question of the arms in the condition of inaction. It is possibly well
to train one's self, when learning to speak, to let the arms hang
relaxed at the side, but speakers do not often so hold the arms.
Usually there is a desk near, and the speaker when at rest drops one
hand upon this, or he lets one arm rest at the waist, or he brings the
two hands together. Any of these things may be done, if done simply,
easily, without nervous tightening, or too frequent shifting. One
thing, for practical reasons, should not be allowed, the too common
habit of clasping the hands behind the back. It will become a fixed
mannerism, and a bad one, for the hands are thus concealed, the
shoulders and head may droop forward, and the hands may be so tightened
together behind the back as to cause nervous tension in the body and in
the voice. The hands should be in place ready for expressive action.
The back is not such a place.
Nearly every movement that a man makes in speaking should have some
fitting relation to what he is at the moment saying. These movements
will then be varied. When certain repeated actions, without this proper
relation, are acquired, they are called mannerisms. They have no
meaning, and are obtrusive and annoying. Repeated jerking or bobbing of
the head, for a supposed emphasis; regularly turning the head from side
to side, for addressing all the audience; nervous shaking of the head,
as of one greatly in earnest; repeated, meaningless punching or
pounding of the air, always in the same way; shifting of one foot
regularly backward and forward; rising on the toes with each emphatic
word,--although single movements similar to these often have
appropriate place, none of these or others should be allowed to become
fixed mannerisms, habitually recurring movements, without a purpose. We
are sometimes told that certain manneristic ways are often a speaker's
strength. Probably this is at least half true. But eccentricities
should not be cultivated or indulged. They will come. We should have as
few as possible, or they won't count. One thing, however, should here
be said. Positive strength, with positive faults, is much better than
spiritless inoffensiveness. One should not give all his attention to
the avoiding of faults.
In the application of gesture to the expression of ideas, one is
helped, as has been said, by constantly heeding the general principle
of suiting the form of the gesture to the nature of the thought, or of
suiting the action to the word. Inasmuch as gesture so generally takes
the form of objects or actions, it is undoubtedly easier to begin with
the more concrete in language, or with the discussion of tangible
objects, and work from these to the more abstract and remotely
imaginary--from the more, to the less, familiar. Let the student
indicate the location, or the height, or the width, or the form of an
object. His action will probably be appropriate. Let him apply similar,
probably less definite, action to certain abstract ideas. Let him pass
to ideas more remote and vague, by action largely suggestive, not
definite or literal.
The most important, because the most fundamental, principle to be borne
in mind is that gesture should be made to enforce, not the superficial,
or incidental, ideas appearing in a statement, but the ideas which lie
behind the form of expression and are the real basis, or inhere in the
fundamental purpose, of the speaker's discourse.
At the close of Senator Thurston's speech on intervention in behalf of
Cuba, there is picturesque language for impressing the contention that
force is justified in a worthy cause. The speaker cites graphically
examples of force at Bunker Hill, Valley Forge, Shiloh, Chattanooga,
and Lookout Heights. The student is here very likely to be led astray
by the fine opportunity to make gesture. He may vividly see and picture
the snows of Valley Forge, marked with bloodstained feet, and the other
scenes suggested, but forget about the central idea, the purpose behind
all the vivid forms of expression. Graphic, detailed gestures may have
the effect of making the pictures in themselves the main object. The
action here should be informal, unstudied, and merely remotely
suggestive. The speaker should keep to his one central idea, and keep
with his audience. Otherwise the speech will be insincere and
purposeless, perhaps absurd. The fundamental, not the superficial,
should determine the action. Young speakers almost invariably pick out
words or phrases, suggesting the possibility of a gesture, and give
exact illustration to them, as if the excellence of gesture were in
itself an object, when really the thing primarily to be enforced is not
these incidental features in the form of expression, but the underlying
idea of the whole passage. It is as if the steeple were made out of
proportion to the church, or a hat out of proportion to the man. This
misconception of what gesture really means is doubtless, in large
measure, the cause of making platform recitation often false and
offensive. The remedy does not lie in omitting gesture altogether, as
some seem to think, but in making gesture simple and true.
Finally, let the student remember that he goes to the platform, not to
make a splendid speech and receive praise for a brilliant exhibition of
his art, but that he goes there because the platform is a convenient
place from which to tell the people something he has to say. Let him
think it nothing remarkable that he should be there; let him so bear
himself, entering with simplicity, honesty, earnestness, and modesty,
into his work, that no one will think much about how his work is done.
Spirited oratory, with the commanding presence, the sweeping action,
and an overmastering force of utterance, may at times be called forth,
but these are given to a man out of his subject and by the occasion;
they are not to be assumed by him merely because he is before an
audience, or as necessary features of speech-making. Let the student
speak, first and always, as a self-respecting, thinking man, earnest
and strong, but self-controlled and sensible.
