2ya iitiui't«ffi>j i{^!i"g')'-'.-- iaiiiiiMiiw»ii»iiiniiiiii>iiiwiiiiiiiiniiiTfiiiaiiHliii EXTEMPORE SPEECH ACQUIRE AND PRACTICE IT. Instructor in the National School of Elocution and Oratory. PHILADELPHIA: National School of Elocution and Oratory, 1416 and 1418 Chestnut Street. 1S83. Kntered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1883, by the National School of Elocution and Oratoky, In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. Vranklin Printing Housb^ 321 Chestnut Street, Phil'a. LIIiRARY UNIVERSITY OF CAIJFORNU SANTA BARBARA PREFACE. The following pages are the result of considerable observation and experience. Fifteen years ago the writer published a small volume entitled " Oratory ; Sacred and Secular," in which the same general views were set forth, though more slightly and crudely ex- pressed. In this work tlie recognized defects of that earlier effort are supplied ; and it is believed that all persons who have natural adaptation to public speech will here find all necessary directions to guide them by the shortest and surest road to success. It is not necessary or even expedient that a book which teaches the mode of eloquence should itself be eloquent. We may watch, admire, and describe the flight of an eagle while standing on the firm ground quite as well as if flying in the air beside him. No effort, therefore, has been made to imitate those grand bursts of feeling or lofty flights of imagination in Avhich the popular orator may indulge ; but we have sought to give such directions about practical details as may be useful to the highest genius, while the broad path toward that kind of excellence most in 111 IV PREFACE. Iiarniony with the sjK^aker's own faculties is clearly marked out. The writer is firmly convinced that more than nine- tenths of those who have any fair degree of ability to speak in public will succeed best in the mode laid down in the following pages; that is, by thorough preparation and arrangement of thought, combined with spontaneous selection of words in the moment of discourse. Reasons will be given for considering this the most natural, logical, impassioned, and effective mode of dis- course; indeed, the superior excellence of extempore speech is now generally conceded and will require little argument; but it is more important to encourage the beginner by showing him just how to acquire and practice fluent, accurate, and impressive off-hand speech in public, with as little embarrassment or fear as if every word were Avritten out and in plain sight. This is the esj)ecial olyect of the following pages. Table of Contents, PART I. Preliminary Considerations: PAGE Chapter I. Can Eloquence he Taught ? .... 9 " II. The Four Methods of Public Speech— Their Advantages and Disadvantages . . 15 " III. Lessons from the Experience of Eminent Orators 31 '* IV. An Embryo Speech, with Models of very Simple Plans . . . . . . .44 " V. Initial Fear, and How to Overcome it . .60 " VI. Utility of Debating Societies . . . .65 PART II. Preparation of the Speaker: Chapter I. Unfortunates who never can Extemporize . 73 II. Thought and Emotion 87 III. Language 101 IV. Imagination 109 V. Voice and Gesture "114 " VI. Confidence 125 VII. Peculiarities belonging to the Various Fields of Oratory 135 V VI TABLE OF CONTEVTS. PART III. Plan and Delivery of the Speech : PAQR Chapter I. The Pen and the Tongue 145 " II. Subject and Object 148 " III. Tbouglit-gathering 159 " IV. Constructing a Plan 166 " V. How Sliall the Written Plan be Used ? . .177 " VI. The First Moment of Speech . . . .187 " VII. The Introduction 196 " VIII. Progress of the Speech -207 " IX. Three Plans of Great Addresses . . .217 " X. Illustrations, Pathos, Humor .... 243 " XI. The Orator's Logic 248 •' XII. After the Speech 262 PART I. Preliminary Considerations. CHAPTER I. Can Eloquence be Taught? There is a widespread opinion that all study of the mode of oratory is unmanly, and leads to the substitu- tion of artifice and adornment for simplicity and power. '* Let a man have something important to say," it is argued, " and he need not waste his time in trying to find how to say it." So general is this sentiment, that a ministerial acquaintance of the writer's was recently very careful to conceal from his congregation the fact that he was taking a series of lessons in elocution, lest his in- fluence should be diminished. We may admit that the popular prejudice against the study of eloquence is not without a mixture of reason. It is possible to foster a spurious kind of oratory, which shall be far inferior to the rudest genuine speech. But on the other hand, it is safe to maintain that every rational power man possesses can be strengthened by judicious cultivation, without in the least impairing its quality. There is no trick in true oratory — no secret magic by whi(;h a weak-minded man can become the leader of others stronger and wiser than himself. The great prizes of eloquence cannot Ixi placal in the hands of the ignorant or slothful. But so surely as a raw ap- 10 EXTEMPORE SPEECH. prentice can be transformed into a skillful workman, any person possessed of ordinary faculties, who will pay the price in labor, can be made master of the art of ready and forcible public utterance. The methods of oratorical cultivation presented in this volume are not based upon mere theory. They have been tested in hundreds of instances, and their results are beyond question. A carpenter will assert with perfect assurance, " I guarantee to take an ordinary young man, who will place himself in my hands for a reasonable time, and turn him out a thorough mechanic, master of every part of his trade." The effects of training are as marvelous and as certain in the fields of eloquence. But this training must necessarily combine practice with theory. To study about great orators and observe their works is not sufficient. Here again, Ave may take a lesson from the mode in which an apprentice is trained. The master architect does not take his young men to gaze upon finished buildings, and expect them, from mere admiration and architectural fervor, to construct similar works. He would soon find that not one in a hundred had the " mechanical genius " for such an easy triumph. But he takes them into the shop, where work is in progress, places before them some simple task, and from that leads them on, step by step, to more difficult achievements. They learn how to make the separate parts of a house, and aftenvard how to fit those parts CAN ELOQUENCE BE TAUGHT? 11 into a complete work. Under this rational mode of in- struction the great majority master the whole business placed before them, and the failures are rare exceptions. If similar success does not attend oratorical students, the explanation must be sought, not in the nature of oratory, but in wrong methods of training. Merely reading Cicero and Demosthenes, ev'en in their original tongues, declaiming choice selections, or listening to great orators, will not make any one eloquent, unless indeed he pos- sesses that rare natural genius which rises above all rules and sweeps away every obstacle. But it must be remembered that there are many de- grees of eloquence. The popular conception is somewhat unjust in refusing recognition to those who possess this power in only a fair degree. It is not possible by any mode of training to produce many orators of the very highest type. Such will ever be rare for the same reason that there are but few great poets, generals, or statesmen. But proper education in the art of speech should enable a man to give full, free, and adequate expression to what- ever thoughts and feelings he may possess. It may go further, and make him more fruitful in thought, and more intense in feeling, than he could have been in the absence of such education, and he may thus become fairly entitled to the rewards of eloquence without, however, reaching the level of the few great world-orators. The distinction between a good degree of practical, working 12 EXTEMPORE SPEECH. eloquence, which may be successfully taught to the mass of students, and the very highest development of the same faculty, should always be kept in mind. Even the mightiest genius may be regulated, strengthened, and directed by culture; while moderate talents may, by similar culture, reach a very serviceable degree of effi- ciency and power. While these considerations appear almost self-evident, they are not unnecessary. On listening to a true orator — one who, w^ithout hesitation, pours forth a stream of well-chosen words, arid develops a difficult subject in a clear and masterly manner — we are apt to receive an impression like that made by the operation of a law of nature, or an unerring animal instinct. Does the orator acquire eloquence as the bee learns to construct honey- cells ? There is, no doubt, a foundation for eloquence in natural ability, but the analogy is far more close with the human builder, who sees mentally the image of the house he wishes to construct, fits the various timbers and other materials into their places, and works intelligently until his conception is realized. To Jack Cade and his fellows the mysteries of reading and writing " came by nature ;" but experience has shown that this much of nature can be developed in the great majority of American children. In the moderate and reasonable meaning of the term, eloquence can be made almost as general as the elements of a common-school education. The child that CAN ELOQUENCE BE TAUGHT? 13 masters the art of reading, really makes a greater con- quest over difficulties, than the average well-educated youth needs to add to the stores he already possesses, in order to attain a good degree of oratorical power. There are, indeed, a few indispensable rajuisites which will be enumerated in another chapter ; but the want of these debars a small minority only, and their absence is easily recognized. For all others the path of success lies open. Patient practice in the use of the pen as a servant but not as a master, the study of good models, and the laborious mastery in detail of the separate elements of oratory, will not fail of abundant fruit. There are two classes of works with which this treatise should not be confounded. It aims to occupy an almost vacant place between manuals of elocution on the one hand, and works of technical instruction in the various oratorical professions, on the other. Both of these classes of books are very Uooful, and teach indirectly many of the elements of true eloquence. Elocution deals with voice and gesture, which are prime elements in oratory ; and although it is popularly supposal to be applicable only to reading and recitation, it is equally serviceable in off-hand speech. Works of the second class give rules for preaching, debating, pleading at the bar, teaching, and all other professions which involve public speech. They show how various kinds of discourses may be con- structed, but have few practical directions about tlie 14 EXTKMJ^OltE .si'KKCH. luotle of delivery, or that grand and noble work — ^the development of the oratorical power itself. This book is written from the stan(ljx)int of the student who wishes to wield the golden sceptre of eloquence and is willing to put forth all reasonable efforts to that end. It will aim to guide him into the right path ; show him what helps are available, and what discipline is necessary ; encourage him in overcoming difficulties, and stimulate him to seek the very highest excellence within the com- pass of his faculties. CHAPTER II. The Four Methods of Public Speech — Their Advantages and Disadvantages. " What shall I do ?" exclaims the young student who expects soon to face public audiences. " Shall I write out what I have to say, polish it as highly as possible, and then utter this finished product ? Or must I take the risk of being able to say nothing at all, in hope of gaining the ease and naturalness of spontaneous speech ?" It must be admitted that the first course indicated above has many advantages, and seems in harmony with the marked tendency of civilization toward division of labor. It is hard to perform several different operations at the same moment. Look how heavily the extempore speaker is burdened. He must think of his subject ; arranga his ideas, sentences, and words ; remember quo- tations ; originate proper tones and gestures ; and keep his attention closely fixed upon his audience. All this he must do with the utmost promptness and regularity, or incur a fearful penalty — that of embarrassment and failure. Few men have the courage to stand long Ijefore an audience, Av^aiting for a missing word or idea. To avoid this danger the mind of an extempore speaker must be accustomed to work with the rapidity and pre- ' 15 16 EXTEMPORE SPEECH. cision of a printing-press ; otherwise, the appalling danger of failure and ridicule will constantly stare him in the face. It is not wonderful that such perils have made many speakers perpetual slaves of the pen. But it may be noted that the public reader has an equal number of things to do at the same moment. He must look on the manuscript and recognize the words — a complicated process, which practice has made easy, but which does greatly distract attention. The whole dis- course must be brought into mind as really as if extem- porized with the difference that now, instead of arising from within, it is brought back from without — a much more difficult achievement. Tones and gestures are also increasingly difficult. The reader will usually wish to give some attention to the audience, which, with manuscript before him, will be far from easy. After he has done his best his hearers will think, " This man is reading, not speaking — giving us what he thought yesterday or last week, not what he is thinking now." Possibly this will not diminish their pleasure, but the sentiment needs to be recognized. The resource of memorizing the discourse after it has been prepared relieves the eye and lessens the physical distraction, but it throws an additional and very heavy burden upon the mind, and introduces new embarrass- ments peculiar to itself. The advice enforced in these pages will be : " Extem- FOUR METHODS OF SPEECH. 17 porize; take the risk; fail, if necessary " though precau- tions will be given making failure well nigh impossible ; " but in all cases when you speak to the people with the object of convincing or persuading, let it be seen that you speak directly the thoughts and feelings of that very moment." The two extremes of verbal communication between men are letters, books, or essays, on the one side, and desultory talk on the other. In the one, the pen is everything; in the other, it is not employed at all. Neither mode of address constitutes oratory, but the whole field of this art lies between them. There are four principal methods of discourse dis- tinguished in reference to the mode of delivery, which we may name as follows : 1. Reading. 2. Recitation. 3. Extemporizing. 4. The composite method. Of these, the first two have the great advantage of allowing the speaker as much time as may be necessary for the arrangement of the speech down to the minutest detail. Words may be selected with the nicest care, and if the first effort is not satisfactory the speech may be written again and again, until the writer's full power has been utilized. After delivery, the manuscript is at once available for publication or preservation. The first 18 EXTEMPORE SPEECH. niethcxl gives the orator something to lean upon. Should he become embarrassed, he can fix his attention closely upon his writing until he recovers. Should his attention be distractal, and the thread of discourse be broken, it can be taken up again at any point. In recitation more declamatory fervor is possible than in reading. Gesticulation is less restrained. The speaker need not be confinal within the narrow limits of a circle, the centre of which is his manuscript, and the radius the distance at which he can read it. As an offset, there is the eifort, in some cases very con- siderable, of memorizing ; the variable power of memory in different states of health ; and the possibility of alto- gether forgetting the prepared words. It must also be admitted that few men can declaim well. Some have mastered the difficult art, and have won laurels in this way ; but their number, especially in the modern world, is comparatively small. Extemporizing does not exclude the most exhaustive study of a subject. It is easier, indeed, to write upon a subject only partially understood, than to address an audience directly upon the same topic. Neither does this method exclude the most careful pre-arrangement of the thoughts enunciated. The trained speaker will find it comparatively easy to make a plan at a moment's notice which will serve as a basis for discourse ; but he will usually be provided with a plan long before he FOUR METHODS OF SPEECH. 19 Ixigins to speak. He will aim to understand his subject, make the best arrangement of it in his power, select what is most fitting for his purpose, and then, face to face with his audience, will give them, in a manly way, the outflowing of his mind and heart. It is in this sense alone that the word " extempore " will be used in this volume. We maintain that, so far from being the refuge of ignorance and sloth, extempore speech is often the vehicle of the widest culture and the most extensive knowledge. The increased attention paid to extempore speech within a few years indicates a hopeful improvement of taste among professional men. The majority of the people have always preferred it. They do not greatly desire of pulpit, platform, or bar, the verbal elaboration favored by written speech ; but fervent manner, earnest conviction, and directness are highly prized. Readers and reciters imitate, as far as they can, the manner of spontaneous speech. It is well to remember that this tribute of imitation is never paid by the superior to the inferior. One argument in favor of extempore delivery has never received due consideration : it is far more healthful than other forms of address. In the case of men who speak only at long intervals, this consideration may not l)e weighty ; but to others, it involves years of added usefulness, or even life itself. 20 EXTEMPORE SPEECH, This superior healthfulncss has often been observed, but what is its source ? The answer will go far to show A\ hy true extempore speecii is more |)crsuasive and emo- tional than any other variety. In chemistry, a law of affinity has long been recognized, according to which substances just set free from combination have greater energy, and are more ready to form new combinations, than ever afterward. In the same way, voice and gesture readily respond to nascent emotion ; that is, to emotion aroused for the first time. Every speaker who utters the thought of the moment, if not fettered by bad habits, or paralyzed by fear, will exhibit a perjjetual change of position, a variety of muscular movement, and a play of expression which he can never afterward reproduce. The pitch, rate, and force of the voice are controlled in the same effective and almost automatic manner. An ordinary extemporizer, when thoroughly aroused, will employ as great a variety of tones and gestures as a highly trained elocutionist in his most elaborate recita- tions. Nothing is asserted as to the skill of the combi- nations, the melody of the voice, or the grace of the action ; though even in these the advantage is not always on the side of the elocutionist. But in distributing the effort among all the organs, and in giving that alternate rest and action upon which health and strength depend, the elocutionist may strive in vain to equal the model set Lim by a go(xl extempore speech. In Western and seaside FOUR METHODS OF SPEECH. 