science, because you have a hard race to run, you have a
severe competition against the attraction of external pursuits, whether
those pursuits take the form of business or pleasure. It is given to you
to teach lessons of the utmost importance to mankind, in maintaining the
principle that no progress can be real which is not equable, which is
not proportionate, which does not develop all the faculties belonging
to our nature. If a great increase of wealth in a country takes place,
and with that increase of wealth a powerful stimulus to the invention of
mere luxury, that, if it stands alone, is not, never can be, progress.
It is only that one-sided development which is but one side of
deformity. I hope we shall have no one-sided development. One mode of
avoiding it is to teach the doctrine of that sisterhood you have
asserted to-day, and confident I am that the good wishes you have
exprest on behalf of literature will be re-echoed in behalf of art
wherever men of letters are found.
ADDRESS OF WELCOME[1]
BY OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES
Brothers of the Association of the Alumni:--It is your misfortune and
mine that you must accept my services as your presiding officer of the
day in the place of your retiring president. I shall not be believed if
I say how unwillingly it is that for the second time I find myself in
this trying position; called upon to fill, as I best may, the place of
one whose presence and bearing, whose courtesy, whose dignity, whose
scholarship, whose standing among the distinguished children of the
university, fit him alike to guide your councils and to grace your
festivals. The name of Winthrop has been so long associated with the
State and with the college that to sit under his mild empire is like
resting beneath one of these wide-branching elms the breadth of whose
shade is only a measure of the hold its roots have taken in the soil. In
the midst of civil strife we, the children of this our common mother,
have come together in peace. And surely there never was a time when we
more needed a brief respite in some chosen place of refuge, some
unviolated sanctuary, from the cares and anxieties of our daily
existence than at this very hour. Our life has grown haggard with
excitement. The rattle of drums, the march of regiments, the gallop of
squadrons, the roar of artillery, seem to have been continually sounding
in our ears day and night, sleeping and waking, for two long years and
more. How few of us have not trembled and shuddered with fear over and
over again for those whom we love. Alas! how many that hear me have
mourned over the lost--lost to earthly sight, but immortal in our love
and their country's honor! We need a little breathing-space to rest from
our anxious thoughts, and, as we look back to the tranquil days we
passed in this still retreat, to dream of that future when in God's good
time, and after his wise purpose is fulfilled, the fair angel who has so
long left us shall lay her hand upon the leaping heart of this embattled
nation and whisper, "Peace! be still!"
Here of all places in the world we may best hope to find the peace we
seek for. It seems as if nothing were left undisturbed in New England
except here and there an old graveyard, and these dear old College
buildings, with the trees in which they are embowered. The old State
House is filled with those that sell oxen and sheep and doves, and the
changers of money. The Hancock house, the umbilical scar of the cord
that held our city to the past, is vanishing like a dimple from the
water.
But Massachusetts, venerable old Massachusetts, stands as firm as ever;
Hollis, this very year a centenarian, is waiting with its honest red
face in a glow of cordiality to welcome its hundredth set of inmates;
Holden Chapel, with the skulls of its Doric frieze and the unpunishable
cherub over its portals, looks serenely to the sunsets; Harvard, within
whose ancient walls we are gathered, and whose morning bell has murdered
sleep for so many generations of drowsy adolescents, is at its post,
ready to startle the new-fledged freshmen from their first uneasy
slumbers. All these venerable edifices stand as they did when we were
boys,--when our grandfathers were boys. Let not the rash hand of
innovation violate their sanctities, for the cement that knits these
walls is no vulgar mortar, but is tempered with associations and
memories which are stronger than the parts they bind together!
We meet on this auspicious morning forgetting all our lesser
differences. As we enter these consecrated precincts, the livery of our
special tribe in creed and in politics is taken from us at the door, and
we put on the court dress of our gracious Queen's own ordering, the
academic robe, such as we wore in those bygone years scattered along the
seven last decades. We are not forgetful of the honors which our fellow
students have won since they received their college "parts,"--their
orations, dissertations, disquisitions, colloquies, and Greek dialogs.
But to-day we have no rank; we are all first scholars. The hero in his
laurels sits next to the divine rustling in the dry garlands of his
doctorate. The poet in his crown of bays, the critic, in his wreath of
ivy, clasp each other's hands, members of the same happy family. This is
the birthday feast for every one of us whose forehead has been sprinkled
from the font inscribed "_Christo et Ecclesioe_." We have no badges but
our diplomas, no distinctions but our years of graduation. This is the
republic carried into the university; all of us are born equal into this
great fraternity.
