CHAPTER V.

HOW SHALL THE WRITTEN PLAN BE USED?

Now that the plan is completed and fully written out, the next question

arises as to what shall be done with it. It may either be used or

abused. To read it to the audience or exhibit it to them would be an

obvious abuse. Possibly if the speaker possessed a large blackboard, the

latter course might, in special cases, have some advantages. But even

then it is better that the students should, in most instances, exercise

their own ingenuity in gathering out of the body of the speech the

central thoughts which they wish to preserve in their notebooks, than

that the work should be done for them in advance by having the whole

plan of the lecture placed in their sight.

The writer has experimented on this subject by repeating the same

lecture to different classes with the outline in some cases exposed to

view, and in the others concealed: the interest has always seemed to be

greater, and the understanding more complete in the latter case. If this

is true where instruction is the only aim, it is still more necessary

where persuasion is the object of the speaker. The exposing in advance

of the means by which he intends to work, will put on their guard the

very persons whose hearts he wishes to capture, and thus lose him all

that advantage of surprise which is often as momentous in oratorical as

in military affairs.

There are two other ways of using the plan to be considered. One is to

keep it in the speaker’s sight, so that he may step along from one item

to another, thus keeping a foundation of written words in the midst of

the uncertainty of his extemporaneous efforts, like that afforded by

stepping-stones to a man crossing a running stream. There are some

advantages in such use. The speaker will feel freer in making those

pauses which are sometimes necessary for the sake of emphasis. He is

better able to collect his scattered ideas in case any untoward

circumstance should break the thread of his discourse. If he is confused

for a moment, he may look down to his paper and recover himself, while

if thoughts and words flow easily he can ignore the plan which lies

before him.

But all the reasons for thus using the plan are the most emphatic

condemnation of the practice. They are all make-shifts. They are based

upon the thought that the great object is to secure the speaker from

danger and confusion; in other words, they put him on the defensive,

instead of the aggressive. Were the question to be stated, “How can a

man best preserve the form of extemporaneous speech while shielding

himself from the most dangerous incidents of that mode of address?” it

might plausibly be replied, “By making a very full plan and concealing

it at some point within the reach of his eyes, and using it whenever

that course becomes easiest.”

But we have not sought to point out the mode of speech which will best

protect the speaker from risks incident to his work. For real

effectiveness, compromises are usually hurtful, and this expedient forms

no exception.

To have a plan in sight tends powerfully to break up the speech into

fragments and destroy its unity. A series of short addresses on related

points, affords no substitute for a concentrated discourse. The speaker

who publicly uses his sketch, speaks on until he reaches a point at

which he does not know what is to come next, and on the brink of that

gulf, looks down at his notes, and, perhaps after a search, finds what

he wants. Had the thought existed in his mind, it would have blended the

close of the preceding sentences into harmony with it. Direct address to

the people, which they so much value in a speaker, is interfered with in

the same way, for his eye must rest for a portion of the time upon his

notes. He will also be apt to mention the divisions of his speech as

they occur, because the eye is resting upon them at the same time the

tongue is engaged, and it is hard to keep the two members from working

in harmony.

If notes must be used the same advice applies that we have already

offered to those who read in full. Be honest about it; do not try to

hide the notes. Any attempt to prove to an audience that we are doing

what we are not doing, has in it an element of deception, and is morally

objectionable. The use of notes is not wrong, but to use them while

pretending not to use them is wrong.

Some speakers carry their notes in their pockets for the sake of being

able to take them out in case they find their memory failing, and thus

they guard against the misfortune which once befell the eloquent Abbe

Bautain, who, on ascending the pulpit to preach before the French King

and Court, found that he had forgotten subject, plan, and text. This

method is honest and unobjectionable, for the notes of the plan are

either not used by the speaker at all, or if he takes them from his

pocket, the people will understand the action.

The only remaining method, and that which we would urge upon every

extempore speaker, is to commit the plan, as sketched, to memory. It is

put in the best possible shape for the expression of the subject by the

labor which has been previously bestowed upon it, and now such review as

will give the mind a perfect recollection of the whole subject in its

orderly unfolding is just what is needed for final mastery. Previously

much of the work of preparation was given to detached fragments. Now the

subject as a whole is spread out. The time given to a thorough

memorizing of the plan need not be great; it will indeed be but small if

the plan itself is so well arranged that every preceding part suggests

what follows; but it will be the most fruitful of all the time spent in

preparation. It puts you in the best condition for speaking. The object

is then fixed in the heart and will fire it to earnestness and zeal,

while the subject is spread, like a map, before the mental vision. All

the power you possess can then be brought to bear directly upon the

people. Do not fear that in the hurry of discourse you will forget some

part of what is clear when you begin. If you are in good mental and

physical condition, the act of speech will be exhilarating and

stimulating, so that every fine line of preparation will come into

clearness just at the right time, and many a relation unperceived

before, many a forgotten fact, will spring up in complete and vivid

perception. There is a wonderful luxury of feeling in such speech.

