THOUGHT-GATHERING.
After the subject upon which we are to speak has been determined the
logical order of preparation is, first, gathering material; second,
selecting what is most fitting and arranging the whole into perfect
order; third, fixing this in the mind so that it may be available for
the moment of use. These processes are not always separated in practice,
but they may be best considered in the order indicated.
When a subject is chosen and the mind fastened upon it, that subject
becomes a center of attraction and naturally draws all kindred ideas
toward it. Old memories that had become dim from the lapse of time are
slowly hunted out and grouped around the parent thought. Each hour of
contemplation that elapses, even if there is not direct study, adds to
the richness and variety of our available mental stores. The relations
between different and widely separated truths become visible, just as
new stars are seen when we gaze intently toward the evening sky. All
that lies within our knowledge is subjected to a rigid scrutiny and all
that appears to have any connection with the subject is brought into
view. Usually a considerable period of time is needed for this process,
and the longer it is continued the better, if interest in the subject is
not suffered to decline in the meanwhile.
But it is somewhat difficult to continue at this work long enough
without weariness. The capacity for great and continuous reaches of
thought constitutes a principal element in the superiority of one mind
over another. Even the mightiest genius cannot, at a single impulse,
exhaust the ocean of truth that opens around every object of man’s
contemplation. It is only by viewing a subject in every aspect that
superficial and one-sided impressions can be guarded against. But the
continuous exertion and toil this implies are nearly always distasteful,
and the majority of men can only accomplish it by a stern resolve.
Whether acquired or natural, the ability to completely “think out” a
subject is of prime necessity; the young student at the outset should
learn to finish every investigation he begins and continue the habit
during life. Doing this or not doing it will generally be decisive of
his success or failure from an intellectual point of view. Thought is a
mighty architect, and if you keep him fully employed, he will build up
with slow and measured strokes a gorgeous edifice upon any territory at
all within your mental range. You may weary of his labor and think that
the wall rises so slowly that it will never be completed; but wait. In
due time, if you are patient, all will be finished and will then stand
as no ephemeral structure, to be swept away by the first storm that
blows, but will be established and unshaken on the basis of eternal
truth.
M. Bautain compares the accumulation of thought around a subject upon
which the mind thus dwells with the development of organic life by
continuous growth from an almost imperceptible germ. Striking as is the
analogy, there is one point of marked dissimilarity. This growth of
thought is voluntary and may easily be arrested at any stage. The
introduction of a new subject or cessation of effort on the old is
fatal. To prevent this and keep the mind employed until its work is done
requires with most persons a regular and formal system. Profound
thinkers, who take up a subject and cannot leave it until it is traced
into all its intricate relations and comprehended in every part, and who
have at the same time the power of easily recalling long trains of
thought that have once passed through their mind, have less need of an
artificial method. But their case is not that of the majority of
thinkers or speakers.
We will give a method found useful for securing abundant speech
materials, and allow others to adopt it as far as it may prove
advantageous to them.
The things we actually know are not always kept equally in view.
Sometimes we may see an idea with great clearness and after a time lose
it again, while another, at first invisible, comes into sight. Each idea
should be secured when it occurs. Let each thought that arises on the
subject you intend to discuss be noted. A word or a brief sentence
sufficient to recall the conception to your own mind will be enough, and
no labor need be expended on composition or expression. After this first
gathering, let the paper be laid aside and the subject be recommitted to
the mind for further reflection. As other ideas arise let them be noted
down in the same manner and the process be thus continued for days
together. Sometimes new images and conceptions will continue to float
into the mind for weeks. Most persons who have not tried this process of
accumulation will be surprised to find how many thoughts they have on
the simplest topic. If some of this gathered matter remains vague and
shadowy, it will only be necessary to give it more time and more earnest
thought and all obscurity will vanish.
At last there comes the consciousness that the mind’s power on that
particular theme is exhausted. If we also feel that we have all the
material needed, one step further only remains in this part of the work;
the comparison of our treasures with what others have accomplished in
the same field. It may be that this comparison will show the
worthlessness of much of our own material, but it is better to submit to
the humiliation involved and be sure that we have the best that can be
furnished by other minds as well as our own. If we prefer, we may speak
when we have gathered only the materials that are already within our own
grasp and thus have a greater consciousness of originality, but such
consciousness is a delusion unless based upon exhaustive research.
Nearly all that we thus gather will be the result of previous reading,
and almost the only thing in its favor over the fresh accumulations that
we make by reading directly in the line of our subject, is the
probability that the former knowledge will be better digested.
But more frequently, after the young orator has recollected and briefly
noted all that bears upon his subject with which his own mind furnishes
him, there remains a sense of incompleteness, and he is driven to seek a
further supply. He is now hungry for new information, and on this state
there is an intellectual blessing corresponding to the moral blessing
pronounced upon those who hunger and thirst after righteousness. He
reads the works of those who have treated the same or related topics,
converses with well-informed persons, observes the world closely, still
putting down every new idea that seems to bear upon his theme. Whenever
an idea is found which supplies a felt want, it is received with great
joy. It often happens that instead of finding the very thing sought for
he strikes upon the first link of some chain of thoughts in his own mind
that leads up to what he desires, but has hitherto overlooked. The new
idea is only the more valued when it has thus been traced out.
Now, we have on paper, and often after much toil, a number of confused,
unarranged notes. They are destitute of polish, and no more constitute a
speech than the piles of brick and lumber a builder accumulates
constitute a house. Indeed, this comparison is too favorable, for the
builder has carefully calculated just what he needs for his house, and
has ordered those very things. But usually we have in our notes much
that can be of no use, and at whatever sacrifice of feeling it must be
thrown out. This is a matter of great importance. It has been said that
the principal difference between the conversation of a wise man and of a
fool is that the one speaks all that is in his mind, while the other
gives utterance only to carefully selected thoughts. Nearly all men have
at times ideas that would please and profit any audience; and if these
are carefully weeded out from the puerilities by which they may be
surrounded, the remainder will be far more valuable than the whole mass.
Everything not in harmony with the controlling object or purpose must be
thrown away at whatever sacrifice of feeling. Read carefully your
scattered notes after the fervor of pursuit has subsided and erase every
phrase that is unfitting. If but little remains you can continue the
search as at first, and erase and search again, until you have all that
you need of matter truly relevant to the subject. Yet it is not well to
be over-fastidious. This would prevent speech altogether, or make the
work of preparation so slow and wearisome that when the hour of effort
arrived, all freshness and vigor would be gone. A knight in Spenser’s
“Faery Queen” entered an enchanted castle and as he passed through
eleven rooms in succession he saw written on the walls of each the
words, “Be bold;” but on the twelfth the inscription changed to the
advice of equal wisdom, “Be not too bold.” The same injunctions are
appropriate to the orator. He should be careful in the selection of his
material, but not too careful. Many things which a finical taste might
reject are allowable and very effective. No definite rule, however, can
be given on the subject, as it is a matter of taste rather than of
calculation.