21 camp-meetings, speakers who have never spent an hour in vocal drill will often address thousands of people in the open air with an energy of voice and manner that would, if employed over a manuscript by any other than the most accomplished elocutionist, speedily bring all efforts and the speaker himself to an end. But he easily endures the strain because there is that continual change which is the equivalent of rest. Notice some thoroughly ex- cited speaker, trained only in the school of experience — possibly a mere demagogue or popular agitator — at his work. A word shot forth almost as piercing as a steam whistle is followed by a sentence far down the scale, and when emotion demands the same high key again, the organs in that position are fresh for a new ear-piercing eif(jrt. There is equal variation in the rate of speech. The Avhole body joins in the expression of emotion, with- out the slightest conscious eifort, impelled only by the aroused nervous energy which seeks that mode of dis- charge. When the effort ends, the man is weary, indeed ; but with a Aveariness distributed over the whole body, and without a trace of that exhaustion of brain, throat, or the upper part of the lungs, which has sent many manuscript speakers — clergymen, especially — to untimely graves. What a difference there is between the preacher who languidly reads his manuscript for twenty-five minutes to a hundred people, and closes the mighty effort with aching head, quivering nerves, and exhausted throat, and 22 EXTKMroin: .speech. the typical camp-meeting orator ! The latter works hard, addressing thousands of people for an hour and a half or two hours ; but as the stamping foot, the tense arm, the nodding head, the fully expanded lungs, and the swaying Ixxly have all taken part, the blood and nervous energy have been sent in due proportion to every organ, and there is no want of balance. The man can repeat the same performances the next day, and continue it, as many itinerants have done, for months together. Similar examples of endurance have often been given in heated political canvasses by orators of the very highest emi- nence, as well as by others unknown to fame. Difference of cultivation or of earnestness will not suffice to ex- ])Iain the contrast between the two classes of speakers. The chemical analogy is instructive, and goes far to account for the observed differences. When thought passes out of the mist and shadow of general concep- tions into the definite form of words, it has immeasurably greater power to arouse and agitate the mind in which this transformation is made, than it can have when the same words are merely recalled in memory or read from a sheet of paper. When the whole process of expression takes place at once: — the mental glance over the subject ; the coinage of thoughts into words and sentences ; the utterance of the words as they rise to the lips ; the selec- tion of key, inflection, emphasis, gesture: — the man must have a very cold nature, or his theme be very dull, if. FOUR METHODS OF SPEECH. V3 with a sympathizing audience before him, the tides of emotion do not begin to swell. But notice how other modes of delivery squander this wealth of emotion. The writer carefully elaborates his language. He is perfectly calm, or if there is any excitement, it is purely intel- lectual, and the quickened flow of blood is directed only to the brain. AVhen the ardor of composition subsides, and he reviews his pages, the fire seems to have died out of them. While memorizing, or making himself familiar enough wath wdiat he has written to read it with eifect, he may recall some of the first ardor, but only to have it again subside. When at last he stands up to speak, his production is a thrice-told tale. In but few cases will he feel the full inspiration of his message. If he recites, the eifort of memory distracts his attention, and he is probably reading from a page of manuscript pre- sented by his mental vision. If he reads directly, he must take a position to see his paper, and at least part of the time keep his eye fixed upon it. The address is felt to come, notwithstanding all the artifice he can employ, at least as much from the paper as from the man. The most profound culture in reading and decla- mation only suffices to bring back part of the emotion with which the genuine extemporizer starts. As bearing upon the subject of the healthfulness of extempore speech, a reference to the ^Titer's own ex- perience may not be improper. Severe and exceptional 24 EXTEMPORE SPEECH. hardship in the civil war led to a complete break-down in health. The hope of any kind of active work, or even of many months of life, seemed very slight. The question was not so much how to speak best, as how to speak at all. Fortunately, a long series of daily lectures, involving no great intellectual effort, proved that mere talking was not necessarily hurtful. Some elocutionary hints at the right time were also of great value. When the pulpit was entered, greater difficulty arose. A few trials of memorized preaching produced alarming nervous exhaustion. Reading was equally deleterious to throat and voice. One path alone seemed open ; and entering upon that with confidence, which eighteen years of ex- perience has only deepened, the writer found that ex- tempore speech was, for him, probably the most healthful of all forms of exercise. It is not likely that one-third of this terra of work would have been secured by any other kind of address. Another important advantage is the saving of time afforded by this mode of speech. The hours otherwise ^\asted in word-elaboration may be more usefully em- j)loyed in general studies. The field for an orator's im- ])rovement is boundless ; but if obliged to fully write a large number of discourses, he must either work very rapidly or very perseveringly to enter far into that field. But if less preparation is given to individual speeches, more time will be available for the improvement of the Forr. METHODS OF SPEECH. 25 speaker. Or if lie uses the same length of preparation for each discourse in the extempore mode, he can collect and classify a far gi*eater amount of material, and the mental clement will thus gain far more than the merely verbal loses. Only the fourth or composite method of discourse remains for our consideration. At first glance, it seems to combine the advantages of all other methods, and for many minds it possesses great attraction. In it the less important parts of the speech are given off-hand, while passages of especial brilliuncy or power are written fully, and either read or recital. Added variety may be given by reading some of these, and declaiming others from memory. A very brilliant and showy discourse may thus be constructed. But the difficulties are also very great. Full success requires a rare combination of de- sirable qualities. A good verbal memory, the power of composing effective fragments, and of declaiming or reading them well, are not often joined to all the qualities that make a ready and impressive extemporizer. For this reason it usually follows that in composite discourses one of the elements so greatly predominates as to dwarf the others. A manuscript discourse in which an extem- pore remark or two is interpolated must be classed with written discourses. Neither does extemporizing lose its special character, though some scattered quotations be read or repeated from mcmoi-y. To pick up a book, in 26 EXTK.MPOJJH SI'KECH. the midst of a speech, and read a theme or argument, or the statement of another's position, does not make the discourse composite in character, unless such reading be the principal i)art of it. An elo(juent speaker on one occasion occupied more than half his time, and produced far more than half his eiFect, by reciting poems of the author ^\•ho was the nominal subject of his lecture. The performance ^\"ould have been more appropriately styled, " Recitations from the poems of ." The few running comments introduced did not entitle it to be classed as an original production, because they A\ere obviously not its governing motive. How shall the advantages of extemporizing be secural, while avoiding its dangers ? No commendation can be given to those who simply talk to an audience, giving forth only what may happen to be in mind at the moment of delivery. The most pedantic writing and lifeless reading would, as a habit, be preferable to such reckless- ness. Unwritten speech does not preclude the fullest preparation. The plans advocatcxl in this volume will enable a speaker to gather materials as widely, arrange them as systematically, and hold them as firmly in hand, as if everj' word was written ; while at the same time he may have all the freedom and play of thought, the rush of passion, and the energy of delivery that comes in the happiest moment of outgushing words. But those who are unwillinof to labor mav as well lav down the book. FOUR METHODS OF SPEECH. 27 We do not profess to teach a process of labor-saving, though much labor will be changed from mechanical to intellectual, and after long experience the total saving may be great. But in the first stages those who have been accustomed to write in full will find that the change involves an increase, rather than a dl:uinution, of work. On all ordinary occasions a good speech must result from a previous ingathering of materials — the formation of a mental treasury in connection with a special subject. The speaker Avorks for days or weeks in collecting from all sources and arranging in the happiest manner that which his hearers are to receive in an hour with no other labor than that of listening. The great advantage of writing is supposed to lie in this preparation. To-day an orator may write everything he knows about a sub- ject ; to-morrow, by means of reading, conversation, or further thought, he may have more ideas to record ; and he may thus continue to widen and record his knowledge, until his time, or the subject itself, is exhausted. Then he may revise, select wdiat is most appropriate, refine and polish his language, and finally come before an audience confident that he holds in his hand the very best that h3 can give them. But, alas ! it is a:i essay, or treatise, rather than a speech ! So far as his materials are suit- able for a speech, they can be gathered and used as readily in an extempore discourse. The use of the jien as an -S EXTEMPOIJE Sl'EECH. instrument of aeouniulation and record is not to be despised, l^ut in its final torni, not a line of the most nuLssive and complicated speech that the mind of man can i)rotluce need be written. Enriched by garnered thoughts — knowing where to begin and where to close — seeing a clear outline of the n\ hole subject in mental vision — the trainal speaker may possess every faculty, and use every resource of speech, in as serene confidence as if every word was fixed in memory or on manuscript. Those who have only one speech to deliver, and that for show rather than service, will hardly credit these assertions. Graduating orations will probably always be recited from memory. In such cases the matter is of lit- tle value, while the form is everything. So well is this relation of fitness understood, that in serious address it is a severe condemnation to say, "lie declaims just like a school-boy," or " That is sophomoric." The line of appropriateness may be suggested as follows : When the sole aim is to inform or please, or when an address is submitted for criticism, those who have the needed ability may very well read or recite. But when convic- tion or persuasion is sought, when public opinion or con- duct is to be mfluenced, the indescribable but most j)otent charm of sincere, earnest, spontaneous words will ever prove most effective. No leader of a great, popu- lar movement ever trusted to manuscript appeals, and but two or three of such leaders memorized their ora- FOUR METHODS OF SPEECH. 29 tions. These methods may well be reserved for the oratory of ornament and show. May a word of advice be hazarded to those who, in spite of all these considerations, prefer to rely upon manuscript or memory ? Be honest about it ! Those modes of delivery have advantages when their resources are fully mastered. Do not seek credit for what you do not possess, but stand firmly on your o^vn ground and make the most of it. If you recite, memorize perfectly and employ the most effective elocutionary devices. Do not hesitate to study the manner of good actors, for your recitations and theirs must have much in common. If you read, put the paper, not where it will be best hidden, but where it will do you the most good, and read as well as you. can. Thoroughly good reading is far more interesting and attractive than reading which is a bad imitation — there are no good imitations — of spon- taneous speech. Do not mark in your manuscript " Here become pathetic ;" or at another place, " Here show surprise and indignation." Reading is essentially quiet in its character, appealing to intellect and gentle feeling rather than stormy passion. You will tlius realize all the success that is possible for you in the method you have chosen, and escape such well-grounded sarcasm as that of Sydney Smith, who thus describes a style of preaching common in his day : " Discourses have insensibly d^vindIcd from speaking 30 EXTEMPORE SPEECH. to reading:, a practice Avhicli is of itself sufficient to Stifle every germ of eloquence. It is only by the fresh feelings of the heart that mankind can be very power- fully affectal. "What can be more ludicrous than an orator delivering stale indignation, and fer\-or a Aveek old ; turning over ^hole pages of violent passions, writ- ten out in goodly text ; reading the tropes and apostro- phes into which he is hurriwl by the ardor of his mind; and so aifccted at a preconcerted line and page that he is imable to proceed any further ?" CHAPTER III. Lessons from the Expeeience of Eminent Orators. Although unwritten speech is popular and has innu- merable arguments in its favor, many persons yet maintain that eloquence of the highest character cannot be reached Mdthout trusting to the memory and the pen. In vain we urge that it is more natural to find words at the moment of utterance ; that a better framework may be constructed by confining preparation to it alone ; that the hearer and speaker may thus be brought mto more perfect accord ; that this, in short, is the method of nature, Mdiich permits the solid part of the tree to stand through many winters, ^iiile its graceful robe of foliage is freshly bestowed every spring. AVith the emphasis of an axiom, opponents declare that the words of a great orator must be previously chosen, fitted, and polished. A speech-writer is apt to have one argument drawn from his own experience which outweighs all argument. His own most satisfactory efforts are those in which nothing is left to the chance of the moment. But even experience sometimes misleads. We may be bad judges of our own performancx^s. When extemporizing, tlie best utterances are often immediately forgotten by the 31 32 kxti:mi'()i:j: bi>Ei:cir. speaker, mHosc mind is (>roAvtlc(l with other "thick- coming fancies." liut in writing we may linger lovingly over each sentence, and return to enjoy it as oflen as wc wish. If anything is imperfect, Nve can correct and improve duwn to the moment of speech. And while in the act of reading or reciting Ave are in a much better position to admire our oAvn work, than when carried away by such an impassioned torrent as to scarcely know whether wc have been using words at all. If our auditors declare their preference fur the latter, we can find a ready explanation in their Avant of taste and culture. It is not denied that great effects may be produced by memorized words. The popularity of the stage is sufficient proof of their power. Actors oflen cause uncontrollable tears to flow. If a man can write power- fully, and then recite well, he may greatly move an audience. Massillon, Bossuet, and our own John B. Gough, have each achieved great popular success in that manner. But Avhile such men will bo listened to with eagerness and pleasure, they will be regarded as great performers n'.tlier than as authorities and guides. They have placed themselves on a level Avith those Avho deal in unreal things, and must be contented to remain there. Doubtless, it is more noble to speak in the Avords that AA^ere once appropriate to our feelings and sentiments, than to deal only in the Avords of others ; but the re- semblance betAveen quoting our oAvn pro\'iously prepared EXPERIENCE OP EMINENT ORATORS. 33 language and the language of other persons is felt more keenly by the people than the difference between the Uvo processes. But even in momentary effect, declaimers of memorized words have been surpassed by extemporizers, as numerous examples demonstrate ; Avhile in power of thought and lasting influence the superiority of the latter is so great as to make comparison almost impossible. The great examples of Demosthenes and Cicero are often quoted to prove that eloquence of the highest type must be written. Of these men it may be said that Demosthenes had an assemblage of great qualities that, backed by his tireless industry, would have made any method the road to brilliant success. But he did not always recite, and he would not have dreamed of using manuscript. Cicero was at least as great in literature as in oratory, and his speeches are now read as literary models. Some of them were never spoken at all. It may be allowed that he ordinarily recited previous pre- parations, but some of his most brilliant passages were purely extemporaneous. The outburst that overwhelmed Catiline upon the unexpected appearance of the latter in the Roman Senate was coined at white heat from the passion of the moment. Hortensius, the great rival of Cicero — perhaps his superior as an advocate — spoke in spontaneous words, as did many of the most eminent of the Roman orators, whose fame now is less brilliant than 34 EXTK.MroKK Si>EP]ClI. Cicero's, mainly because no effective moans then existed of prc.scrvin<^ extempore speech. As an offset to the example of Demosthenes, the great name of Pericles may be fairly atlduced. He did not write his addresses, and direct comparison is therefore impossible; but his speech established a sway over the cultivated democracy of Athens in the day of their highest glory more indis- putable than Demosthenes ever attained. The case m regard to the ancient world may be thus sunimed up : jNIanuscript reading was not considered oratory at all ; all speeches were either recited or extem- porized ; the latter have inevitably perished, while some of the former have survival, and, becoming a part of school-book literature, have conferred a disproportionate fame upon their authors. An orator who was compelled to write his speech in order to preserve it had a much greater inducement to write than exists since the inven- tion of shorthand reporting. Yet some speakers of the highest eminence did not adopt that mode, and others did not confine themselves to it. In the modern world the weight of example is decis- ively on the side of unwritten speech. A few instances are all that our space will allow us to adduce. AugiLstine, the great Christian writer and preacher, has not left us in ignorance as to which mode of address he preferred. He enjoins the " Christian Teacher " to make his hearers comprehend Mhat he says — " to read EXPERIENCE OF E:\IINEXT ORATORS. 35 in the eyes and countenances of his auditors whether they understand him or not, and to repeat the same thing, by giving it different terms, until he perceives it is understood, an advantage those cannot have who, by a servile dependence upon their memories, learn their sermons by heart and repeat them as so many lessons. Let not the preacher," he continues, " become the servant of words ; rather let words be servants to the preacher." This advice will be equally applicable to others than preachers who may possess a serious purpose. But the charity of Augustine allows of reciting under certain cir- cumstances. He well says : " Those who are des- titute of invention, but can speak well, provided they select well-written discourses of another man, and com- mit them to memory for the instruction of their hearers, will not do badly if they take that course." No doubt he intendal that due credit should be given to the real author. Of Luther it was said that " his words were half bat- tles." No man ever wielded greater power over the hearts of the people. He Avas an excellent writer, and had great command of words. But he was too terribly in earnest to write his discourses. From a vast fullness of knowledge he spoke right out, and evoked tears or smiles at pleasure. His strong emotions and indomita- ble will, being given full play, bore down everything before him. 36 EXTE>rr()KE srEEcir. It nmy well bo douhted whether the eloquence of Lord Chatham did not surpass, in immediate effect, anything recorded of Demosthenes or Cicero. His example, and that of his equally gifted son, thoroughly refute those wlio deny that unwritten speech may convey impressions as strong as any ever made by man upon his fellows. Some of his grandest efforts were entirely impromptu, achieving overwhelming success under circumstances which would have left the man of manuscript or of memory utterly helpless. Of AVilliam Pitt, the son of Lord Chatham, who was likewise an extempore speaker in the best sense of the word, !Macaulay says : " At his first appearance in Parliament he showed himself superior to all his contemporaries in power of language. He could pour out a long succession of rounded and stately periods without ever pausing for a word, without ever repeating a word, in a voice of silver clearness and with a pronunciation so articulate that not a letter was slurred over." These two men were never excelled in debate. They had that great advantage peculiar to good extempore speakers of being always ready. Every advantage offered was seized at the most favorable moment. Time wasted by others in writing and memorizing special orations they usal in accumulating such stores of gen- eral knowledge and in such wide culture that they were i:XPERIE>X"E OF EMINENT ORATORS. 37 always prepared. They came to great intellectual con- tests with minds unfagged by the labor of previous com- position, and their Mords were indescribably fresh and ("harming, because born at the moment of utterance. The traditions of the almost supernatural eloquence of Patrick Henry are dear to the heart of every American school-boy. While few specimens of his eloquence sur- vive, it is sure that he exerted wonderful power in speech, and that he contributed not a little to the estab- lishment of the ^Vmerican Republic. He never wrote a word either before or after delivery, and his mightiest efforts were made in situations where the use of the pen Avould have been impossible. The Virginia Resolutions, Avliich mark a vital point in the history of the Revolu- tionary struggle, were Avritten by him on the blank leaf of a law book while a discussion was in progress. In the whole of the terrible debate which followed he was ever ready, speaking repeatedly and mastering every opponent. He was a great thinker, but a meager writer. History and human character were his favorite studies, and these contributed to fit his ^vonderful natural genius for coming triumph. Among the great English preacher.; of the past cen- tury two were especially great as measured by tlic degree of popular influence they wielded. \\\i do not wish to consider Wesley and AMiitefield in any other light than as effective orators. They each did an amount 38 i;xti:mi'()KK speech. of speaking that a inaiuisciipt reader would have found .impossible, even if the latter had been hindered by no other consideration. At the begining Whitefield did memorize most of his sermons. Even afterward he treated the same subject so frequently when addressing different audiences that the words, tones, and gestures, as well as the outline of thought, became quite familiar. Yet his own testimony is decisive as to the fact that he was not a memoritor preacher in the narrow sense of the term. He says that when he came to preach he had often, in his own apprehension, "not a word to say to God or man." Think of a person who has a fully memorized speech, which he is conning over in his mind, making such a declaration, and afterward thanking God lor having given him words and wisdom ! Whitefield's j)ublished sermons show few traces of the pen, but bear every mark of impassioned utterance. He spoke every day, until speaking bwame part of his very life. Think what a command of language, and of all the resources of speech, he must thus have acquirol ! Wesley wrote many sermons, and on a very few occasions read them. Pie used the pen almost as much as tlie voice, but he wrote sermons, books, and letters for others to read, not as material for his Own public reading. He was less impassioned and overwhelming than Whitefield but his sermons w^ere not less effective. They were noted for the quality of exactness of state- EXPERIE>X'E OF EMINENT ORATOHS, IM) nient. In the most easy and fluent manner he said pre- cisely what he wanted to say. He was never compelled to retract an unguarded expression into ^vhieh he had been hurrial by the ardor of the moment. Yet his power over his hearers was not diminished by this carefulness. Scenes of physical excitement, such as attended the preaching of Whitefield, were even more marked under his own calm words. We will refer to another deceased preacher, mIio pre- sents the strange preculiarity of being an extempore speaker whose great fame has been aaj^uired since his eloquent voice became silent in death, and now rests upon his written sermons. Frederick W. Robertson labored in a comparatively narrow field and finished his career m youth, l)ut he was truly eloquent. His exam- ple proves that extempore speech may be tlie vehicle of the most profound thought and be crowned with all the graces of style. These qualities have given his sermons greater popularity in high scientific, literary, and philo- sophical circles, than those of any preacher of the present day. How could such extempore sermons be preserved ? A few were taken down by a short-hand reporter, and although Itobertson refused to allow their publication in his life-time, thus leaving them without the benefit of his corrections, they are almost faultless in form and ex])ression. Others were written out by his own hand alter delivery, but these are more or less fragmentary. 