Sailing with a swift wind, riding a race-horse, even the joy of

victorious battle—indeed, all enjoyments that arise from the highest

powers called forth into successful exercise—are inferior to the thrill

and intoxication of the highest form of successful extemporaneous

speech. To think of using notes then would seem like a contemptible

impertinence! Imagine Xavier or Luther with their notes spread out

before them, looking up the different items from which to address the

multitudes spell-bound before them! The Presbyterian Deacon who once

prayed in the presence of his note-using Pastor, “O Lord! teach Thy

servants to speak from the heart to the heart, and not from a little

piece of paper, as the manner of some is,” was not so very far wrong!

It is advisable to commit the plan to memory a considerable time before

speaking. It then takes more complete possession of the mind and there

is less liability of forgetting some portion. This is less important

when the subject is perfectly familiar, for then “out of the abundance

of the heart the mouth speaketh,” but those subjects which have been

recently studied for the first time are in a different position; and

some meditation upon that which has just been arranged in its best form

will be very serviceable. Even if the salient points are firmly grasped,

some of the minor parts may require further close consideration. No

study is ever so profitable as that which is bestowed after the plan is

complete, for up to that time there is danger that some of the thoughts

to which our attention is given may be ultimately rejected and others

radically modified. But when the plan is finished each idea has settled

into its place. If obscurity rests anywhere, it may be detected at once,

and the strength of the mind be brought to bear for its banishment.

Impressions derived from meditation are then easily retained until the

hour of speech, because associated with their proper place in the

prepared outline. Such deep meditation on each division of the discourse

can scarcely fail to make it original in the true sense of the term, and

weave all its parts together with strong and massive thoughts.

After the plan has been memorized we can meditate upon it not only at

the desk, but anywhere. As we walk about or lie in bed, or at any other

time find our minds free from distractions, we can ponder the ideas that

cluster around our subject until they grow perfectly familiar. Even when

we are reading or thinking on other topics, brilliant thoughts will not

unfrequently spring up, or those we possessed before take stronger and

more definite outlines. All such gains can be held in memory without the

use of the pen, because the plan furnishes a suitable place for them.

The course here described we would urge strongly upon the consideration

of the young speaker. If carefully followed, its results will be

invaluable. Arrange the plan from which you are to speak as clearly as

may be in the form of a brief sketch; turn it over and over again;

ponder each idea and the manner of bringing it out; study the connection

between all the parts until the whole from beginning to end appears

perfectly plain and simple. So frequently has this mode of preparation

been tested that its effectiveness is no longer a matter of experiment.

It is advantageous to grasp the whole subject, as early as possible, in

a single idea—in the same manner in which the future tree is compressed

within the germ from which it is to spring. Then this one thought will

suggest the entire discourse to the speaker, and at its conclusion will

be left clear and positive in the hearer’s mind. For some acute auditors

this may be less necessary. They are able to outrun a loose speaker,

arrange his scattered fragments, supply his omissions, and arrive at the

idea which has not yet formed itself clearly in his own mind. Such

persons often honestly commend orators who are incomprehensible to the

majority of their hearers. But the opinions of such auditors are an

unsafe guide, for they form a very small minority of any assembly.

There is one further step which may sometimes precede the moment of

speech with profit—the placing upon paper 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 what 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 no

pause in the most rapid composition, and if the whole discourse can at

one effort be thrown into a dress of words there may be full assurance

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, to recall the

very words used in writing, but the command 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 passages in the

speech which you have thus struck off at white heat that you may be

unwilling 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 discourse. 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

sketch differs from the plan in clearly expressing all the ideas that

underlie the coming speech, while the latter would be nearly

unintelligible 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 perfectly safe in enlarging

upon a statement of their thoughts so brief that the whole sketch of the

speech would not require more than three or four minutes to read. But

this whole plan of writing, either in full or in brief, is only an

expedient, and need not be adopted by those who have full confidence in

their trained and cultivated powers.

After you have prepared your plan it is well to preserve it for future

use, which may be done by copying it into a book kept for that purpose:

or, what is more convenient in practice, folding the slip 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 consulted. 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 references 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.

Extempore Speech: How to Acquire and Practice It · 第 5 / 12 章