MY SPEECH
For some time I have had it in mind to make a speech. I don't know
what I would say nor where I could possibly find an audience, but, in
spite of all that, I feel that I'd like to try myself out on a
speech. I can't trace this feeling back to its source. It may have
started when I heard a good speech, somewhere, or, it may have
started when I heard a poor one. I can't recall. When I hear a good
speech I feel that I'd like to do as well; and, when I hear a poor
one, I feel that I'd like to do better. The only thing that is
settled, as yet, about this speech that I want to make is the
subject, and even that is not my own. It is just near enough my own,
however, to obviate the use of quotation-marks. The hardest part of
the task of writing or speaking is to gain credit for what some one
else has said or written, and still be able to omit quotation-marks.
That calls for both mental and ethical dexterity of a high order.
But to the speech. The subject is Dialectic Efficiency--without
quotation-marks, be it noted. The way of it is this: I have been
reading, or, rather, trying to read the masterly book by Doctor
Fletcher Durell, whose title is "Fundamental Sources of Efficiency."
This is one of the most recondite books that has come from the press
in a generation, and it is no reflection upon the book for me to say
that I have been trying to read it. It is so big, so deep, so high,
and so wide that I can only splash around in it a bit. But "the
water's fine." At any rate, I have been dipping into this book quite
a little, and that is how I came upon the caption of my speech. Of
course, I get the word "efficiency" from the title of the book, and,
besides, everybody uses that word nowadays. Then, the author of this
book has a chapter on "Dialectic," and so I combine these two words
and thus get rid of the quotation-marks.
And that certainly is an imposing subject for a speech. If it should
ever be printed on a programme, it would prove awe-inspiring. Next
to making a good speech, I'd like to be skilled in sleight-of-hand
affairs. I'd like to fish up a rabbit from the depths of an old
gentleman's silk tile, or extract a dozen eggs from a lady's
hand-bag, or transmute a canary into a goldfish. I'd like to see the
looks of wonder on the faces of the audience and hear them gasp. The
difficulty with such a subject as I have chosen, though, is to fill
the frame. I went into a shop in Paris once to make some small
purchase, expecting to find a great emporium, but, to my surprise,
found that all the goods were in the show-window. That's one trouble
with my subject--all the goods seem to be in the show-window. But,
I'll do the best I can with it, even if I am compelled to pilfer from
the pages of the book.
In the introduction of the speech I shall become expansive upon the
term _Dialectic_, and try to impress my hearers (if there are any)
with my thorough acquaintance with all things which the term
suggests. If I continue expatiating upon the word long enough they
may come to think that I actually coined the word, for I shall not
emphasize Doctor Durell especially--just enough to keep my soul
untarnished. In a review of this book one man translates the first
word "luck." I don't like his word and for two reasons: In the first
place, it is a short word, and everybody knows that long words are
better for speechmaking purposes. If he had used the word
"accidental" or "incidental" I'd think more of his translation and of
his review. I'm going to use my word as if Doctor Durell had said
_Incidental_.
So much for the introduction; now for the speech. From this point
forward I shall draw largely upon the book but shall so turn and
twist what the doctor says as to make it seem my own. With something
of a flourish, I shall tell how in the year 1856 a young chemist,
named Perkin, while trying to produce quinine synthetically, hit upon
the process of producing aniline dyes. His incidental discovery led
to the establishment of the artificial-dye industry, and we have here
an example of dialectic efficiency. This must impress my intelligent
and cultured auditors, and they will be wondering if I can produce
another illustration equally good. I can, of course, for this book
is rich in illustrations. I can see, as it were, the old fellow on
the third seat, who has been sitting there as stiff and straight as a
ramrod, limber up just a mite, and with my next point I hope to
induce him to lean forward an inch, at least, out of the
perpendicular.
Then I shall proceed to recount to them how Christopher Columbus, in
an effort to circumnavigate the globe and reach the eastern coast of
Asia, failed in this undertaking, but made a far greater achievement
in the discovery of America. If, at this point, the old man is
leaning forward two or three inches instead of one, I may ask, in
dramatic style, where we should all be to-day if Columbus had reached
Asia instead of America--in other words, if this principle of
dialectic efficiency had not been in full force. Just here, to give
opportunity for possible applause, I shall take the handkerchief from
my pocket with much deliberation, unfold it carefully, and wipe my
face and forehead as an evidence that dispensing second-hand thoughts
is a sweat-producing process.
Then, in a sort of sublimated frenzy, I shall fairly deluge them with
illustrations, telling how the establishment of rural mail-routes led
to improved roads and these, in turn, to consolidated schools and
better conditions of living in the country; how the potato-beetle,
which seems at first to be a scourge, was really a blessing in
disguise in that it set farmers to studying improved methods
resulting in largely increased crops, and how the scale has done a
like service for fruit-growers; how a friend of mine was drilling for
oil and found water instead, and now has an artesian well that
supplies water in great abundance, and how one Mr. Hellriegel, back
in 1886, made the incidental discovery that leguminous plants fixate
nitrogen, and, hence, our fields of clover, alfalfa, cow-peas, and
soybeans.
It will not seem out of place if I recall to them how the Revolution
gave us Washington, the Adamses, Hancock, Madison, Franklin,
Jefferson, and Hamilton; how slavery gave us Clay, Calhoun, and
Webster; and how the Civil War gave us Lincoln, Seward, Stanton,
Grant, Lee, Sherman, Sheridan, and "Stonewall" Jackson. If there
should, by chance, be any teachers present I'll probably enlarge upon
this historical phase of the subject if I can think of any other
illustrations. I shall certainly emphasize the fact that the
incidental phases of school work may prove to be more important than
the objects directly aimed at, that while the teacher is striving to
inculcate a knowledge of arithmetic she may be inculcating manhood
and womanhood, and that the by-products of her teaching may become
world-wide influences.
As a peroration, I shall expand upon the subject of pleasure as an
incidental of work--showing how the mere pleasure-seeker never finds
what he is seeking, but that the man who works is the one who finds
pleasure. I think I shall be able to find some apt quotation from
Emerson before the time for the speech comes around. If so, I shall
use it so as to take their minds off the fact that I am taking the
speech from Doctor Durell's book.