PLATFORM PRACTICE
THE FORMAL ADDRESS
The selections in the several sections for platform practice are to be
used for applying, in appropriate combination, the principles
heretofore worked out, one by one. The first group provides practice in
the more formal style. The occasion of the formal address requires, in
large degree, restraint and dignity. The thought is elevated; the mood
serious, in some cases subdued, the form of expression exact and firm.
The delivery should correspond. The tone should be, in some degree,
ennobled; the movement deliberate, and comparatively even and measured;
the modulation not marked by striking variations in pitch; the pauses
rather regular, and the gesture always sparing, perhaps wholly omitted.
The voice should be generally pure and fine; the enunciation should be
finished and true. Whatever action there may be should be restrained,
well poised, deliberate, with some degree of grace. In general it
should be felt that carelessness or looseness or aggressiveness or
undue demonstrativeness would be out of harmony with the spirit of the
occasion. Good taste must be exercised at every step, and the audience
should be addressed, from the outset, as in sympathy with the speaker
and ready at once to approve. The spirit and manner of contention is
out of place.
In this style of discourse the liability to failure lies in the
direction of dullness, monotony, lack of vitality and warmth. This is
because the feeling is deep and still; is an undercurrent, strong but
unseen. This restrained, repressed feeling is the most difficult
fittingly to express. In this kind of speech some marring of just the
right effect is difficult to avoid. Simplicity, absolute genuineness,
are the essential qualities. The ideas must be conveyed with power and
significance, in due degree; but nothing too much is particularly the
watchword regarding the outward features of the work.
THE PUBLIC LECTURE
In the public lecture the element of entertainment enters prominently.
The audience, at first in a passive state, must be awakened, and taken
on with the speaker. Probably it must be instructed, perhaps amused.
The speaker must make his own occasion. He has no help from the
circumstance of predisposition among his auditors. He must compel, or
he must win; he must charm or thrill; or he must do each in turn.
Animation, force, beauty, dramatic contrast, vividness, variety, are
the qualities that will more or less serve, according to the style of
the composition. Aptness in the story or anecdote, facility in graphic
illustration, readiness in expressing emotion, happiness in the
imitative faculty, for touching off the eccentric in character or
incident, are talents that come into play, and in the exercise of
these, gesture of course has an important place.
The lecture platform is perhaps the only field, with possibly the
exception of what is properly the after-dinner speech, wherein public
speaking may be viewed as strictly an art, something to be taken for
its own sake, wherein excellence in the doing is principally the end in
view. This means, generally, that individual talent, and training in
all artistic requirements, count for more than the subject or any
"accidents of office," in holding the auditor's interest. An animated
and versatile style can be cultivated by striving to make effective the
public lecture.
THE INFORMAL DISCUSSION
Informal discussion is the name chosen for the lecture or talk in the
club or the classroom. It implies a rather small audience and familiar
relations between audience and speaker. While the subject may be
weighty, and the language may be necessarily of the literary or
scientific sort, the style of speaking should be colloquial. It ought
to bring the hearer pretty near to the speaker. If the subject and
language are light, the speaking will be sprightly and comparatively
swift.
Since the occasion for this kind of speaking is frequent, and the
opportunity for it is likely to fall to almost any educated man,
proficiency in it might well be made an object in the course of one's
educational training. The end aimed at is the ability to talk well.
This accomplishment is not so easy as it may seem. It marks, indeed,
the stage of maturity in speech-making. Since authoritative opinion
from the speaker and interest in the subject on the part of the
audience are prime elements in this form of discussion, little
cultivation of form is usually given to this kind of speaking. The
result is much complaining from auditors about inaudibleness, dullness,
monotony, annoying mannerisms, or a too formal, academic tone that
keeps the audience remote, a lack of what is called the human quality.
A good talker from the desk not only has the reward of appreciation and
gratitude, but is able to accomplish results in full proportion to all
that he puts into the improvement of his vocal work. An agreeable tone,
easy formation of words, clear, well-balanced emphasis, good phrasing,
or grouping of words in the sentence, some vigor without continual
pounding, easy, unstudied bodily movement without manneristic
repetition of certain motions, in short, good form without any
obtrusive appearance of form,--these are the qualities desired.
ARGUMENTATIVE SPEECH
In the case of the forensic, we come nearer to the practical in public
speaking. The speaker aims, as a rule, to effect a definite purpose,
and he concentrates his powers upon this immediate object. Since the
speech is for the most part an appeal to the reason, and therefore
deals largely with fact and the logical relations of ideas, precision
and clearness of statement are the chief qualities to be cultivated.