Welcome, then, welcome, all of you, dear brothers, to this our joyous
meeting! We must, we will call it joyous, tho it comes with many
saddening thoughts. Our last triennial meeting was a festival in a
double sense, for the same day that brought us together at our family
gathering gave a new head to our ancient household of the university. As
I look to-day in vain for his stately presence and kindly smile, I am
reminded of the touching words spoken by an early president of the
university in the remembrance of a loss not unlike our own. It was at
the commencement exercises of the year 1678 that the Reverend President
Urian Oakes thus mourned for his friend Thomas Shepard, the minister of
Charlestown, an overseer of the college: "_Dici non potest quam me
perorantem, in comitiis, conspectus ejus, multo jucundissimus, recrearit
et refecerit. At non comparet hodie Shepardus in his comitiis; oculos
huc illuc torqueo; quocumque tamen inciderint, Platonem meum intanta
virorum illustrium frequentia requirunt; nusquam amicum et
pernecessarium meum in hac solenni panegyric, inter nosce Reverendos
Theologos, Academiae Curatores, reperire aut oculis vestigare possum_."
Almost two hundred years have gone by since these words were uttered by
the fourth president of the college, which I repeat as no unfitting
tribute to the memory of the twentieth, the rare and fully ripened
scholar who was suddenly ravished from us as some richly freighted
argosy that just reaches her harbor and sinks under a cloudless sky with
all her precious treasures.
But the great conflict through which we are passing has made sorrow too
frequent a guest for us to linger on an occasion like this over every
beloved name which the day recalls to our memory. Many of the children
whom our mother had trained to arts have given the freshness of their
youth or the strength of their manhood to arms. How strangely frequent
in our recent record is the sign interpreted by the words "_E vivis
cesserunt stelligeri!_" It seems as if the red war-planet had replaced
the peaceful star, and these pages blushed like a rubric with the long
list of the martyr-children of our university. I can not speak their
eulogy, for there are no phrases in my vocabulary fit to enshrine the
memory of the Christian warrior,--of him--
"Who, doomed to go in company with Pain
And Fear and Bloodshed, miserable train,
Turns his necessity to glorious gain--"
"Who, whether praise of him must walk the earth
Forever, and to noble deeds give birth,
Or he must fall, to sleep without his fame,
And leave a dead, unprofitable name,
Finds comfort in himself and in his cause;
And while the mortal mist is gathering, draws
His breath in confidence of Heaven's applause."
Yet again, O brothers! this is not the hour for sorrow. Month after
month until the months became years we have cried to those who stood
upon our walls: "Watchmen, what of the night?" They have answered again
and again, "The dawn is breaking,--it will soon be day." But the night
has gathered round us darker than before. At last--glory be to God in
the highest!--at last we ask no more tidings of the watchmen, for over
both horizons east and west bursts forth in one overflowing tide of
radiance the ruddy light of victory!
We have no parties here to-day, but is there one breast that does not
throb with joy as the banners of the conquering Republic follow her
retreating foes to the banks of the angry Potomac? Is there one heart
that does not thrill in answer to the drum-beat that rings all over the
world as the army of the west, on the morning of the nation's birth,
swarms over the silent, sullen earthworks of captured Vicksburg,--to the
reveille that calls up our Northern regiments this morning inside the
fatal abatis of Port Hudson? We are scholars, we are graduates, we are
alumni, we are a band of brothers, but beside all, above all, we are
American citizens. And now that hope dawns upon our land--nay, bursts
upon it in a flood of glory,--shall we not feel its splendors reflected
upon our peaceful gathering, peaceful in spite of those disturbances
which the strong hand of our citizen-soldiery has already strangled?
Welcome then, thrice welcome, scholarly soldiers who have fought for
your and our rights and honor! Welcome, soldierly scholars who are ready
to fight whenever your country calls for your services! Welcome, ye who
preach courage as well as meekness, remembering that the Prince of Peace
came also bringing a sword! Welcome, ye who make and who interpret the
statutes which are meant to guard our liberties in peace, but not to aid
our foes in war! Welcome, ye whose healing ministry soothes the anguish
of the suffering and the dying with every aid of art and the tender
accents of compassion! Welcome, ye who are training the generous youths
to whom our country looks as its future guardians! Welcome, ye quiet
scholars who in your lonely studies are unconsciously shaping the
thought which law shall forge into its shield and war shall wield as
its thunder-bolt!
And to you, Mr. President, called from one place of trust and honor to
rule over the concerns of this our ancient and venerated institution, to
you we offer our most cordial welcome with all our hopes and prayers for
your long and happy administration.
I give you, brothers, "The association of the Alumni"; the children of
our common mother recognize the man of her choice as their new father,
and would like to hear him address a few words to his numerous family.
FOOTNOTE:
[1] Delivered at an Alumni Dinner, Cambridge, July 16, 1863.