40 EXTEMPORE SPEECH. Had it been necessary for him to write and memorize each sermon, he could never have pursued those thorough studies, described in liis letters, from Mliicli he derived so much of his })ower. The great trio of American political orators belong- ing to the generation which has just gone from the stage — Clay, "Webster, and Calhoun — were extempore sj)cakers ; Clay and Calhoun always, and Webster usually, speaking in that maimer. The latter, however, was fond of elaborating some striking thought in his mind to the last degree of word-finish, and then bring- ing it forth in the rush of spontaneous utterance. This did not make his speech composite in the mode of delivery, for these prepared gems were short fragments, employed only for ornamental purposes. Competitors of these great men ^\ho \\'ere obliged to rely upon man- uscript or memory stood no chance of success in the fiery debates through which they passed. From hundreds of living extemporizers we will call attention to but three, and these of the highest eminence. They arc all distinguished writers and do not rely on the extempore method of discourse because of inability to succeed in other methods. Tliase men are Plenry Ward Beecher, Charles H. Spurgeon, and William E. Gladstone. The amount and quality of work of all kinds they have accomplished would have been impos- si'jle for speech-readers or reciters. Beecher sometimes EXPERIENCE OF EMINENT ORATORS. 41 reads a sermon or a lecture, but though he reads well, the effect is small as compared with the fire and con- summate eloquence of his extempore addresses. Spurgeon has drawn together and maintains probably the largest congregation that ever regularly attended the ministry of one man, and he is purely extemporaneous. Both tliese men are subjected to the additional test of having their sermons written from their lips and widely pub- lished, thus showing that their popularity has other elements besides the personal presence and magnetism of the speakers. The wonderful power of Gladstone has been displayed unceasingly for half a century. AVhile eager critics, hostile as well as friendly, in Parliament or at the hust- ings, are waiting to catch every word from his lips, he does not find it necessary to control his utterances tlirough the use of the pen. Day after day, in the midst of heated canvasses, he discusses a wide range of compli- cated questions, and neither friend nor foe ever suggests that he could do better if his words were written out and memorized. Even in such addresses as include the details of finance and abound in statistics he uses but a few disconnected figures traced on a slip of paper. Some years ago, when his modes of speech were less known than now, the writer asked him to give a statement of his method of preparation, and any advice he might feci disposed to convey to young students of oratory. The 12 EXTEMPORE SPEECH. following courteous and deeply interesting letter was received in reply, and with its ^^•eighty words we may appropriately close this chapter : Ha WARDEN, North Wales, \ October 12th, 18G7. j Sir : — Though I fear it is beyond my power to com- ply in any useful manner with your request, I am miwill- mg to seem insensible to your wishes. I venture to remark, first, that your countrymen, so far as a very limited intercourse and experience can enable me to judge, stand very little in need of instruc- tion or advice as to public speaking from this side of the water. And further, again speaking of my own expe- rience, I think that the public men of England are beyond all others engrossed by the multitude of cares and subjects of thought belonging to the government of a highly diversified empire, and therefore are probably less than others qualified either to impart to others the best methods of preparing public discourses or to con- sider and adopt them for themselves. Suppose, however, I was to make the attempt, I should certainly found myself mainly on a double basis, compounded as follows : First, of a wide and thorough general education, which I think gives a suppleness and readiness as well as firmness of tissue to the mind not easily to be had without this form of discipline. Second, of the habit of constant and searching reflection on the subject of any proposed discourse. Such reflection will naturally clothe itself in words, and of the phrases it supplies many will spontaneously rise to the lips. I will not say that no other forms of preparation c-an be EXPERIENCE OF EMINENT AUTHORS. 43 useful, but I know little of them, and it is on those, beyond all doubt, that I should advise the young princi- pally to rely. I remain, sir, your most obedient servant, W. E. Gladstone. CHAPTER IV. An Embryo Speech, with Models of Very Simple Plans. Tlie first extemporaneous speeches attempted should be of the simplest character. Too high an ideal formed at the outset may be very harmful by causing needless discouragement. To speak freely in any manner, how- c\X'r rude, until confidence and the power of making every faculty available are acquired, should be the first great object. ]\Iany persons are slaves of bad habits through life because they began wrong. Nothing harms an orator more than cultivating his critical taste far beyond his power of ready utterance. There is no necessary relation between the development of the two things. To become a fine word-critic and master of an excellent written style does not imply the power to strike off finely finished sentences at the speed of the tongue ; l)ut it does tend to render the speaker dissatisfied with anything below the level of his written performances, and thus checks his fluency. To master the difficult art of written composition first, and strive afterward to gain a similar proficiency in spoken words, is a complete reversal of the natural method, and in all but a few giftal minds puts a ])remium on failure. An unlettered AN EMBRYO SPEECH. 45 rustic may speak with perfect ease, because lie is not conscious of the numberless verbal blunders he falls into ; but if it were possible, by some process of spiritual infu- sion, to put him in possession of a fine, critical taste, he would be instantly smitten dumb. The true method is to cultivate the faculty of extem- porization side by side with critical judgment. In case that is done, ease and confidence will not be for a moment disturbed. It thus appears that while an ex- tempore speaker can never know too much, it is quite possible for his knowledge and cultivation to advance in the wrong order. The pen will be of perpetual use to the speaker ; but his command of it must not increase so rapidly in proportion as to make him ashamed of his tongue. From this reasoning it follows that the best time to lay the foundation of excellence in speech is very early in life. Speeches made then are necessarily flimsy and rudi- mentary, but they are not the less valuable on tliat account. They are to be estinated not for their own worth, but for their "results upon the mind producing them. The schoolboy's first '^ composition " has always been a mark f r cheap witticism ; but the boy himself regards it with justifiable pride, as the first step in the noble work of putting thought on paper. The same pains and patience applied to the art of public talk- ing as to written composition will produce equal fruit. 40 EXTEMPORE SPEECH. A few directions intended to aid in overcoming some of the initial difficulties of speech, "whicii may serve as suggestions to teachers as well as helps to solitary students, are here aj)pendtxl. They are purposely made of almost ludicrous crudeness, but will not, it is trusted, be less serviceable on that account; for it is not so important to aid the mature speaker in giving the last fine strokes of genius to a masterly oration, as it is to stimulate and guide beginners in their first stammering utterances. The simplest oration or formal address that can be constructed has three distinct parts. With these we will begin the great work of division and arrangement. They may be named as follows : 1. The Introductiox. 2. The Discussion. 3. The Conclusion. On this framework a speech-plan can be constructed simple enough for any child. And it is at the same time true that even a child, with such a plan, might speak appropriately who would othenvise not be able to begin at all. We will consider these three parts in their order. The introduction is at once important and embarrass- ing. First words are nearly always heard attentively, and they do much to determine the degree of attention that will be liestowed on the remainder of the speech. AN EMBRYO SPEECir. 47 The young speaker should select something as an intro- duction upon which his mind can fasten, instead of dwelling upon the frightful generality of the naked theme. Neither is it hard to construct a good introduc- tion if a few plain directions are heeded, which will be more fully given in a succeeding chapter. All persons feel the need of some kind of a formal opening, and therefore often begin with an apology — the very worst form of an introduction, because it is not interesting in itself and does not lead up to the subject. In rudimentary speech, which we are now considering, the introduction should be simple, and, above everytliing else, easy for the speaker to comprehend and remember. If there is anything in the whole world which he is sure lie can talk about for a few moments, and which can be made to have a moderate degree of connection with his subject, let that be chosen for an opening. If it is also vivid and striking in itself, and familiar to the audience, so much the better ; but this quality should not be in- sisted upon in these first attempts. When the introductory topic is selected it should be turned over in the mind until the speaker knows just what he is going to say about it. This process will have a wonderfully quieting eifect upon his nerves. He has fairly mastered something, and knows that at all events he can begin his speech. It is well to make a note of this introduction in a few simple words which will 48 KXTKMPouK srEEcir. stronpjly fasten themselves in tlic memory. No effort toward elaboration slioukl be made, for that would naturally lead to a memorized introduction, and either require the whole ppee(;h to be written, or produce a painful and difHcult transition. The discussion deals directly with the subject or central idea of the discourse. Here a clear statement of at least one thought which the speaker can fully grasp should be made. The pen (or pencil) may be used in preparation without impropriety. If but one idea is thought of, let that be \sritten in the fewest and strongest words at the student's command. While doing this it is likely that another and related thought will spring into mind which can be treated in the same manner. With diligent students there may even be a danger of getting down too many seed-thoughts. But that contingency is provided for in the chapters on the fully developed plan, and netKls no further notice at this time. When this central division is completely wrought out, two other points claim attention. How shall the transi- tion be made from the introduction , to the discussion? A little reflection will show how to glide from one to the other, and that process should be conned over, without \\riting, until it is well understood. It is wonderful liow many outlines of ideas the memory will retain Avithout feeling burdened ; and this power of retention trrows enormouslv throui^h exercise. AX EMBRYO SPEECH. 49 After this, the mode of gliding from the discussion to the conclusion may be treated in the same manner, and Avith equal profit. The conclusion itself is scarcely less material than the introduction ; but there is much less range of choice in the manner of closing than in that of beginning. The subject is before the audience, and any wide departure from it seems like the beginning of a new speech — something not usually well received. There is this distmction between the relative value of introduction and conclusion : a good introduction adds most to a speaker's ease, confidence, and power during the moment of speech ; but a good conclusion leaves the deepest per- manent impression upon the audience. It is usually remembered longer than any other part of the address. When a discourse has been prepared in this simple manner it has virtually five parts — three written and two held in memory. From such an outline it is far more easy to make an address than from the bare an- nouncement of a theme. It is true that all these parts may be formed and held in mind without ever making a pen-stroke. A practiced orator will do this, in a moment, Avhen unexpectedly called upon ; or he may only forecast the introduction and trust to finding the plan as fast as it is needed. But in this he is no model for imi- tation by beginners. Even powerful orators sometimes spoil the whole effect of a good address by an unfor- tunate mode of closino;. Thov mav fonj-ct to close in hO EXTEMPOKE SPEECH. time — a grievous fliult ! — or may finish with some weak thought or extravagant proposition, by which the whole speech is mainly judged and all its good points neu- tralized. The construction of even as simple a plan as here indicated would have more than double the effect of many speeches made by great men. A few simple and rude plans are annexed. No merit is sought for in any one of them beyond making plain the method recommended. PLANS OF SPEECHES. EXAMPLE FIRST. Subject. — Chinese Emigration to America. Introduction. — The number of emigrants to our country and the nations they represent. [A totally different and more effective introduction might be the description of a group of Chinese as seen by the speaker.] Discussion. — The nature, amount, and present effect of Chinese emigration. tit is possible for the speaker in his introduction to foreshadow the position he expects to maintain in his speech ; or he may make a colorless introduction and reserve his opinion for the discussion. The material under this head is unlimitcxl. It is only necessary from the oratorical stand-point that the spcalcer sliould deter- mine what course to take, and then carefully think out in advance or read — for historv and statistics cannot be AN EMBRYO SPEECH. 51 improvised — all about that which he intends to use. When he can tell it all over easily to himself he may reasonably feel assured of his ability to tell it to others. The various arguments should be weighed and the best selected. That which most naturally connects with the introduction should be iirndy fixed in the mind as the first, that it may form the bridge from the one part to the other.] Conclusion. — Results of policy advocated, either pralicted, described, or shown to be probable. Mode of remalying evils that might be appre- hended from that policy. [In the conclusion the speaker may take upon himself the character of a prophet, poet, or logician. He may pralict results and let the statement make its own impression. He may i)ut all emphasis upon a vivid painting of the future colored by the views he advocates ; or he may sum up his reasons, deduce consequences, and weigh alternatives. The choice between these different modes may be made instinctively, or it may require con- siderable mental effort, but when ma, and new-jolauted orchards " as a public park. The argument was irresistible, and needed no elaboration. If hig death was avenged as a murder, the will would be valid ; otherwise, it would be set aside, and his estate confiscated by the conspirators. The people, thus fired by the strongest motives of grati- tude and interest themselves supply the conclusion, and Brutus had to fly for his life. The whole speech is worth study as an exhibition of almost perfect eloquence. Shakespeare meant to draw in Brutus the picture of a scholar coming before the people with fine words, and producing little more than a literary effect. In Antony he pictures the true orator in the plentitude of his power, to whom words are but servants in accomplishing his puqjose of persuading and inflaming the people. The one speech reads as if it might have been written out in the closet and memorized ; the other gushes from the heart of the speaker as he watches the sea of upturned faces, adapting his words with exquisite skill to suit and swell the passions written there. CHAPTER V. Initial Fear and how to Overcome it. However nuiiicrou.s and varial may be the classes of those who couteiiiplate extempore siDeech, they are all confronted by one common difficulty. Whether a boy makes his maiden effort, or a man of wide thouQ-ht and ripe culture attempts for the first time to dispense with the manuscript in which he has trustal through years of successful public speech, the fear of failing looms up before each of them in a manner equally formidable. The writer well remembers his first boyish venture into this arena of ])eri]. A debate in a village shoe- maker's shop furnished the occasion. Two or three " speakers " were ranged on a side, and the question was that time-honoral controversy of country lyceums — the comparative magnitude of the wrongs suffered by the Indians and the Negroes at the hands of the American Government. Which side the writer was on, or what arguments Avere used, has long since been forgotten, but the }>a]pitating heart, the terrible suspense, as one afler another of the preceding speakers made his remarks and brought the terrible moment of facing the audience nearer, can never cease to be remembered. When at last called out by the voice of the presiding officer, I found 60 INITIAL FEAR. 61 my way to the end of a rude bench or counter that ran partly across the room, leaned upon it, shut my eyes, and began to talk. How hoarse and hollow the sound that " followed! All that was uttered was instantly forgotten by the speaker, for one terrible thought dominatal every other — a speech was being made! ]\Iy head whirled, every nerve tingled, and a confused, roaring sound filled my ears, while I most heartily repented of allowing myself to be persuaded into such a frightful position. A great dread stared at me from the end of each sen- tence — that of finding nothing more to say and being obliged to sit down amid the ridicule of neiglibors and school-fellows. When at length the agony was over, and opening my eyes, I dropped into a seat, a striking revulsion of feeling occurred. This rose to the height of joy and triumph when I learned that " the speech " had actually been ten minutes long. It was a grand achievement! In all sober earnest, I estimate that this first effort was probably the most profitable of my life, because it was a beginning in the right direction. Weeks of prepanv tion preceded the momentous effort, and in some kind of a way the result had been poured upon the audience. From that time the writer was numbered among llie village debaters and shared in the advantages of the village Lyceum — a capital means of improvement. Had the first extemporaneous effort been made later ia life, G2 EXTEMPORE SPEECH. the shrinking and tenor would probably have been even greater. AVhile no way has been discovered of altogether pre- venting the initial fear that attends extemporaneous speech by the unpracticed orator, yet it may be greatly lessened and more rapid and perfect control of it obtained by heeding a few simple suggestions. Some serviceable expedients have already been pointal out, and will here only be referred to. As simple a plan as that described in the last chapter, with lengthened meditation on each part, will give the mind of the speaker something to do aside from dwelling upon his own danger. He should also prepare far more matter than can possibly be iLsed — so much that in the simplest and baldest .statement it will fill a respectable period of time. He need not be careful as to how he speaks, or in how many forms he repeats the same idea. Originality, also, may safely be neglected. The object is not to talk especially w^ell, or to utter that which has never been uttered before, but only to keep on talking until self-possession and the mastery of every faculty have been fully restored. This preparation of great quantities of material with no care as to the graces of delivery may expose the speaker in time to another peril — that of being tedious and weari- some ; but this is not the source of the initial fear with which we are now dealing::, and when it becomes a real evil there are effectual means of guarding against it. INITIAL FEAR. G3 A further direction is that the mode of introduction be very firmly fixed in the mind. Tliis wonderfully calms the speaker. He knows that he can begin even if he never gets any further ; and by the time the intro- duction is passed, if the man possesses any natural apti- tude for speech, his mind will in all ordinary cases have recovered its equilibrium, and be ready to devise and direct everything that follows. The plan and the full notes which have been made should also be kept within easy reach, or even in the hand — not with the intention of using them, for that is the very thing to be avoided, but that the speaker, by knowing that they can be referred to in an emergency, may be guarded against " stage fright." He may also exercise self-control by not looking at them unless abso- lutely driven to it. The object of first eiforts — even for the orator who is great in other modes of delivery — is not to make a great or admired speech, but only to get through the ordeal without disgrace or failure. Quality must be sought' later. To get any reasonable quantity of speech at first, to satisfy yourself that you can both think and talk when on your feet, is achievement enough. One caution may be oifered to the man possessing a good written style which the boy will not need. Do not make your preparation so minutely or verbally that the very words linger in your memory. If you do, one Ci[ EXTEMPORE SPEECH. ol" two thiii<2;s will probably happen : either you will recite a memorized speech, which, however fine in itself". Mill contribute nothing to the object of learning to speak exteniponuieously, or the fine fragments of remembered diction that flood in your mind will be so out of harmony ^^•ith the ^v•ords spontaneously evolved as to produce a contmual series of jars and discords noticeable to every one, and to none more painfully than to yourself. The writer once listened to a speech of this mixed character, in which the orator would soar for a time on the wings of most excellent words, and then drop down to his ordi- nary and very meagre vocabulary. So frequent and unexpected were these transitions that the orator's pro- gress suggested nothing so much as traveling over one of those western corduroy roads, Avhere the wdieels of the carriage first rise with a great effort on top of a log, and then plunge into fathomless depths of mud ! Rather than such jolting, it is better that the experimental speeches should never rise above the level of mere talk, -and thus maintain a uniform progress. In due time all qualified persons can lift their extemporaneous words as high as the utmost reach of the pen. But first must be gained the power of standing unprotected by a paper wall, face to face with an audience and employing every faculty as calmly and efficiently as in the study. Practice in talking to the people will make this possible and easy, but nothinfj else will. CHAPTER VI. Utility of Debating Societies. Comparatively little attention is paid to the direct cultivation of extemporaneous oratory in schools and colleges. Indirectly, much help is given by teaching many things which go to furnish the orator with ideas and words, but the combination of these into that noble effort of human genius — a speech — is left to individual research or to accident. A few schools of oratory have been founded which give a large and probably dispro- portionate share of attention to elocution in the form of stage or dramatic reailing ; but even the best of these are as yet but entering upon their real work of cultivating thoroughly the power of persuasive public speech . When each college shall have a chair of extempore speech, and each academy shall give as much attention to unpre- meditated utterances in conversation and public address as is now bestowed upon Greek or Latin, the oratory of pulpit, bar, platform, and legislature will be of a vastly higher type. Some newspaper critics have deprecated teaching the art of speech on the ground that there is already too much public talking. This view, if seriously entertained, 65 C6 KXTKMPOKE SrKKCII. is very narrow and misleading. Not more, but better speech — an increase of quality, rather than quantity — \\uuld result from cultivation, and improved methods. ^Vnd it may also be argued that if a great part of the work of life is found in convincing, instructing, and per- suading our fellows, an abundance of speech is absolutely required. As frealom and mental activity increase, the only practicable modes of leading and governing men, which rest upon persuasive speech, will be more urgently demandal. In a state where the will of one man is law, political speech has little place ; and in a Church where independent thought is heresy and the mass of the peoj)le accept unquestioningly the precise form of faith in whi(!h they were born, preaching will have a very narrow field. But in our o^\^l country it is our boast that we determine every subject by free discussion ; and it is clear that a man who can take no part in the oral battles that are continually waged about him is placed at a great disad- vantage. But the literary societies generally connected with schools do afford very valuable help in acquiring the art of oratory. Not only their formal exercises, but their discussion of points of order and procedure, and the management of the business and government of such societies, call out talking talent. Debating societies or lyceums give the same kind of facilities to speakers outside of educational hulls. A spirited debate on some UTILITY OF DEBATING SOCIETIES. G7 topic not above the comprehension of the debaters affords one of the best possible means of acquiring the prime faculties of assurance and fluency. In such debates the question is chosen, the sides assigned, and ample time given for that kind of preparation which can only be effectually made in the general study of the subject. There is no great temptation to write a speech for a coming debate, as its formal sentences would fit poorly into the line of argument, the course of which cannot be foreseen, even if their substance should not be anticipated by a speaker on the same side. But the more general knowledge of the sulyect in its entire range that can be acquired the better, so long as it does not overwhelm the speaker. The opening speech may indeed be planned in advance with some definiteness, but all others will be colored and modified by the situa- tion into which the debate has been drawn. Each par- ticipant is under a strong stimulus to do his best, sure, if successful, of warm approval by his colleagues and sweet triumph over his opponents. After the opening speech each contestant will have the time his predecessor is speaking for arranging arguments and preparing an answer. The stimulus of contradiction rouses every faculty to the highest energy. Each argument is scru- tinized for the purpose of discovering its weak point, and nothing will pass on trust. It may as well be acknowledged that the gladiatorial spirit, though in a (JS EXTEMPORE SPEECH. imKlified form, is still rife in the civilized world. The *'joy of conflict" may be tasted as well in the sharp encounters of an earnest debate upon some topic of absorbing interest as on the battle-field. A society which furnishes its members continual opportunity for speech, imder such conditions cannot fail to be a powerful alucator in the direction of extemporaneous speech. In such encounters, the freedom that belongs to this kind of address is most highly appreciated, and the mistaken considerations of dignity and propriety which so often take all life and heart from speech can have little weight. Debates have indeed been occasionally carried on by means of essays in place of speeches, but such encounters have been tame and listless affairs, and have soon given place to the real article. Among the Ameri- can statesmen who have taken their first lessons in the art which paved their way to greatness in country debating societies may be reckoned Henry Clay, Abraham Lin- coln, James A. Garfield, and many others only less emi- nent. Enough inducements, we trust, have been set forth to lead every student of speech to find or make an oppor- tunity for availing himself of this capital means of cul- tivation. Let him enter upon the work of debating, earnestly resolving (afler the first few efforts) to do the very best in his power. Let him arrange his material carefully, select a striking mode of opening each address, L'TILITV OF DEBATING SOCIETIES. 09 and strive to close in such a manner as to leave the best eJEFect on the minds of his hearers. As he debates for improvement rather than for immediate victory, he will, of course, despise all tricks and seek to win fairly, or — what is just as important a lesson — he will learn to accept defeat gracefully. The skeletons of two speeches on opposite sides of the same question are here presented for the purpose of showing how a simple plan will hold to the proper place all the thoughts and arguments that may be accumulated. The same form of outline is used as in the preceding chapter. Question. Would the annexation of Cuba to the United States be beneficial f Affirmative Argument. Introduction .^-How small and hemmed in by powerful countries the United States would have been if no annexations had ever been made. To annex Cuba would be no new policy. Discussion. Argument First. — Favorable loca- tion of Cuba and commercial value to the United States. Argument Second. — The great riches and beauty of the Island, which make it very desirable. Argument Third. — Advantages to the people of Cuba themselves, in belonging to a great and free nation. KXTKMPORE SPEECH. Conclusion. — ^Vll i)rcviou.s annexations had to encounter strong opposition when first pro- posed, hut arc now ac knowkxlged to have heen gooti policy. So, if Cuba is brought under our flag, op])ositi()n will die out and all parties be glad of the result. Negative Argument. Introduction. — Plausible but inconclusive na- ture of the argument advanced on the other side. Previous annexations may not have been good, though opposition ceased ^^dlen it could avail nothing. Even if all former annexations Avere beneficial this might not be, as all attend- ing circumstances are so widely diiferent. Discussion. Argument First. — The nation lias already as much territory as can be Avell gov- erned. An increase would lead to grave dtui- gers. Argument Second. — The people of Cuba are dif- ferent in language, race, and religion from the majority of the people of the United States; have different customs, and are unacquainted with the working of our institutions. They could not therefore be transformed easily into good citizens. Conclusion. — Dreadful wars and calamities have arisen in all ages and all parts of the w'orld from greediness in absorbmg territory' — "earth hunger," as the Germans call it. To annex Cuba would mvolve present and future danger. PART II. Preparation of the Speaker, CHAPTER I. Unfortunates who Never can Extemporize. Persons are met every day ^^•llo declare their belief in extempore speech — for others — but who are fully per- suaded that the possibility of ever becoming effective speakers has been placed by nature forever beyond their own reach. In some (uses this persuasion is well founded. There are people who cannot by any possible effort learn to speak vvell without manuscript or memor- ized words. But too much must not be made of this acknowledgment. The number of these unfortunates is smaller than is usually believed. It is also noticeable that persons of undoubted talent are often most ready to despair of their own future as speakers, while others, whose defects are patent to all their neighbors, have no fears whatever. The object of this chapter is to ]M)int out the character of the few insuperable disqualifications for extempore speech, and supply rational tests by which their presence in any given cu-jc may be determined. This is a ta.-k of no small difficulty and delicacy; yet it is nci'essary. To enc; any method at all. They have such a union of the power of expression and of the impulse toward it, that they speak as naturally and as surely as the nightingale sings. The existence of extraordinary native genius must be acknowledged as a fact in every department t)f human eifort. But it by no means follows that tliese wonderfully gifted beings will rise to the highest emi- nence in their own spheres. They cei*tainly will not unless they add diligent eftbrt and careful cultivation to their natural'powers. Some of the greatest orators have not belongal to this class, but to that next described. They would never have been heard of — would probably never have addressed an audience at all — if they had not forced their way upward against adverse criticism, and often against their own feeling and judgment, impelled only by a sense of duty or by enthusiastic loyalty to some great cause. The second class is far larger tlian either of the others. The majority of people have not so great talents for speech as to drive them of necessity into the oratorical field. Neither are they absolutely incapable of true speech. If they will labor for success in orator}', as a UNFORTUNATES. 75 photographer or a sculptor labors to master his art, they will gain it ; otherwise, they will always be slow and embarrassed in utterance and be glad to find refuge in manuscript or in complete silence. It is often amusing to note a person of this class who has never learned how to be eloquent, but who is full of ideas that seek expres- sion, using another person who is a mere talking machine as a mouthpiece ! There is nothing wrong in such a division of labor, but the latter secures all the glory, although he runs considerable risk, as his stock of bor- rowed information cannot be replenished at will. The writer knew tM'o young men, members of a certain literary society, who sustained this relation to each other. They usually sat together, and while a debate was in progress the wiser of the two Avould whisper the other what line of argument to follow and what illustrations to employ, and at the proper time the latter would spring to his feet with the utmost confidence, and blaze forth in bor- rowed eloquence. In time, however, the silent man tired of his part and took the pains to learn the art of speech for himself. A great profusion of language is not the first need of an orator. Quite as often as otherwise it proves a hindrance and a snare. The members of tliis large class have every encouragement to work diligently, and are sure of ultimate reward. But the remaining class can no more learn to speak well, than a blind man can learn to paint, or a duml) man 70 i:x'n:.Mi'<)itK si'KKcir. to ^'n\g. ]Io\v shall such persons be made aeqiiauited with their comlition, and thus save themselves years of paini'ul and iVuitle.ss toil? Mathematical accuracy of determination is not practicable, but any person of candor and ordinary judiiment may apply a few simple tests which will not allow wide room for error. A dumb man cannot be an orator. The physical im- pediment is here absolute and recognized by all. But mere slowness and defects of speech, though hurtful, are not necessarily fatal. Stammering may in almost every ca^e be cured, and many stammerers have made good speakers. A weak voice is also a misfortune ; but it may be greatly strengthened, and by cultivation and judicious husbanding become equal to every purpose. A feeble voice will accompli.-h much more in extcniporizing than in reading a manuscript. Some most eloquent men have reached their stations in spite of vocal defects. John Randolph, Robert Hall, and Bishoj) Simpson are cases in point. After all the examples that have been afforded of the power of cultivating the voice, supplemented by the effects of using it in a natural manner, no man who can carry on an ordinary parlor conversation need sav, *'My voice is so weak that I can never be a public speaker." He may require training in the ways pinnted out hereafter ; but with proper effort he can reasonably expect a good degree of success. The w'ritcr here s])eaks from experience. His voice was so feeble that reading a UNFOKTUNATFS. 77 single paragrapli aloud at school was difficult; and when afterward the .study of law was contemplated, many friends dissuaded on the ground that lack of voice forbade all hope of success at the bar. But special drill and the healthful practice of extemporaneous speech have wrought such an improvement that now no great effort is required to make several thousand persons in the open air hear every word of a long address. Some persons are ready to assign their own timidity as an excuse for never attempting public speech. In ninety-nine cases out of a hundred this is no real dis- qualification. If the timidity, indeed, be so great that the person will not risk speech, that decides the question against him, but in such a case he should say, ''I will not," rather than " I cannot." Fear is more under the government of the will than we are apt to imagine. Even when excessive, the right kind of drill ^yill go far toward overcoming it. Great cowards often make good soldiers when so well disciplined that they know just what to do, and from the force of habit cannot neglect it, although their attention may be wholly absorbed in something else. But it is idle to disguise that the ex- tempore speaker will always run some risk of failure. Probably no great orator ever escaped a mortifying, if not disastrous, overthrow at some period of his career. Sheridan and I^ord Beaconsfield each began their great achievements in the English House of Commons by a <(5 KX IKMl-OKl-; SI'EKCn. coniplcle hreakdowii. But they also had the courage to try again aad to kecj) trying until success came. Merc natural shrinking from such trials is no disqualification, if when the mind is fully made up as to the best course there is sufficient courage and will-power to go forward. Indeed, a certain degree of fear belongs to the oratoricitl temperament. A man who can at the first trial calmly face an expectant audience, probably lacks some of the sensitiveness which is one of the qualifications of the poAverful and eflPective speaker. The only real disqnali- fication, therefore, in the direction of timidity, is such a degree of fear as will make the speaker turn away from all the prizes of oratory, unwilling to encounter the hardship and the struggle by which they may be won. But is the position of the reader or declaimer better in this particular than that of the true speaker? How difficult it is to read well before an audience! Even elocutionists who devote years of practice to a narrow range of selections find their efforts very unequal. They can never be sui*e of reaching the full measure of former successes. To read one's own composition, and to feel responsible for the words and the matter, as well as for the delivery, greatly intensifies the fear of falling below reasonable expectations. The writer has observed many manuscript readers, and can testify that they are usually as much embarrassed when the hour of trial arrives as off-hand speakers. In the latter mode of UNFORTUNATES. 79 delivery the voice is so much more free and varied, and the mind is apt to be removed so much more from self, that the balance of advantages in the matter of embar- rassment seems to be decidedly in favor of extemporiz- ing. The perils of the reciter are still more formidable. The reader seldom grows so much embarrassed as to be unable to see the Avords before him. If he loses his place he can begin somewhere else, and stumble on in some kind of way. But verbal memory, when Aveighted with the burden of a whole discourse and clouded by em- barrassmsnt, easily give way altogether. A slight physi- cal ailment may produce the same result. When memory thus fails, scarcely any escape is possible to one accus- tomed to depend upon it. Many speakers will recollect occasions on which they were unable to recall short memorized passages, but coxild easily supply extempor- ized words and thus follow the line of discourse pre- viously marked out without any mortifying confession of failure. It will therefore be a gain to one who aspires to public speech of any kind to settle it finally that no other mode of utterance can diminish those risks which so terrify the extempore s})eakor. A third disqualification is the want of ordinary men- tal power. Great mental endowments may not be neces- sary. In the ordinary meaning of the word, the orator need not be a genius. His oducatif)n may be very defcc- 80 KXTHMPoitK si'i:i;(fi. live, his rnnsjo of information narrow, and his general powers of mind not above the average. Jiut if he is to stand before his fellows as a guide and instructor — a position assumed to some degree by every speaker — he should not be inferior in a marked degree to his hearers, at least in those things which relate to the subjects he discusses. A mediocre man who has had si)ecial training in some one direction, and adds native viy the thought-current, the easier it becomes to open the lips and lot it gush forth in words. "With most person- unspoken meditations are very fragmentary and obscure — mere snatches begun and broken off by passing im- pulses or impressions. An extemporaneous speaker must be able to control his thoughts and hold them to a praletermined path ; and if he also accustoms himself to force them into a full dress of language, the habit will greatly lassen conscious effort in the moment of speech. Bat hoM-ever this is, the power of wielding the resources of his mother tongue is absolutely essential to the orator. A great and incurable deficiency in this respect is fatal. There are examjiles of almost wordless men, Avho, though suffering no deprivation of any of the physical organs of speech, have yet been so deficient in language-power that they could not employ it as the medium of ordinary communication. Such a man — an Illinois farmer — well known to the writer, could not find words to make an ordinary statement without long and embar- rassing pauses. The names of his nearest neighbors were usually forgotten, so that he required continual ])rompting in conversation. He was not below the average of his neighbors either in education or intelli- gence, but was simply almost without the faculty of lanjjuao-e. This deficiencv in a less marked degree is not uncommon. Xo amount of training would ever have UNFORTUNATES. »0 con verted this farmer into an orator. Had he attempted to discuss the most familiar topic his beggarly array of Avords would have been more forlorn than Falstaif 's recruits. Another example that may be cited was in one sense still more instructive — a preacher whose good- ness was acknowledged by all who knew him, a man of solid acquirements and of great diligence and energy. But his long and embarrassed pauses, together with his struggles to get words of some kind to express his mean- ing, constituted a trial to his hearers so great that no congregation would long endure his ministry. It is possible that such persons would gain some relief by writing and reading their discourses. Probably they could not memorize at all. Their reading, however, would most likely be marked by many of the same defects as their spoken utterances, ]\Iany of the persons who accuse themselves of a lack of words mistake the nature of their difficulty. It is easy to bring the matter to a decisive test. If you are really very deficient in the fiiculty of language, you cannot tell an ordinary story, with the details of which you are ])crfectly acquainted, in a prompt and intelligent manner. Try the experiment. Head over two or three times a newspaper account of a wreck, a murder, or some other common occurrence ; then lay down the paj)cr and in your own way tell your friend what has happened. If you can do tliis easily, you need never complain of the 86 i:.