But since the aim is to overcome opposition, and produce conviction,
and so to impress and stir as to affect the will to a desired action,
the element of force, and the moving quality of persuasion enters in as
a reėnforcement of the speaker's logic. Generally the speech is very
direct, and often it is intense. It has in greater degree than any
other form the feature of aggressiveness. Some form of attack is
adopted, for the purpose of overthrowing the opposing force. That
attack is followed up in a direct line of argument, and is carried out
to a finish. In delivery the continuous line of pursuit thus followed
often naturally leads to a kind of effective monotone style, wherein
the speaker keeps an even force, or strikes blow after blow, or sends
shot after shot. The characteristic feature of the forensic style is
the climax--climax in brief successions of words, climax in the
sentence, climax in giving sections of the speech, climax in the speech
as a whole.
Special notice should be taken of the fact that, in earnest argument,
sentences have, characteristically, a different run from that in
ordinary expository speaking. Whereas in the expository style the
sentence flows, as a rule, easily forth, with the voice rising and
falling, in an undulatory sort of way, and dropping restfully to a
finish, in the heated forensic style, the sentence is given the effect
of being sent straight forth, as if to a mark, with the last word made
the telling one, and so kept well up in force and pitch. The
accumulating force has the effect of sending the last word home, or of
making it the one to clinch the statement.
The dangers to be guarded against in debate are wearying monotony,
over-hammering--too frequent, too hard, too uniform an emphasis--too
much, or too continued heat, too much speed, especially in speaking
against time, a loss of poise in the bearing, a halting or jumbling in
speech, nervous tenseness in action, an overcontentious or bumptious
spirit. Bodily control, restraint, good temper, balance, are the saving
qualities. A debater must remember that he need not be always in a
heat. Urbanity and graciousness have their place, and the relief
afforded by humor is often welcome and effective.
In no form of speaking, except that of dramatic recitation, is the
liability to impairment of voice so great as it is in debating. One of
the several excellent features of debating is that of the self-
forgetfulness that comes with an earnest struggle to win. But perhaps a
man cannot safely forget himself until he has learned to know himself.
The intensity of debating often leads, in the case of a speaker vocally
untrained, to a tightening of the throat in striving for force, to a
stiffening of the tongue and lips for making incisive articulation, to
a rigidness of the jaw from shutting down on words to give decisive
emphasis. Soon the voice has the juice squeezed out of it. The tone
becomes harsh and choked; then ragged and weak. The only remedy is to
go straight back and begin all over, just as a golfer usually does when
he has gone on without instruction. The necessity of going back is
often not realized till later in life; then the process is much harder,
and perhaps can never be entirely effective. The teacher in the course
of his experience meets many, many such cases. The time to learn the
right way is at the beginning.
Among the selections here offered for forensic practice, examples in
debate serve for the cultivation of the aggressiveness that comes from
immediate opposition; examples in the political speech for acquiring
the abandon and enthusiasm of the so-called popular style; in the legal
plea for practice in suppressed force. In the case of the last of
these, it is well that the audience be near to the speaker, as is the
case in an address to a judge or jury. The idea is to be forcible
without being loud and high; to cultivate a subdued tone that shall, at
the same time, be vital and impressive. The importance of a manner of
speaking that is not only clear and effective, but also agreeable, easy
to listen to, is quite obvious when we consider the task of a judge or
a jury, who have to sit for hours and try to carry in their minds the
substance of all that has been said, weighing point against point,
balancing one body of facts against another. A student can arrange
nearly the same conditions as to space, and can, by exercise of
imagination, enter into the spirit of a legal conflict.
THE AFTER-DINNER SPEECH
After-dinner speaking is another form that many men may have an
opportunity to engage in. It can also be practiced under conditions
resembling those of the actual occasion, that is, members of the class
can be so seated that the speaking may become intimate in tone, and
speeches can be selected that will serve for cultivating that
distinctive, sociable quality of voice that, in itself, goes far in
contributing to the comfort and delight of the after-dinner audience.
The real after-dinner speech deals much in pleasantry. The tone of
voice is characteristically unctuous. Old Fezziwig is described by
Dickens as calling out "in a comfortable, rich, fat, jovial, oily
voice." Something like this is perhaps the ideal after-dinner voice,
although there is a dry humor as well as an unctuous, and each speaker
will, after all, have his own way of making his hearers comfortable,
happy, and attentive. Ease and deliberation are first requisites.
