country in the paths of duty,—­he is ever the same meek, grand, self-sacrificing spirit.  Here he exhibited qualities not less worthy and heroic than those displayed on the broad and open theater of conflict, when the eyes of nations watched his every action.  Here in the calm repose of civil and domestic duties, and in the trying routine of incessant tasks, he lived a life as high as when, day by day, he marshalled and led his thin and wasting lines, and slept by night upon the field that was to be drenched again in blood upon the morrow.  And now he has vanished from us forever.  And is this all that is left of him—­this handful of dust beneath the marble stone?  No! the ages answer as they rise from the gulfs of time, where lie the wrecks of kingdoms and estates, holding up in their hands as their only trophies, the names of those who have wrought for man in the love and fear of God, and in love—­unfearing for their fellow-men.  No! the present answers, bending by his tomb.  No! the future answers as the breath of the morning fans its radiant brow, and its soul drinks in sweet inspirations from the lovely life of Lee.  No! methinks the very heavens echo, as melt into their depths the words of reverent love that voice the hearts of men to the tingling stars.

Come we then to-day in loyal love to sanctify our memories, to purify our hopes, to make strong all good intent by communion with the spirit of him who, being dead yet speaketh.  Come, child, in thy spotless innocence; come, woman, in thy purity; come, youth, in thy prime; come, manhood, in thy strength; come, age, in thy ripe wisdom; come, citizen; come, soldier; let us strew the roses and lilies of June around his tomb, for he, like them, exhaled in his life Nature’s beneficence, and the grave has consecrated that life and given it to us all; let us crown his tomb with the oak, the emblem of his strength, and with the laurel the emblem of his glory, and let these guns, whose voices he knew of old, awake the echoes of the mountains, that nature herself may join in his solemn requiem.  Come, for here he rests, and

    On this green bank, by this fair stream,
    We set to-day a votive stone,
    That memory may his deeds redeem? 
    When, like our sires, our sons are gone.

    —­JOHN WARWICK DANIEL, on the unveiling of Lee’s statue at
    Washington and Lee University, Lexington, Virginia, 1883.

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1.  Why should humor find a place in after-dinner speaking?

2.  Briefly give your impressions of any notable after-dinner address that you have heard.

3.  Briefly outline an imaginary occasion of any sort and give three subjects appropriate for addresses.

4.  Deliver one such address, not to exceed ten minutes in length.

5.  What proportion of emotional ideas do you find in the extracts given in this chapter?

6.  Humor was used in some of the foregoing addresses—­in which others would it have been inappropriate?