\ rKMroKio .si'Hkcii. lack of words. Iviiial iiimiliarity witli any other subject will produce the same results. Neither the preacher nor the farmer referral to could have successfully passed this test. The preacher would have told the story badly, and in an incrtnlibly long space of time; the farmer would not have told it at all. We have now considered the most serious disqualifica- tions lor the orator's vocation. Many things which are constantly assignal by candidates as the reasons for con- fining themselves to the use of manuscript in public address have not been included, for most of these, as -w ill a])j)('ar in a subsequent chapter, are susceptible of easy remedy. Here we have only mentioned those which cannot be cured. If a man concludes, after due trial and consultation, that these defects, or any part of thcni, prevail in his own case, it will be prudent for him to select some other life-work to which he is better adapted than he can ever hope to be for jiublic speaking. ^Ve sum up the following disqualifications for oratory: incurable defects of voice, extreme timidity, feebleness of mind, certain forms of bodily disease, and great de- ficiency in the faculty of language. CHAPTER II. Thought and Emotion. Two kinds of preparation contribute to the production of eloquence. One is tlie preparation of the speaker, the other of the speech. The first is fully as important as the second. In ordinary cases both are indispensable. Some " born orators " speak well without appearing to pay any attention to the improvement of their faculties. Others are occasionally eloquent on a topic without special preparation. Yet these cases when closely ex- amined will be found apparent rather than real excej)- tions to the rule above stated. The man who seems never to have cultivated the power of speech, and is yet able to blaze into fervid eloquence at will, has usually concealed his preparation or carried it on in such uncom- mon methods that they have not been recognized as preparations. On the other hand, a man who speaks A\ell without a moment's warning can do so only when the subject is thoroughly familiar to him. A ready and self-possessed speaker may grasj) thoughts which havQ been long maturing in his mind, and give them forth to an audience in obedience to an unexpected summons, but if he is called upon when he knows nothing whatever of his subject, failure is inevitable, though he may possibly 87 88 EXTEMPOKK SPEECH. \c'il it luoiv or loss in a stream of platitudes. Ask a 11 Kin tit a inoiiu'iit's warnino- to give an astronomical kt'turo. If he is perfectly familiar Avith the subject in g-eiicral, and is also a practical orator, he may succeed Mcll without preparing a special speech. But if he is ignorant of Astronomy, what kind of an address can he make ? If he is the most eloquent man iii the nation that faculty will avail him nothing, for he cannot extem- porize the names of the planets, the laws which govern their motions, or any of the facts out of which his lecture nuist be woven. Precisely the same necessity of adequate information exists in every other field of intelligence. The ignorant man cannot possibly tell that which he does not know, although he may make a great show of knowl- edge out of small material; but even to do that with certainty requires careful premeditation and arrange- ment. In this and following chapters we wish to treat of the kind of cultivation whieh makes a man ready to sj)eak. The field is here very wide and some general considerations must be introduced, but we hope also to give valuable practical directions, especially to those who are yet at the beginning of their career. In considering man as a speaker, we may classify his faculties into two broad divisions; those which furnish the materiah of conimnuication with his fellows; and those which furnish tlie means of such communication. THOUGHT AND EMOTIOX. 89 The first class gives rise to thoughts and emotions in man's own breast ; the second enables him to arouse similar thoughts and emotions in the breasts of others. Our course, therefore, will be to consider, first, thought and emotion, and aftenvard those powers of body and mind by which we express, that is, j^i'ess out from our- selves toward the receptive faculties of our fellow beings. Thought, in the broad sense here given, embraces the knowledge of all facts, and ail the reasoning that may be based upon those facts. Emotion is the mental feeling or response to knowledge, and comprises love, hate, joy, fear, sorrow, and hope. These tv>o. elements are the broad basis of all eloquence. Keen, profound, far-reach- ing thought — in other words, thought raised to its highest terms — and quick, sensitive, powerful emotion, are necessary to the highest eloquence. Compared with them, mere verbal fluency is less than dust in the balance. But such a combination — the highest degree of both thought and emotion — is rare, and many degrees less tlian the hiw-hest of either is available for g-enuine eloquence. To increase either or both, if it can be done without any corresponding sacrifice, is to increase eloquence in precisely the same proportion. Education in the popular sense is the cultivation of thought with the addetl faculty of language. But we prefer to consider the latter power separately as one among the means of communicating thought. no KXTEMPORK f.PICKCII. How, then, shall tliou^xlit-power be increased? There is no royal road. Every one of the flu-ultic'S hy which knowledge is accumulatal and arranged or digested into new ft)rni.s grows stronger by being employed upon its own a[)propriate objects. Exercise is tiien thenie^ns by which the material of knowkxlge is gathered, and all faculties strengthened for future gathering. Each fact irained a(kls to the treasury of tiiouy;ht. A broad and liberal education is of exceeding advantage. This may or may not be of the schools. Indeed, they too often substitute a knowledge of words for a knowledge of things. That fault is very serious to the orator, for the only way by which even language can be effectively taught, is by giving terms to objects, the nature of which has been previously learnwl. But many persons need to speak who cannot obtain an education in the usual sense of the words — that is, college or seminary training. Must they keep their lips forever closed on that account ? By no means. A thousand examples, some of them the most eminent S})eakers the world has produced, encourage them to hope. Let such persons learn all they can. Wide, well-selectei;i:rii. in outline by any stiidciit who thirsts for kiiowknlgo, AMiile thus engaged the student is on the direct road toward oratorical efficiency, though such knowledge will not in itself constitute eloquence. It is but one of its elements. Neither will tlie speaker have to Avait until any definite quantity of reading has been accomplished before it becomes serviceable to him. All that he learns will be immediately available, and, with proper eifort, ths facility of speech and the material for speaking will keep pace with each other. But personal observation o^ life and nature are just as necessary as reading. The world of books is very extensive, but it yields its treasures only to persons who bring to its study some independent knowledge of their own. We cannot hope to add much to the world's stock of knowledge by what Ave see with our own eyes, but Avhat we do see and hear will interpret for us what we learn from the far wider world of books. Gibbon tells us that his militia service, though of no great advan- tage in itself, was afterward very useful to the historian of the Roman Empire. AVhat we behold of the land- scape around us lays the foundation for understanding Avhat poets and travelers tell as of otlier landscapes we may never see. Book knowledge will become rejil and vivid just in proportion as it is brought into comparison with the observation of our own senses. To the orator, this is far more important tluin to the ordinary student, THOUGHT AND EMOTION. 93 for it adds grentl y to the royal faculty of imagination. A description from the lips of a speaker who beholds at the moment a mental picture, accurate as a photot>;raph, and bright with color, will be veiy ditfcrent from another description built up only of words, however well chosen and melodious the latter may be. A little dabbling in natural science, a few experiments trie<^l, an occasional peep through telescope or microscope at tlie A\orlds tliey open, and all other means of bringing knowledge under the scrutiny of our own senses, will greatly contribute to the power of the orator. The reasoning faculties must also bo trained by exer- cise upon their own objects. The knowledge which has been gathered from personal observation or from the testimony of others in books will furnish material, but Avill not enable us to reason. Logic and mathematics have considerable utility as guides, but they cannot supply the want of continuous application of the processes of argument and deduction. Xo man becomes a reasoner from merely learning the mode in which the reason operates. Of two persons, one of whom understands every mood of the syllogism and the source of every fallacy, Avhile the other has no technical knowledge of logics, but has been engaged in careful reasoning, discus- sion, and argument, all his life, it may easily happen that the latter will be the better reasoner of the two — -just as a man might learn from the ])(>oks all the rules of the !lt KXTHMPOUK .srKECII. <::;iuno of croquet, and yot be beaten by another who continnally handled the mallet, but had never read a .single rule. Praetie^^ makes perfect. Essay writing, constructing arguments, tracing effects hack to their causes, making careful comparison of all things that can Ix! compared, in short, bringing our judgment to bear upon all facts, forming our own opinions of every event, and being always ready to give a reason to those who ask, — these modes of exercise will make the faculty of reason grow continually stronger. It is not pretende. It may be jjntpcr to l.i.S EXTEMPORE SPEECH. (li'voto some time and attention to more instruction, but that instruction derives all its value from its bearing upon action: it should be given as the means of ren- dering persuasion more eifec^tive. Warning, reproof, exhortation, consolation, promise — the whole field of motives and induwments — is very wide; but the great object is to make men better, and only incidentally to make them wiser or happier. This peculiar character of preaching renders adherence to extemporaneous speech in the pulpit at once more important and more difficult than anywhere else. The quiet of the church, its solemnity, the fact that the preacher must speak at a given time and has thus the opportunity to write, and that a good sermon deal- ing with truths always applicable may, when once writ- ten, be read to many successive congregations, even after an interval of years ; — the fear of jarring upon the asso- ciations of the church with any rude sentence or un- polished paragra]>h thrown off in the hurry of speech : — all these considerations powerfully plead for the manu- script. Yet in hardly any other form of address is the manuscript so hurtful. Extemporaneous speech is pre- eminently the persuasive form of address, and persuasion is the great object of the sermon. If the preacher ccas(!s to be persuasive he may as well cease to preac^h, so far as the accomplishment of the true function of his office is concerned. The nuxle pointed out in the following part PECULIARITIES. 1 39 of this work wiU, it is believed, enable the extemporane- ous preacher to utilize all the persuasiveness that belongs to his character, and at the same time escape all the dan- gers which have driven so many preachers to manuscript. The conditions under which lawyers speak are very different. They are tempted by the surroundings of the court-room to set too low a value upon the graces of oratory, while the accomplishment of an immediate pur- pose engrosses their attention. The judge and jury are before them — a client is to be made victorious, or a criminal to be punished. Keen interest and emotion are supplied by the occasion itself. The law must be ex- plained, the facts elicited and weighed, and the jury per- suaded. There is also the great advantage of having the case decided at a definite time. No disposition exists on the part of the jury to postponement. If the lawyer once convinces them that law and evidence are on his side, the verdict follows as a matter of course. But when the preacher gets that far he has scarcely begun. His hearers may admit the truth of every word he speaks and the goodness of the course he advises, but tliey can comply with his advice at any time, and in that feeling they may postpone their action for years, if not {permanently. But the lawyer can press his case on to a decision, which may be resisted for a time by one of tlie parties, but not by the jury to whom he addresses his arguments, and seldom by the judge. 140 loxTEMrouE .sri:i:cii. Lawyers have but little temptation to iudiilj^e in writ- ten speeches : the exigencies of the trial make formal preparation of little service. The great talent for a lawyer's purpose is that favored by extemporaneous speech — the power of a clear, orderly statement of facts that are often exceedingly complex. This generally proves more eifective than any argument. To grasp all the evidence that has been brought forward, and, putting it into the very simplest form it will bear, to show on that statement to judge and jury that he is entitled to the verdict — this is the great art of the advocate. But his statement must include or account for all the facts ; otherwise, he lays himself open to an easy and damaging reply. The method usually adopted is to make a note of each fact elicited, each argument used by the opposite attorney, and each salient point of the case. Then these are reduced to the simplest form, an appropriate intro- duction sought, and either a strong argument, or an eifective summing up, reserved for the conclusion. With this much of preparation the lawyer finds it easy to pro- vide suitable words for the expression of the whole speech. The speech of the judge in summing up or charging tlie jury differs only from that of the advocate in the greater impartiality by which it is marked. The most fair-minda] attorney will be biased, more or less un- consciously, by the greater care which he bestows upon his own side of the case. PECULIARITIES. 141 Anniversary, platform, and lyceimi lectures have much in common. Entertainment being the prominent object m them all, illustration and embellishment are greatly sought for. Humor is also in most cases highly enjoyed. The same address may be repeated many times and comes to have the finish of a work of art. The great camp-meeting sermons at seaside resorts, at anniversaries, and similar occasions, properly belong to this class rather than to that of sermons. This is the field in which memoriter addresses are usually supposed to be superior to all others. It may be conceded that whenever form rises into more prominence than matter, writing and memorizing will have increasing claims. A speaker who wishes to repeat one speech without sub- stantial variation to a hundred audiences will not find it a great task to write it in full and memorize it. But if he is really a master in spontaneous utterance he need not depart from his usual course. He can fully prepare his materials and then speak the words of the moment, without the least fear of suffering in comparison with the reciter. Instructive addresses by teachers and professors are nearly always given extempore, with the exception of those written lectures in the higher institutions which are supposed to sum up the results of knowledge in their respective departments. Even then the practice is not unif<>rm, as many professors prefer talking to their Ii2 EXTEMPOUK SPEECH. pupils rather than reading to them. The practice of reading in such cases is really a survival from the days when books were scarce and high-priced, and the student found it easier to write notes from the lips of some master than to purchase the volumes containing the same knowledge, even when it had been published at all. But the tendency now is to find the statement of the facts of science, art, and literature in books, and depend upon the living teacher only to give vividness, life, and illus- tration to them. All this can be best done by the ex- temporaneous method. Other modes of speech will naturally suggest them- selves, but they present nothing peculiar in form. All that can be said about them may be compressed as profit- ably into the general topics of subject and object, thought-gathering, arrangement, and use of the plan, etc., which occupy the following pages. PART III. Plan and Delivery of the Speech, CHAPTER I. The Pex and the Tongue. It does not follow from anything we have said that the pen should be discarded by the extempore speaker. Because he is not obliged to write eacii word, he should not feel excused from writing altogether. Few greater misfortunes could happen to a speaker than being deprived of the power of recording and preserving notes for the purposas of oratory. The most tenacious mem- ory is burdened by the weight of a large number of intended discourses, especially if they are long and com- plex. No person can feel sure that he will remember all parts of the speech he intended to utter even in out- line, unless it has been reduced to regular form so that one part will suggest another. In going to a store to purchase a few articles the pen is very useful in making a memorandum ; if the errand boy neglects that precau- tion some of the most essential thing-s mav be fory-otten. Among illiterate people a great many mnemonic signs have been employed, such as associating things to be remembered with the fingers, etc. ; but among intelligent persons all of these have been superseded by the use of writing, and it would be very absurd to advocate a return to the old modes on the pica that the memory 145 1 IG EXTEMrouF, srEEcn, ini<:;lit he so strcnotlienwl that all items could be safely remembered. The reply would be ready : " Yes, it is possible ; but we have a far better and less burdensome way of accomplishing the same object and have no motive in returning to the more difficult mode." Thus while it may be possible to arrange in the mind all the outlines of a long discourse, it is not easy to do it, and there is no gain in the extra labor involved. P^verything bearing upon a discourse may be written in brief outline, and then a selection made of what is best, throwing out all other portions. The remainder can then be far bet- ter arranged when in such a position that the eye as well as the mind can glance at it. The preparation for the intended speech thus assumes the shape of a miniature or outline, and may be filled out at any point which needs strengthening. But even if it were possible to construct the plan and speak well v.ithout any previous use of the pen, this would, in the majority of cases, be insufficient. The orator needs to preserve the materials, if not the form of his oration, cither for use in future speeches or for com- parison with later effi^rts. It is very wasteful to throw away valuable material once accumulated, and then search the same ground over again Avhen required to treat the same topic. This would be acting in the spirit of the savage who eats enough to satisfy his appetite and throws away all that remains, as he feels no further need THE PEN AND THE TONGUE. 147 for it, and only begins to gather again when hunger spurs him to exertion. The pen is the instrument of accumulation and pres- ervation, and should be diligently employed. No speaker can rise to permanent greatness without it. The in- stances given to the contrary are mere delusions or evasions. If the service of other pens can be em- ployed, as in the case of short-hand rej^orters and amanuenses, this is but doing the same thing under another form. The principal purjjose of this third division of the work is to show how the pen may be used in such a manner as to preserve and arrange all the material we may gather, elaborate, or originate on any subject, so as to bring to the moment of unfettered extempore speech all the certainty of result and accumulated power of which our faculties are capable. Bacon says : " Reading makes a full man, writing an exact man, and conference a ready man." All these means should be used and all these qualities attained by the eloquent speaker. . CHAPTER II. Subject and Object. We now enter upon the most practical part of our subject. AVe have seen M'hat natural qualities are indis- pensable, and how these, when possessed, can be improved by training. The importance of a wide scope of knowl- edge bearing upon oratory, and of understanding and having some command of the powers of language has been pointed out. When a man has all of these, and is still a diligent student growing daily in knowledge, he is ready to consider tiie methods by which all his gifts and acquirements may be concentrated upon a single speech. Some of the directions in tliis and the imme- diately succeeding chapters are of universal ai)plication, while others are thrown out as mere suggestions to be modified and chang-al accordino* to individual taate or particular circumstances. A plan is necessary for every kind of speech. A rude mass of brick, lumljcr, mortar, and iron, thrown together as the materials chance to be furnished, does not consti- tute a house until each item is built into its own place according to some intelligent design. A speech has the same need of organization. A few minutes of desultory talk, whether uttered in a low or high voice, to one per- 148 SUBJECT AND OBJECT. 