Nervous intensity may not so much mar the effect of earnest debate. The
social chat is spoiled by it. Humor, as a rule, requires absolute
restfulness. Especially should a beginner guard himself against haste
in making the point at the finish of a story. It does no harm to keep
the hearer waiting a bit, in expectation. The effect may be thus
enhanced, while the effect will be entirely lost if the point, and the
true touch, are spoiled by uncontrolled haste. The way to gain this
ease and control is not by stiffening up to master one's self, but by
relaxing, letting go of one's self. Practice in the speech of
pleasantry may have great value in giving a man repose, in giving him
that saving grace, an appreciation of the humorous, in affording him a
means of relief or enlivenment to the serious speech.
THE OCCASIONAL POEM
The occasional poem is so frequently brought forth in connection with
speech-making that some points regarding metrical reading may be quite
in place in a speaker's training. Practice in verse reading is of use
also because of the frequency of quoted lines from the poets in
connection with the prose speech.
To read a poem well one must become in spirit a poet. He must not only
think, he must feel. He must exercise imagination. He must, we will say
it again, see visions and dream dreams. What was said about vividness
in the discussion of expressional effects applies generally to the
reading of poetry. One will read much better if he has tried to write--
in verse as well as in prose. He will then know how to put himself in
the place of the poet, and will not be so likely to mar the poet's
verses by "reading them ill-favoredly." He will know the value of words
that have been so far sought, and may not slur over them; he may feel
the sound of a line formed to suggest a sound in nature. He will know
that a meter has been carefully worked out, and that, in the reading,
that meter is of the spirit of the poem; it is not to be disregarded.
Likewise he will appreciate the place of rhyme, and may not try so to
cover it up as entirely to lose its effect. In humorous verse,
especially, rhyme plays an effective part; and in all verse,
alliteration, variations in melody, the lighter and the heavier touch,
acceleration and retard in movement, the caesura, or pause in the line,
and the happy effect of the occasional cadence, are features which one
can come to appreciate and respect only with reading one's favorite
poems many times, with spirit warm, with faculties alert.
THE MAKING OF THE SPEECH
Although the use of selected speeches is best for effective drill in
delivery, yet a student's training for public speaking is of course not
complete until he has had experience in applying his acquired skill to
the presenting of his own thought. Thinking and speaking should be made
one operation. The principles of composition for the public speech
belong to a separate work. A few hints only can be given here, and
these will be concerned with the informal, offhand speech rather than
with the formal address.
The usual directions regarding the choosing of the subject, the
collecting of material, and the arranging of it in the most effective
order, with exceptions and variations, hold in all forms of the speech.
The subject chosen should be one of special interest to the speaker,
one on which it is known he can speak with some degree of authority,
because of his personal study of it, or because of his having had
exceptional personal relations with it. It must also be, because of the
nature of it, or because of some special treatment, of particular
interest to the audience to be addressed. Either new, out-of-the-way
subjects, or new, fresh phases of old subjects are usually interesting.
The subject must be limited in its comprehensiveness to suit the time
allowed for speaking, and the title of the speech should be so phrased
as to indicate exactly what the subject, or the part of a subject, is
to be. To this carefully limited and defined subject, the speaker
should rigidly adhere.
How to find a subject is generally a topic on which students are
advised. Though it is often a necessity to hunt for a suitable special
topic on which to speak, the student should know that when he gets
outside the classroom, he will find that he will not be invited to
speak because he is ready at finding subjects and clever in speech. It
is not strange, in view of the many advertisements that reach young
men, offering methods of home training, or promising sure success from
this or that special method of schooling, that they may come to believe
that any one has only to learn to stand up boldly on a platform, and
with voice and gesture exercise some mysterious sort of magical control
over an audience, and his success as an orator is secure. They will
find that their time and money have been wasted, so far as public
speaking is concerned, unless, having at the start some native ability,
they have secured, in addition, a kind of training that is fundamental.
A man is wanted as a speaker primarily because he stands for something;
because he has done some noteworthy work. His subjects for discussion
arise out of his personal interests, and, to a large extent, his method
of treatment will be determined by his relation to these subjects. A
young man may well be advised, then, not simply how to choose and how
to present a subject, but first to secure a good mental training, and
then to find for himself an all-absorbing work to do. The wisdom that
comes from a concentrated intellectual activity, and an interest in
men's affairs, both directed to some unselfish end, is the essential
qualification of the speaker.
In considering the arrangement of a speech, the student will do well to
ask himself first, not what is to be the beginning of it, but what is
to be the end of it; what is the purpose of it; and what shall be the
central idea; what impression, or what principal thought or thoughts,
shall be left with the audience. When this is determined, then a way of
working out this central idea or of working up to it--in a short
speech, by a few points only--must be carefully and thoroughly planned.
Extemporaneous speaking is putting spontaneously into words what has
previously been well thought out and well arranged. Without this state
of preparation, the way of wisdom is silence.