GOOD WILL TO AMERICA[2]
BY SIR WILLIAM HARCOURT
Gentlemen:--Small as are the pretensions which, on any account, I can
have to present myself to the attention of this remarkable assemblage, I
have had no hesitation in answering the call which is just been made
upon me by discharging a duty which is no less gratifying to me than I
know it will be agreeable to you--that of proposing that the thanks of
this meeting be offered to the chairman for his presidence over us
to-day. Every one who admires Mr. Garrison for the qualities on account
of which we have met to do him honor on this occasion, must feel that
there is a singular appropriateness in the selection of the person who
has presided here to-day. No one can fail to perceive a striking
similarity--I might almost say a real parallelism of greatness--in the
careers of these two eminent persons. Both are men who, by the great
qualities of their minds, and the uncompromising spirit of justice which
has animated them, have signally advanced the cause of truth and
vindicated the rights of humanity. Both have been fortunate enough in
the span of their own lifetime to have seen their efforts in the
promotion of great ends crowned by triumphs as great as they could have
desired, and far greater than they could have hoped. There is no cause
with which the name of Mr. Bright has been associated which has not
sooner or later won its way to victory.
I shall not go over the ground which has been so well dealt with by
those who have preceded me. But tho there have been many abler
interpreters of your wishes and aspirations to-day than I can hope to
be, may I be permitted to join my voice to those which have been raised
up in favor of the perpetual amity of England and America. It seems to
me that with nations, as well as with individuals, greatness of
character depends chiefly on the degree in which they are capable of
rising above thee low, narrow, paltry interests of the present, and of
looking forward with hope and with faith into the distance of a great
futurity. And where, I will ask, is the future of our race to be found?
I may extend the question--where is to be found the future of mankind?
Who that can forecast the fortunes of the ages to come will not
answer--it is in that great nation which has sprung from our loins,
which is flesh of our flesh and bone of our bone. The stratifications of
history are full of the skeletons of ruined kingdoms and of races that
are no more. Where are Assyria and Egypt, the civilization of Greece,
the universal dominion of Rome? They founded empires of conquest, which
have perished by the sword by which they rose. Is it to be with us as
with them? I hope not--I think not. But if the day of our decline should
arise, we shall at least have the consolation of knowing that we have
left behind us a race which shall perpetuate our name and reproduce our
greatness. Was there ever parent who had juster reason to be proud of
its offspring? Was there ever child that had more cause for gratitude to
its progenitor? From whom but us did America derive those institutions
of liberty, those instincts of government, that capacity of greatness,
which have made her what she is, and which will yet make her that which
she is destined to become? These are things which it becomes us both to
remember and to think upon. And, therefore, it is that, as our
distinguished guest, with innate modesty, has already said, this is not
a mere personal festivity--this is no occasional compliment. We see in
it a deeper and wider significance. We celebrate in it the union of two
nations. While I ask you to return your thanks to our chairman I think I
may venture also to ask of our guest a boon which he will not refuse us.
We have a great message to send, and we have here a messenger worthy to
bear it. I will ask Mr. Garrison to carry back to his home the prayer of
this assembly and of this nation that there may be forever and forever
peace and good will between England and America. For the good will of
America and England is nothing less than the evangel of liberty and of
peace. And who more worthy to preside over such a gospel than the
chairman to whom I ask you to return your thanks to-day? I beg to
propose that the thanks of the meeting be given to Mr. Bright.
FOOTNOTE:
[2] Speech at breakfast held in London in honor of Mr. Garrison, June
29, 1867.
THE QUALITIES THAT WIN
BY CHARLES SUMNER
Mr. President and Brothers of New England:--For the first time in my
life I have the good fortune to enjoy this famous anniversary festival.
Tho often honored by your most tempting invitation, and longing to
celebrate the day in this goodly company of which all have heard so
much, I could never excuse myself from duties in another place. If now I
yield to well-known attractions, and journey from Washington for my
first holiday during a protracted public service, it is because all was
enhanced by the appeal of your excellent president, to whom I am bound
by the friendship of many years in Boston, in New York, and in a foreign
land. It is much to be a brother of New England, but it is more to be a
friend, and this tie I have pleasure in confessing to-night.
It is with much doubt and humility that I venture to answer for the
Senate of the United States, and I believe the least I say on this head
will be the most prudent. But I shall be entirely safe in expressing my
doubt if there is a single Senator who would not be glad of a seat at
this generous banquet. What is the Senate? It is a component part of the
National Government. But we celebrate to-day more than any component
part of any government. We celebrate an epoch in the history of
mankind--not only never to be forgotten, but to grow in grandeur as
the world appreciates the elements of true greatness. Of mankind I
say--for the landing on Plymouth Rock, on December 22, 1620, marks the
origin of a new order of ages, which the whole human family will be
elevated. Then and there was the great beginning.