149 son or to many, does not make a speech. The talk may be good, or useful, or striking : it may be replete with spark- ling imagery, and full of valuable ideas that command attention, and yet be no real discourse. The question, " What was all this about ? what end did the speaker have in view?" is a fatal condemnation. The subject and object of every discourse should be perfectly obvious — if not at the opening, surely at the close of the address. The only safe method is to have a well-defined plan marked out from beginning to end, and then to bring every part of the Avork into subordination to one leading idea. The plan itself should be constructed with some clear object in view. It is better that this construction of the plan should be completed before delivery begins. If you are sud- denly callal to speak on some topic you have often thought over, the whole outline of the address, with a plan perfect in every part, may flash upon you in a moment, and you may speak as well as if you had been allowed months for preparation. But such cases are rare exceptions. The man who attempts, on the spur of the moment, to arrange his facts, draw his inferences, and en- force his opinions, will usually fii)d the task very difficult, even if the topic is within his mental grasp, and his mem- ory promptly furnishes him with all necessary materials. We will now consider the svhject and object which every true discourse, Avhatcver its character, must possess. I.jO extempoui: .si'eecii. First, as to the object : why is it that at a partioular time au audience assembles and sits in silence, while one man standing uj), talks to them ? What is his motive in thus claiminj^ their attention ? ^lany of them may have come from mere impulse, of Avhich they could give no rational explanation, l)ut the speaker at least should have a definite purpose. A clear aim tends powerfully to give unity and con- sistency to the whole discourse, and to prevent him from wandering into endless digressions. It binds all detached parts together and infuses a common life through his address. Such a ruling aim cannot be too definitely recognized and carefully kept in view, for it is the foun- dation of the whole discourse. This object should not be too general in character. It is not enough that wo wish to please or to do good : it may be safely assumed that speakers generally wish to do both. But how shall these ends be reached? " What special good do I hope to accomplish by this address ?" When you have made the object definite, you are bet- ter preparal to adapt all available means to its accom- plishment. It should also be stated that the more objects are subdividey are able to outrun a loose speaker, arrange his scattered fragments, supply his omissions, and arrive at the idea which has not yet formal itself clearly in his own mind. Such persons often honestly commend orators who arc incomprehensible to the majority of tlicir hearers. But the opinions of such auditors are an inisafe guide, for tlicy form a very small minority of, any assembly. There is one further step w hich may sometimes pre- cede the moment of speech ^vith profit — ^the placing upon paj)er of a brief but connected sketch or statement of the whole discourse. If this is made in the ordinary writing there is danger that its slowness will make it more of a word-study than wdiat it is intended to be — a test of ideas. A thorough mastery of shorthand, or the service of some one who has such mastery, will supply this defect. If the plan is well arranged there will be lio pause in the most rapid composition, and if the w-hole discourse can at one effort be thrown into a dress of Avords there may be full assui'ance that the same thing can be accomplished still more easily and effectively when the additional stimulus of an audience is supplied. There should be no attempt, in the moment of speaking, USING THE WRITTEN PLAN. 185 to recall the very words used in writing;, but the com- mand of language will undoubtedly be greatly improved by having so recently used many of the terms that will be again required. Frequently there will be fine pas- sages in the speech which you have thus struck off at white heat that you may be uuAvilling to forget, but it is better to make no effort to remember them, for you are almost sure to rise still higher in the moment of public delivery. When this rapid writing is not available, a partial substitute for it may be found in writing in the ordinary hand a brief sketch or compact model of the whole dis- course. You will be surprised to notice how short a compass will suffice for a discourse requiring an hour or more in delivery, without the omission of a single material thought. Such a skctcli differs from the plan in clearly expressing all the ideas that underlie the coming speech, while the latter would be nearly unin- telligible to any but its author. The one is only a few marks thrown out in the field of thought by which an intended pathway is indicated ; the other is a very brief view of the thoughts themselves, without adornment or verbiage. Some speakers who might feel insecure in trusting the notes and hints of the plan would feel per- fectly safe in enlarging upon a statement of their thoughts so brief that tile whole sketcli of the speech would not require more than three or four minutes to ISG EXTEMPORE sr'KKClI. iviul. But tliis whole plan of writing, cither in full or in brief, is only an expedient, and neetl not be adoi)te(l by those mIio have full confidence in their trainal and cultivated powers. After you have prepared your plan it is well to pre- serve it for future use, which may Ix; done by copying it into a book kept for that purpose: or, what is more convenient in practice, folding the slij) of paper on which it is written into an envelope of suitable size with the subject written on the back. These may be classified and preserved, even in very large numbers, so as to be easily consultal. From time to time, as your ability grows, they may be improved upon so as to remain the complete expression of your ability on every theme treated. On the back of the envelope may also be written refer- ences to any source of additional information on the same subject, and printed or written scraps, valuable as illustrations, or for additional information, may be slipped inside. CHAPTER VI. The First Moment of Speech. Having completed all your preparations, you now anxiously aMait the commencement of the intellectual battle. This period is often a severe trial. Men who are physically brave sometimes tremble in anticipation of speedily standing before an audience. The shame of fivilure then may appear worse than death itself. As the soldier feels more of cold and shrinking terror when listening for the peal of the first gun, than afterward, Avhen the conflict deepens into blood around him, so the s})eaker usually suifers more in this moment of expect- ancy than in any that follows. You behold the danger in its full magnitude, without the inspiration that attends it. Yet whatever effort it may cost, you must remain calm and collected, for if not master of yourself, you cannot expect to rule others. Your material must be kept well in hand, ready to be used at the proper time, though it is not well to be continually canning over your preparation. That would destroy the freshness of your matter and bring you to the decisive test weary and jaded. You only need such an occasional glance as will assure you that all your material remains Avithin reach. It is seldom possible by any means to banish all fear, 187 188 EXTEMPORE SPEECH. and it is to the speaker's advantage that he cannot. His timidity arises from several causes, which ditler widely in the effects they produce. A conscious want of prepa- ration, especially when this arises from any ne<^lect or indolence, is one of the riiost distressing sources of fear. A species of remorse then mingles with the embarrass- ment natural to the moment. If the speaker has no other motive than to win reputation — to minister to his own vanity — he will feel terrified, as he realizes that shame insteiid of honor may be the result of his rash- ness. That man is fortunate who can say, " I only speak because I feel it to be duty which I dare not refuse — a work that I must perform whether well or ill." The lawyer who must defend his client, the min- ister who feels that the hour of service has arrived, the teacher in the presence of his class, are examples of those will) speak under the same kind of compulsion that calls a field laborer out into the burning heat of a July noon whether he feels like it or not. But if you are about to speak because you have intruded into the work that properly belongs to another, you need to be very sure of your preparation, for in case of failure you Avill not have even your own sympathy. But the most formidable and common foe of the speaker's, in these preliminary moments, is a general dread that can neither be analyzed nor accounted for. Persons who have never felt its poAver sometimes make THE FIRST MOMENT OF SPEECH. 189 Jiii'lit of it, but experience will change their views. The .soldier who has never witnessed a battle, or felt the air throb with the explosion of cannon, or heard the awful cries of the woundal, is often a great braggart; while " the scarred veteran of a hundred fights " never speaks of the carnival of blood without shuddering, and would be the last, but for the call of duty, to brave the danger he knows so well. There may be a few speakers who do not feel such fear, but it is because they do not know what true speaking is. They have never known the full tide of inspiration which sometimes lifts the orator far above his conceptions, but which first struggles in his own bosom like the ])ent fires of a volcano. They only come forward to relieve themselves of the interminable stream of twaddle that wells spontaneously to their lips, and can well be spared the pangs preceding the birth of a powerful and living discourse. This kind of fear belongs to every kind of oratory, but is most intense on those great occasions, in presence of large audiences, when men's passions run high. In mere instructive address, M'here thegromid has been repeatedly gone over and where the effort is mainly of an intellect- ual character, it is less noticeable. It resembles the awe felt on the eve of all great enterprises, and when exces- sive, as it is in some highly gifted minds, it constitutes an absolute bar to public s|)oech. But in most cases it is a source of inspiration rather than of repression. lUO EXTKMPORE SPEECH. There is a strange sensation often exjierienced in tlic ])rcj^enee of an autlicnce. It may ])roececl from the- gaze of the many eyes that turn upon the speiiker, especially if he j)ermit.s himself to steadily return that gaze. Most speakers have bet^n conscious of this in a nameless thrill, a real something, pervading the atmosphere, tangil)le, evanescent, indescribable. All writers have borne testi- mony to the power of a speaker's eye in impressing an audience. This influence which we are now considering is the reverse of that picture — the power their eyes may exert upon him, especially before he begins to sjxak: after the inward fires of oi'atory are fanned into fianie the eyes of the audience lose all terror. By dwelling on the object for which we speak and endeavoring to realize its full importance, we will in a measure lose sight of our personal danger, and be more likely to maintain a calm and tranquil frame of mind. No change should be made in the i)lan at the last moment, as that is very liable to i)roduce confusion. This error is often committed. The mind has a natural tendency to go repeatedly over the same ground, revising and testing every point, and it may make changes the conse- quences of which cannot be in a moment foreseen. But the necessary preparation has been made and we should now await the result calmly and hopefully. Over-study is quite possible, and when accompanied by great solici- tude wearies our mind in advance and strips the subject THE FIRST MOMENT OF SPEECH. 101 of all freshness. If the eye is fixed too long upon one object with a steadfast gaze, it loses the power to see at all. So the mind, if exerted steadily upon a single topic for a long period, fails in vigor and elasticity at the moment when those qualities are indispensable. That profound thinker and preacher, Frederick W. Robertson, experienced this difficulty and was accustomed to find relief by reading some inspiring paragraphs upon some totally different theme from that he intended to speak about. The energy and enthusiasm of our minds in the moment of speech must be raised to the highest pitch ; the delivery of a living discourse is not the dry enumeration of a list of particulars; but we must actually feel an immediate and burning interest in the topics with which we deal. This cannot be counterfeited. To clearly arrange all thoughts that belong to the subject, lay them aside when the work is done until the moment of speech, and then enter confidently upon them with only such a momentary glance as will assure us that all is right — this is the method to make our strength fully available. This confidence while in waiting seems to the beginner very difficult, but experience rapidly renders it easy. M. Bautain declares that he has been repeatedly so confident in his preparation as to fall asleep while waiting to be summoned to the pulpit ! Those who misimprove the last moments by too much thought and solicitude are not the only class of ofi'en- 192 p:xTi:Mr<)RE srEEcii. dors. Some persons, tliroutrli mere indolenee, suffer the fine lines of preparation wliieh have been traced with so much care to fade into dimness. This error is not un- frequently conunitted hy those who speak a second or third time on the samo subject. Because they have once succeeded they imagine that the same success is always at command. No mistake could be greater. It is not enough to have speech-material in a position from which it can be collected by a conscious and prolonged effijrt, but it must be in the foreground of the mind. There is no time at the moment of delivery for reviving half obliterated lines of memery. The writer once saw a notable case of failure from this cause. A preacher on a great occasion was much engrossed with other important duties until the hour apjiointed for his sermon had arriv^ed. With perfect confidence he selected a sketch from which he had preached a short time before and with the general course of which he was no doubt familiar. But when he endeavored to prmluce his thoughts they were not ready. lie became embarrassed, talked at random for a short time, and then had the candor to tell the audience that he could not finish, and to take his seat. Probably half an hour given to reviewing his plan would have made all his previous preparation fresh again, and have spared him the mortification of failure. In this last interval it is also well to care for the THE FIKST MOMENT OF SPEECH. 193 strength and vigor of the body, as its condition greatly influences all mental operations. It is said that the ])earl-diver, before venturing into the depths of the sea, always spends a few moments in deep breathing and other bodily preparations. In the excitement of speech, the whirl and hurricane of emotion, it is advisable to be well prepared for the high tension of nerve that is implied. INIental excitement exhausts and wears down the body foster than bodily labor. We must carefully husband our strength that we may be able to meet all demandh upon it. Holyoake makes the following pertinent observation in reference to this point : " Perhaps the lowest quality of the art of oratory, but one on many occasions of the first importance, is a certain robust and radiant physical health ; great volumes of animal heat. In the cold thinness of a mornino; audience mere energy and mellowness is inestimable; wisdom and learning would be harsh and unwelcome compared with a substantial man, who is quite a house- warming." Fatiguing and excessive exercise should be very care- fully avoided. Ilolyoake illustrates this from his own experience. He says : " One Saturday I walked from Sheffield to Hudders- field to deliver on Sunday two anniversary lectures. It was my first appearance there, and I was ambitious to liU EXTEMPORK .SPr.KCH, aajuit niyselt' well. But in the luorniug I was utterly unable to do more than talk half inaudibly and quite incoherently. In the evening I was tolerable, but my voice warf weak. INly annoyance was excessive. I was a paradox to mysell'. My })ower seemed to come and go by some eccentric law of its own. I ditl not find out until years after that the utter exhaustion of my strength had exhausted the powers of speech and thought, and that entire repose, instead of entire fatigue, should have been the preparation for public speaking." The last statement is somewhat too strong, for abso- lute rest is not generally advisable. It would leave the speaker, when ho bogan to spaak, with languid mind and slowly beating pulse — a state which it would require some minutes for him to overcome. A short, but brisk walk, when the health is good, will invigomte and refresh all his faculties, and often prevent a listless introduction by giving him the vigor to grasp the subject at once and launch right into the heart of it. Should any person doubt the power of exercise to produce this effect, let him, when perplexed with difficult questions in his study, start out over fields and hills, and review the matter in the open air. It is a good thing to carry the breath of the fields into the opening of our addresses. But when the speaker cannot take this form of exer- cise in the moments just preceding speech, he may easily find a substitute for it. If alone, he can pace back and THE FIRST MOMENT OF SPEECH. 195 fui'th and swing his arms until the circulation becomes brisk and pours a stream of arterial blood to the brain. Another simple exercise can be practiced anywhere, and will be of great benefit. Many persons injure themselves by speaking too much from the throat. This is caused by improper, short, and shallow breathing. To breathe properly is beneficial at any time, and does much to prevent or remedy throat and long disease. But in the beginning of a speech it is doubly important : when once under way, there will be no time to think of either voice or breath : the only safe plan, then, is to have the right mode made habitual and instinctive. This will be greatly promoted if just before beginning we breathe deeply for a few minutes, inflating the lungs to their extremities and sending the warm blood to the very tips of the fingers. Having now done all we can in advance, nothing re- mains but to rise and speak. Preparation and precau- tion are passed. Actual work — the most joyous, thrill- ing, and spiritual of all human tasks — is now to be en- tered upon. CHAPTER YII. The Introduction. The time for the speeeli liaving arrived, we will now consider its separate parts. Xo division is better for our ])iirpose than that employed in a previous part of this work — a three-fold division into intro<^luction, diseussion, and conelusion. A good introduction is exceedingly valuable, and is to be sought for with great solicitude, if it does not spon- taneously present itself. S ):ne kind of an introduction is inevitable, for there will always be a first moment when silence is broken, and our thoughts introduced. The subsiding nuirnuir of the audience tells the speaker that the time of his trial has come. If he is very sensi- tive, or if he has seldom, if ever, spoken before, his pulse beats fast, his face flushes, and an indescribal)le feeling of faintness and fear thrills every nerve. He may wish himself anywhere else, but there is now no lielp for him. He must arise, and for the time stand as tiie mark for all eyes and the subject of all thoughts. There is a vast differencic between reciting and extem- porizing in these opening moments, and the advantage seems to be altogether on the side of recitation. Every word is in its })r()per place and the speaker may l)e per- 19G THE IXTKODUCTIOX. 197 fectly calm and self-collectecl. He is sure that his memory will not fail him in the opening, and encouraged by that assurance, will usually throw his whole power into his first sentences, causing his voice to ring clear and loud over the house. The extemporizer is in a far more difficult position. He is sure of nothing. The weight of the whole speech rests heavily upon his mind. He is glancing ahead, striving to forecast the coming sentences, as well as carrying forward those gliding over the tongue, and, dis- tracted by this double labor, his first expressions may be feeble and ungraceful. Yet this modesty and timidity is no real loss: it goes far to conciliate an audience and secure their good-will. We can scarcely fail to dis- tinguish memorized from extemporized discourses by the introduction alone. To avoid the pain and hesitancy of an unelaborated beginning, some speakers write and memorize the open- ing passage. Tiiis may accomplish the immediate object, but it is apt to be at the expense of all the remainder of the discourse. The mind cannot pass easily from reciting to spontaneous origination ; and the voice, being too freely used at first, loses its pf)wcr. The hearers, having list- ened to highly jiollslu'd language, are less disposed to relish the plain words that follow, and the whole speech, which, like the Alpine condor, may have pitched from the loftiest summits, falls fast and far, until the lowest i;)S kxtkmi'oim; si'Kr.cn. level is reached. A written introduction may ho modest and unpretcndini;-, hut unless it very closely imitates unstudicxl spewh, pahiful contrasts and disappointments are iucvitahle. One mode of avoiding these difficulties is to make no formal introduction, but to plunge at once into the heart of the subject. Sometimes, when the minds of speaker and hearer are already absorbed by the same general topic, as in the midst of a heated political canvass, this mode is very good. Under such circumstances, an interest may soon be aroused whicli removes all embarrassment. But usually the speaker's mind is full of a subject which is unfamiliar and indifferent to his hearers. It then behooves him to find some mode of gaining their atten- tion and sympathy before he takes the risk of arousing a prejudice against his subject which he might afterward strive in vain to overcome. If something is found which can be made to bear some relation to his subject, without too violent straining, and which already excites interest in their minds, it will be far better to begin with that, and lead them to the proper theme when their attention has been thoroughly aroused. The introduction should not he left to the chance of the moment. It may often, with great propriety, he prepared afler all other parts of the speech are planned. But with even more care than is given to any other por- tion should the introduction be prearranged. AVhen THE IXTRODUCTIOX. 