The Speech-Making Season

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THE SPEECH-MAKING SEASON.

There have been comparatively few public meetings, during the months that are past. People were not in a humor for oratory and lecturing, and all the Ciceros¹ and Sheridans² were compelled to remain mute and inglorious. Somehow it seemed better to the people to stay at home, and set their brains to work at contriving how to make both ends meet than to bother themselves with abstractions. And as the people are pretty sensible in the main they followed out this inward conviction, and didn’tdid'nt​ go to listen to the Sheridans and the Ciceros.

But the season has now arrived when eloquence will assert its prerogative—when intellect will demand the homage due it—when the elders will speak as having authority and all the people will cry Amen!

For these May Anniversaries are never failures in this neighborhood. Their getters-up always rely, and with perfect safety, upon crowded houses and immense applause. However thread-bare may be the topics on which they expatiate and in whatsoever manner they may treat them, they are sure of respectful attention and substantial evidences of the interest taken in their schemes. The “Anniversary Season” is not to be lightly spoken of.

We are rather curious to see how the stricture now prevailing and that has prevailed in the money-market will affect the various benevolent and religious societies and organizations. That their receipts will be diminished in some degree seems to be pretty certain. But we imagine that the deficit will hardly be as large as many anticipate. The great bulk of the moral and religious class who sustain these associations are the very people who necessarily must have been least affected by the “crisis” and its consequences. Many of them are country people well-to-do, sober, staid farmers, old ladies with comfortable jointures, people well-off in every way and who take the liveliest interest in these extensive charities—make hobbies of them in short. Probably some of the minor and younger societies will be killed off by the pressure, but the long-established ones will receive only a temporary check for the want of the material aid.

While the anniversaries last, New York is a Mecca to the faithful from the interior of the State and from New England. They come trooping up in all directions and pervade the streets and the public conveyances. Here one sees a slim, lank gentleman, with a suit of black, evidently made by a country tailor, and wearing a white neck-tie and a weed on his hat. He is probably a country clergyman, come up to “hold forth” among the Metropolitan speakers. There you catch a glimpse of a stout, ruddy old farmer, with his wife and plump and comfortable daughters, making his way, umbrella in hand, toward the Bible or Tract Societies’ gatherings. He is, from his appearance, a farmer of the old Dutch stock, hailing from some of the counties up along the Hudson. Then again you may chance to catch a glimpse of the broad brimmed hat and drab-colored garments of a “Friend.” There is no difficulty in surmising whither he is bound. Wherever Lucretia Mott³ and Wendell Phillips⁴ hold forth, there you may see these placid faces, yet determined too, offering sometimes a curious contrast to the fiery language that falls seething from the oratorical platform. Perhaps—for the breeches-movement is not dead yet—you may chance to get a sight of brave little Lucy Stone⁵—she don’t wear the Bloomer dress now—making the best of her way, with her husband (a meek man named Blackwell) in tow, toward some queer gathering of Woman’s Rights people and Garrison abolitionists and spiritualists all mixed up together. Lucy is a type-woman and will “take her time.”

In our day we have been close attendants at these May anniversaries, and we have been often struck with the real, live earnestness that pervades both speakers and auditors. Undoubtedly there is a great deal of telescopic benevolence and Borioboola Gha⁶ charity, and religious buncombe mixed up with the good that is in them, but they are nevertheless good. The work that they do is a great work and must be done. We should remember that the speech-making season comes but once a year while the machinery of benevolence is going on rapidly but noiselessly during all the twelve-month. Some of them are grand in their workings and results—many are useful. It is assuming a very superficial view of the matter to say that the money thus bestowed by the people is all wasted. None but the race of hopelessly shallow sneerers talk such nonsense. The Anniversaries with all their curious features, their long-winded speeches, their elaborate reports, the heterogeneous audiences that they get together, are an Institution and therefore to be respected.

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