If there is one place more than another where second-hand opinions and platitudes are unwelcome it is in the after-dinner speech.  Whether you are toast-master or the last speaker to try to hold the waning crowd at midnight, be as original as you can.  How is it possible to summarize the qualities that go to make up the good after-dinner speech, when we remember the inimitable serious-drollery of Mark Twain, the sweet southern eloquence of Henry W. Grady, the funereal gravity of the humorous Charles Battell Loomis, the charm of Henry Van Dyke, the geniality of F. Hopkinson Smith, and the all-round delightfulness of Chauncey M. Depew?  America is literally rich in such gladsome speakers, who punctuate real sense with nonsense, and so make both effective.

Commemorative occasions, unveilings, commencements, dedications, eulogies, and all the train of special public gatherings, offer rare opportunities for the display of tact and good sense in handling occasion, theme, and audience.  When to be dignified and when colloquial, when to soar and when to ramble arm in arm with your hearers, when to flame and when to soothe, when to instruct and when to amuse—­in a word, the whole matter of APPROPRIATENESS must constantly be in mind lest you write your speech on water.

Finally, remember the beatitude:  Blessed is the man that maketh short speeches, for he shall be invited to speak again.

SELECTIONS FOR STUDY

    LAST DAYS OF THE CONFEDERACY

    (Extract)

The Rapidan suggests another scene to which allusion has often been made since the war, but which, as illustrative also of the spirit of both armies, I may be permitted to recall in this connection.  In the mellow twilight of an April day the two armies were holding their dress parades on the opposite hills bordering the river.  At the close of the parade a magnificent brass band of the Union army played with great spirit the patriotic airs, “Hail Columbia,” and “Yankee Doodle.”  Whereupon the Federal troops responded with a patriotic shout.  The same band then played the soul-stirring strains of “Dixie,” to which a mighty response came from ten thousand Southern troops.  A few moments later, when the stars had come out as witnesses and when all nature was in harmony, there came from the same band the old melody, “Home, Sweet Home.”  As its familiar and pathetic notes rolled over the water and thrilled through the spirits of the soldiers, the hills reverberated with a thundering response from the united voices of both armies.  What was there in this old, old music, to so touch the chords of sympathy, so thrill the spirits and cause the frames of brave men to tremble with emotion?  It was the thought of home.  To thousands, doubtless, it was the thought of that Eternal Home to which the next battle might be the gateway.  To thousands of others it was the thought of their dear earthly homes, where loved ones at that twilight hour were bowing round the family altar, and asking God’s care over the absent soldier boy.

    —­GENERAL J.B.  GORDON, C.S.A.