199 once the wings of eloquence are fully sjiread we may soar above all obstructions ; but in starting it is well to be assured that the ground is clear about us. It is only the substance and not the words of the in- troduction that should be prepared. A single sentence may be mentally forecast, but much beyond would be harmful; and even this sentence should be simple and easily understood. Anything that needs explana- tion is very much out of place. Neither should the introduction be so striking as to be the part of the dis- course longest remembered. Rather than permit the attention to be distracted in that manner, it would be better to have no introduction. A speaker gains much if he can at the outset arrest the attention and win the sympathy of his hearers and then carry these over to his proper subject. But it may be assumed as certain, that no kind of an apology will accomplish this object — unless, indeed, the speaker is such a favorite that everything in regard to his health or position is an object of deep solicitude to his audience. A popular spcakci who happens to be late and apologizes for it by explaining that he had just escaped from a terrible railroad accident would make a good introduction. A loved pastor, in his first sermon after serious illness, might properly begin l)y talking (jf his amendment and his joy at ai^ldressing his flock again. But these are rare exceptions. The speaker about to make any kind of an 2(J() i:xi'i:.Mi"(>::i; si'i:i;( ii. apolcigv or personal rclcrcncc as an introduction, may ^\■ell hood Punch's advice to persons about to be married: " Don't." In many instances it is not easy to get the mere attcn- tiiin of an andience. They come together from many (litfcrcnt enn)loymcnts with thouglits engaged upon various topics, and it is difficult to remove distracting influences and fix all minds upon one subject. Some- times a startling proposition, in the nature of a challenge, will secure the object. Earnestness in the speaker goes flir toward it. But above everything else, sameness and monotony must be carefully avoided. When the same audience is frequently addressal, variety becomes essen- tial. The writer know of a minister who made it a rule to consider the nature, reason, and manner of his subjects, in answer to the supposed questions : " What is it? Why is it? How is it?" The eloquence of Paul could not oflen have redeemed the faults of such an arrangeincut. Some inattention may be expected and patiently borne ^vi(h at first. Part of the opening words may be lost — an additional reason for not making them of capital im- portance to the address. It is useless to try by loud tones and violent manner to dispel indifference. If the h j)eaker's words have real weight, and if his manner indi- cates confidence, one by one the audience will listen, until that electric thrill of sympathy, impossible to describe, • THE IXTRODUCTIOX. 201 but which is as evident to the practiced orator as an accord in music, tells him that every ear is open to his words, and that his thoughts are occupying every mind. Then the orator's power is fully developed, and if him- self and his theme are equal to the occasion it is delight- ful to use that power. This silent, pulsating interest is more to be desired than vehement applause, for it cannot be counterfeited, and it indicates that the heart of the assembly has been reachetl and melted by the fire of eloquence, and is now ready to bo molded into any desired form. There arc two or three general subjects available for introduction which every speaker would do well to study carefully, and which will do much to furnish him with the means of properly approaching his theme, AVe will mention the most useful of these, premising that no one mode should be depended upon to the exclusion of others. A good mode of introduction consists in a compliment to an audience. When a truthful and manly compliment can l)e given it is a most pleasant and agreeable step toward the good-will of those we address; but if used on all occasions indiscriminately, it is meaningless ; if trans- parently false, it is repulsive and disgusting ; but when true, there is no reason why it should not be employed. There are several good introductions of the compli- mentary character in tlie 24th and 2Gth chapters of Acts. When the orator, Terlullns, accused Paul, he began by 202 EXTKMl'OKE SPEKfll. skillful, but, fmin the standpoint of his clients, very in- sincvro flattery : *'S('('in[P()i;i^ speix'II. spirits many relaxations from toil ; we have regular frames and sacrilices tliron;j;li(»ut the year; at home the style of our life is refiuetl ; and the delight whieh we daily feel in all these things helps to banish melancholy. Because of the greatness of our city the fruits of the whole earth How in upon us ; so that we enjoy the goods of other countries as freely as of our own. " Then, again, our military training is in many respects superior to that of our adversaries. Our city is thrown open to the world, and we never expel a foreigner or prev^ent him from seeing or learning anything of which the secrect if revealed to an enemy might profit him. We rely not upon management or trickery, but upon our own hearts and hands. And in the matter of education, whereas they from early youth are always undergoing laborious exercises which are to make them brave, we live at ease, and yet are equally ready to face the perils which they face. And here is the proof. The Lace- daemonians come into Attica not by themselves, but with their whole confederacy following ; we go alone into a neigh])or's country ; and although our opponents are fighting for their homes and we on a foreign soil, we have seldom any difficulty in overcoming them. Our enemies have never yet felt our united strength ; the care of a navy divides our attention, and on land we are obliged to send our own citizens everywhere. But they, if they meet and defeat a part of our army, are as proud a.s if they had routed us all, and when defeated they pretend to have been vanquished by us all. " If, then, we prefer to meet danger with a light heart but without laborious training, and with a courage which THREE PLANS OF GREAT ADDRESSES. 223 is gained by habit and not enforced by law, are we not greatly the gainers? Since Ave do not anticipate the pain, although, Avhen the hour comes, we can be as brave as those who never allow themselves to rest ; and thus too our city is equally admirable in peace and in war. For we are lovers of the beautiful, yet simple in our tastes, and we cultivate the mind without loss of manli- ness. Wealth we employ, not for talk and ostentation, but when there is a real use for it. To avow poverty with us is no disgrace ; the true disgrace is in doing nothing to avoid it. An Athenian citizen does not neg-lect the State because he takes care of his own house- hold ; and even those of us who are engaged in business have a very fair idea of politics. We alone regard a man who takes no interest in public affairs, not as a harmless, but as a useless character ; and if few of us are originators, we are all sound judges of a policy. The great impediment to action is, in our opinion, not dis- cussion, biit the want of knowledge which is gained by disciL«sion preparatory to action. For we have a peculiar power of thinking before we act and of acting too, whereas other men are courageous from ignorance but hesitate u])on reflection. And they are surely to be esteemed the bravest spirits who, having the clearest sense lx)th of the pains and pleasures of life, do not on that account shrink from danger. In doing good, again, we are unlike others ; we make our friends by conferring, not by receiving favors. Now he who confei's a favor is the firmer friend, because he would fain by kindness keep alive the memory of an obligation ; but the recipient is colder in his feelings, because he knows that in requit- 224 EXTr.>fi'oiM: spi:i:cii. inn; another's j^f^'icrosity lie will not \)0 winnino; gratitudo but only payimj; a dohl. A\'o alone do good to our neighbors not upon a calnilation of" interest, but in the eonfidenee of freedom and in a frank and fearless sj)irlt. To sum up : I say that Athens is the school of Helhis, and that the individual Athenian in his own person seems to have the power of adapting himself to the most varied forms of action -with the utmost versatility and grace. This is no j)assing and idle word, but truth and fact ; and the assertion is verified by the position to which these ([ualities have raised the State, For in the hour of trial Athens alone among her contemj)oraries is superior to the report of her. No enemy who comes against her is indignant at the reverses which he sustains at the hands of such a city ; no subject complains that his masters are unworthy of him. And we shall assuredly not bo without witnesses ; there are mighty nKmuments of our power which will make us the wonder of this and of succeeding ages ; we shall not need the praises of Homer or of any other panegyrist whose poetry may j)lease for the moment, although his representation of the facts will not bear the light of day. For we have compelled every land and every sea to open a path for our valor, and have everywhoro plantal eternal memorials of our friend- ship and of" our enmity. Such is the city for whose sake these men nobly fought and died; they could not bear the thought that she might be taken from them; and every one of us who survive shoidd gladly toil on her behalf. " I have dwelt upon the greatness of Athens because I want to show you that we are contending for a higher prize than those who enjoy none of these privileges, and THREE PLANS OF GREAT ADDRESSES. 225 to establish by manifest proof the merit of these men whom I am now commemorating. Their loftiest praise has been already spoken. For in magnifying the city I have magnified them, and men like them whose virtues made her glorious. And of how few Hellenes can it bo said as of them, that their deeds when weighed in the balance have been found equal to their fame ! ISIcthinks that a death such as theirs has been gives the true measure of a man's worth ; it niav be the first revelation of his virtues, but is at any rate their final seal. For even those who come short in other ways may justly plead the valor with which they have fouglit for their country ; they have blottal out the evil with the good, and have benefited the State more by their pnbl;c ser- vices than they have injured her by their private actions. None of these men were enervated by wealth or hesitated to resign the pleasures of life ; none of them put off the evil day in the hope, natural to poverty, that a man, though poor, may one day become rich. But, deeming that the punishment of their enemies was sweeter than any of these things, and that they could fall in no nobler cause, they determined at the hazard of their lives to be honorably avenged, and to leave the rest. They resigned to hope their unknown chance of happiness ; but in the faceof death they resolved to rely upon themselves alone. And when the moment came they were minded to resist and suffer, rather than to fly and save their lives ; they ran away from the word of dishonor, but on the battkv field their feet stood fast, and in an instant, at the hoi"ht of their fitrtune, they passed away from the scene, not of their fear, but of their glory. 226 EXTEMronr: spKEoir. "Such was the end of these men ; they were worthy of Athens, and the living need not desire to have a more lieroie sj)irit, aUhough they may pray for a less fatal issue. The value of such a spirit is not to be expressed in words. Any one can discourse to you forever about the advantages of a brave defense which you know already. But instead of listening to him I would have you day by day fix your eyes upon the greatnass of Athens, until you become filled with the love of her ; and when you are impressed by the spectacle of her glory, reflect that this empire has been acquired by men who knew their duty and had the courage to do it, who in the hour of conflict had the fear of dishonor always j)resent to them, and who, if ever they failed in an enter- ])rise, would not allow their virtues to be lost to their country, but frtH'ly gave their lives to her as the fairest oifering which they could present at her feast. The sacrifice which they collectively made was individually repaid to them ; for they receiveil again each one for himself a praise which grows not old, and the noblest of all sepulchres — I speak not of that in which their remains are laid, but of that in which their glory sur- vives, and is proclaimed always and on every fitting occasion })oth in word and deed. For the whole earth is the sf pulchre of famous men ; not only are they com- memorated by columns and inscriptions in their own country, but in foreign lands there dwells also an un- written memorial of them, graven not on stone but in the hearts of men. Make them your examples, and, esteeming courage to be freedom and freedom to be hap- piness, do not Aveigh too nicely the perils of war. The THEEE PLANS OF CF.EAT ADDRESSES. 227 unfortunate who has no hope of a change fur the better has less reason to throw away his life than the prosper- ous, who, if he survive, is always liable to a change for the worse, and to whom any accidental fall makes the most serious difference. To a man of spirit, cowardice and disaster coming together are far more bitter than death, striking him unperceived at a time when he is full of courage and animated by the general hope. " AVherefore, I do not now commiserate the parents of the dead who stand here ; I would rather comfort them. You know that your life has been passed amid manifold vicissitudes, and that they may be deemed for- tunate who have gained most honor, Avhether an honor- able death like theirs, or an honorable sorrow like yours, and whose days have been so ordered that the term of their happiness is likewise the term of their life. I know how hard it is to make you feel this, when the good fortune of others will too often remind you of the gladness which once lightened your hearts. And sorrow is felt at the want of those blessings, not Mhich a man never knew, but which were a part of his life before they were taken from him. Some of you are of an age at whicli they may hope to have other children, and they ought to bear their sorrow better ; not only will the children who may hereafter be born make them forget their own lost ones, but the city will be doubly a gainer. She will not be left desolate, and she will be safer. For a man's counsel cannot have equal weight or worth when he alone has no children to risk in the general danger. To tliose of you who have passed their jirime, I say, ' Congratulate yourselves that you liave been 228 KX'PKMPoKi-; si'i::i:(i[. happy during the greater part of your days ; remember that your life of sorrow will not hist long, and be com- forted by the gh)ry of those who are gone. For the love of honor ah)ne is ever young, and not riclics, as some say, but lionor is tlie delight of men when they are old and useless.' " To you who arc the sons and brothers of the de- parted, I see that the struggle to enudate them will be an arduous one. For all men praise the dead, and how- ever pre-eminent your virtue may be, hardly will you be thought, I do not say to equal, but even to approach them. The living have their rivals and detractors, but when a man is out of the way, the honor and good-will which he receiv^es is unalloyed. And, if I am to speak of womanly virtues to those of you who will henceforth bo widows, let me sum them up in one short admonition : To a woman not to show more weakness than is nafural to her sex is a grejit glory, and not to be talked about for good or for evil among men. " I have paid the required tribute, in obedience to the law, making use of such fitting W'Ords as I had. The tribute of deeds has been paid in part ; for the dead have been honorably interred, and it remains only that their children should be maintained at the public charge until they are grown up: this is the solid prize with M'hich, as with a garland, Athens crowns her sons, living and deiid, after a struggle like theirs. For where the rewards of virtue are greatest, there the noblest citizens are enlisted in the service of the State. And now, when you have duly lamented, every one his own dead, you may depart." THREE PLANS OF GREAT ADDRESSES. 229 We next present the sketch of a sermon by Rev. C. H, Spurgeon, and part of the sermon itself. This is the more instructive, as the plan was prepared substantially in the ^vay we have advised, and the sermon preached extemporaneously from it. "LOVE AND I"— A MYSTERY. A SERMON BY C. H. SPURGEON. [From Homilelie Monthly, Nov., 1882.'] PuiiPIT NOTE6 USED BY SpUBGEON. John xvii, 2G. Our Lord praying with His disciples at the last. Tills the climax of the prayer. In the deep, scratching the ground, get a harvest. Here the final ivord is love and union with "I." Lord, what a subject. I. The Food of Love. 1. Knowledge. 2. Knowledge given by Christ. 3. Knowledge gradually increasing. If.. Knowledge distinguishing its from the world, 5. Knowledge of Uie name. Righteous Father. Holiness, goodness, mercy, love. II. The Love Itself. 1. It is not love toivard us but in us. 2. It is not love from the wells of the creature. 3. It is a recognition of Father's love to the Son. It is a sense of the Father's love to us. It is a reflection upon Jesus of the Father's love. It is a beaming f 01-th of love all arotind. 230 EXTEMI'OUK 81'EECH. ^. It ha^ the most blcHsed results. Expulsive, rcj)ulsive, impulsive. Menders supremely happy, brave, patient, elevated. III. The Compaxiox of Love. Love and I. Jesus sure to he where thzre ij lore, fdilli, the Spirit, God. Christ ever near. Believer ever safe. Believer should render good entertainment. It will bt; noticed that tho prcucliar't; subject is Christ and love dwelling in tlu hnman heart; the object is to iiidnee those wlio have this love to appreciate it more highly, and all others to seek it. We give only the i.i- troduction and the third division (which is also thecou- c hision), together widi a part of the first division, as the Avhole discourse is too long to be quoted here. It may be added that these notes and the development of these ])arts are fair specimens of the manner in which the great Londcjn j^reacher prepares and delivers his dis- courses. Text. — I have declared u.iio tlicm Thy name, and ic'dl declare it; that the love tvherewiih Thou has loved me may be in them, and I in them. — John xvii, 2G. " For several Sal)bath mornings my mind has been directed into subjects which I might fitly call the deep things of God. I think I have never felt my own in- competence more fully than in trying to handle such subjects. It is a soil into which one may dig and dig as deep as ever you will, and still never cxhaast the golden THREE PLANS OF GREAT ADDRESSES. 231 \iuo;o^ets which lie within it. I am, however, comforted by this fact, that these subjects are so fruitful that even we who can only scratch the surface of them shall yet get a harvest from them. I read once of the plains of India that they were so fertile that you had only to tickle them with the hoe and they laughed with plenty ; and surely such a text as this may be described as equally fruitful, even under our feeble husbandry. Pearls lie on the surface here as well as in the depth. We have only to search its surface, and stir the soil a little, and we shall be astonished at the plentitude of spiritual wealth which lies before us. Oh ! that the Spirit of God may help us to enjoy the blessed truths Avhich are herein set forth ! Here is the priceless treasure, but it lies hid till He reveals it to us. " You see, this text is taken out of our Lord's last prayer with His disciples. He did as good as say, ' I am about to leave you ; I am about to die for you ; and for a while you will not see me ; but now, before we separate, let us pray.' It is one of those impulses that you have felt yourselves. When you have been about to part from those you love, to leave them, poi'haps, in danger and difficulty, you have felt you could do no less than say, ' Let us draw nigh uito God.' Your heart found no way of expressing itself at all so fitting, so congenial, so satisfactory, as to draw near luito the great Father and spread the case before Him. Now a prayer from such a one as Jesus, our Ijord and Master — a prayer in such a company, with the eleven whom He had chosen, and who had consorted with Him from thj beginning, a prayer under sucli circumstances, v, hen He 2o2 EXTEMPORE SPEECH. was just on tlie brink of tlie brook of Ccdron, and was about to cross tliat gloomy stream and go up to Calvary, anil there hiy down His life — such a prayer as this; so living, earnest, loving, and divine, deserves the most studious meditations of all believers. I invite you to bring hither your best thoughts and slcill lor the navi- gation of this sea. It is not a creek or bay, but the main ocean itself. We cannot hope to futlujui its depths. This is true of any sentence of this matchless prayer, but for me the work of exposition becomes unusually heavy, because my text is the close and climax cA' this marvelous su])plication, it is tlic; central mystery of all. In the lowest depth there is still a lower deep, and this verse is one of those deeps which still exceed the rest, (^h ! how much we want the Spirit of God ! Pray for His l>edewing ; pray that His balm}' influences may de- scend upon us richly now. " You will observe that the last word of our Lord's prayer is concerning love. This is the last petition which He offers, ' That the love wherewith Thou hast loved me may be in them, and I in them.' He reaches no greater height than this, namely, that His people be filial with the Father's love. How could He rise higher? For this is to be filled with all the fullness of God, since God is love, and he that lovetli dwelleth in God and God in him. AVhat importance ought you and I attach to the grace of love ! How highly we should esteem that which Jesus makes the crown jew^el of all. If we have faith, let us not be satisfied unless our faith worketh l)y love and ])urifietli the soul. Let us not be content, indeed, until the love of Christ is shed abroad in our THREE PLANS OF GREAT ADDRESSES. 233 hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us. Well did the poet say, * Only love to us be given ; Lord, we ask no otlier Heaven;' for indeed there is no other Heaven below, and scarcely is there any other Heaven above than to reach to the fullness of perfect love. This is where the prayer of the Son of David ends, in praying ' that the love wherewith Thou hast loved me may be in them.' What a subject! The highest that even our Lord Jesus readied in His noblest prayer. Again with groanings my heart cries, Holy Spirit, help ! " I. First, THE FOOD OF [.OVE TO GoD : What is it? It is knowledge. ' I have made known unto them Thy name, and will make it known.' We cannot love a God whom we do not know ; a measure of knowledge is needful to affection. However lovely God may be, a man blind of soul cannot perceive Him, and therefore is not touched by His loveliness. Only when the eyes are opened to behold the loveliness of God will the heart go out toward God, who is so d(isirable an object for the affections. Brethren, we must know in order to believe; we must know in order to liope ; and we must esj^ecially know in order to love. Hence the great desirableness that you should know the T^ord and His great love which passeth knowledge. Yon cannot reciprocate love wliicli you have never known, even as a man cannot derive strength from food which he has not eaten. Till first of all the love of God has come into your heart, and yon have been made a j)artaker of it, you cannot nju'uv 234 EXTEMPORE SPEECIT. in it or return it. Therefore our Lord took care to feed His disciples' hearts upon the Father's name. He hil)orepy) ones really are; v, 2-12. 2. The position of the blessed ; v, 13-lG. 3. The Old Kingdom not to be destroyed by the New; V, 17-20. I. Contrasts Between the Old and New Kingdoms Concerning Things Forbidden. 1. The law against Killing; v, 21-26. 2. " " " Adultery ; v, 27-32. 242 EXTEMPOlii: Sl'KKCll. 3. The law against Profanity ; v, 33-37. 4. " " " Injuries; v, 38-48. II. Contrasts Concerning Practical. Duties. 1. Almsgiving ; vi, 2—4. 2. Prayer; vi, 5-15. [Exanij)le — the Lord's Prayer.] 3. Fasting; vi, 16-18. 4. Treasure-gathering; vi, 19-34. III. How Subjects of the New Kingdom SHOULD REGARD OTHER PERSONS. 1. With charity in word and action; vii, 1-12. 2. But with caution ; influence of numbers and of false teachers de])recated ; vii, 1 3—23. Conclusion. — The whole subjec't illustrated by the evil consequences of building a house upon a foundation of sand, and the good conse- quences of building it upon a rock. CHAPTER X. Illustrations, Pathos, Humor. All popular and effective discourses must possess at least one of the above qualities. In ordinary speeches they do not present themselves spontaneously, but must be sought out with diligence and perseverance. Some speakers find it easy to sparkle with illustrations and to indulge in humor and pathos, but others can only suc- ceed in that direction with painful toil. We wish now to consider a few of the methods by wliicli they can be secured when they do not present themselves spon- taneously. The need of abundant illustrations has been felt in all kinds of address and many efforts have been made to supply them. A number of books have been pub- lished in which illustrations have been gathered from a wdde range of literature, and catalogual for use. The speaker may employ these cautiously with great profit ; and no longing for an originality, which, after all, can never be absolute, should deter him. The labor of searching for one or two illustrations of an important thought may be greater than that devoted to tlie prepa- ration of the whole speech, but it is labor very profitably employed. While thinking what any particular thing 243 244 EXTEMPOIIK .SPKKCII. is like, our conception of the thing itself and of all the ideas that cluster around it, will become much more vivid. Pvvcn the illustrations we reject may have great value in sharpening our ct)nceptions of the difference between the thing investigateil and all other things of a similar character. But it is not enough to search for similes and figures among ready-made selections. All we know, hear, and read, may be passed in mental review for the purpose of seeing what truth it Mill vividly set forth. If w'e assume that our speeches must be illustrattxl, and spend much time in seeking for good illustrations, changing those we have used for better ones whenever possible, we will come to " think double," that is, to see the like- ness that exist in all objects to something else. The habit of doing this grows with practice. If we pass our addresses in review asking ourselves, " What points did we fail to make strong and intelligible for want of good illustrations?" we will be able both to see our de- fects in tills line and the means of remedying them. There should be a very careful record of these treasures made, for w ith tlie majority of speakers nothing else is so precious. Scraps from newspapers, sentences copied into common- place books, all kinds of memoranda which direct atten- tion to a happy figure heard in conversation, encountered in reading, or thought of, will be exceedingly valuable. ILLUSTIiATIOXS, PATHOS, IIUMOIl. 24o It is possible to have too many illustrations, but for one speaker who labors under this disadvantage nine have not enough. A bad illustration — one which is cloudy, tame, in bad taste, or which does not illuminate or enforce some part of our subject — is worse than none at all. It should be throv\n out and its place supplied with something better. The power to touch the heart, and as an evidence of deep feeling to cause tears to flow, is greatly sought by orators, and, strange as it may seem, is highly enjoyed by audiences. There is a luxury in aroused feelings and multitudes will throng to the church or hall where they are made to weep. If the effort for such effects is car- rietl too far, it will become unmanly and maudlin ; but in proper bounds it is a genuine oratorical resource. Plow shall a reasonable degree of pathos be brought into our discourses ? Incidents which involve great or heroic suffering an2 EXTEMl'^liK SPEECH. tlu'v also n\s(Miil)l(' each otlior. If one thing equals a scroml, hut does not e(|ual a third, then the seconct and third do not equal e;i('h other. In the syllogism two eoniparisons are made and the resulting agreement or disagreement is expressed in the conelusion. Thus : Corrupt men are bad eitizens. Men buying or selling votes are corrupt men. Therefore, men buying or selling votes arc bad citizens. Here the class of corrupt men agrees with the class of bad citizens ; it also agrees with the class who buy or sell votes ; now, as it agrees with each of the two classes, it is certain that those two classes also agree with each other. This is the plain form of the syllogism. The followino- is an instance of disagreement : Good citizens are patriotic men. Traitors are not patriotic. Therefore, traitors are not good citizens. When an agreement and disagreement are thus stated in the first and second lines, the result stated in the third line mast be a disagreement. But if the first and second linei both state disagreements no result can be drawn, for there is more than one mode of disagreement. This may be illustrated by the case of two witnesses to the THE orator's logic. 253 same circumstance. If both tell the truth their stories M'ill agree; if one tells the truth and the other does not, their stories disagree ; but if neither tells the truth, their stories may or may not agecc — that is, they may tell the same falsehood or diiferent kinds of falsehood. In the syllogism it is necessary to see that the com- parisons made are real and not fictitious. False logic or fallacies arise where a comparison seems to be made which is not real. Part of one thing or class may be compared with the whole of another, and then an agree- ment affirmed or denied for the whole of the two things or classes, and this fatal fault in reasoning may be very carefully concealed. It can usually be detected by turn- ing around the sentence in which the defective compari- son is made. Thus : Men are animals. Horses are animals. Therefore, men are horses. This seems to be a perfectly fair specimen of correct syllogisms. But in the first line the class " men " is compared with only a part of the cla^s " animals," and in the second line the whole of the class " horses " is compared with another part of the class " animals," and as the comparison is not restricted to the same objects no statement of agreenusnt or disagreement can be made. We detect the insufficiency of the comparison by saying, 2.")1 KXTKMPOPvK si'Kr.cir. it is true thai all iiiiii arc animals, l>ut not true that all animals are men. Another mode of making a seeming comparison without the reality is hy using words in unlike senses. Thus : All light bodies dispel darkness. A bag of feathers is a light body. Therefore, a bag of feathers will dispel darkness. To guard against this and all similar fallacies it is only necessary to notice whether the comparison is fair and complete. l*raetice will give great expertness in doing this, even when the comparison is implied rather than expresscxl. Indeed, the greater part of reasoning lies outside the range of formal logic. The orator ^ho Mould reduce each argument to a syllogistic form Avould be considered a clown endeavoring to make sport, of, or for his au- dience. A statement is oft >n made which depends for its validity upon a compari -on or even a series of com- parisons either flashing through the mind at the mo- ment, or recallal as having previously been made. To this there can be no objection, jirovidal such compari- sons are obvious and indisputable. If a chain of rea- soning rests upon the understanding that all men desire to be happy, it will \)G just as forcible as if that truism w^cre statal or proved. Anything which an au- THE orator's logic. 255 (lience will accept without question is only weakenal by the processes of proof. Something must be taken for granted in all kinds of argument, and the wider the domain of such assumptions can be fairly made the bet- ter for the interest and effectiveness of the arguments which follow. A syllogism in which one of the essential parts is left to be supplied in the mind is called an enthymeme, and is the most common of all forms of reasoning. When- ever we state a fact, and adduce a reason for that fact, it takes this form. As an instance, we may give the beati- tudes in the fifth chapter of St. Matthew. In each m'c have a declaration made and a reason given for that declaration, but that reason would have no necessary validity were it not for a well-understood principle, upon which, in each case, it is founded. When it is said, " Blessed are the poor in spirit ; for theirs is the king- dom of heaven," we mentally add, or concede even with- out thinking it, " whoever has the kingdom of heaven is blessed." The same declaration may be put in logiad form, thus* : Whoever possesses the kingdom of heaven is blessed. The poor in spirit possess the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, they are bl(«seerhaps the majority of cases — the labor would outweigh the profit. Xo such obja-tion applies to reviewing and correcting a verbatim report of our speeches. To many speakers such a review of the exact words they have uttered would be a striking and not altogether pleasing revela- tion. Pet })hrases, which might otherwise be unnoticed for years ; faults of expression, and especially the pro- fuseness of words, in which extemporaneous speakers are tempted to indulge; — would all be forced upon our notice. We would be surprised to learn that we could often write the discourse in one-fourth the words employed in delivery. To form the habit of thus condensing our sj)eeches after delivery would have a powerful tend- ency toward compacting thought in speech itself. The only hindrance in applying this capital means of im- provement consists in the difficulty of obtaining such shorthand reports. Where this cannot be overcome a part of the advantage may be gained by taking the plan and from it writing out the same kind of a compact pre- sentation of the thoughts as uttered. This differs from writing in full by making no effort to record exact words or forms of expression, but only to recall from memory and from the sketch the exact thoughts that were expressed in the language of the moment. Even AFTER THE SPEECH. 267 if the same kind of brief sketch has been made previous to the act of speech, this does not take the place of what we now recommend ; for the former outline may have l)een greatly modified by the experience of delivery. In whatever form the best result of the discourse is recorded, great care should be taken in its preservation. The plan, sketch, or fully written discourse may be slipped into an envelope (which may also contain all illustrative scraps, notes, or references to books that bear upon the discourse) and on the back may be written the title, time, and characterof delivery, with any other facts of importance. If the young speaker will faithfully follow up such a method of recording the results of his oratorical experience, he will find it one of the best forms of discipline, and the record itself — carefully indexed, frequently reviewed, and kept within reasonable bulk — will in time possess a value greater than gold. FINIS. ALPHABETICAL INDEX. PAGE Author's own experience, 23 Advice to readers of discoui-ses, 29 Ancients and moderns, 34 Augustine, 34 Antony's speech analyzed, 57 Articulation, IIS Action in gesture, 122 Architecture of continuous thought, 130 Arrangement of thought, KM Burdens of the extempore speaker, 13 Beecher, H, W., 40 Brutus' speech analyzed, ^)i Benevolent emotion, *J7 Bautain's comparison, 1(>1 "Behold," 1G5 Bodily vigor, 193 Books of illustration, 243 Beatitudes in syllogistic form, 255 Coldness of reading explained, 23 Composite discour-e, 25 Cicero, 33 Chatham, Lord, 30 Clay, 40 Calhoun, 40 Critical taste must not be too high, 44 Conclusion, 49 Cultivating emotional power, 95 Conversation, 105 Correcting faults of voice, 119 26!) '270 ALIMIAHETKAL INDEX. PikGE Correcting fiiults of gesture, 122 Conlidence acquired 125 Confidence, fiilse and true, 127 Confidence, jiower of, 128 Confidence while silent before an audience, 129 Changing i)lan at hist moment, 190 Complimentary introductions, 201 Citations as introductions, 204 Calamity frum bad introductions, 205 Climax, law of, 208 Crisis of discourse, 211 Concluding, three ways of, 215 Conclusion should have no new matter, 215 Classification, 250 Correcting shorthand reports, 26G Demosthenes, 33 Discussion, 48 Dean Swift's sermon, 53 Discussion in a free state, C6 Disease as a hindrance, 81 Disqualifications summed up, 86 Drill on the elementary sounds, IJG Duty as a remedy tor fear, 126 Divisional or military plan, 168 Deep breathing, 195 DifTuseness remedied, 209 Definition in speech, 249 Division in speech, 249 Eloquence can be taught, 9 Eloquence, degrees of, 11 Essay of speech, 29 Extempore speech in schools, 65 Education ia the popular sense, 89 Extempore sj)eech cultivates reason, 94 Emotion and the will, 98 ALPHABETICAL INDEX. 271 V\np. Etymology, use of, 104 Empty speeches, 212 Enriching extempore speech, 247 First speech, 4(3 Fear overcome, G8 Fluency and accuracy contrasted, 103 Failure, a preacher's, 158 Five principles of introduction, 205 Funeral speech pronounced by Pericles, 218 Fallacies in reasoning, 253 Gladstone, W. E., 41 Gladstone, letter from, 42 Gibbon's militia service, . 92 Gathering thought, 159 Grasping the subject in a single idea, 183 Great addresses, three plans of, 217 Good results from a poor speech, 2G4 Heal thfiilness of extempore speech, 19 Hortensius, 33 Heroic self-denial in speech, 156 Holyoke's experience, 193 Henry Clay's eloquence, 214 Humor and pathos, 246 Humor cultivated, 246 Introduction, 46, 106 Impromptu speeches, 49 Initial fear, 60 Increasing thought-power, 90 Intellectual emotion, 95 Imagination, 109 Imagination in the Bible, 109 Instructive addresses, 141 272 ALIMIAHETICAI, INDKX. Pa<;k Introilui'tion memorized, 1!)7 Introdiutioii needed, 198 Introductions, kinds of, 199 Keeping the speech fresh, 192 Luther, 35 Literary societies, G7 Language, 101 Laws in language, 102 Loudness, IIJ Lawyers, I'iO Lawyers not writers of speeches, 140 Lectures, platform, anniversary, and lyceum, 141 Lecture with varying titles, 105 Logical or mathematical plans, 1G8 Local allusions as introductions, 203 Language adapted to oratory, 210 Luxury of tears, 245 Logic for the orator, 248 Logic, its narrowness, 248 Lessons of speech, 263 Mental weakness, 79 Memorizing original and selected gems, 104 Mental picture painting, 110 Method of gathering and retaining thought, 102 Military plans, 1G8 Marks of a good plan, 171 Nerves quieted, 47 Natural orators, 74 Nature in the voice, 118 Narrative plans, 167 Naming divisions in advance, 173 Need of illustrations, 243 ALPHABETICAL INDEX. 273 PAGE Oratory, natural and acquired, 13 Oratory of ornament, 28 Object of speech, 150 Objection to using plan in public, 178 Opponent's position studied, 257 Prejudice, grounds for, 9 Popular desire for extempore speech, 19 Pericles, C4 Pericles, funeral speech by 218 Pitt, William, 36 Patrick Henry 37 Plan of speech on Chinese immigration, 50 Persons who cannot extemporize, 75 Pronunciation, 103 Poetry of science, 112 Poetry described, 112 Persuasion in preaching, 137 Pen and tongue, 145 Power of memory, 145 Pen in gathering and arranging, 14G Pen in preserving speeches, 146 Plan in all discourses, 148 Plan, importance of a good, 166 Plans, varieties of, 167 Plan, marks of a good, 171 Plan, how to use, 177 Plan to be memorized, 180 Preserving the plan after speaking, 186 Passage from introduction to discussion, 207 Pleasure of speaking well, 207 Principles of logic, 249 Readers deceive themselves, 31 Recitations emotional, 32 Robertson, Frederick W., 37 Rude speech plans, r<0 274 ALIMIAHKTIPAL INDEX. PAGE Housing energy at the last moment, 191 Recited and extemporized introductions, 19G Host after speech, 262 llepeating and amending speeches, 265 Sydney Smith's sermon, 29 Spurgeon, 40 Spurgeon, sermon by, 230 Simplest framework, 46 Sketch containing three words, 02 Sketch memorized, 52 Sketch on the ocean, 53 Stimulus of controversy, 67 Sketches on the annexation of Cuba, 69 Seeing with our own eyes, 92 Source of Greek eloquence, 96 Sentence-casting, 131 Seductive but misleading methods, 133 Sermons, • . 136 Sermon texts, 136 Subject and object compared, 152 Subject definite, 153 Sydney Smith "sticking to his text," 157 Sermon on Mars' Hill 169 Sermon dryness, 174 Shorthand, use of, 184 Speech as a battle, 187 "Stage fright," ISO Sermon by Ilev. C. J I. Spurgeon, 230 Sermon on the Mount, 241 Sources of illustrations, 244 Syllogisms, 251 Syllogisms abbreviated, 255 Seeking praise, 265 Training, effects of, 10 Time saving, 24,175 ALPHABETICAL INDEX. 275 PAGE Transition, 48 Three classes of men in respect to eloquence, 74 Timidity may be overcome, 77 Thought and emotion, 87 Thought-gathering, 159 Textual plans, 167 Tertullus, 201 Topics of the day as introductions, 203 Things seen, heard, or imagined as introductions, . . . 205 Taylor, the Methodist missionary, 258 Unconscious gesticulation, 124 Use of other speakers' sketches, 171 Voice and gesture, 114 Various fields of oratory, 135 Why extempore speech is emotional, 22 Whitefield, 38 Wesley, 38 Webster, 40 Written composition a hindrance and a help, 45 Writer's first speech, 61 Weak voices, 76 Wordless men, 83 Waiting for the moment of beginning, 189 Webster, anecdote of, 203 Writing after delivery, 265 NATIONAL SCHOOL OF ELOCUT ION AND OR ATORY. PUBLICATION DEPARTMENT. PRACTICAL ELOCUTION, By J. W. Shoemaker, A. M. This work, as its name imports, is a condensed yet compreliensive treatment ol'tlie wliole subject of elocution, giving brief consideration to all the topics bearing upon natural expression, with exercises illustrative of the several departments. 12nio. Cloth, 20u pages, §1.25. ELOCUTIONIST'S ANNUAL. 11 Numbers now ready. Each number contains pieces suitable for the holidays, school exhibitions, lyce- iirns and literary societies, private readings, anniversaries, church and Sunday/school ffatlierutfjs, educational, temperance, and politi- cal nieetinf/s, and a large and varied list of selections for public and professional entertainments; and, as a supplementary reading-book, is especially adapted to the wants of higher classes in schools. 200 pages. Paper binding, 35 cents; cloth binding, 75 cents; green and gold, 81.C0. BEST THINGS FROM BEST AUTHORS. 3 Volumes. Each volume is composed of tliree numbers of The ElocutionisVs Annual in the order of issue, comprising the latest and best productions of the most popular English and American writers of to-day, together with the choicest selections of standard literature adapted to reading in pub- lic and private. 600 pages. Cloth binding, §1.50 ; green and gold, f2.00; flexible morocco, f2.50. ORATORY. An able and instructive discourse by Rev. Henry Ward Beecher. Limp cloth, 25 cents. THE WHITE SUNLIGHT OP POTENT WORDS. A scholarly and eloquent oration on the characteristics of effective public dtlivery, by Dr. John S. Macintosh. Limp cloth, 25 cents. ELOCUTIONARY CHARTS! Table of Vocal Exercises. A small wall chart, 32x44 inches, hand- somely mounted. This chart presents in outline the system of voice culture employed in this Institution, and will be found of ve7\i/ circat practical value to teachers or atudcntSy and to all interested in ithis important field of art. Price, S2.00. Outline of Elocution and Analvfis of Principles. A large wall chart, 60x72 inches, handsomely mounted. Tlie arrangement of tins chart is strikiyig and suggestive, and presents a clear and practical analysis of the whole subject. Price, $5.00. The above publications for .^alc by all Booksellers and Newsdealers, or will be sent, postrpaid, upon receipt of price by the publishers. Liberal terms in quantity or for first supply to schools. Corres- pondence solicited. Addres.s, JOHN H. BECHTEL, Secretary, 1416 and 1418 CHESTNUT STREET, MicnalScliocl of Ekciitionanl Oratory, (J. W. SHOEMAKER, A. M., Founder.) xJE^'.A.xaTivdiaEajTT o^ i^srso'ia'crcTioaT. Board of Directors: WILLIAM S. Bishop Matthew Simpson, Rev. R. D. Harper, D. I).. Rev. George K. ilorris, D. D. Rev. J. R. Danforth, Edward BroolvS, Ph. D., Thomas Marsliall, Phineas Garrett, Ex-Gov. James Pollock, Hon. William A. Pile, A. G. B. Hinkle, M. D., Rev. E. F. Torrance, A. M., SCHOFIELD, President. Dr. A. P. Tompkins, Nelson F. Evans, John Douglas, Lucien B. Alexander, Hon. J. P. Wickersham, A. W. Miller, M. D., Ph. D., Col. J. A. Price, George Eastbilrn, A. M., Edward L. Pearson, Crawford Spear, John W. Francis. COURSES OF STUDY COURSE IN ELOCUTION. TJiis Course has reference to the Oj'uI Forins of Expression, and in- cludes Theory and Practice in Conversation, "Voice, Action, Reading, Dramatic Recitation, Oratory. Instruction is this Course may be taken either in class or privately, day or evening. Parliamentary Practice will be afforded throughout this Course and the Course in Oratory. COURSE IN ORATORY. 2%i« Course has reference to a thorough Classical English Education, as well as to Effective Public Delivery, it includes prominently. Con- versation, English Language, History, Rhetoric, Literature, Composi- tion, Criticism, Critical Shakespeare, Logic, Mental Science, Moral Philosophy. Students not wishing to take the entire Course in Oratory may ar- range to pursue Special studies. Quarterly terms of nine weeks each begin in October, December, February, and April. A summer term of six weeks begins in July. For further particulars send for full descriptive catalogue of sixty pages. Address, JOHN H. BECHTEL, Secretary, 1416 and 1418 Chestnut Street, PHIZADJEZPJIIA, JPA. THE LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA Santa Barbara THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE STAMPED BELOW. )0m-9,'66(G6338s8)9482 3 1205 02383 74 UC SOUTHERN REGlONAlUBRAg, F^c^u^^. Tool 062 590 3 ■•■■-:i?::i''v:';